A Life Not His Own: Chapter 23

“What are you?”

Jacen opens his eyes, to find himself staring once more into the black pools which server as Vergere’s eyes.

“I am a Jedi.”

A flash of beak and fur. A twist of crest feathers. “No, we have been over this. You are not a Jedi. You must be alive to be a Jedi.”

Jacen drops his head, not wanting to look at her any more. “But I have the Force!”

A cawing sound assaults his ears. “Ah, but the Force does not a Jedi make.’

A feathery finger touches his chin, and he allows his chin to be lifted up, her beak is opened wide, her approximation of a human smile. “And if the Force is keeping you from realizing that, then let us see what we can do about that.”

Confused, he reaches out with the Force, touching her and finding a wellspring of it within her. Deep, powerful, controlled. Trained.

His eyes widen, and his mouth drops for a moment. “You. You’re a Jedi.”

Her head shakes. “You will find no Jedi here, young Solo.”

Her hand touches his head for a second, and a blinding flash of pain rips through him, a silent explosion of pain which drowns out even the White. He gasps aloud, a sharp intake of breath as the room closes in around him.

He has been raised with the Force his entire life. It has always been there for him, a comforting, calming breath of life and laughter, washing through him at all times.

With that flash of pain, that explosion of self, it is gone.

The river of life has dried up.

The world is now all grey, leeched of the colors that he has always seen.

The world is silent now; the sounds he has always heard have been stilled.

It lacks substance and depth. The nothingness within his head and heart scream at him, echoing the fact that he no longer has the Force. He reaches for his twin sister through their bond, slamming his self against that spot where she has always been.

And he is met with silence, with lack, and with an overwhelming emptiness. Even his bond with Jaina has become a void.

He is alone.

He is dead.

His lungs scream for air, and he finally remembers to breathe again.

“Why? What did you do?”

Her head cocks to the side. The crest of feathers on her head raises, shifting, catching the light, reflecting the yellow of surprise. “The Force is life,” she spreads her hands wide, takes up a questioning stance, “and what does life have to do with the dead?”

Jacen sobs, his entire body shaking. “But I’m not dead.”

“I have told this to you already, you are dead. Just because you are still moving does not change that. The galaxy thinks you are dead, your family and friends cry over your memory; they mourn you and believe you have become dust. Your mother and sister weep, your father rages, and your brother? Your brother rushes to his own doom. They are as lost to you, as you are to them. Gone are the bright fields of day.”

Jacen looks up at her, the tear tracks shining slightly on his face.

Her hands flap away in front of her. “Your life has been terminated. A line of division has been drawn between you and everything you have ever known.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Choose and act.”

“What?”

“Choose and act.”

He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t-”

“You must choose and act. Will you stay here, and live out your entire life in pain, or will you choose to learn the True Way? Choose and act.”

“I trusted you.”

“Yes you did. Why?”

The simplicity of the question astounds him, draws him back, and his mouth opens in surprise. Why indeed? Could it be because he was raised on Coruscant, among the multitude of species and beings? Could it be an instinctive aspect of his Jedi training, of the empathy which allows him to handle the deadly animals in his menagerie without fear of danger?

He looks at her, his thoughts collapsing and sluggish in the void which exists in his mind.

“But, you healed Aunt Mara.”

“Did I? And what significance did you attach to that?

His body shudders, and tears drip from his eyes, shattering on the floor beside Vergere.

“But…” Jacen’s breathe shudders in his body as he wonders how the universe could be so fragile, how his life could be so futile. “But I’m a Jedi.”

“You were a Jedi. Have you not been paying attention? You are dead, what about that do you fail to understand?”

Another sob hitches Jacen’s body. “I don’t understand anything. Nothing makes sense to me anymore…”

The sound of whistling chimes comes from her again. She leans up and forward, her beaked mouth near her ear, her whiskers tickling it. “Jacen Solo, Listen well.” Her voice is filled with warmth and kindess and her breath smells of alien spices and meats. “Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask is a trick. You will find no truth in me.”

She pulls back so Jacen can see into her blank, black eyes. “Though you believe nothing else, you may rest your faith on this.”

“What are you?”

“I am Vergere, what are you?”

She waits, motionless, patient, as if expecting an answer. When he doesn’t provide one, she turns away, the door way opening with a wet smacking sound. She hops through it without a backward glance. The door slides shut with a slight sucking sound, as the Embrace of Pain pulls on him once more.

Drawing him up and into the White.

Only now he lacks the Force, and as the White consumes him once more, he can feel the beginnings of despair.

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She stalks through Bast Castle, wondering what could have called her here. What icon of the Dark Side could have awakened? Her form-fitting silver armor gleams in the soft lights. A burqa covers her face, save for her eyes, which glitter with madness and power. A whip is curled, and attached to her belt, a steelweave cape flapping behind her.

She has walked the halls for hours, hunting for whatever presence she felt calling her. She savors the pain and misery found through out the building. It is a pain that flickers a memory into existence. Luke. A name from another time and place. Vader’s son. Vader himself. Her old master was here. No, someone of his lineage. She looks around Vader’s private chambers, and leaves. Her final stop is the infirmary.

She walks into the clean room, with its slight tangy smell of antiseptic. She sees the numerous droids lining one of the walls, but that is not what has her attention. They are not what is calling her. She follows the trail of despair and pain to a single, lone door and opens it. And finds something that draws her attention.

What has her attention is the lifeless husk which floats in the bacta tank before her. She walks close to the tank, and presses her hand against it. She smiles even as she wonders who would have placed someone who is dead into a bacta tank.

She drains the tank, as the medical droids around her come alive.

The muscles on her cheek move, the scar next to her eye twisting subtly. Amusement dances in her eyes.

She looks between the nearest droid and the being in the bacta tank. As the green fluid flows out, the body within thumps to the side, her blonde hair lying damp and limp around her scarred face. The twist of the scars, a crinkling of the flesh around the eyes. Amusement gives way to madness in her eyes. “I will have an apprentice, if I have to assemble one from scratch.”

Lumiya, Dark Lady of the Sith beckons one of her guards to come forward. “Take her to the Corruption, and tell the helm that as soon as I’m onboard we are to set course for the Kalakar system.”

The trooper salutes, and turns to obey; he drags the girl’s still body away and down the hall.

Lumiya watches for a moment, and then laughs out loud, a crazed, dangerous laugh. She looks around the still medical room, humor still shining in her eyes. “Yes, I shall soon have my apprentice, and then I shall have my revenge.”

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Jaina is in the midst of battle. Her self an extension of her fighter. In the Force she can once more feel the seepage of agony which her twin brother is in. A pain so intense that even though he keeps it from their bond, it still trickles through to her, keeps her awake and with a headache all through the night.

Her X-Wing twists and tumbles through and around the thousands of fighters and coral skippers which surround her. There are so many, that she spends most of her time dodging things rather than actually firing her lasers.

Her wing is tucked tightly beside her, her moves echoing Jaina’s own in a wonderful precision which comes about only after hours of sim time together.

Suddenly a white light goes off in her head, a supernova of pain and emptiness. For a second she can feel everything, and then she feels nothing.

Her eyes slowly open as her body contorts from the strength of the cough from the smoke in her cockpit causes. She can hear Illisa screaming her name.

And twists on the com. “I’m here.”

“Are you all right Sticks?”

Jaina nods her head before remembering that there is no visual feed. “Sorry, I, I don’t know what happened, but I need to return to the Ralroost.”

A click answers in reply, and she peels off, heading towards the Ralroost. She dodges plasma balls and grutchins, and gasps as she sees another of the slave ships slam into Coruscant’s shields, plowing through them, and crashing towards the planet below. She yanks her eyes away, as the Force floods with the pain of shared, fear-filled death.

She continues to the Ralroost, her fighter, listing to port. She is halfway there, when a message comes over the system, a wide-band broadcast. “This is Admiral Kre’fey. This is the Omega Signal. Repeat, New Republice Forces are going Omega. Coruscant, I’m sorry.”

She lands her fighter, and crawls out, falling more than jumping to the floor. She kneels there, and tries to reach for her twin brother, meeting only an empty void. An anguished cry of grief and sorrow rips through her, causing technicians and flight crews to stop what they’re doing and stare.

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The Millennium Falcon flips and dives. Dodging plasma balls and grutchins, and even turbolaser fire as if she was a starfighter rather than a light freighter.

Han Solo sits within the cockpit, with Leia Organa there beside him. Two of the Senate security personnel man the quad lasers, the steady beats of their sustained fire an indicator of just how many enemy targets surround them.

“Jacen. JACEN!”

Leia’s scream catches Han off guard, and he glances at his wife, to see her curling herself up, wrapping herself around the center of her being, a wail of grief ripping from her throat. Leaning over in her seat, pressing her forehead against the co-pilot's station in front of her.

Han pushes the ship down. “Princess, tell me.”

Leia looks at him, her eyes wild, and filled with pain. “He’s gone. I-I can’t feel him, just, just a void.”

Han growls low, an angry, desperate look appearing in his eyes, as he aims the Falcon for the Vong flagship.

Their com crackles to life, receiving a wide-band broadcast from one of the New Republic military ships. “This is Admiral Kre’fey. This is the Omega Signal. Repeat, New Republice Forces are going Omega. Coruscant, I’m sorry.”

Leia looks at Han. “They’re abandoning Coruscant.”

Han nods his head. Leia looks out at the mass of yorik coral they’re aimed at.

“Do you plan on ramming it? Killing us, and all those in the hold?” Han looks at her, his grief mirrored in her eyes. Leia lays her hand on his arm, even as her tears flow freely down her cheeks. “This is not the way. We need to live, for Jaina. For Anakin.”

Han closes his eyes, and yanks the Falcon to port, dodging the fire coming from the Vong flagship. She grips his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, even as more tears flow down the side of her face.

She watches the first of the Imperial Star Destroyers jump out of the system, and sighs. She feels that same fire burning in her from the rebellion after Yavin. It is the fire that drives her to want to destroy the enemy because they had hurt her. And even as she knows that that feeling is beneath her as a Jedi, she knows that it is a natural emotion and that all those in the system, in the New Republic, feel it.Leia activates the com, setting it to a wide-spectrum broadcast, allowing every com unit in the system to pick it up, including the holonet.

She was raised as a politician. To be able to give rousing speeches at the drop of the moment. And though she has long since given up on the desire to be involved in politics, she knows that she cannot let her life's work fall apart.

Taking a deep breath, she composes herself and then begins to speak.

"This is not the end. Two years ago, the Yuuzhan Vong entered our galaxy. They came not as friends and equals, though we would gladly have welcomed them as such, but as thieves and conquerors. They saw a galaxy at peace and mistook the strength of our convictions for frailty of arms, the wisdom of compromise for the timidity of cowards. They attacked without provocation or mercy, slaying billions of our citizens, enslaving entire worlds, and sacrificing millions of beings to appease the bloodlust of their imaginary gods. They believed we would be easily defeated, because they believed we would yield without a fight.

"They were wrong. We have fought at Dubrillion, Ithor, the Black Bantha, Borleias, and Corellia - we have fought them every leg of the way from the Outer Rim into the Core. We have lost untold numbers of loved ones, my own son Jacen and my husband's dear friend Chewbacca among them, and now we are battling in the skies over Coruscant itself. We are still fighting.

"Soon, the enemy will be on our rooftops, in our homes, roaming the dark underlayers of our city. To those able to evacuate and to those trapped behind, I say the same thing I would tell my children. Keep fighting.

"This is not the end. In the past, Jedi-led forces have decimated Yuuzhan Vong fleets, and we enter each battle with new weapons and better tactics. We have prevailed against ruthless enemies before, against Palpatine, against Thrawn, against the Ssi-ruuk. This is a war we know how to win. Keep fighting until you can fight no longer, then exhaust the enemy chasing you, and turn and fight some more. Keep fighting. I promise you, we will prevail."

A Father's Blade: Chapter Two

Jagged Fel sits slumped slightly in the dingy cantina on Ambria. The Huck's Hideout had definitely seen better days. By Jag's estimation, it was probably an upscale cantina a decade prior to the Clone Wars and since the end of that conflict it has slowly devolved into just another dingy dump on a dustbowl of a planet.

As far as Jag can tell, the Huck's Hideout has only two things which keep it in operation. First they don't water down the drinks, and secondly the air conditioner appears to be in perfect working condition. And on a desert planet, such as Ambria, those are inordinately important conditions.

He allows his eyes to flicker across the six other occupants of the bar once again. The elderly couple enjoying a late lunch in a corner booth. A Wookie, human and an Arconian playing a hand of sabacc in the center of the floor, and a Bothan at the bar, nursing a drink as slowly as Jag himself nurses his.

Jag takes a swallow of the gizer ale, allowing the liquid to settle on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. As he does this, he considers the sequence of events which have led him here. His exile from the Ascendancy, the time he spent trapped, marooned, on Tenupe. The years since his rescue, running around the Known Regions as a bounty hunter. He pushes those dark memories away, not wanting to dwell on what occurred on that forest world. Not wanting to think about the Jedi.

And most definitely he did not want to think about a certain short, brown-haired, brown-eyed female Jedi.

He takes another swallow of the ale; letting thoughts of the Jedi flow away as the liquid flows down his throat.

He runs his hand through his hair; still slightly unnerved by the extra length he's allowed it to grow out since he joined the Fringe. Just another of the changes which he's accepted. At that thought, he mentally checks his posture to ensure he still has the slight slouch of an out-of-luck spacer, rather than the ramrod straight military bearing which he would prefer to be displaying.

The door opens with a soft shushing sound, and a warm dry breeze flows over and around him, blowing his hair, causing it to tickle his ears.

He surreptitiously looks to the doorway, waiting for whoever opened the door to walk around the corner into the hallway which leads into the cantina. As he watches, he realizes that that doorway is another good thing going for this bar. The draft of wind when the door is opened alerts the patrons, while the brightly light hallway, with its right-angle corner between the exterior door and the darkened cantina proper provides a spotlight for everyone that comes into the bar.

A few moments after the wind settles down, the man who opened the door comes into view, he stands in the bright light of the entryway for just a moment, but that moment is long enough for Jag to clearly see that the man is wearing a light blue jumpsuit, with the BioTech Industries' dark blue and red logo stitched on the right breast.

Jag turns on the datapad which he has laying on the table, and glances down at the flat image which pops up on it. He compares the image with the man who was already sliding up to the bar ordering something. He grins slightly, as he makes a match, and stands up. His hand slips down to the blaster on his hip. Silently, he unsnaps the latch and pulls out his BlastTech DN-24.

As the bartender places a drink in front of the man, Jag leans up against the bar next to him, pressing his blaster into the man's side.

"No sudden moves."

Jag watches as the man tenses his body. The man’s voice is measured and calm. As if someone poking a blaster in his side was an everyday occurrence. "What do you want?"

"You're going to finish your drink, and then we're going to take a nice little walk. If you listen, then I won't have to hurt you."

The man slowly lifts his glass to his lips, taking a long draught of the ale. "You still haven't told me what you want."

"Me? Nothing. I'm just a simple man doing a simple job. My employer on the other hand, wants to have a talk with you."

The man places his glass down on the bar. "Fine. Let's go now."

Jag leads the man forward, and out of the bar. A small warning goes off in the back of his head. There's something about this whole situation that he doesn't like. He hasn't had a bounty this easy in years. Before he steps under the harsh lights of the entryway, he glances back over those still in the bar, noting that they all seem to still be engrossed in what they were doing.

He looks up, as the man arrives at the bend, and takes a step forward. He hesitates, listening to the same instincts which served him well as a starfighter pilot. Then he takes a step backwards as the doorway explodes, tossing him back into the cantina. He lands on his rump, sliding up against an empty table. He gives his head a quick shake to clear the ringing from his ears, and looks towards the doorway to find a Yuuzhan Vong warrior standing there, a snarl twisting his mutilated and tattooed features.

Jag growls a curse as he raises his blaster.

The war against the Yuuzhan Vong taught the scientists and engineers of the Known Regions a lot. They developed a host of new technologies to defeat and befuddle the aggressive species. Yet the largest of the developments against Yuuzhan Vong biots has occurred in the decade or so since the end of the war. Including development of the Blastech DN series – a series of blasters designed with Vondum Crab armor in mind.

The warrior unfurls his amphistaff and Jag pulls the trigger. The chuff sound of the blaster echoes loudly in the enclosed room and the blast of energy creates a large hole in the chest of the warrior.

Rolling to his feet, he tosses three small balls towards the entryway. On their third bounce, they begin to his as they emit jets of a dark grey smoke. As the gas spills out of the entrance and into the cantina itself, Jag looks around, trying to find another way out. Then he spies the entrance to the kitchen. He jumps over the bar, and brushes past the bartender and into the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway, he glances back towards the entrance and notices a large, ginger-haired Wookiee stumbling through the fog, shaking his head to clear it from the effects of the gas. Jag frowns for a second, and then pushes on through the kitchen, bursting out the back door. He glances around, getting his bearings, and then heads to the spaceport as fast as he can.

Half an hour later, he is settling into the cockpit of his ship, his brows creased in concentration as he tries to figure out just what that warrior was doing protecting the scientist he was sent to snatch. He sighs deeply, as he realizes that the issues at hand here are beyond him.

He pulls up his contact list, and finds a name of a guy that he hasn't spoken to in over a decade. Not since the war ended. He presses the icon to activate the call, and a few minutes later Kyp Durron's face appears on the holocom suite.

Jag almost laughs at the confusion on the Jedi Master's face as the older man says, "Fel? Is that you?"

"Yes, I have a tip for you Jedi."

"What is it?"

"BioTech Industries on Ambria. Something fishy is going on there."

"Anything more concrete than that?"

Jag shakes his head. "Just that the Vong and the Wookies are involved somehow. It's above my resources to find out more info, plus I have other things I need to do. But you know me, Kyp. I wouldn't send this to you if I wasn't certain it wasn't important."

Kyp nods his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll see what we lowly Jedi can do. Anything else?"

"Yeah, don't tell Jaina you talked to me."

"Copy that, Jag. It wa-"

Jag terminates the communication. He doesn’t really want to talk to the Jedi. He doesn’t want to remember. He sighs, and preps his ship for take-off.

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Tahiri stands at the edge of the sparring mat; in her hands is the control box for the four remotes circling around her apprentice as she watches the exercise. Noelani Darklighter is dressed in a form-fitting training suit, her bright blonde hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, its curls swishing with her every movement. A navy blue cloth is tied tightly around the girl’s eyes, ensuring that she can’t see anything.

In Noelani’s hands is Tahiri’s lightsaber. Its constant hum a curious offset to the puffs and buzz of the remotes.

There is a shift in the tone of the saber as Noelani moves the blade around to deflect the dart from one of the remotes. As she blocks, two of the other remotes dive in to attack Noelani’s undefended side. She dances forward, but the wounds she suffered at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong slow her down just enough for the remotes to catch her.

Her yelp of pain is clear, and echoes slightly in the training room. As Tahiri watches, Noelani tries to put pressure on the leg which had just been shot by the dart, and it crumples due to numbness, spilling Noelani to the floor. The young girl is just able to get the saber up and around in time to keep from slicing herself in half and to block another bolt that was heading for her stomach.

She turns off the saber, and rolls forward, trying to give herself a chance to catch her breath, and get feeling in her leg again. She stops after a couple rolls, and bounces to her feet. She ignites the saber again and bats away another bolt coming in for her thigh.

Then another yelp of pain sounds out in the room, and Tahiri smirks slightly as she notices that Noelani had been shot in the rump by a remote that had gotten behind her. The girl stumbles forward, trying her best to remain standing upright, weariness from her still healing wounds and the darts beginning to take their toll.

Then Tahiri’s comlink chimes and she pulls it out, noting the simple text message displayed on its face. She turns her attention back to the training session, and deactivates the remotes. With a few last hisses, they slowly return to their spots alongside the wall. Noelani watches as they float away, and then turns back towards Tahiri.

"Why is the session over, Master? Did I do something wrong?"

Tahiri smiles at the girl, wondering when she’ll realize just how much talent she has, and at the same time dreading the day that happens. "Nothing is wrong; we’ve just been summoned to the Council Chambers."

Noelani holds out Tahiri’s saber towards her. "Oh. Okay."

Tahiri smiles as she takes the weapon and attaches it to her belt. She flips her head towards the doorway and says, "Come on, we can’t keep the Council waiting forever, now can we?"

A Life Not His Own: Chapter 22

Anakin carries Nelani from the Tachyon Flier into Centerpoint itself. He cradles her body against him, her feverish skin, hot and sticky against his bare chest. He reaches out with the Force, finding the viruses once more multiplying in her body, and pushes against them, suppressing them with the Force, and where he is able, killing them.

A low growl comes from his throat as he stalks through the station, trying to remember where he needs to go. He comes to a passage way, and her body hitches, as she groans in pain.

Anakin closes his eyes, and roughly blows out his breath. He looks left and right, and sees the same featureless doors for as far as the eye can see, and not a single sign. Another growl, and this time he is surprised that it came from him. Which way?

A gentle prompting and he turns right, rushing down the hallway. Then he sees the sign, the simple icon which has become universally recognized as a medic station.

He enters and a grin twists his lips. There before him is a fully functional bacta tank. He sets Nelani on one of the medical beds, and activates the bacta tank. The he sets about, stripping Nelani, and getting her into the short medical clothes designed for the tanks. He runs a hand down her cheek, wincing at the gaunt, stretched skin which is heat blasted from fever.

He feels a tear trickle down his cheek. He sees the tear as it splashes against her nose.

“Don’t you dare die on me.”

He waits a second, hoping, praying for a reply. When it doesn’t come, he kisses her forehead gently, and then lifts her up, carrying her up the ramp to the second level. He opens the bacta tank, and places the face mask on her, and gently slides her into it, not bothering to put on the rest of the medical monitoring devices. He leaves the top open, and walks down to the front of the tank, and presses his hand against it, even as he feels more tears slipping down his cheeks.

His comunit chirps, and a gravely voice comes from it. “Lord Vader?”

He activates the unit. “Yes, Ghrikma?”

“We have arrived.”

“Good, deploy on level twenty-three, section fifty-five. Then meet me on level forty, section 102.”

“We obey Lord Vader.”

The com dies, and Anakin presses his hand on the tank once again.

Then he walks from the room, heading towards the control center. He arrives at the control center. As soon as he steps into the room screens spring to life, showing him things. He closes his eyes, and walks to a station by instinct. This is the oddest of the gifts he has been given, the one which astounds, and frightens those around him the most. That instinctive understanding of not just machinery, but how things are put together. How they work, how they can be improved.

His sister is a mechanic, she is able to devise, and repair. Restoration is her clarion calling. And she is good at it. His brother is the empath. He feels, and understands, not just people and other sentients, but nonsentient animals as well.

But himself, he is the creator. He knows all there is to know about something, just by focusing upon it. While he may not understand what it is he knows, while he may not comprehend it in its entirety. He knows.

He opens his eyes, and reaches out towards the console, as an interface flows up out of the blank surface in front of him. He grips the handle and grins, feeling the station coming alive around him once more. He knows that his actions will have alerted the populace of Corellia to his presence, but he does not care.

He focuses, and understands. Forty-five totha and he can fire Centerpoint. While he does not know exactly how long a totha is, that does not matter, for Centerpoint wil tell him. He drops into a meditation, waiting for some reply from the station, occasionally touching Nelani through the Force, seeing if she is getting better. His despair grows at every touch, as she seems to be slipping further and further away, slipping deeper and deeper into the healing trance.

A chime sounds in his soul, and he opens his eyes. He glances at one of the monitors scattered randomly around the room. On it is a red star destroyer. He checks to see how long he has left before he can fire. As the timer nears zero, his grin grows bigger. He enters the coordinates from memory, and smiles as a real-time sensor view of Mrykr appears on a monitor, for there around it is a worldship. He makes a request of the system, determining if his plan is feasible.

When he gets the feeling of an affirmative from the machine, he instructs Centerpoint Station to cause Myrkr’s star to go nova.

A wave of satisfaction rolls through him, and he glances at the local sensors, seeing the Jade Shadow on a fast approach. Frowning, Anakin focuses on the second part of his plan, working out the necessary calculations.

Minutes later, he glances into an interior scanner, and sees Luke leaving the med center where he had left Nelanie. He flicks on the intercom.

“Go away Uncle Luke.” He almost chuckles as he watches Luke spin around on the monitor. “Just get off the station, and leave. We don’t need you here.”

Luke looks up at the security cam, almost as if he is staring directly at Anakin. “Well I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Anakin pushes a button on his comlink, activating the droids. “Please Uncle Luke? I didn’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t Anakin. Come back with me.”

Anakin frowns, wondering where his uncle gets his unending supply of optimism from. “I can’t. Not until I’ve had my revenge.”

Anakin watches as the droids take up position beyond Luke. Luke laughs. “Do you really think that they’ll stop me?”

Anakin glances back to his calculations, then to the security monitor to see Luke set in an attack stance. “Just leave Uncle Luke. Let me finish what I’ve started.”

“I can’t do that.”

Anakin sighs, and turns off the intercom, and goes back to his calculations. They are finally finished, and Anakin sets into play his second part of the plan. Then he gets up from the control chair, and returns to the main passage way. He stands in the darkness about a hundred meters away from Luke, and he activates his saber, as he watches Luke battle the cortosis covered Phase III Dark Trooper.

Within moments Luke wins, and starts walking towards him once more. Anakin stands and waits, the thrum of his saber sounding deafening in his ears. He closes his eyes, wondering why it has come to this.

“Anakin.”

He opens them, and finds himself staring into a pair of eyes which has always reminded him of his own. “Hello Uncle Luke.”

“It’s time to come home, Anakin.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow. “There are still Vong out there to kill uncle. They don’t deserve to live.”

“That’s not your call to make.”

“Yes it is! They killed Tahiri! Now I get to kill them all!” Anakin pulls his saber up slightly.

“I know Tahiri’s death hurt you Anakin, but is this how you deal with it? Do you think she would have wanted you to fall because of her?”

“I loved her!”

Luke holds his free hand out to Anakin. “I know. Believe me I know. But giving into your hate is not the way to honor her.”

“How do you know? You don’t understand what I’m going through!”

Luke lets out a short brittle laugh. “You know better than that Anakin. I know you do. I felt you trying to give Mara strength after Ben was born, when she was dying. I felt that surge of grief when she did.”

Anakin’s saber lifts slightly higher. “That’s just another debt the Vong have to pay for.”

Luke sighs as he raises his saber into a mid-guard. “I’m sorry it has come to this Anakin. But I will stop you.”

Anakin raises his saber as well, hate filling his face. “You will try.” They stare at each other, neither quite willing to move first, both knowing that it has to be them that does so.

They are Master and Apprentice.

Family in ways above and beyond the mere blood which connects them.

They have both fought, and bled for the galaxy.

Each has lost the woman he loves to the Yuuzhan Vong.

In another time, another place, they would fight side-by-side. But here and now where one is consumed by his pain, and the other unable to help him due to his own, they fight one another.

Unable to stop the anger, the hate, Anakin moves.

Their sabers collide, a crashing sound, harsh and electric. As the sabers hum against one another, Anakin feels his anger pulsing, while Luke feels sorrow growing.

Anakin pulls back, and sends his saber in low, slicing at Luke’s feet. Luke jumps, Force pushing himself up and over Anakin. Luke lands behind him, and Anakin twists around, slicing at the midline.

Luke’s blade is there, stopping Anakin’s and then flips around and twists, coming in towards the young man’s head.

Anakin parries, and kicks his foot out, catching Luke’s knee. He pulls back before the knee breaks, and swings his sword in a powerful two-handed slice. Luke catches Anakin’s blade, and then slams a Force wall into the young Knight.

Anakin flies through the air, landing and skidding to a stop. He lets out a grunt of pain as he collides with the bulkhead of the passageway.

He stands, his anger flowing out of control, and then jumps towards Luke once more. He lands two meters shy of the Jedi Master, and runs the rest of the way in. His saber flickers to the left and right, staying tsill for mere moments before going to the next attack.

For minutes, his blade continues to flicker back and forth in that fashion. Luke’s blade is always there to stop Anakin’s attack.

Call it luck, call it the Force, it makes little difference to either of the combatants, but Luke’s saber misses one of Anakin’s strikes. The smell of burned flesh fills the passageway, as a wound appears on Luke’s arm.

Anakin gives a feral grin, as his attacks increase, as they become harder and faster. As he gives into his anger and hate more and more.

Luke makes a second mistake, and Anakin slices across Luke’s legs, and then twists his saber up and through Luke’s saber. Slicing through the emitter array, causing the weapon to sputter and die in an explosive array of sparks. The Jedi Master falls to the ground a groan of pain coming from him. Anakin steps forward, his saber lifting. “Why couldn’t you have just left?”

He brings his saber further up, preparing for a killing blow. His uncle stares up at him impassively, accepting. “I had to bring you home.”

Then there is a scuffle from behind him. He hears a voice, one that almost sounds like an angel.

“Anakin, this isn’t the way.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Green.

Everything is green.

As she slowly regains consciousness, that single overriding fact flicks through her mind over and over again.

Her eyelids flutter, sluggish in the fluid which surrounds her. Her hands go up, and touch the mask covering her face. The cloying scent still in her nose.

Bacta.

She is floating in Bacta. She looks around, wondering where Anakin found a Bacta Tank on the worldship. She thinks back, trying to remember, but the last thing she does remember is cresting the hill on the worldship and looking down upon the slave city. She looks up, and sees that the top is opened. She kicks off, and finds herself at the top of the tank in seconds. She grabs a hold of the edge of the platform, and pulls herself out. She grabs a towel and wipes away the excess bacta, and carefully walks down the ramp. She finds her clothes in a pile by the bed, and picks them up. She sighs when she sees that they are ruined, and looks down to see that she is wearing what amounts to something in between exercise clothes and underwear.

Feeling distinctly underdressed; she snaps her utility belt into place, the heft of her saber comforting on her hip. She presses her palm against the activator plate, happy at the sound of a metallic door opening.

She steps out of the room, and looks left and right. Her eyebrow quirks as she sees green and purple lightsaber blades. Cautiously she walks that way, staying to the shadows, her movements slow and precise as her wounded back still hurts.

She gasps, as she sees who it is Anakin is fighting, her brow creases as she wonders why Anakin would fight against his own uncle.

There is a bright flash, and Nelani glances that way again to see Luke on the ground, groaning in pain, grasping one of his legs tightly. She studies Luke lying there on the ground, wondering if she should intervene. If this fight is something to get involved in.

She wonders if she cares.

Movement catches her eye, and she watches as Anakin raises his blade. His voice is cold and dangerous as he says, “Why couldn’t you have just left?”

She looks back down at Luke. The Jedi Master. The hero of the Republic, of the galaxy. Nearly every sentient in Known Space has heard of this man. He is the embodiment of the Jedi, what it means to be a humble man and a good person. Even the sludge news reports good things about him.

Little boys want to grow up to be him.

And fathers want their daughters to marry men like him.

Luke speaks. “I had to bring you home.”

Then she looks at Anakin. Her Master. Her mentor. The person who has shown her the Force and the power she commands. Taught her to use it, taught her to fight. The man who taught her how to truly live. To her, he is everything his Uncle is and more. Yet here he is, broken. A hero darkened by war and death. Her cheek twitches as she considers him.

It would be so simple to just ignore the fight, to let Anakin kill as he sees fit. Yet what would that say about him? What would it say about her? Can she let the man she loves, kill his unarmed uncle?

Her thoughts pause for a second, as she considers the ramifications of that last thought. Then she nods her head. Yes she loves him. And no she cannot allow him to do this.

Nelani walks out of the shadows and towards Anakin, her feet scuffle over pieces of exploded droids.

Her voice is soft, but cuts through the air around them. Slicing through the tension and anger. “Anakin this isn’t the way.”

Anakin turns towards her, his face twisted in anger. “What are you talking about?”

“Killing your Uncle. This isn’t the way to do things. You’re a hero and a Jedi.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be!”

Nelani shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter, it’s who you are.”

Anakin shakes his head violently, and then turns back to Luke, raising his blade once more.

“If you kill him, then what? Who’s next? Your brother? Your sister? The cousin you have never met? Me?” Anakin hesitates, his arms quivering slightly. He bows his head. Nelani continues talking. “You once told me that you were fighting because the Vong killed someone you loved. If you kill Master Skywalker, who will you be fighting then?”

Anakin’s saber drops to the ground and its blade sputters and dies. The echo of the metal hilt as it comes to a rest rings in the passage way.

Nelani walks closer to him, as he turns towards her. “I’m so sorry Nelani, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be better than this.” Her drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Kneeling in front of him, she reaches out and touches his cheek. “Anakin, you are better than this. I know it. Master Skywalker knows it. I can feel the good inside of you.”

He looks up at her, the tears streaming down his face. “How can you say that?”

She leans closer, her lips almost brushing his. “Because if you weren’t I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you, even while you tried to be Lord Vader.”

Then she kisses him.

-------------------------------------------------------

Prefect Ch’roka Toh stares at the display that appears in his mind’s eyes. He is trying to figure out what the symbols and signs means. Well he knows, but he cannot believe it.

For according to the worldship’s calculations, the system’s star is in the process of going nova. He slips the head-mask off, and looks up at the Master Shaper.

“It appears the system has suddenly become unstable.”

The shaper lets out a low snarl. “Systems do not just become unstable.”

“This one has.” Ch’roka turns towards the adjutant in charge of the helm. “We need to break orbit and go to darkspace.”

A sharp nod of the head from the adjutant, and the worldship breaks orbit, slowly leaving Myrkr behind.

“Sir?”

Ch’roka looks down at the adjutant. “What is it?”

“We can’t go to darkspace.”

Horror colors both the Prefect’s and the Master Shaper’s features. “What? Why not?”

“We appear to be in some type of Mass Shadow, as if there is a planet here, but nothing show on our sensors, and every time we try to attune the dovin basils to its gravitic signature, it changes.”

Another adjutant calls out. “Brace for impact.”

All eyes turn towards the transparent view-animal, at the wave of stellar matter flying towards them. The first shock waves, slams into the ship, the energy desperately trying to be absorbed by the dovin basils. They last for twenty-two seconds, before being overwhelmed. Less than a second later, the Baanu Raas has been turned into its composite atoms.

A Father's Blade: Chapter One

Ossus is a blasted, broken world. Four thousand years ago, the suns of the Cron Drift exploded, showering the entire region of space with enough hard radiation to flash fry entire systems into barren wastelands. Ossus, once a site of the galaxy's greatest Jedi citadel, was on the periphery of the blast radius, and though the planet was not destroyed – a majority of the vegetation and animal life was vaporized, and most of its shallow seas were evaporated, with that water vapor being ripped away from the atmosphere.

But as is the course of such things, life persevered. An array of new species, hardy desert animals and plants grew out of the existing life, and the Ysanna, secreted away in the old Jedi catacombs finally re-emerged to take up a life of wandering the lands of their Jedi ancestors.

In the years following the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, the Jedi returned to Ossus. Once more building an academy on its soil, one of many scattered around the galaxy. The leader of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker, learned the lesson of the Old Order – and the fall of Yavin's Praxeum well. He has spread the Order around, ensuring that if one Temple falls, there will always be another out there to continue the Jedi way.

But at the same time, he has made it clear that for the Jedi Order, Ossus is home.

For Tahiri Veila though, this is not home. Home is the sand-blasted rocks of the Juudland Wastes. Home is the vibrant colors of the Yavin rain forest. Home is the ice-blue eyes of Anakin Solo. All of which have been lost to her because of choices and the Yuuzhan Vong.

For Tahiri Veila, the galaxy no longer has a home for her.

The first stirrings of the day ring over the bright rays of light from the rising sun. They are the raucous caws of the flock of avians that spend the days building nests in and around the Jedi Temple on Ossus. Tahiri stands up from the meditation position she has spent the night in, the joints of her knees cracking with the sudden movement.

If she feels any discomfort from her long hours of immobility, neither her face, nor her Force presence gives it away. With a simple movement, she slips out of her cloak, allowing it to flutter to her feet, the heavy wool falling to the ground with a soft sigh of impact.

She turns her face upwards to the sun, reveling in the blue-white glow of the early morning light, feeling the warmth as it caresses her face like a long lost lover.

Her feet shift in the loose marble stones, their movements a whispered crunch. Then she takes a step forward. Then another.

When she reaches the edge of the small meditation garden, she looks down. Thirty meters below is the ground, and yet another meditation garden. Grinning, she allows herself to fall, for a second she enjoys herself-the whistle in her ears, the tug against her hair and tunic, and that little kernel of fear that maybe this time, she'll miss her timing.

As she closes with the ground, she pulls the Force to her, slowing herself down. She lands with a crunch, dropping to her knees and turning the fall into a forward roll. With a simple, graceful movement, she comes out of the roll and stands, her feet already scrunching against the white gravel as she begins her morning run.

She heads through the small town which has sprung up around the Temple, heading towards the rain forests which brush up against the spaceport. She sees other early risers out doing morning chores, with a few performing the same exercise as she herself is.

She arrives at the edge of the forest and without hesitation pushes in, slipping through the brambles and undergrowth which line the edge without concern or regard. She feels the slapping of the sticks and twigs against her face, the tugs of the vines and the thorns in her hair and on her clothes and the stones and debris on the forest floor pressing against the leathery soles of her feet - but those little discomforts are of no consequence to her.

She runs for an hour before the first stitch crops up in her side. Gasping for breath, she slows her pace, pausing at a tree where she can lean her arm to rest her head against. The pain is almost enough.

Almost.

As soon as she stops, images once more assault her. Finding Noelani trussed up in an Embrace of Pain, with the wounds from her captivity obvious – red, swollen and oozing thick blood – on her back. Then her failure to rescue Noelani - being outclassed by that female Yuuzhan Vong warrior.

Tahiri spins, and drops to the ground, leaning her back against the tree, savoring the feeling of the rough bark through her linen tunic. She glances back down the path she had come from, noticing the splotches of red at regular intervals. Frowning, she pulls her right foot towards her, noticing the large sliver of granite embedded in her foot.

She winces as she pulls the stone from her foot. She stands; her breathing evening out and as begins the long walk back to the Temple. Her mind running over a dozen different things. Trying to figure out just what is going on. Why she has been feeling a little niggle in the back of her head, the one that says she's missing something important.

Then her mind drifts back to the Yuuzhan Vong. She wonders why they attacked her and Noelani. The Alliance was at peace with the Yuuzhan Vong, and the last time she had spoken with Nas Choka, he seemed to indicate that all their military forces were accounted for. Yet what was that commander doing out there on the Outer Rim, with a full complement of warriors.

Tahiri sighs, and pushes that concern from her mind, focusing instead on the Sith. Lumiya. She suspects that Lumiya is the one who trained the Yuuzhan Vong in the ways of the Force, but Tahiri can not figure out for what purpose.

It just doesn't make sense.

"Not everything makes sense."

Startled out of her reverie, Tahiri snarls a curse in Yuuzhan Vong, pulling her saber and spinning round on her feet to face the voice. The snap-hiss of her saber igniting rings out in the near quiet of the early morning forest, startling a few nocturnal birds who had just returned to their nests. The angry buzz of her blade sounds close to her ear, and her eyes finally focus on who was standing in front of her.

And her mouth drops open, even as her blade falls from her hands.

He is a young human male, about sixteen years old. Tussled brown hair, soul-shattering blue eyes, and a dimple in his chin. He is dressed in the orange jumpsuits worn by so many at the Yavin Academy, over that is a brown Corellian-style flight jacket. His lips are twisted into a lop-sided smile which brings a sharp aching pain to the center of her heart. At his edges, he has a slight blue shine, a glow evident even in the streams of bright morning sunlight.

She whispers his name, "Anakin."

His smile grows wider as he says, "Bantha got your tongue?"

For a second, her smile falters before brightening again. "Isn't that my line?" Why does he have to look exactly the same as when he died?

"My name is Anakin Solo, and I'm dead." He speaks in a singsong tilt, almost like the gurgles of one of the many fountains which surround the Jedi Temple.

And Tahiri's smile dies - pain and anger war inside of her. Yet, in the back of her head, she has the feeling that she has had this conversation with him before. "Why are you here? Did you just come to make me feel bad?"

"I don't wear any-never, not ever," Anakin began. "I'm from Tatooine. I'm one of the Sand People."

Tahiri bites her lip absently. She recognizes this now. It is the conversation that the two of them held when they first met, so many years ago. A lifetime ago.

She racks her brain, trying to remember what comes next, when Anakin begins a long-winded spiel about her upbringing, and how she was raised on Tatooine by the Sand People. How she had been promised she wouldn't be forced to wear shoes. He ends by asking, "So, aren't you going to say something?"

She remembers the next line to this question though. "It's pretty hard to get a word in with you talking all the time."

She notices that his grin flickers into a full-fledged smile for a brief second, and then he speaks again, "sorry about that. It's just that on Tatooine there wasn't anyone near my own age to talk to. I guess I'm pretty lonely for a friend."

"I guess I could use a friend too," Tahiri replied, somewhat surprised to find that she really meant it. For a second, she wonders if Anakin's visitation has to do with how she has been so withdrawn from the other Jedi for the past fifteen years or so. With the possible exception of Noelani, she barely speaks to any of the other Jedi when not on specific missions.

"Then it's settled-we're best friends now," Anakin said with his grin once more sliding for a second into a full smile. "So are you going to tell me how you died?"

Tahiri frowns, knowing that that is not what she said.

She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Then she feels a suffocating weight against her throat and chest. A biting coldness seeping into the edges of her consciousness, even as the edges of her vision begins to fray and go dark.

She tries to scream, but can only feel clods of dirt choking her, the squirm of something slimy and alive brushing the roof of her mouth.

"Master!"

She bolts upright, her sheet grasped in her hands, bunched up tight, her heart hammering loudly in her ears. Noelani is leaning over her, her large blue eyes luminous in the dim light of Tahiri's bedroom. The bed shifts from where Noelani kneels upon it next to Tahiri's legs. Tahiri looks around the room, her eyes flickering over everything, to make sure all is where it is supposed to be, to make sure that everything is how it is supposed to be. Finally her gaze returns to Noelani. "What?"

"You were having a nightmare. Your distress woke me."

"I'm sorry, Noelani. Go on back to bed. It was just a bad dream."

The girl looks at her, as if she does not quite believe Tahiri, but finally nods her head and says, "All right. But if you need me, just call."

Tahiri watches the girl scamper out of the room, and the lays back down, tugging the thin blanket up over her shoulder as she stares at the far wall.

Even as she tries to go back to sleep, Tahiri knows that she won't sleep again tonight.

A Life Not His Own: Chapter 21

Luke stands on the bridge of the Errant Venture, Booster and Kam are there beside him staring at the screen in front of them. It is a holomessage from Coruscant, giving details of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion of the Republic’s capital, and requesting assistance from any ships close enough.

Kam Solusar is there, and Luke can feel the desire to help the capital boil in the Jedi Master. Luke turns to his friend. “I know you want to be there Kam, but we can’t. Not with the trainees on board.”

Kam nods his head. “I know Master, but it hurts for us to lose the capital. I don’t know if the Republic can stand it.”

“Does it truly matter?”

Kam takes a step back, his eyes widening as if Luke's words were a physical blow. “Of course it matters Master. How can you say otherwise?”

Luke sighs and lowers his head. “I’m sorry Kam; I just can’t seem to work up the energy. Corran and Tahiri dead, Jacen captured, Anakin Force knows where and…and…”

Luke turns away, shutting down his Force presence, pushing away his grief and pain. Kam drops his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s all right to grieve Luke.”

“I know Kam; I just never really expected that I would have to. I never thought she’d die in childbirth.”

Kam nods his head, giving Luke’s shoulder another gentle squeeze as he turns to look out at the stars. “I can understand that.”

“But I do guess Corran was right.”

“About?”

Luke makes a short sound of almost amusement. “Back before I sent him on the mission to Belkadan, I was standing in the grove where we placed the plinths to commemorate the dead. Corran was there and told me that we wouldn’t be putting one for Mara there.”

“Luke, I think you should watch this.”

Luke and Kam turn back towards Booster, and the new message. It is a news broadcast from the Corellian System.

“To recap our top story, it has been reported that the Centerpoint Station has once more activated itself. The cause of this reactivation is currently a mystery, as Centerpoint has remained inoperable since the New Republic Debacle last year.” The picture changes, displaying a blocky Corellian freighter, as it heads towards Centerpoint. “Our sources in Corellian Defense supplied us with these images of an VT-888 light freighter named the Tachyon Flier, which was reportedly seen entering Centerpoint’s hanger.”

The image changes again to display Coruscant. “Also, we have been receiving reports that the Yuuzhan Vong have finally moved against Coruscant. If the Capital-”

With a wave of his hand, Luke has turned off the transmission. His face is stony and guarded as he looks between Kam and Booster. “We need to go to Centerpoint.”

“What? Why? Besides, if going into Coruscant is too dangerous with the trainees onboard, how much more so is going to Corellia, where there’s a weapon that can destroy us with barely any effort?”

“Because, there’s a reason why Centerpoint has been inoperable since Anakin last visited it, and why it was inoperable between Anakin’s visits.”

Understanding causes Booster’s face to twist into a frown and a scowl. “Anakin controls Centerpoint?”

Luke nods his head. “Anakin is the only one who is able to operate Centerpoint, which is why NRI had him go out there. Which means, if it has suddenly become operable again…”

Kam breaks in. “That means we know where Anakin is at right now.”

“Exactly.”

Booster turns towards the crew pit. “Helm, flank speed to Centerpoint in the Corellian System.”

With a subtle shudder, the giant starship flashes into hyperspace, the stars replaced with the swirling blues. Luke can feel his features hardening, as they drive themselves closer to Centerpoint. He looks between Kam and Booster.

“When we arrive, I’ll take the Jade Shadow in, so that the Venture can pull up and get back into hyperspace, wait for me in the Sacorran System. If I’m not there a day after you, move on. I’ll either find you later or I’ll be dead. Kam, I need you and Tionne to take care of Ben and the students for me.”

“Master, let me go-”

Luke holds up his hand. “No Kam, I need you to stay with the students, they are the future of the Jedi. I just hope that we can still count Anakin among them.”

Kam nods his head, realizing that there is no point in arguing with Luke over this.

“Fifteen minutes until reversion.”

Luke glances once more out at the swirls of hyperspace. “May the Force be with you.”

With a swirl of his robes, he has turned and is taking long strides from the bridge. A weight pressing against him, as he calmly walks forward. He rides the turbolift down towards the Jade Shadow; this will be the first time he has set foot on the craft since Ben was born. Since she died. He wonders what ghosts will haunt him there.

He wonders if he will be able to see through his grief, to help Anakin see through his.

Inhale, exhale. The simple mechanics of being alive have suddenly become a chore to him.

The doors slide open, and he steps out onto the bustling hanger. Lubricant and fuel, the smells of a lifetime ago, when he was just some farm kid from nowhere, pulled into events to large for him to comprehend. As he breathes deeply of those smells, he wonders if life would have been better if he had stayed on that ball of dust all those years ago.

He shakes his head, dispelling the wanderings of his mind and looks for the Jade Shadow. He sees her in her usual landing place, having been pulled up from deep storage moments ago. She is a beautiful craft, sleek, graceful, and deadly. Like her owner.

He sighs as he trips the hatch, walking up the ramp, with a confidence on his face that he doesn’t feel. He settles into the pilot’s station, a glance behind him shows him that Artoo has appeared as if from nowhere, and is happily plugged into the astromech station.

The faithful droid tootles a greeting, and Luke turns back to the pilot console, activating the ship. He closes his eyes and exhales as he can feel the craft waking up around him, powering up. A slight shake from the main generators coming online. The whine from the repulsers and ion engines warming up. Sounds he used to love, but which remind him now of her.

A deeper, subtler shake and Luke looks out the magfield, his eyes once more seeing the cold pinpricks of stars. The comunit crackles to life. “Master Skywalker, you are green for launch.”

He gives a double-click in reply, and smoothly lifts the craft from the deck using the repulsers. The slight resistance of the magfield, and then he is through, once more surrounded by space. He punches the ion engines, and the Shadow jumps forward, speeding towards the ever looming Centerpoint.

A crackle from the comunit again, this time it is Booster’s voice saying, “We’ll be waiting for you at the rendezvous Luke, hurry up and join us.”

Luke can’t help but smile, a memory of another sad time flickering through his head, as he unconsciously balls his artificial hand into a fist. “I expect to see you there, with our lost bird in tow.”

“Copy that Luke.” Then the Errant Venture, shifts course slightly, and her engines flare into life, driving her forward. Then she seems to stretch into infinity, and is gone, disappearing once more into the safety of hyperspace.

Luke turns his attention from where she disappeared, back to Centerpoint. Back to the coming confrontation with Anakin.

As he watches, the center sphere glows brighter, and a flash of energy flies out of the station, heading to deep space. Horror rushes into Luke, as he realizes that the Centerpoint weapon had fired. “Anakin, what have you done?”

He slips the craft into the hanger, and calmly walks down the ramp. He turns to the side, and sees the freighter which Anakin came in on, and beyond that another freighter which Luke recognizes, the Lucre, the ship which Anakin, Corran and Tahiri left on so many months ago.

Luke closes his eyes, and reaches out, brushing Anakin’s Force presence.

His probe slams against the durasteel walls of Anakin’s shields.

Sighing, Luke enters the giant space station, using the Force to guide his steps. He steps into a corridor, and feels a surge of pain and grief, one so powerful and unexpected, it causes him to stumble. He turns right, and continues walking down the corridor, following the path which Anakin took. He arrives at a doorway leading towards a medcenter, and steps through. Hoping his youngest nephew is uninjured.

Without troubles he finds the medcenter, and enters, a solid tone sounds throughout the room. Within the medcenter is a bacta tank, one which is activated with a green light shining through the bubbles. Floating in the bacta is a young girl, around Anakin’s age, a deep cut on her cheek, and shoulders. He walks around the tank, and see the wounds on her back. Long jagged slices ripped into her flesh. He finishes the circuit and checks the life signs monitor. A frown comes to his face, as his hand hovers over the power button.

He checks the motion, and instead deactivates the alarm. Then he turns from the room, going back to the corridor he was in. He once more follows Anakin’s presence, searching for him.

“Go away Uncle Luke.”

Luke spins around, searching for Anakin.

“Just get off the station, and leave. We don’t need you here.”

Luke laughs at himself, as he looks up at the security cam. “Well I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A door opens somewhere ahead of him. “Please Uncle Luke? I didn’t want to do this.”

Luke hears the shuffle of metallic feet against steel floors. “Then don’t Anakin. Come back with me.”

“I can’t. Not until I’ve had my revenge.”

The stomp of metallic feet draws closer, and Luke turns back the way he was heading. A frown appears on his face at the sight of the twenty Phase II Dark Troopers stretched across the corridor. He ignites his saber, a green beacon in the dim corridor.

Luke laughs. “Do you really think that they’ll stop me?”

The troopers lift their carbines, the click of twenty safeties being removed is almost deafening. Luke cocks his arm back, holding his saber at the ready.

“Just leave Uncle Luke. Let me finish what I’ve started.”

“I can’t do that.”

A sigh sounds on the intercom, and the click of it being shut off. The troopers begin firing, a rain of deadly red bolts which Luke starts sending back towards the droids. The whoosh of a missile sounds and Luke sees it flying towards him. He grabs it with the Force and twists it around, sending it back towards the Dark Troopers.

It lands amidst them, the explosion shaking the corridor they are in.

More of the red darts fly out of the smoke and fire, and Luke bats them back towards the droids. The smoke starts to settle, and a thump shakes the ground.

Standing in the hallway is a Phase III Dark Trooper, Luke recognizing the bulky battle armor from a debriefing of Kyle Katarn. He raises his saber back up into a guard, and jumps forward. The Dark Trooper jumps as well, his jetpack bursting quickly, sending him hurtling towards the Jedi Master.

As they pass one another, Luke slams his saber into the Dark Trooper. At the same time the droid slams his fist into Luke. Luke slams into the wall at the same second which he realizes that his saber had died.

A puff of the jetpack, and the droid lands in front of Luke, its assault cannon pointed pressed against Luke’s head.

Luke lifts his saber, pointing it towards the droid’s chest, and then activates it. To his horror the beam comes out until it connects with the armor, at which time it sputters and dies.

“Cortosis?”

There is no reply, and he sighs. Luke hears the droid’s assault cannon whirling up to begin firing, and he presses a Force wall to the muzzle. Then he pushes back against the droid, sending it tumbling.

The droid fires, the explosion ripping apart the assault cannon, sending shrapnel slicing through the droid’s armor. Luke jumps up, and ignites his saber, slamming the blade into one of those cuts, wiggling it around, vaporizing the droid’s innards.

The explosion when his saber pierces the power supply lifts him and throws him further down the hall. Luke lands and rolls to a stop against a closed door. He lifts himself off the ground, gingerly touching his head, pulling the hand away and sees blood.

He straightens, and continues walking down the hallway once more.

The purple glow in the distance tells him that his journey to find Anakin is nearly at an end.

---------------------------------------

Kyp and his Dozen flash into existence above Coruscant’s ecliptic. With a feral grin, he orients his X-Wing towards the thousands of yorik coral vessels that are attacking the planet. He flicks on his com to the squadron channel.

“All right Dozen, we’re here to take care of Coruscant and kill some Vong. Any questions?”

He gets a couple nervous chitters of laughter, but no responses beyond that. With a grin still on his face, he clicks off the com.

“Zero-one?”

His astromech tootles sound over the starcraft’s speakers, even as words appear on a monitor. “Yes Kyp?”

“Get me a course to the nearest furball.”

A jagged line appears on a screen, as a directional arrow appears on the head’s up display. The line flows downwards, and heads into a mass of flickering lights in the distance. Kyp pushes his X-wing down, following the direction the arrow indicates, even as he flicks a switch, prepping his fighter for battle.

His craft arrives in the mass of coralskippers and New Republic fighters, and he aims the fighter towards a group of three skips. His engines flare into life, and his craft jumps forward, his Dozen spreading out behind him. He glances to starboard, and sees the blonde that pilots that craft watching him. Her name is Lora Tiff, and she is one of the survivors of the Dantooine massacre. He tosses her a salute as she waves at him, and he can’t help but smile.

A chime sounds over the speakers, and Kyp turns back to the front, just in time to see a trio of skips flash past his canopy. He growls low in his throat, and twists his ship back around to follow them. He falls in behind them, a glance at his monitor shows that Lora is tucked in close beside him. He squeezes the secondary trigger for his laser cannons and watches as the ruby darts flicker out towards the skip.

The low energy darts pepper the hull of the skip he’s aiming for, causing little puffs of coral to vaporize out into space. With a grin, he pulls the primary trigger sending a full powered blast towards the skip.

And nothing happens.

Kyp’s eyes widen, as he checks his monitor again, and it shows what he knows already. The skip placed a void in front of his full energy blast.

An explosion on his starboard aft, slews his craft around, he glances back just in time to see an orange flightsuit flash past his canopy. He looks down, and sees the icon which represents Lora is gone.

“Zero-one, peg me the skip who got Lora.”

His lips tighten, and anger flashes in his eyes, as he fires a few more full powered blasts at the skip he was originally aiming for. As that skip explodes, an icon blinks on his HUD and a circle appears around one of the moving rocks that dot his view.

The skip dives, and Kyp follows, firing the stutter bolts at the skip in question.

“This is for Lora.”

After a moment more he sends the full powered blasts, and snarls as they are once more absorbed by a void. He sends more full powered blasts until they rip through the clear canopy vaporizing the Vong who sits within it.

Zero-One flashes a warning, and a look of horror crosses his face as a cruiser analog suddenly decelerates, coming to a near stop, and sending bursts of plasma out towards Kyp and his Dozen. Kyp’s warning sense screams, as he dodges the balls of superheated matter, and arms his proton torpedoes.

He flips on his com, as he targets the cruiser. “All right Dozen, I’m sending coordinates now.”

He doesn’t hear any com-clicks in reply.

He only hears static.

He looks down at the monitor and sees all the icons which represent the Dozen are gone except his. His mouth drops open in shock.

“They’re all dead.”

His hand convulses and sends two torpedoes flying towards the cruiser. Kyp grits his teeth, and slams his fist against the console. “They’re all dead, and I lead them to their deaths.”

Zero-One sounds an alarm, just as the X-Wing rocks from an impact. Kyp turns towards the coral vessel, and his eyes flash yellow for a second.

“Enough!”

He stutter-fires at the cruiser, and with the Force grabs the Void which absorbs the bolts. With a snarl, he exerts pressure in the Force, moving the void back until it touches the hull of the coral vessel. As he releases his control, he watches as the cruiser rips itself apart as it is pulled into singularity.

Exhausted, he leans back in his crash couch, and pulls his starfighter up, and away from the battle, even as the first of his tears start to flow.

Jedi Adept: A Father's Blade: Prologue

Dramatis Personae

• Chase Polliska – street urchin (male human)
  
• Cere Hollista – Administrator, BioTech Industries (female human)
  
• Kyp Durron – Jedi Master (male human)
  
• Lumpawaroo "Waroo" – Corellian Sympathizer (Wookie male)
  
• Noelani Darklighter – Jedi Apprentice (female human)
  
• Ralrracheen "Ralrra" – Alliance Sympathizer (Wookie male)
  
• Rand Shepherd – Corellian Agent (male human)
  
• Tahiri Veila – Jedi Knight (female human)
  
• Thesim Gra – BioTech Scienties (male human)

---

I can't wait any longer to train you. You must learn how to build your lightsabers-and how to use them-in the right way. The galaxy has changed, and you must meet the challenge. A true Jedi is forced to adapt or be destroyed.
- Luke Skywalker to Jacen, Jaina, Tenel Ka & Lowbacca (Lightsabers)

Prologue

Huff Darklighter stares out the windscreen at the unending expanses of the Dune Sea. Rolling waves of sand flash by beneath the repulsors of his landspeeder, a plume of sand billows up and out in his wake. He glances at his passenger, a bundle of gangly knees and bright blond hair being whipped around by the wind. A flash of blue eyes, and a bright smile – lets him know that she's aware of his attention, and then she turns back to the piece of chocolate in her lap.

Noelani Darklighter at four years old is bright and precocious. She has a knack for getting into more mischief than her adoptive father Huff could ever imagine. Not even his eldest boy, Biggs, would create as much mischief as that young girl.

Yet, despite the fact that she is apt to reprogram the food preparation station or re-wire the nanny droid's vocoder so that it only speaks in Rodian, Huff cannot seem to bring himself to punish her.

And as he directs the landspeeder away from Mos Eisley, heading towards the large, sprawling homestead that he shares with his wife and children, he knows that he favors this, his adopted daughter more than the sons and daughters that were born to him.

He doesn't know if it is because she is an orphan, delivered to him by his eldest boy's best friend, Luke Skywalker. Or if it is because she reminds him of just how much fun it is to be young. But as the featureless sands flash by outside the landspeeder, he cannot help but consider that it is because of her ability to generate mischief.

He thinks back to the visit with the local water distributor, Jeh Brightflyer. He had had reports that the man was skimming some of the water for the black market, selling the product without giving Huff his own cut of the profits. So, like any good businessman, he went to visit, and like a good father decided to bring his youngest child with him. While he and Brightflyer were discussing the missing portions of the shipments, Noelani had managed to get access to the personal logs which Brightflyer kept on his console and then the little scamp had sent them as a message to everyone in his list of contacts.

He chuckles at the memory of getting the incriminating message on his comlink while the man sat before him announcing his innocence.

Huff grins at the small blonde girl. She seems to notice his attention, and looks up at him and smiles brightly. He faces forward once more, and comes into sight of his homestead.

A thin black wisp of smoke is coming from the location, and Huff frowns, stamping down hard on the accelerator. The landspeeder jumps forward, the landscape outside flashing by increasingly faster.

He yanks hard on the steering column, twisting the speeder sideways, sending up another plume of gritty sand from the compression forces of the repulsers. He shuts the engines down, and then is up and out of the speeder, hoping out through the open air cabin despite the arthritis in his knees and the fact that his lower back has been giving him problems the past two years.

He pulls out his blaster pistol from the back seat and looks down at Noelani. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He takes a cautious step into the entry to the homestead, carefully walking down the steps. He comes into the main room and there finds his greatest fear.

His family. His wife. His children.

All slaughtered.

And for the second time in his life, Huff's very existence shatters.

The blaster drops to the floor with a clatter, and Huff rushes to Lanal's side. He cries out in pain as he kneels beside her unmoving form.

"Mama?"

Huff looks up to see Noelani standing in the doorway, looking lost and broken as she looks out at the remains of their family.

"Noelani…I told you to wait for me."

The girl rubs at her eyes, and then rushes from the room towards the kitchen.

"Noelani! Wait!"

Huff jumps up, and runs over to his discarded blaster, scooping it up as he chases after Noelani. He finds her standing in the doorway to the kitchen. A hand covering her mouth as she looks at the Tusken Raider spread in a bundle of rags on the floor. A jug of sweetwater is knocked over, the precious fluid spreading out around the drunken sandperson.

In his surprise at the sight, Huff once more drops his blaster.

The Tusken shifts and Huff realizes that they need to leave. He puts his hand onto Noelani shoulder but she shrugs him away. Looking down, he sees that she's picked up his dropped blaster and has taken a step towards the sandperson.

"Noelani, come back here, now!" He hisses, fear clutching at his heart.

She casts a glance over her shoulder at him and pins him with her gaze. Tears stream down her face, emotions battle for supremacy in her eyes. For a second, Huff is afraid of the girl. Of the powerful gaze that she turns upon him. It contains a depth, an intensity which he has never seen before – it is almost like staring into the noon-time suns.

She turns away from him and lifts the blaster.

The sound of the discharge echoes loudly in the kitchen. The stench of scorched flesh a sweet, sickly smell that clogs his nostrils.

The blaster drops to the tile floor with a clatter, and Noelani looks back at Huff. The power behind her eyes gone, hidden once more. All that remains is a scared four year old little girl.

She rushes towards him, and he scoops her up, holding her tightly as he backs out of the kitchen. The girl nestles her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, and he can feel the tears as they flow from her eyes, the shake of her body as she sobs.

Between the tears and the sobs, Huff makes out a broken string of words, "I sorry, Papa. I… I sorry."

A Life Not His Own: Chapter 20

General Ba’tra stares up at the ceiling of the Orbital Defense Headquarters. Allowing the view from the optical ceiling there calm his nerves, ease his tension. This is what he was trained for.

Defense. Attack. To destroy the enemy

His lips pull back from his teeth, revealing the sharpened fangs. Parts of him love this. Seeing the enemy spread above him, the thousands upon thousands of vessels as they revert from wherever the Vong go for faster than light travel. The sharpened tang in the air from the fear and excitement pheromones of a half dozen other species.

Lowering his eyes from the optical ceiling he turns his attention back to the holographic display of the system, the expanse of red which represents the Vong flotilla, the slowly circling ball which represents Coruscant, and the mass of blue arrayed between the planet and the Vong which represents the Republic fleets.

Of most concern to Ba’tra is the green though. The green represents the mine field and orbital platforms which are directly beneath his command.

Finally the red stops amassing, and Ba’tra’s ears twitch as he stares at the hologram, wondering what the Vong are planning. From beneath their flotilla a mass of the red starts flying out, heading towards Coruscant, their colors flickering from red to yellow.

Ba’tra’s ears flatten against the back of his head as he turns to his aid, a serious looking young human girl. “Why did they switch colors?”

The aid types something on her pad, then looks to Ba’tra. “Because their IFF transponders just came on, sir.” She hesitates, and then pulls the ear piece out, a look of horror on her face, as the fear pheromones start to pour off her, causing Ba’tra’s nose to twitch.

“They’re broadcasting.”

Ba’tra taps his ear piece twice, setting it to the general communication channel, and hears the mass of noise, a babble of voices which he can’t distinguish. Frowning he hits his ear piece again and then deftly touches one of the moving yellow lights.

“…currently holding five thousands refugees. I repeat this is the Dawn’s Light from Ornos and we are…”

He touches a different light.

“Jumping Shark and we currently hold seventeen hundred refugees. Rep-”

Yet another light.

“-five hundred ref-”

“-acks and curr-”

He snarls and taps his ear piece, putting it back on the command channel. He looks around at the crew. “I don’t care what you’re hearing on the com channels. We stay at our posts, do our jobs and try our best to ensure that Coruscant does not fall. Is that understood?”

He gets a chorus of affirmatives, and turns back to the hologram, anger smoldering in his eyes as he watches hundreds, if not thousands of yellow dots swarm towards them.

--------------------------------------------------

Danni Quee keeps her hand grasped against one edge of her console, as the blast boat which makes up the primary firepower of the Wild Knights squadron twists into a dangerous spiral. Her eyes scan the controls, and she grins as she sees the readings indicative of a yammosk.

She presses the ear piece to break into the command channel. “We’ve got the yammosk carrier, I’m sending out the IFF information on it now.”

She hears Saba’s hissing voice in reply. “Thiz iz good Danni. Knightz prepare for package drop.”

Danni flicks another few switches, focusing a sensor array on the vessel carrying the yammosk.

A light starts to flicker into existence around the blastboat, one created by the Jedi Knight Izal Waz. The sphere of golden light covers the blastboat as well as the x-wings of the Wild Knightz as Saba hisses lightly with laughter.

“Dropz the package”

As usual, the Vong cruiser they were aiming for had gotten nervous and aimed a singularity at the ball of light, dragging everything within it towards the singularity.

“Now!”

The ball of light fades away and the the x-wings jump away from the blastboat firing proton torpedoes at the cruiser analong. The dovin basil handlers on the Vong craft react accordingly, drawing the singularities away from the still dissipating ball of light to catch the explosions of the proton torpedoes.

They never even see the black two-ton slab of durasteel which their initial singularity had accelerated to a sizable fraction of the speed of light.

As the coral vessel disintegrates from the collision Saba begins hissing with laughter again, and Danni cannot help but grin as well.

She turns back to her sensors, and her breath catches in her throat. The experimental Gravity Amphilication Modulation Sensor is going haywire.

Her grin turns into a full-fledge smile as she yells in joy, startling Saba. The Jedi Master turns towards Danni.

“You scared this one Danni Quee. What iz wrong?”

Danni shakes her head, as she continues watching the data scroll across the mechanism. “Nothing Saba, nothing at all. In fact something wonderful is happening.”

She presses a few buttons, and then turns towards Saba. “I need a gravity well generator or a crystal grav trap.”

Saba turns in her seat to face the young scientist. “What?”

Danni stays focused on her panels. “I think I can jam them. The yammosks I mean. I need a gravity well generator though.”

Saba’s eyes narrow slightly. “Thiz one will make the request.”

Danni does not answer, her attention already taken up by her equipment.

-----------------------------------

Wedge Antilles stares at the generals and admirals around him.

“Why exactly does this Jedi need an interdictor?”

Wedge slowly focuses on the speaker. An Arconan general who name escapes Wedge at the moment. “Because she asked nicely.”

The general sputters in reply, and Wedge slowly grins. “Now, which of those interdictors sitting on the far side of Coruscant’s primary can we bring into Coruscan’t gravity well for that Jedi’s needs?”

Admiral Salmainth, the Noghri in charge of black ops, speaks in his gravely voice. “The Corusca Gem is probably best”

Wedge beckons over one of the aides. “Contact the Corusca Gem’s captain, and put her under the command of Jedi Sabatyne.”

As the aide salutes and walks away, Wedge activates the com system again. “Jedi Sabatyne?”

“This one iz here General Antillez.”

“Momentarily you will be contacted by the captain of the Corusca Gem, to provide you access to its gravity well generators.”

“Thank you, general.”

“Can you tell me why you need them? Some of the generals around me don’t seem to understand.” As he says this he looks pointedly at the Arconan general and smiles as she squirms slightly beneath his steely gaze and the Jedi’s hissing laughter.

After a moment, Saba speaks again. “This one waz assigned to work with a scientist by the Master. She believez it possible to jam the yammosk, and seeks access to the gravity well generator for thiz end.”

“Thank you Jedi Sabatyne, please keep us informed of your progress.”

“This one will, General Antillez.”

The com channel shuts off, and Wedge looks towards the Arconian again. Her name suddenly flashing into his mind. Yill Osool. “I trust that that is reason enough to lend the Jedi this interdictor General Osool?”

Osool does not reply, just tersely nods her head, and returns to coordinating her portion of the battle as Wedge turns the holographic display to show him the full battle. His eyes narrowing slightly as a swatch of the red dots turn yellow. He looks up at one of the battle coordinators.

“What is happening here?”

The coordinator looks up from her datapad, a look of concern on her face. “We just received IFF information for those. Apparently they’re slave transports.”

Wedge frowns slightly. “What are they doing?”

“Accelerating towards Coruscant.”

Wedge looks at her, horror dawning on his face as comprehension dawns. “Contact shield control, have them reinforce the power to the shields. Those shields can’t go down.” He looks at the mass of yellow advancing towards the Republic Forces and Coruscant.

Then he looks back towards the coordinator. “Also contact ODH and tell them that to not activate the mines on the prisoner transports. Save them for the Vong warships.”

“Yes sir” Ignoring the lieutenant’s salute, he turns his attention once more to the display as the yellow quickly closes.

--------------------------------------------------------

Jaina sits in her cockpit, happy to once more be flying with Rogue Squadron. She looks out the canopy and sees the expanse of stars, knowing that some of those reflected dots of lights are in actuality Yuuzhan Vong warcraft.

She glances over at her wingmate, a human female named Illisa Tiv and smiles as the perky blonde waves at her. She wiggles her fingers in response, and then settles back into the crashseat waiting for the command to do something. She looks down at one of her displays, and frowns as it shows a mass of yellow dots flying towards their position.

She frowns at them for a second and then hears the click of the command channel being opened.

“Rogues, ignore the yellows and let them through.”

Slightly confused, Jaina clicks her com twice in quick succession and strains her eyes to see what is advancing. Within moments she is able to, as a CR90 cruiser comes hurtling towards her.

She pushes the stick down and away causing her x-wing to roll out of the path of the vessel. Frowning she allows her craft to come back to a rest so she can watch as the ship continues its path towards Coruscant.

Her frown deepens as she continues to watch as it is ignored by the Golan stations and the mine field. Confused, she aims a sensor sweep towards Coruscant and sees the normal dual layered shields as they flow in opposing directions over the planet.

And as the corvette explodes in a ball of orange and yellow, causing blue electrical discharge to flicker over the top shields - she understands.

As the Force screams from the death throes of hundreds of sentinents - she understands.

The refugees are a sacrifice for the Vong’s blood-thirsty gods.

She growls slight, and twists her X-wing back into position as an HT-2200 flies past her wingman. She winces minutes later as the Force howls once more.

Finally her displays lights up with targeting information and the command channel crackles to life once more.

“All right Rogues, light them up. We have some coral to break.”

She pushes forward on her throttle and her X-wing jumps forward, a quick glance at her display shows that her wingman is tucked in tight aft and starboard beneath her. She starts slowly rocking her craft side to side as the slews of balls of super-heated plasma flash past her canopy. She closes with the first flight of skips and starts peppering their lead with stutter shots.

A joy rises up inside her at the prospect of destroying the Vong culpable for the deaths of so many innocents this day.

She shudders as the death throes of another thousand sentients washes over her.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Alema and Numa Rar duck under the branches of the tree, Lu’ath following behind them quickly. Around and about them, a group of a hundred Nosuarians and other Shamed heretics rush away from the Yuuzhan Vong base.

Lu’ath spares another glance towards the two nubile Jedi, still wondering why they had hidden who they were from him and the Nosuarians for the weeks and months they worked to build up the resistance on New Plympto.

A leather flap of wings flickers past overhead, and Lu’ath lifts his blaster, and tracks the blast bug. He pauses for a stop, and pulls the trigger causing the blastbug to evaporate in an explosion that is half blaster bolt and half Vong weapon. Without another thought he starts running once more.

Finally, the group comes into view of the ancient freighter which has been supplied to the Resistance leadership to get them off the world. Alema, at least Lu’ath thinks it is Alema, stops at the ramp and quickly enters a code, causing a ramp to swiftly lower.

Lu’ath boards the craft, looking around the interior in half amazement. He had heard stories of flying in metal craft, but still has not been in one. But he can understand this; after all he is a Yuuzhan Vong.

Finally everyone is aboard, and the ship lifts off from the surface of New Plympto and rockets towards space. The ship takes up a stationary orbit around Karsten, and Lu’ath looks out towards New Plympto, noticing how the green of vegetation is slowly turning black.

He presses his hand against the smooth transparisteel of the viewport, as New Plympto is slowly turned into a barren wasteland, as lifeless as the moon they currently orbit.

His voice is soft, a eulogy for an entire world. “There is no death, there is the Force.”

A Life Not His Own: Chapter 19

Anakin awakens to the sound of the doorway slurping open, a comforting weight and warmth pressed tightly against his side, wrapped inside his arms. He opens his eyes and looks down, seeing Nelani nestled in his arms, her own wrapped tightly around him.

He looks up at the warriors standing there, waiting.

A shaper walks in, a crazed look in his eyes as his headdress wriggles slightly. Nelani makes a noise of disgust at his appearance.

“Ah, my two Jeedai specimen are awake” The shaper bends down, and touches Nelani’s chin. “I do think it would be interesting to attempt the protocols from that heretic Meezhan Kwaad upon her, but the trials are more important. You two should feel honored; you get to test the voxyn.”

“Voxyn?”

“You will see.” He turns and leaves the cell. “Bring them.”

Anakin’s joints and muscles groan as he stands, he turns and offers his hand to Nelani who uses it to help herself up. Then rather than dropping her hand, he laces his fingers with hers, and side-by-side they walk through the door.

They exit into a shaper’s laboratory. In a cage along one wall is a six-legged creature, which is drooling and straining against the restraints placed around it. The shaper’s face twists into enjoyment at the sight of the creature. Then he turns to face Anakin and Nelani.

“This is a voxyn.” Again, the half-crazed chuckle comes from him. “She hunts Jeedai.”

He nods his head, and a door opens, revealing a wide expanse of grassland. Nelani gasps and the shaper looks at her oddly. “What? Did you expect our worldships to be all corridors and cells? No, we modeled them after our worlds, and then grow buildings upon them.”

Two warriors step away from the wall, a flash of metal attracting Anakin’s attention. He focuses on their hands and sees his and Nelani’s sabers. As the warriors arrive at the portal, they cock back their arms and throw the sabers out into the grassland.

The shaper’s face twists once more into the grin. “Just so the experiment is more like real conditions, you have the chance of weapons. You have a two minute head start. The voxyn will continue to be released until you are captured or killed. Their release will occur in random numbers and increments after the initial voxyn have been released.”

The flat nonchalant way which the shaper says that catches Anakin off-guard and it takes him a second to process it. But as soon as he understands, he pulls on Nelani’s hand dragging her out through the portal and into the field.

They get twenty meters from the shaper’s laboratory, and the Force floods back to them, Anakin grins, as he stretches out his hand, calling to the lambent in his saber, calling to his saber. A flash of metal and the weapon is once more in his hand, a thump beside him, and he looks down and sees Nelani has her own saber as well.

Having a weapon in his hand makes him feel better, and he touches the Force. He can feel it coursing through him, revitalizing him, strengthening his abused muscles and body. Beside him, he can feel Nelani doing the same; he wraps her within a Force embrace, somewhat surprised at his actions.

Even more surprising is when he feels her gently caress him in return.

A roar, unlike anything either of them has heard before sounds from behind them, an ear-splitting sound which almost qualifies as a physical punch. The two grasp onto the Force, pulling it to them and run faster.

Anakin looks around, trying to get an idea on how they can survive. He sees a copse of stunted, twisted trees and runs that way. As they arrive, he tosses a glance behind him, and notices a rustling movement in the grass.

He looks at Nelani. “Into the trees.”

She uses a Force powered jump to get near the top, and as soon as he is certain that she’s settled he jumps into a neighboring tree. His eyes narrow as he watches the rustling movement come closer. Then the voxyn’s spiked head pokes out of the grass, swaying slightly from side to side. It stops its movements, and looks up into the tree, staring directly at Nelani.

The voxyn jumps forward, slamming hard against the tree, and Nelani lets out a gasp of surprise and grips the tree tighter. As it falls towards the ground, Anakin makes his move. Using the Force, he propels himself towards the voxyn, igniting his blade as he nears. As he moves past the animal, his blade cuts through it, removing the creature’s head. He lands and rolls to a stop, noticing a cloud of green smoke coming from the remains of the creature.

He looks up the tree, a twist of a smile on his lips. “Come on down, and let’s keep going, see if we can find a ship off this rock.”

A flash of movement and she drops beside him. She straightens, her smile matches his. He takes her hand, and they once more start running. His eyes start scanning around them, and he reaches out through the Force trying to find any threats.

To the left, the ground drops away into what appears to be another copse of trees. Anakin leads them that way, and they soon find themselves in a swamp, slowly wading through thigh deep water. They keep their movements slow, cautious, stilling the water displaced by their passage as much as possible with the Force.

“Reach out with the Force, search for danger, and try to feel things through the lambent in your saber.”

She gives a quick bob of the head. “Yes, Master.”

Anakin winces. “Don’t call me master. If I was good enough to be a master, we wouldn’t be here.”

Nelani stops and turns towards him. Anakin follows suit. She reaches out her hand and touches his face. “Don’t say that. I know, we both know, why we’re here. I was too weak; I was not able to defend myself, so you surrendered so that I might have that much more life.”

Anakin reaches up and touches the tear, as it slowly makes it way down the side of her face. “It might have been weak of me, but I couldn’t watch while someone else I knew died.”

Nelani turns away, and once more heads forward. “We all die sometime, Anakin. That’s just a fact of life.”

He shakes his head, as he begins following her. “You’re too young to be so bitter.”

“And you’re not, Lord Vader?”

Anakin suddenly stops, coldness seeping into the Force. He turns in a circle, ignoring the ripples his movements cause. His voice is a hiss. “Into the trees. Now.”

Nelani jumps, using the Force to push herself higher, and grasps a branch. She leverages herself up, her saber held at the ready, as she watches the swamp around them.

Anakin lowers himself, and backs up against the roots of the trees; his muddy head barely visible against the bark, his ice-blue eyes the only giveaway of his position.

Be still! His Force command calms Nelani, a sign that he has a plan and a purpose. She presses her body tighter against the tree, bracing herself into a position where she doesn’t need to move.
The rustle of waves lapping against her tree, and she glances down. She almost has a panic attack when she can’t see Anakin, but he opens his eyes for a briefest second, a quick glance up at her, then he closes them, and he is once more just part of the scenery. She finds herself smiling that he would be so attuned to her feelings, that he would take that second to reassure her, that he had not abandoned her.

The sound of rustling waves comes again, this time closer. She hears the guttural bark of the Yuuzhan Vong language. The warriors advancing upon them are making no attempt at hiding their presence. She seems them now, four warriors, their amphistaffs wrapped around their arms, as they stalk through the swamp.

A fifth rustle of water and Nelani focuses on it. As she watches, a snout pokes out, mean eyes, bristling head spines and sharpened teeth. A voxyn. Then the snout disappears back into the water. The only sign it is there the whisper rustle of water.

She opens herself to the Force, showing Anakin what she sees. The snout pops up out of the water again, staring straight at her. Her heart drops, as that fang-filled mouth opens. A forked-tongue flicks out of its mouth, and then it lets loose with a screeching roar.

The wave of sound slams into Nelani, and it is all she can do to remain lodged in her spot in the tree. Her ears ring, and dizziness assails her, and she can feel the sharp alarm from Anakin.

The warriors gather around the voxyn, looking up at her. The animal rushes over, and reaches up with its front two paws, pushing against her tree. The warriors advance forward, and all stand with their back towards Anakin. One pulls something from a bandolier, and throws it into the tree.

Nelani’s eyes widen as the blastbug flies towards her, she stands up, and jumps, putting a Force wall between herself and the Vong. As the warriors start pointing and screaming, the blast bug hits the wall and explodes, knocking Nelani even higher.

Barely heard over the sound of the explosion is the sound of Anakin’s saber igniting. It takes him but a second to decapitate the first warrior, and another moemnt to stab the second warrior in the throat.

Nelani falls down, grabbing at a tree limb. Her hand catches hold, and pain flares in her wounded shoulder. Her body twists, slamming her chest into a lower branch. The shock of the second impact causes her muscles to spasm, and she loses her grip on the limb, falling down through the trees, slamming into the water.

Anakin’s next slice is caught by the amphistaff of the third warrior. He flicks his blade around, stabbing behind him, and hears the fourth warrior grunt from the impact. He ducks under the slash of the third warrior’s amphistaff, and turns on the ball of his feet so that he faces the fourth warrior. He brings his blade up from beneath slicing through the weak joint where the leg meets the hip. Anakin saws his saber, and feels it tug free, slicing the leg away. The fourth warrior plunges beneath the water with a gurgle.

Nelani’s opens her eyes, her lungs burning at the need to breathe. Her head breaks the surface of the water, water sputtering from her mouth. She gains her footing, and starts to stand, when she is struck from behind, the weight of the voxyn pushing her down. Before her head crashes beneath the water she can hear her scream.

Nelani’s scream distracts him, and the warrior uses his amphistaff as a whip, the tip wrapping around Anakin’s shoulder and cutting into his back. Anakin pushes with the Force, and a wave of water washes against the warrior, toppling him over. Anakin turns to where Nelani was, and sees the voxyn’s head submerge. He opens himself to the Force, pushing at the animal. The voxyn’s head lifts back up above the water, and a stream of green bile shoots out of its mouth.

Anakin dodges, the bile slamming into the tree behind him, eating away at the bark.

The voxyn leaps towards him, and Anakin throws up a Force wall, letting the voxyn land on it, then he tips the wall and pushes, throwing the voxyn against the tree behind him. Anakin moves against the voxyn, as it opens its mouth, a gurgling noise as it prepares to spit acid at him again.

He snarls and shoves his blade forward, stabbing it deep into the back of the voxyn’s throat. Then the Force tells him to move, and he pulls back his blade and dives to the side, the sound of an amphistaff hitting the water right behind him. He surfaces and sees the voxyn thrashing about, smoke pouring from his mouth and ears.

Nelani surfaces, gasping for breath, a shiver running through her, as her body spasms. She looks around, and sees Anakin stabbing the voxyn, and rolling away as a warrior slices at him. She pulls her saber back to her hand, and jump towards the warrior, shoving her blade into the warrior’s neck. The warrior collapses, and Nelani drops to her knees, the water lapping at her chin.

Anakin splashes over to her. “You all right?”

She looks up at him, a shiver running through her body again. “It scratched my back.”

Anakin walks around her, and sees the six long gashes on her shoulders, and frowns. He holds his hand out to her, helping her up. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

Nelani nods her head, and they head off once more. They walk for an hour, and near a ridge. Anakin creeps up to the top of it, and looks down upon a small city. He frowns as he sees a dozen different species walking around. Then sighs as he realizes that each of the sentients wandering that city is sporting the white nodes of slavecoral.

He gazes around, and notices a small cave off to the side. He taps Nelani on the shoulder, and she looks up at him, her skin pale, and beads of sweat stand out on her forehead. He frowns, worried over the sudden onset of the fever. He gestures towards the small cave, and she nods her head.

The stand, and walk down to the city, him supporting Nelani most of the way. As they enter the streets the denizens ignore them, going about their business as if the two Jedi were a normal part of the routine.

They continue slowly, heading towards the small cave, sticking as close to the buildings as possible. Soon they come to the point where they will have to cross the main through way for the town. Anakin hesitates at the corner of the building, a frown settling on his features.

Nelani slumps against the wall, her body shivering uncontrollably. She looks at Anakin, and sees the frown. “Don’t be sad.”

Startled Anakin turns towards her. “What?”

She stretches out one of her hands, caressing his face. “Don’t be sad. Promise me?”

“I Promise. Why would I be sad?”

She lowers herself to the ground. “Because you already are.” Then she closes her eyes, as her breathing lessens.

“Nelani!”

He touches her forehead, growling at the fever she has. He reaches out with the Force, feeling the infection as it attacks her body. He pulses the Force through her, trying to expunge the virus.

He brushes the mud-caked dirt away from her face. “Don’t you dare die on me Nelani.”

Frowning as he looks around, he touches her forehead once more, submerging her into a healing trance. Then he picks up her body, cradling it against his chest, and heads towards the cave he had seen. As he nears it, he realizes that it is much bigger than he had originally guessed. With a quick glance behind him he walks into it, starting down the path into its darkened interior.

He walks down the cave, casting looks over his shoulder every few meters. Then he reaches the end and realizes that the cave is slowly being filled with the refuse of the slaves, all manner of mechanical devices.

But what attracts Anakin’s attention, what draws him, is the YV-888 light freighter, sitting there immediately before him. His face twisting into a smile for the first time since Nelani collapsed; he walks around the starship. He sees some writing on the side, and steps back to read it, Tachyon Flier. Still smiling he quickly boards the craft, laying Nelani on a blast couch in the common area.

As he walks towards the bridge, he depresses the close button for the ramp, suppressing a shout of joy as it works.

He flicks some switches, as the engines thrum to life. He glances at the consumables on board, frowning at the levels of air and fuel. Unsatisfied, he closes off the two additional decks, and pumps the air out, leaving air only in the areas where he and Nelani are.

He flicks a few switches, and pulls up the navicomputer. He inputs a course, checking to see if he would have enough fuel to get there, his smile becoming greater as he realizes he does.

He runs some diagnostics, getting clean reports for them all. Then he checks the weapons system, nodding his head happily. He turns on the main power, feeling the thrum of the main engines. He stands up, to activate the secondary generators and the air cyclers for the cockpit and common room where Nelani is. As he does so, the thrum fades, and the lights start to dim. He growls, and slams his fist against the panel, and the thrum comes back, and the lights brighten.

He returns to his seat, and activates the repulsers, slowly allowing the Flier to drift forward from the cave. He nears the edge, and hesitates a moment, unsure of what using the main sublights would do in the confines of the worldship. He looks out upon the small town, and decides it doesn’t matter, getting Nelani help is more important. He activates the main sublights, and pushes the thrust to maximum. With a roar, the Flier jumps forward, rocketing past the village. He pulls back on the flightstick, aiming the ship towards the roof. As he closes the distance, he activates the Merr-sonn torpedo array, and fires a salvo.

They detonate against the coral, and chunks rain down upon him. Anakin fires again, and more coral pings against the hull. He fires his third salvo, the explosion ripping a hole through the coral skin of the worldship, and the Flier slips through and into space.

He twists the craft around, and activates the shields. A glance at the tactical display shows a dozen skips coming up to meet him, and he heads towards deep space, waiting for the navicomputer to tell him it has a valid hyperspace jump.

The ship shakes as the lead skip opens fire, raining plasma upon the shields. With an explosion of sparks, the shields fail.

The incoming tone chimes again at the same time as the navicomputer. Anakin reaches for the hyperspace levers and as the Flier shakes with another impact, yanks them toward him.