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Topic:
The Lost Sword (LOTF AU: dark J/T, J/J, Ben/Jys, H/L, Valin, Kyle, Allana) Chapter 17 Up 3/20
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rebel_cheese
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
7/6/06 5:40pm
Subject:
The Lost Sword (LOTF AU: dark J/T, J/J, Ben/Jys, H/L, Valin, Kyle, Allana) Chapter 17 Up 3/20
- Date Edited:
3/20/07 6:19pm (58 edits total)
Edited By:
rebel_cheese
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The Lost Sword
Setting: an unnamed (for now) Vongformed world, Coruscant, Ossus
Timeframe: 42 ABY, LOTF, some post-LOTF, probable AU
Genre(s): pretty much everything, although Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, and Mystery are the dominant ones.
Character(s): a big ensemble cast
Summary: Jaina Solo vanishes from the Force as the battle for Coruscant begins. A great darkness threatens to fill her void. Now it's up to Kyle Katarn and the next generation of Jedi to find her before it's too late. But what they discover is something far more sinister than mere darkness . . .
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OCs.
Dramatis Personae
Allana Djo-Solo: child, ex-princess of Hapes Cluster (female human)
Arien Yage: Vice-Admiral for the Rebellion (female human)
Ben Skywalker: Jedi Apprentice (male human)
C-3PO: protocol droid
Cal Omas: Chief of State (male human)
Callista: Potentium Empress, Lady of the Sith (female human)
Cara Ferael: Jedi Apprentice (female human)
Cem Kayit: Vanguard Twelve (female human)
Cha Niathal: Supreme Commander, Galactic Alliance (female Mon Calamari)
Cilghal: Jedi Master (female Mon Calamari)
Corran Horn: Jedi Grand Master (male human)
Daala: admiral for the Potentium (female human)
Danni Quee: scientist, ex-Jedi Knight (female human)
Darth Krayt: Sith Lord (male human)
Doran Tainer: Jedi Knight (male human)
Drevis Vero: Rogue Three (male human)
Fyor Rodan: rebel leader (male human)
Gilad Pellaeon: admiral of the Rebellion (male human)
Han Solo: captain, Millennium Falcon (male human)
Hess'irolia'nuruodo (Irolia): Chiss admiral (female Chiss)
Hilis Fer'lia: Jedi Knight (male Bothan)
Jaden Korr: Jedi Knight (male human)
Jagged Fel: Vanguard Leader (male human)
Jaina Solo: Jedi Knight (female human)
Jysella Horn: Jedi Knight (female human)
Kam Solusar: Jedi Master (male human)
Kirana Ti: Jedi Master (female Dathomiri)
Kitara Shilian: Jedi Knight (female Monilinian)
Kyle Katarn: Jedi Master (male human)
Lando Calrissian: general of Smugglers' Alliance detachment (male human)
Leia Organa Solo: diplomat, Jedi Knight (female human)
Lowbacca: Jedi Knight (male Wookiee)
Lumiya: Dark Lady of the Sith (female human cyborg)
Lyria Weroin: Jedi Knight (female human)
Malinza Thanas: rebel leader (female human)
Mateo Karis: Starrider Three (male human)
Meredith Briors: Vanguard Eight (female human)
Octa Ramis: Jedi Master (female human)
R2-D2: astromech droid
Saba Sebatyne: Jedi Master (female Barabel)
Sannah: Jedi Knight (female Melodie)
Sath Siev: Rogue Seven (female Sullustan)
Shawnk'yr'nuruodo (Kyrn): Vanguard Four (female Chiss)
Soontir Fel: Lead Syndic, Chiss Territories (male human)
Syal Antilles: Rogue Leader (female human)
Tahiri Veila: fallen Jedi Knight (female human)
Talon Karrde: Smugglers' Alliance second-in-command (male human)
Tekli: Jedi Knight (female Chadra-Fan)
Tendra Calrissian: Lando Calrissian's associate and wife (female human)
Tesar Sebatyne: Jedi Knight (male Barabel)
Thrackan Sal-Solo: rebel leader (male human)
Tomas Sundrin: soldier (male human)
Tresk Im'nal: Jedi Master (male Bothan)
Valin Horn: Jedi Knight (male human)
Waxarn Kel: Jedi Master (male human)
Wynssa Fel: Spike Five (female human)
DP is incomplete, for there are secret characters that I'd like to, well, keep a secret, for now. Once their secrets are out, though, they will be inserted into the DP.
P.S. Yes, in this fic Cem's a girl. I apologize to all those who are offended by my choice, but it is my personal belief Cem's a girl, and this fic reflects that. She is still the Shadow Child of the Fel family, though. That hasn't changed.
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Padawan of princess_of_naboo E-married to the amazing padawanlost  Member of Charon_Force Beginning's End: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=28450077&brd=10477&replies=1
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SilSolo
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
7/6/06 5:57pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword (Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, Mystery, some mush) DP up, to be updated shortl
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Very interesting start. What happened to Jacen? What of TK and Allana? I just need to hear a little bit about them, that's all.
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princess_of_naboo
Registered:
Nov '00
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Date Posted:
7/6/06 6:18pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword (Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, Mystery, some mush) DP up, to be updated shortl
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Intriguing. Looking forward to the update.
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rebel_cheese
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
7/6/06 6:49pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword (Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, Mystery, some mush) DP up, to be updated shortl
- Date Edited:
8/27/06 12:58pm (8 edits total)
Edited By:
rebel_cheese
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Silsolo: this will clear up some of your questions. Be aware, though, that I'm going to keep some things secret for now, including Allana.
princess_of_naboo: here it is!
Introduction
This story could happen at any time, or may not happen at all. It is an anomaly, a chronicle of a time that may or may not come to pass. It could be considered by some in the future to be heresy. It may never exist, for one choice, one action, one child being stillborn instead of alive, can change everything, for the better, or for the worse.
This is a story of love and loss, courage and sacrifice, life and death, hated and betrayal. This is a tale of the all-encompassing grey that smothers our lives, for even saints have their bad days and monsters love their mothers. There is no such thing as black or white.
This is a story about the end of the generation of heroes, and the start of the caretaker generation, the ones who will steer the galaxy along before the next conflict, when the next heroic generation is needed.
This is the funny thing about stories like this one: while it happened so long ago and so far away that mere words cannot describe the distance one must travel to reach this galaxy, it is happening as you read it. You are a time-traveler, journeying across time and the universe getting a brief visit to a wondrous place you could never visit otherwise.
Now pay attention, for once the tale ends you are once again shut off from this galaxy, and if one single event changes in the past, even longer ago, this tale will never happen, and everything in here will forever vanish.
This is a story about how the heroes of the last forty-two years have their final hurrah. This is a story of the end of a second Rebellion, and the beginning of a twenty-year-peace, where light and dark co-exist, light in control. But the darkness is coming soon, for daylight cannot last long in this galaxy. Enjoy the coming dawn while it lasts, for darkness, as always, will rise again . . .
***
The Core has become a graveyard. The stars cannot be seen; the scarred, scorched husks cover all that can be seen, cover the absolute empty with substance, but it is dead substance, without any life sustained inside the empty hulls. These used to be miniature universes, universes that traveled throughout the galaxy, prepared and equipped to do battle, and destroy the enemy's own fleet of lifebeds in an endless sea of nothing.
Occasionally, spirals of glowing insects stream past the darkened debris, searching for any lasting signs of life in the void of death. These are search-and-rescue ships: their lights penetrating the darkness of the void, using the light to find any sign of life, of existence in the nothingness. Hope for any more survivors ended three days ago, but people still try. There is a chance, they say, that there might be someone inside this rubble, someone who found a pocket that could support life, and if there is even a remote chance of survival for anyone, they would search forever to find that everlasting soul before it flares out.
There has been a battle here. Those watching from the twelve systems that this grand battle enveloped could find the lights—the small red-yellow flowers blossoming in the night sky against the stars—beautiful, eerily beautiful, for they know the conflict will not make it to them. There will be no horrors coming to take them into the night, into the graveyard. But this was not so for those on the ships, on the miniature universes.
During the desperate three days that this battle continued, it seemed for all involved that the entire galaxy was trying to kill them. Thousands, no, millions of vessels devoted to life's destruction clashed together here and all over the planets, in what has come to be called the Tri-System Battle.
During those three days, trillions, no, quadrillions of living beings across the galaxy watched in stunned horror as the battle unfolded on the Holonet, receiving these moving images from foolhardy, but courageous Holonet reporters and cameramen. Everyone knows this Rebellion, the second in living memory, has been the greatest war the galaxy has ever fought amongst itself, indeed the greatest battle since the Yuuzhan Vong war.
Outnumbered, the Rebellion would seem to be the defeated side in this war; but they have something the other side does not: hopes and dreams. The Loyalists exist only to preserve the evil that resides there. This is partially why volunteers flock in droves to this new Rebellion: to fight alongside heroes like Gilad Pellaeon, Tycho Celchu, and Tra'est Kre'fey, to serve under the triumvirate of Fyor Rodan, Malinza Thanas, and Thrackan Sal-Solo, the leaders of this second Rebellion, and to have the knowledge that the Mandoloreans, the greatest soldiers in all of the galaxy, are fighting alongside you.
Yet there is another intangible that drives these flocks to fight for the Rebellion, for the masses to cheer them on, to hope and dream, and to tell their children they are on the side of the right: the Jedi Order. These warrior monks, for a lack of a better description, have at long last won the hearts and minds of the galaxy.
The galaxy was horrified when the evidence was presented to them live on Holonet. Cal Omas, the hero of the Rebellion, the leader of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances that had defeated the Yuuzhan Vong menace, was controlled by the Sith? It seems so wrong, so out of the realms of possibility that one does not wish to believe.
Then there is this falling feeling in one's abdominals, there is that aching pressure in the chest that tells them the Jedi are telling the truth. There is no other reason the Jedi would side with people like Fyor Rodan and Thrackan Sal-Solo, longtime foes of the Jedi. Logic dictates this to be so. Thus the tired, ragged, crying, tortured galaxy rises again to fight another battle.
However, the nightmare gets worse. Jacen Solo, the hero of the Yuuzhan Vong war, has turned his back on the Jedi Order. He has thrown his lot in with the Sith. He helped murder his own daughter's mother; one year ago, he passively watched as his father died. He has committed atrocities, and his shadow has fallen on the galaxy. Other Sith Lords reveal themselves, Lumiya and Callista, the latter leading a nation whose military strength is so powerful one can barely hope to stop it.
One can forgive Jacen Solo for his mistaken conviction that there is only one way to save the galaxy. Jacen believes that the only way to save the galaxy is to save it from itself, to take the burdens of life upon himself, to take away choice and freedom so that the galaxy can no longer slowly kill itself. One can even forgive Callista. She can only access the darkest sides of the Force. Even the brightest, most angelic soul cannot last forever underneath the night. There is one person the galaxy can never forgive: Lumiya. Lumiya is a metallic monster.
The former Hand of the Emperor is a mess of metal and mesh like Darth Vader before her. She is the one responsible for the mass slaughter that now continues, the one who turned Jacen Solo the hero. Planets have begun burning because of her. Souls, young and old, have been ruthlessly murdered because of her. There can be no forgiveness here. She is one of the few unforgivable beings in the history of this galaxy. She is the author of this latest war, writing the current twilight and trying to drag the galaxy into the darkest depths of the void, where day will never rise again, where no one will ever awaken. Ever.
The leader of the Galactic Alliance has been seduced by the lies of the night. It seems the Galactic Alliance will soon fall. The news gets worse, and the Rebellion initially loses its first few battles, before its entire fighting force is ready. The galaxy mourns the end of day. Night must be falling again, people cried. If even Jacen Solo cannot resist night's call, why bother to dream? Why have hope? Why can't we accept that once again we will have nightmares?
Two people reply. They say through their actions that there is reason to dream, to have hopes and prayers, to believe that the dawn can rise once more. Skywalker and Solo, Luke and Jaina: the galaxy's greatest hero and the Jedi's sword. Their names spark the flames of patriotism, of righteousness, of the feeling that there is someone, somewhere, fighting for everything to be right.
As husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, sons and daughters, cousins and grandparents all go off to fight for the Rebellion, those left behind break into tears as they watch their loved ones go fight the righteous war. They comfort the others that will remain behind, those too small and too young to fight in the war, the younglings; but the younglings know everything is all right, because Luke and Jaina will be there. They always are. They always make it in time. They always come before death swishes its scythe on those who fight for the galaxy's right to see the day. They fight to save innocence from obliteration.
The sword always deflects the blows from the wraiths of the darkness. Even when the darkness tries to cast her away, the sword always roars back, determined to set things right. The sword's gleaming light casts a shadow in which all souls take cover. Although the sword never knows peace, the children suddenly feel the warmth of safety whenever she draws near, because they know that when the sword is near, they will not be harmed. They will not feel the tragedy of war because the Sword of the Jedi is there.
The hero has fought for the lives of all in the galaxy before many of the galaxy's current generation were even born. He has always been around. He has always been proven right. He will never abandon the galaxy. As long as war and darkness continue to try to assert themselves, the hero will suddenly come and stop it. He will always nip it in the bud.
Thus for six glided months the children revel in the adventures of Skywalker and Solo, as if they were fictional adventurers in some high-budget, galaxy-wide famous holodrama. Even those in the Jedi Order begin to view the pair with an aura of invincibility. Some of the lucky children, staring down the reaper's blade, have even seen Skywalker and Solo up close. The yellow-green and violet blades of fire are suddenly unleashed, and the darkness retreats, blinded by the pair's ferocious light.
The children, and their parents, suddenly feel happiness and tears of joy on their faces. Why? Because they know they are safe. They always make it in time. They are the guardian angels of the galaxy. Even in the massacre known as the Tri-System Battle, they will still walk out of the battle seemingly unscathed. The moment the pair had entered that battle, the adults fighting for the Rebellion felt reinvigorated, energized, knowing that since Skywalker and Solo have come, the day will be won. The Loyalists stood no chance. Not even Callista's Potentium can possibly defeat Luke and Jaina. The pair cannot lose. It is impossible. Laughable. Then the bubble breaks.
Parents and adults cry out at the news. Children stare at the news with hollowed eyes; tears pouring in great flooding rivers down their cheeks, their mouths dropped open in great spasms of shock, of disbelief. Skywalker is dead. He has fallen. The darkness finally defeated him. Jacen Solo, the traitor, killed him.
For the next few stunned hours, they try not to believe it. It's impossible. The children, the younglings, scream and cry for Luke Skywalker. He must be alive. He cannot be dead. Then the fiery boils of hatred rise. Jacen Solo has become one of the unforgivable. He killed the galaxy's greatest hero.
No child will ever hear his name again without feeling the bile rise, without screaming and shouting at Jacen Solo, without wishing they could rush the traitor and mutilate him like he did to the galaxy, gouge out his glowing yellow eyes, tear at his flesh, shoot him a thousand-times over.
This is when the parents intervene. That is not the Jedi way. Luke would not want people to hate Jacen Solo, the adults tell their children. In some cases, it works; but for the majority, it doesn't. The one thing keeping them from falling into the fiery pit of self-destruction and hatred is the knowledge that Jaina Solo still lives. She still lives.
But as the Holonet shows the latest news of the upcoming battle, as the Rebellion stares down the remnants of the Loyalists and Potentium, it becomes known that Jaina Solo is not there. So where is she, then? Has she fallen too? Did Jacen kill her? Kill his own sister? Can the Rebellion reign victorious without their greatest heroes?
The adults pray for it to be true. That the heroes of the war are merely legends, that their exploits are not needed in this final, climactic battle. After all, the other known pairs of this war are still alive: Corran and Kirana, Valin and Jysella, Lowbacca and Tesar. So many others, so many more still breathe.
They will have to be enough. The Rebellion cannot count on Skywalker and Solo, Luke and Jaina, any longer, for one is dead and the other may be taken. As the Rebellion's ships exist hyperspace and enter Coruscant's orbit, the galaxy's citizens brace themselves for the end of another long war. The Loyalists and Potentium fight with renewed ferocity. Luke and Jaina are gone. They can win.
The Rebellion's morale has taken a hit, but they fight on anyway. They have more than enough heroes to overpower the loss of the two greatest heroes. Or so they believe. But is it possible? The galaxy is about to find out whether the scales will tip towards morning or to evening. The galaxy hopes it will be morning.
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Padawan of princess_of_naboo E-married to the amazing padawanlost Member of Charon_Force Beginning's End: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=28450077&brd=10477&replies=1
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rebel_cheese
Registered:
Jul '06
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Date Posted:
7/7/06 10:21pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword Updated 7/6 with Author's note added 7/7
- Date Edited:
7/11/06 6:52pm (3 edits total)
Edited By:
rebel_cheese
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A little post-script:
Number one, this was more difficult than I expected, but I've figured out how to properly update. No more sounding stupid from now on, I promise!
Number two, I'm glad to announce I have a beta! Thank you so very much, princess_of_naboo!
Number three, yes, I know I'm in over my head right now. But this story will continue. This is a J/J story, for those of you who like those sort of stories, and I am aiming for an action/adventure story that stays within the PG limits (although the prologue will push it, just giving you mods a heads-up).
Double post up Thursday! Regular posting days will be Monday and Thursday.
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Padawan of princess_of_naboo E-married to the amazing padawanlost Member of Charon_Force Beginning's End: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=28450077&brd=10477&replies=1
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princess_of_naboo
Registered:
Nov '00
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Date Posted:
7/11/06 9:57pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword Started and Updated 7/6, Author's Note added 7/7
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You definitely used a unique style with the introduction. Nice Revenge of the Sith vibes.
I really liked the prologue--which I just sent the beta-ed version of back to you.
This is a promising story. Hopefully more people will find it.
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rebel_cheese
Registered:
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Date Posted:
7/12/06 8:28pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword (LOTF speculation, Jaina and others) updated 7/7
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Just giving this thing a bump before the double post tomorrow. Yeah, I'm shameless. 
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rebel_cheese
Registered:
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Date Posted:
7/13/06 3:49pm
Subject:
RE: The Lost Sword (J/J, LOTF speculation, Ben, Jysella, others) Double Updated 7/13
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Prologue: The Taking
What if the light just isn't there? What if we get to the end of this tunnel and find only night? -Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, 19 BBY
* * *
The empty is undisturbed. Not even a miniscule speck flies through it, certainly not anything such as a ship, planet, or star. But then, something shoots by at speeds improbable in the bubble universes — the lifebeds known as planets — but possible in the empty. It is a ship. It flies on effortlessly, heading to a destination that would be unknown to any observer. The ship is a small bubble universe in itself, for it supports life in the nothingness all around it. Jaina Solo hangs on inside this lone bubble universe, the only thing that keeps her alive. She hangs in the white light, struggling to stay defiant despite her pain.
It is physical pain. Her limbs cry out in agony, her head hears each heartbeat as the deafening beat of a timpani drum. Her legs bleed; much of her hair has been pulled out. Her throat suffers a low burn, as her thirst finds no quencher. A migraine has buried itself in her brain; just opening her eyes causes blinding light to rush into them, increasing the already unbearable pain. She had to keep her eyes closed, for if she opened them for long she would perish. She wants to cry, and she feels her tears bordering on her eyes. This is another reason why she keeps her eyes closed. If she were to open them, her weakness, her sadness, her despair would be unleashed in that instant, revealing her feelings for all to see. There is a shock. Her body goes into a brief convulsion, and several droplets of sweat fly off of her and land upon the floor. Soon, her body will run out of water. When that happens she will find her blessed release, become one with the Force, and leave her physical body and her pain behind.
However, it is not only physical pain that threatens to consume her. No, there is a mental pain, a psychological torrent of the purest agony that wants to geyser out of her, which nearly forces her to let out a scream. A scream that could carry for thousands of years… There is the sound of a door shutting. Footsteps echo along the floor, they sound so loud. Her thoughts swirl, and she tries to remember how she got here. A face appears ghostly in front of her and then leaves. Zekk, she moans somewhere deep within herself. Why'd you die? I told you to stay behind, she cries silently.
Death had been part of her family as long as she could remember, but for the first fifteen years of her life, there had been a bubble of security. There had been times when she thought someone she loved was dead; once she nearly killed her brother, thinking he was someone else. But it was always all right in the end. Yet in the end it was always all right. Her friends and family always returned. They never left. But then they stopped coming back. Their deaths became real. Chewbacca. Anni. Anakin. Tenel Ka. Zekk. Kyp. Dad. Uncle Luke. Aunt Mara.
Gone.
So it goes, a voice that was not hers said.
What was that! her inner voice called out, enraged at the newcomer. Who was there! Who wished to see her suffer now? She dared to open one eye. Her migraine became much worse; her head sizzled, threatening to explode. But she saw one single blurry figure, sitting down, looking passive. The figure had medium-length blonde hair, a tan complexion, and black tattoos on the sides of its head, and the back of its hands. It was a little taller than Jaina was; she knew because the figure had once been another friend. Now it was an enemy. One she had failed to destroy.
There was no answer to her question. Jaina called out several more times, and thrashed against her binds a few more times. Its answer was flashes zapping their way across her body, and she convulsed once more and was held limp, staring down at the floor. Vague memories passed through the grey fog. She has been captured. She had gone to that asteroid near Bimmel, where the traitors had fled after their successful kidnapping of a youngling. Four Jedi had come with her. She was the sole survivor. Now she wished she were among the dead. She wished she wasn't in this white. She wished she could feel so many other emotions. But now there was only pain. Her pain, fear, and sadness. That's was all she could feel.
The one rock left which to cling was the Force. Her air, her life. There was nothing but the Force. The Force is within all living beings. She has been given a gift, she can channel the Force in ways most creatures cannot and, in this situation which would break lesser individuals, the Force helps her withstand every fresh shock, it keeps her sanity for her.
She reaches out briefly, and senses a rush of tears and despair, hurt and worry. Her mother. She almost tries to connect, to tell her mother she was more than alive. But to force her mother to share her torment was not what she wanted to do. If Jaina were to reach out and touch Leia, the pain and suffering would be too much for the older woman. All of those emotions she sensed in Leia would knot themselves in a black ball of anger, and she would rush out after Jaina, becoming the very creature she would seek to destroy.
Mom, she mumbles. Mom, just hold on. Just a little longer.
It won't happen. Not unless we allow it.
The masculine voice again, which had discerned Jaina's hidden meaning in those words. She tries to open her eyes again, and she turns left and right, and tries to pull the binds off.
WHERE ARE YOU WHO ARE YOU LET ME GO STOP THIS RELEASE ME NOW—
Enough, Jaina.
The dull pain becomes an electrifying shock, and it blazes throughout her. She cries out again, this time she can hear her tired, withered, broken voice let out a desperate scream. She coughs violently, and the burn becomes a fire. Warm liquid fills her mouth, and she forces herself to spit. Red falls onto the floor. A puddle has been forming, and drying. There are no tears in her eyes now. Just red. The red of her suffering releases itself, and she falls through the white, into the red.
* * *
Soon, something like a glass is placed in between her parched, cracked lips, and chilled, clean liquid flows into her mouth. As the liquid is swallowed, the scorched, crying throat is soothed — barely. This places enough strength in her that she opens her eyes, and discovers that the migraine is gone. A woman a couple of years younger than herself is staring at her, holding the empty glass. Seeing that her prisoner was awake, the woman turned, and walked away a few steps, setting the glass down on some sort of table. Pain retreated to the back of Jaina's mind, but like all such things she feared its return. She feared the return to pain and despair and suffering and anger and sadness and—
She suddenly had orientation. Now she saw, and remembered, that she was hanging horizontally and was suspended facedown. Two meters below her was a mess of browns and greens, a vine corded surface that seemed alive. The walls felt damp and organic. She knew she was being watched, she saw things move that felt like cameras. It felt much like a… Yuuzhan Vong vessel. But she hadn't been captured by the Vong. Not when, under the surface, she could see the metallic undertones of this ship. Whatever ship it was, it had become so alien she almost couldn't recognize it. Almost.
Now a woman was here. The woman turned around, and Jaina got a look at her face. Jaina's pain had been primarily physical for the last several hours, until she lost awareness. But now came the mental pain again, and she remembered all of it. Her physical pain was agonizing enough. It felt like claws were holding her head, and her arms and legs were pulled to their full extension and felt like they were going to be removed from their sockets. A single strong grip crushed her ankles together, grinded bone against bone. Yet the mental pain was what hurt the most. Her eyes moved to the left, and she saw the woman. A person she had trusted. Loved. Helped save once, long ago. Jaina had once respected Tahiri Veila when the latter woman was a Jedi Knight, and a proud one at that.
Now she could be counted among the Lost, a collection of twenty-four, no, twenty-five people who had renounced their oaths to the Jedi Order. Tahiri Veila of Tatooine was the latest name to be added to that terrible list. Her golden hair was long, falling to her shoulders. Her eyes, once jade and obsidian now glowed a bright, furious yellow. Her three gray scars were now joined by black tattoos all over the side of her face. Her lips had a hundred incisions and burns in them, and she was dressed in Yuuzhan Vong armor, grey-and-black, with knobs sticking out of her shoulders. Those split lips smiled eagerly, as if staring at a new zoo animal. Jaina could only stare at Tahiri, wondering how her friend had become such a despicable being.
Tahiri's voice was whispery, yet pulsing with desire, anger, and the barest restraint. "I see the Embrace of Pain has had a profound effect on you. Not altogether surprising, every single case I've ever seen has changed that person forever. But this probably is your most severe case, isn't it?" she said.
Jaina did not reply, just quietly seethed. She envisioned blasting her way out, breaking Tahiri's neck, taking Tahiri's lightsaber, slaying the master…
Tahiri began talking again. "Master allowed me to change this part of the ship, to make it alive. Master believes the Yuuzhan Vong Embrace of Pain can be a helpful teaching tool, if used properly. Master should know; Master has been subjected to it so many painful times."
"You were my friend. I loved you like a sister," Jaina hissed.
Tahiri's smile grew wider, sinister. "You did. Why?"
"I've always cared about you, Tahiri—"
"You don't care about me now, do you?"
"Yes, I care," Jaina said immediately. It was strange to her, that she utterly despised Tahiri, yet still wished to change her back, back into the woman she had once been, the brave, strong, yet kind woman who had been fiercely loyal to the Jedi Order. Before Tahiri's faith had been shaken during the Swarm War. Before the newest Sith Lord had sunk his talons into her. Before the dark side had infected her with its biting, coursing fetor.
"Typical Jedi," Tahiri spat and she sat down in her seat, where she probably had been observing Jaina's breaking the whole time.
Jaina had to keep Tahiri speaking. If she didn't, the breaking would begin once more. The white would be unleashed upon her, and her other emotions would be brought to the surface.
Tahiri smiled again and did Jaina's job for her. "You're afraid."
"I am not!" Jaina shouted.
"But you are. You're afraid of so many things, Jaina." Unlike Jaina, Tahiri remained even, calm. Her voice showed no anger, no frustration.
Tahiri's voice became a whisper. "You fear for the galaxy. You fear for your friend Malinza and her pathetic rebellion against the Chief of State. You fear for your cousin Ben." Now her words were barely audible, they were little more than hot, exhaled air. "Your niece."
Jaina stared at Tahiri, her face betraying her emotions and thoughts. Her fears. "Allana. Tahiri, tell me! Where is Allana?" It was all a rush. She remembered why she was on the asteroid. Allana. It was all for Allana. She had planned to rescue the beautiful, talented, intelligent girl from her captors, to give Allana something Jaina never had: a joyful life. A life without war, without hatred, without fear.
Tahiri's face became impassive. "I knew that at one point you'd want to know."
Jaina's voice began quivering. Raw emotion seared away her reservations, her caution. No matter how many victories her voice gave Tahiri, she had to know. She must know the fate of the girl whose grandfather had given piggyback rides to, the girl whose grandmother had helped teach how to draw, whose great-uncle planned to immerse in the Jedi Order, and help her spread hope, joy, and peace across the tired, war-strewn galaxy. "Where is she?" Jaina rasped. "Allana. I need to see Allana."
Tahiri stared at Jaina, her yellow eyes glowing eerily. "Allana is dead, Jaina. Your failure is complete. All those Jedi you brought with you have died for nothing."
Jaina bit her lower lip, her eyes watering. Her breaths became quick gasps, and she almost broke down. "No." Images of that wonderful girl flashed in front of her mind. A smiling, cheerful girl when Jaina and her niece first met, a melancholy, depressed girl that needed Jaina's comforting embrace after the death of Tenel Ka. Jaina had loved Allana with such an intensity one could easily mistake Allana for being Jaina's child, not her twin brother Jacen's.
And now Allana had ceased to exist.
The white of her pain returned, and with it black, roaring rage flowed though her. The screams from the white served as her release from the black and grey, and the images of the amazing girl she had met were shattered. Like shards of glass, the fragments of the broken images pierced her, cut her. The white slashed her now, bringing her a different version of pain. Finally, the blue poured into her, and she wallowed in despair.
* * *
Hours passed, perhaps days, weeks, months. Or merely minutes. How could she tell? How could she know? Where they still in transit? Or had they landed? How could she know? Her Jedi robes were little more than torn, bloodstained rags now. The remnants hung off of her, and sweat glistened off of her skin as the white ceased to be one with her. The cold substance, which she had now identified as simple, clean water, once more entered her mouth. She wondered if she would soon be considered worthy enough to receive food. It seemed they wanted her alive. Or they wanted her to suffer before they finally cast her away into the empty nothingness outside, and watched as her last life signs faded as her body became a void.
Tahiri had been here every single time so far. She had been silent the last two times they had met. Jaina had attempted to speak, but Tahiri would remain silent, ignoring Jaina's pleas, Jaina's requests for replies. Finally, Jaina asked "Why?"
"Why not?"
Those were the first words Tahiri had said for a dozen eternities. And it was a conundrum, forcing Jaina to navigate the maze of her dazed, exhausted mind to find an answer. "What?"
"Why not?" Tahiri repeated.
"I don't understand."
"For every 'why', there is a 'why not'. 'Why are we going there'? 'Why not'?" Tahiri asked, almost earnestly.
Jaina's mind was too consumed by anger, her white pain, to understand Tahiri's intent. She tried to at least look like she was trying to think, trying to understand what Tahiri was saying. Jaina glared at Tahiri. "I still don't get it."
"'Why is there life'? 'Why not'? It is really quite a simple philosophy lesson, Jaina. In fact, it is the foundation of all philosophy. The clearest answer? 'Why' does not matter. It is what we do that matters, not why. 'Why' is just a questioning of one's motivation. But it does not explain what people do," Tahiri said.
"I'd raise my hand, 'teacher', but as you can see, if I try to move my arm it's gonna come out of my socket," Jaina growled.
Tahiri laughed softly, even though it was truly not all that amusing, rather, it was the truth.
Jaina exploded then. The black anger rose, permeated her, and attached itself to its surroundings. The organics recoiled; she could feel all of it try to distance themselves from her furnace. "What are you trying to say? What are you doing to me? Why are you here?"
"Deep questions, Jaina. More attempts to discover intentions," Tahiri said. "But, as you see, the Sith are the heralds of tragedy, the keepers of the tombs, the guardians of the dead, the shells of life itself."
"I don't see."
Tahiri smiled again, and her voice now did border on mocking, as if she was a schoolteacher dressing down a student. "Of course you don't. It's enough that the dead suffer their demise, but is it asking too much of them to understand death?"
Jaina had a feeling that Tahiri didn't understand the true meaning of what she was speaking, that she was merely vomiting the information out, that she was only repeating what her master said. Her natural reaction, however, took over. Instead of probing Tahiri, she found herself resigned, and she closed her eyes. "The two of you finally decided to do it, huh? You're gonna kill me." Like Allana.
Tahiri's smile grew wider, her voice grew excited. "No, Jaina, we can't kill what is already dead. Not even the Sith can do that."
Jaina stared.
Seeing that it was hitting home, Tahiri launched into her speech. "You're dead, Jaina. Forever lost to all you know. Your mother weeps, wondering about her missing son, daughter, and granddaughter. Your cousin falls between rages and tears. Master has predicted that your friend in the Ascendancy will soon take up a struggle to find you, even if it means his family's exile."
Jag? Jaina thought. Jag, no, don't do this! Don't throw away your career, your life, your family's lives, just for me!
"You've seen death. You've seen it's little more than a line of twilight between day and night. You've seen your final days of light, 'friend'. You're dead. Night is where you dwell, now. Light is little more than an illusion, and you are about to discover this."
No, Jaina thought. She's wrong. She hasn't been lost, not yet. Not when she had the Force. She was the Sword of the Jedi. She could reach out, find someone, and scream for help, her signature would be so strong—
"Oh, yes, Master warned me that you would do this. The Force is life, Jaina. You're dead. Life has no business with you," Tahiri said.
So, her assumption had been correct after all. Tahiri was little more than a messenger for the real powers-that-be. A crazed messenger who was thoroughly enjoying her work. Sensing the dark power crackling its way throughout Tahiri, Jaina had two realizations: one being that Tahiri was far stronger than she had reckoned, two, that if she could not get a message out, no one would, or even could, find her. The Force cascaded throughout her. She desperately hooked up with her mother, shouting for help of any kind. She was weakened, exhausted, but she would fight Tahiri, at least until she was finished. No one will strip the Force from—
"Stay away from me," Jaina warned, her voice panicky and rising in pitch with every word.
"I'm afraid I cannot do that." With little more than a twitch of an eye, Tahiri swept across Jaina, destroying all resistance.
Desperate, she sent one final message to her mother. Just so Leia knew not to come after her. For she knew what would be Leia's fate, of everyone's fate who came here… Mom, just tell… just tell everyone that I'm sorry. I couldn't… I… I let everyone down. Don't come after me. It's over.
Jaina felt a sudden bright white pyre being lit inside her, and despite all efforts at resistance the pyre gathered fuel for its fire. The Force was being drawn into the pyre. The Force was its fuel. As it burned, Jaina felt herself drawing closer and closer to death. It felt as if her very soul was burning away. The white had ached, had stabbed, had jolted. But this was different than any other kind of pain she had ever felt. It was a pain so serious she could see the white, as it glazed across her vision, as her chamber, then Tahiri, faded away and soon she could only see white. Her pain.
A voice, cold and precise, began speaking to her, as if from a great distance, thousands of miles away. "Master has plans for you, Jaina. He wants badly for them to be fulfilled."
Great, the dying answered sarcastically.
"But first, you must receive training. Consider me a guide, or a tutor, if you will, before your end up meeting Master."
Guide? Tutor? What do you mean?
"I am your guide through the dead, Jaina and when you're finished with me, Master will show you much more, so much more."
There was no more. Suddenly, the pyre blasted away, like a geyser, and her soul was incinerated.
* * *
She saw. It was blurry at first, but as her consciousness returned, she still found herself staring at the green wooden floor. She was still hanging in the Embrace of Pain. Suddenly, she felt empty. No, everything was empty. All of it. From this ship to Tahiri Veila, her face still contorted into cheerful, crazed mockery, to her mother so far away—
Jaina Solo had become nothing.
"What… what is this?" she was surprised at the raspy sound of her voice. It was as if she had spent days sleeping, dreaming.
"What in all nine Corellian hells have you done to me, Tahiri! Answer me!" Jaina screamed.
Tahiri was enjoying this. Jaina could see it in the younger woman's eyes. It was as if Tahiri had experienced this herself, and loved playing the role of teacher.
"There's no reason for you to have the Force, and the Force most certainly doesn't need you. Master says so," Tahiri said, in a high-pitched, childish, mocking tone.
"Give it back!" Jaina snarled.
Tahiri's voice changed once again, it became impulsive, maddened by insanity. "Think, Jaina! The mere idea of it! You're little more than a teething, impulsive, child! You don't have any reason at all to have the Force! So that's why I took it from you, Jaina. You're not an adult yet, you cannot play with the toys the Force gives you."
"You're one to talk. You're younger than me." Brilliant comeback, Jaina. That showed her, Jaina thought to herself.
"Yet I'm the adult and you're not. I'm the one in control; I'm the one who takes responsibility. I'm the one who follows orders," Tahiri rattled off.
"You do none of those things. You pushed away all those who want to help you. In your obsession to be the so-called 'Sword of the Jedi', you simply isolated yourself, like a three-year-old snotty brat who doesn't get her way. 'Poor Jaina', you wanted us all to say. 'I wish we could do something to help her'. Well, now, I have helped you. Not so glad now that someone has finally decided to give you a hand in fixing your life, are you?" Tahiri said, voice venomous with hatred for the woman who hung above her.
The emptiness Jaina felt pulled her shell of body towards it, like a vacuum. There was nothing. Only vacuum. The Force no longer existed for her. All of her training, all of her gifts, all of her talents, they meant nothing now. The Force was a ghost now, an impossible dream. Jaina had awoken to reality.
Mom! Jaina tried to reach out to her mother. With her twin bond in tatters and having little contact with Ben, the only bond she had left was the one shared with Leia. She poured everything she had into the gaping void. She tried to make contact. But all she found was a crevasse, a hole, endlessly separating her from Leia.
Silence. Emptiness. Vacuum. Nothing.
Mom, Mom, I'm sorry. So sorry. I didn't mean… I was reckless, I… please… With the last remaining Force-bond she had gone, it occurred to Jaina that there was no one left who could find her. Without that bond, even Leia, who had to put up with so much tragedy—Anakin, Han, Jacen—would believe her last child was dead.
Jaina glared at Tahiri, her mouthed clenched, her teeth grinding. The black rose. She suddenly realized she no longer cared for this… for this… witch who stood over her. "How… could you do this to me, Tahiri?" Jaina asked it.
"You're better off without the Force, at least until you grow up, Jaina. When you are ready, I will give it back to you. Quite simple. Then Master will complete your training."
"But…" This was crazy. Impossible. "I'm a Jedi. I am not a Sith, and I'm certainly not—"
"You're dead, Jaina. Haven't you been paying attention? You were dead the moment you stepped on that asteroid, as was the rest of your team."
"I don't…" Tears began trickling out of her eyes, as she stared at the woman. The droplets hit the floor, next to Tahiri's feet. Some of the green and brown stalks reached out a little, to examine them. Realization dawned on her. Tahiri would not subject her to this, torture her, and speak like this. The Tahiri she knew was a brave, yet saddened girl who loved Anakin, Jaina's brother. Still loved Anakin. Loved Jaina as well, definitely like a sister. She sensed no love in the woman standing over her. "You're not Tahiri," Jaina accused. "You're someone else. You're not the woman I knew. You're just an evil puppet masquerading as my friend. Tahiri wouldn't have murdered younglings. She wouldn't have cut down so many innocents."
Tahiri smiled peacefully. "You're right. I was wondering when you'd finally realize it. It figures that I had to kill you before you woke up," Tahiri sighed, and then went on, "I am not Tahiri Veila. She's dead, but unlike you and me she's gotten around to lying down."
"Then… who are you?" Jaina asked, fearing the answer even as she asked.
"My name, Jaina, is Riina. Darth Riina," the scarred woman said.
"That's… four. Lumiya, you, Callista, and…" Jaina could not bring her voice to say it, to say his name, "your master. There's… only supposed to be… two. One master, one apprentice. That's what Luke said." Jaina gasped, unable to accept this.
Tahiri, Riina, or whatever she was, laughed cruelly. "'That's what Luke said'," she repeated, in that ridiculing, immature tone. Ceasing her laughter, she said, in a voice still tinged with amusement, "The rules have changed, Jaina. New rules have been enacted. New laws. The Rule of One has replaced The Rule of Two. Your Uncle’s words mean nothing, now. It is a shame he perished so early in the new war."
"The war's over," Jaina denied.
"The surface war, yes. Your civil war is coming to an end. It is being decided as we speak. But this is a different war. A war of subversion. The Sith will not be underground for long. Soon, we will have numbers. We will have training. We will have strength. We will overpower all forces of chaos. Peace will be brought to this shattered galaxy."
This time it was Jaina who laughed. It was a low, sarcastic snicker, made bitter by her pain. "Sith? Bringing peace? This I gotta see."
"You will, Jaina, you will. Trust me in this, if you will not trust me in anything else," the younger woman said darkly. Tahiri/Riina, without another word, walked away. A hatch… mouth opened, and her binds tightened once more. The stalks straightened themselves, and soon her arms were being pulled again. The hole of agony swallowed Jaina Solo once more.
Now there was nothing left for Jaina. No more Mother, no more Jagged, no more Zekk, no more sanity, no more life. And so Jaina Solo begins her journey through the dead.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Next post up in a few . . .
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Padawan of princess_of_naboo E-married to the amazing padawanlost Member of Charon_Force Beginning's End: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=28450077&brd=10477&replies=1
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rebel_cheese
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Date Posted:
7/13/06 4:01pm
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RE: The Lost Sword (J/J, LOTF speculation, Ben, Jysella, others) Double Updated 7/13
- Date Edited:
7/16/06 12:06pm (2 edits total)
Edited By:
rebel_cheese
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Chapter One: Vanishing
When we act in harmony with the will of the Force, we disappear into it. When we struggle against it, we not only sever our ties with the Force, but also feed the seeds of chaos. -Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, 30 ABY
* * *
Ben Skywalker lived in denial. As he wandered through the Ossus Temple in a daze, he constantly opened doors, hoping to see those he loved. His father. His mother. His cousins. All he wanted to do was see them, to see their smiles, to hear them say everything was all right, that they weren't dead, despite common belief. That they would find those who dared try to yank them away from Ben. But there was nothing. Sure, sometimes there were other Jedi, surprised to see Ben opening the door, but before they could inquire, Ben would see that none of those he sought remained. So he would shut the door and dash away before the first sentences out of the Jedi’s mouths were finished.
He had spent the last twenty-four hours or so as a wanderer, walking throughout the Academy without any purpose other than the impossible. He approached another door. Logic told him not to open it, he had tried it twice earlier today and the wanted results had not occurred. Ben did not care about logic. He just wanted the galaxy to return to its old incarnation. Before the civil war. Before Jedi began falling. Before his parents died.
He could not be alone in this galaxy. He could not be the last Skywalker. There had to be someone left. His cousins. His aunt. He could not be the last one. He could not be alone. His aunt Leia was still out there, somewhere. He could feel her in the Force. She was stressed, preparing for yet another battle in this civil war. Jaina was still out there as well. She could not feel him, but he could still reach out and touch her, even though she could scarcely realize it. With each blow she took, Ben felt her fear, her pain, her anger, and her sadness. She was so sad, yet surprised. Thoughts of failure echoed throughout Jaina's mind. Resignation was setting in; all she felt was regret and despondency. She was hurt. Ben wanted to help her, but his bond with her was not strong enough. He could not tell where she was or even nail down a general location. It was not helping that she was ignoring his pleas, searching for Leia instead.
Ben rubbed his forehead, brushed aside his short red-gold bangs, and felt his wrap-around bandage rub against the cut on his forehead. The jolt of pain he received meant little to him. If it weren't for this wound, he would be out there. He would be searching for Jaina or helping Leia. He would not be stuck here at this stupid temple like an invalid! Ben passed a group of students, not much younger than he was—twelve or thirteen—who were on their way to a fighting class with Kyle Katarn. Even with the war going on, the Jedi Order must train its next generation for the troubles to come. One thing Ben could already guarantee, even at the age of fifteen, was that this war was not likely to be the last.
The trainees sounded eager, too eager, to pick up lightsabers and begin dueling each other. Thankfully, they were about to find out the lightsabers were dummies, essentially lit-up clubs. Tionne had been enacting this rule, with only a few exceptions, for the last decade or so. Ben had been one of those exceptions. He had a lightsaber, a lit, full, killing blade since he was ten. Jacen Solo had taken Ben under his wing for several years, training him, teaching him. And now he was gone as well, a Sith Lord. How could his friend, his mentor, do this to him?! Ben reached down to his right hip, touched the cold metallic handle of his own lightsaber. This thing had saved him so many times, but even this weapon, and all of his skill, hadn't saved him from taking a shot from Lumiya's lightwhip a short while ago. His mother had died protecting him, hiding him until Jaina had been able to grab him and run. Ben burned with hatred for that Sith. It was all her fault. If she had not interfered, they all would still be here. But because she existed, so many of his friends and family did not. Lumiya would not live for much longer. Somehow, somewhere, Ben was going to catch her and this time she would not escape.
As these thoughts of revenge perforated his mind, he nearly ran into a group of small younglings—barely six or seven years old. "Careful, Ben! Watch where you're going!" Streen called out.
Ben looked up, and saw Streen, a mysterious, somewhat strange, elderly, former hermit at the back of the youngling pack. "I'm… I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Ben replied, in that deepening, nasal voice he had.
"I can see that. Pay more attention. I think a lot of these younglings want to have an up-close look at a Skywalker, but not that close," Streen said.
"He's a Skywalker?" a young Bith squealed.
"Oh, wow!" a human child cried out.
"Now, now, I'm sure he's had enough attention for today. Remember, today's the day we are going to levitate Mirats!"
One quality Streen had always possessed was the ability to both excite and fascinate children. He also was able to instantly change children's attention spans, something that relieved Ben to the core. He could not, just couldn't, look these children in the eye today. These children were… filled with innocence. Innocence that would be pulled out of them roughly, their naive views of reality squashed and forever altered. They would soon learn that being Jedi meant more than using telekinesis, and was nowhere near as fun as Streen made it seem. Ben suddenly hated Streen. He was bringing these children into a worthless fantasy, where Jedi were the definite heroes, where it was all fun and games. Ben restrained himself then. Streen would sense the anger and hatred emanating from him, and would not, could not, understand why. Streen, due to his brain addlement, was little more than a full-grown child himself, albeit a child who was infinitely more dangerous than the younglings he had gathered.
Ben forced those dark thoughts deep inside of him, but he could sense the apprehension forming inside Streen. Streen could sense something was wrong, the Jedi Master was anything but stupid despite his temperment. Ben forced a smile and spoke before Streen could. "I'm just… stressed today, Streen. It's been a long week."
Streen smiled amiably. "Yes, it has. Especially for the children, they've been waiting to levitate for several days! I can't contain their excitement any longer!"
Streen had missed the point entirely, but Ben understood why. Streen knew nothing about what was going on outside the Temple. Streen's mental age made it impossible for him to keep any secrets; no one could trust Streen to keep himself sealed off from the younglings. The moment the younglings knew, they would throw the whole Academy into a panic, one that the Masters were not ready to combat just yet. The youngest younglings had no inkling of Luke's death, and the Academy was glad to keep it that way.
"Yeah, I know." Ben looked at the children of various species, roughly fourteen of them, just standing there like beautiful angels, who just wanted to levitate and catch some small rodents. They had no idea. It was almost enough to drive Ben to tears. These kids, these younglings… they did not deserve the Jedi future. They deserved something better than a life of self-sacrifice. Ben told Streen, "Well, enjoy teaching your class," and began walking away, keeping his face, and his emotions, hidden from the entire class.
"I hope you'll feel better soon, Ben!" Streen called out before he began shepherding the children toward the outdoors.
I'll never feel any better than I do now, Ben silently replied. Whenever he looked in the mirror, he was reminded. The calm blue eyes of his father, the shining, wavy red-gold locks of his mother. He had been gifted with both, with perhaps just a dimple or two courtesy of his aunt. Whenever he saw himself, he would always see his parents' images. He would be reminded that they were dead. Dead. He would never see either of them again. They would be beyond his grasp now, until his own death. I wish I was there! I wish I could have done something! Anything! Just to keep them alive! I should have been there! Ben clenched his fists and made an almost silent growling noise.
Suddenly, he saw a door to his right. It was almost too hopeless to wish for, but… Ben no longer thought. He walked over briskly, hoping against logic, hoping against knowledge, that it was all just a misunderstanding. They were alive. They had to be. They never died. They were always alive, always there for him. Ben opened the door. It was not a classroom, rather a room for wounded, yet mobile Jedi to rest. He saw the Horn siblings, Valin and Jysella. Lowbacca, the Wookiee Jedi. Kitara Shilian, the cat-like humanoid from Moniline. Tesar Sebatyne, the Barabel whose race was forever orphaned, their planet eliminated during the Yuuzhan Vong war.
"Ben?" Jysella asked, her tall, willowy form rising from her chair. Her voice was a soft wisp, an angelic, innocent voice she had not outgrown. Her sapphire-blue eyes revealed her surprise, and, Ben was shocked to see, concern.
"Whoa, Ben," Valin said, rising as well. He was smaller than Jysella, in fact ranged around his father's height. Valin's short hair was raven like his father, while Jysella's rather long, ponytailed hair had a toffee-blonde shade.
They all stared at him. Ben wondered why, and then noticed the heat on his cheeks, the moisture trickling down them like streams streaking down a plain. He touched the darkening bag under his right eye, and felt several tears pour from it. He quickly wiped it all away, but all the Jedi in the room had seen it. To suggest anything less would mean to call them fools.
"Ben, do you need to talk?" Jysella asked. “You've been doing this for hours now. We're willing to listen, Ben."
Ben didn't answer. He couldn't answer. His prayers had come unanswered, again. All he saw here was the faceless. Just cardboard, plastic. Fiction. No Luke. No Mara. No one. They couldn't be gone. No. Not yet. This could not be the reality. Nightmare. It must be a nightmare. He ran out, slamming the door behind him, dashing down the temple. Nightmare, he told himself. Nightmare…
Then suddenly, he sensed fear. So much fear. He shivered instinctively, but he could not feel it anywhere in the Temple. No, the source of this fear was far away, light-years away, so many lifetimes away… Jaina. She was terrified to the core. Desperation was ambivalent as she seemed to be trying to contact anyone, anything, she could recognize. Jaina… Ben immediately tried to reach out for her. A dark presence suddenly appeared near Jaina, enveloping Ben's cousin in a shroud, and Ben felt her slowly begin to vanish, yet at the same time expanding her power, in an attempt to save herself. Then, she was blasted out of existence. Fire spread all over the thin bond he had with her, burning the weak ropes, causing the bridge to collapse, leaving him forever isolated from her.
Ben felt the flames. A pulse, a remnant of Jaina's pain, fear, and ultimately, regret, sheltered itself in his mind. A headache spread, turning into a migraine, and he fell onto his knees. The shockwaves were still spreading, spanning far beyond the Temple, beyond the edges of the galaxy. He could not hear himself screaming. He could not even see. All he could feel was the white. He tried to force himself to see, to find a corner, any corner, of any size, where he could just hide, just shelter, from the shockwaves. Jaina Solo was dead. That was the only thought that entered his mind. There was only one left, now. If Leia Organa Solo died, Ben would be alone. No one would be left for him to love. One more thread snapped, and he would be forever isolated, never to be found, even in plain sight.
Jaina, the Sword of the Jedi. The Heroine of the Rebellion. The latter half of Skywalker and Solo. She had now vanished from this reality. This was a nightmare he could no longer bear. He let the white scream for him, the grey cry, and the black rage. There must be an escape. This could not be real! Yet, a small, sniveling little voice told him, this was reality. That nothing he could do would ever change it and that was what made him surrender to the white, to the grey, to the red, to the black. He let himself be cannibalized from within, and hoped that he could be removed from this evil, evil reality, for he could no longer accept it.
* * *
"Did you see that?" Kitara asked as the door closed with a deafening crack that startled all; even normally impassive Tesar jumped slightly.
"He's turning himself into a wreck," Valin murmured.
Lowbacca added a short roar in agreement.
Tesar said, "Thisz one believes that Ben Skywalker isz denying himself the truth. He thinksz those who hatched him have not passed on."
Jysella stared sadly at the door, transfixed, as if she believed he would suddenly open the door. "He's killing himself," she said.
"He shouldn't be abusing himself this much." Valin sighed. "It's not his fault. Mara died protecting him against an enemy Ben frankly couldn't fight. Luke then went off, chased Callista and Daala to Corellia, and then faced off against Jacen, and… his luck ran out. His compassion betrayed him."
"Yet, I think Master Luke would do it a hundred times over, even if it was the same result. He would not strike down someone he thought could be saved, be redeemed," Kitara said.
"I only wish Ben would just accept it. I mean, Luke is watching over him right now. He's not alone," Valin said.
"I think he knows; it just hasn't registered. Or he isn't willing to believe it," Jysella answered.
Lowie made some noises that sounded like whimpers.
"Thisz one agrees, Lowbacca," Tesar rasped.
Jysella looked at the door. She suddenly pictured the event that had just transpired, the scared child that had wandered into the room. Dark blue bags were under his wild eyes, his bandage hours old and needed changing desperately, his robes looking as if he had worn them far too long. His blue eyes had looked far older than they should. Ben had seen Death with those eyes, had seen the Reaper perform his work personally, on a person he had loved so dearly, on a person who loved him in return.
Jysella Horn could not realistically say that she completely understood Ben right now. Jysella's two parents were still alive, as was her brother. Ben had just lost everyone in his family in the past year, unless Leia were to survive the coming battle at Coruscant, which would begin at any moment, or Jaina returned from her desperate mission. She could not fathom ever being without her parents, without her brother, without her best friend Kitara. At one point, she would not have considered life without Luke Skywalker. She had not even considered that Grand Master Skywalker could die. The fact he was no longer in the living still seemed too far out of the boundaries of reality to be true. But it was. She had felt it. She had felt him fade, slowly, as his life slowly ebbed away, as the Force swooped in and took him. They had all felt him die. Only the newest of the younglings hadn't, for Luke had not been around them long enough to touch their lives in the way he had touched, influenced, everyone else's. They had all suddenly felt exposed, naked, without Luke. They were still trying to adjust to the new galaxy out there, without Luke to guide them.
"Hey, Jys. You still awake?"
Kitara's voice. Jysella turned to her left, and saw the beautiful brown-haired, yellow-eyed Monilinian appear next to her.
"You've been off in your own world for the last minute or so. What's wrong?"
"I'm just thinking… about Ben. How he feels," Jysella answered her lifelong friend. Kitara had been at the Academy nearly as long as Jysella, her planet was located near Ossus.
Valin sighed. "Jys, I wouldn't worry about it. Eventually he'll wake up to the truth and recover on his own. He just needs some time to himself."
"He can't take another death, Valin. If Jaina or Leia were to die, I think he'd go over the edge," Jysella replied.
Valin nodded, understanding. Valin was a little rougher-around-the-edges than Jysella, but he was nice enough, and he shared a deep bond with Jysella, one strong enough that he knew exactly what his younger sister was thinking.
"Go ahead, then. See if you can't help him out a little. He's gonna need it. Jaina and her team haven't reported in for the last sixteen hours, and the Temple is in a near-panic."
Kitara named off the team. "Jaina, Kyp, Zekk, Thann, and Tiu. They're all so strong. I can't believe not of them has reported in."
"Thisz one'sz mind has felt Zekk perish, along with the othersz. The one named Jaina Solo still livesz, however," Tesar chimed in.
"How do you know?" Jysella asked.
Lowie added a bunch of low-pitched roars, and Jysella replied, "Oh."
The Joiner mentality, plus the bond the survivors of the Myrkr strike team had beforehand, had caused Tesar and Lowbacca to grow close to Zekk and Jaina. But Zekk being dead meant… Jysella remembered. She had stumbled upon it quite by accident, just rounding the corner, passing by the room, when she heard Zekk's words. "Jaina… I know this isn't much, but I can get something much better once the battle's over, once the whole war is over."
"I know, Zekk. It's so beautiful."
"You're just jerking me around." He had sounded so dejected, wondering why he couldn't do better for the one woman he loved, Jysella remembered.
"No, no! I know it's not the best, there are better-quality Chandrilan emeralds, but… it's the thought that counts. Zekk, yes, I will marry you."
"Thank you." Tears had to have been pouring out of his eyes; Jysella had heard it in his voice.
"Thank you so very much. You don't know how much this means to me," Zekk had said emotionally.
"Actually, I do," Jaina had told him.
"Why am I not surprised?"
That had broken up the tension in the room, and Jysella, listening near the door, had smiled. She had expected it to be as much.
"Jaina."
"Yes?"
"You are the Sword of the Jedi, Jaina. I wish to be the blade. I will never leave your side, not unless you tell me so. I want to assume the prophecy Luke said, I want all of its conditions passed on to me."
"Zekk, why are you—"
"I want to help bring peace. You are so many things, Jaina. You are the Heroine of the Rebellion. A General. The Guardian of Children. I want to share at least some of the burdens you carry."
"Zekk—"
"I love you, Jaina, and I will help you bring peace to all of those who stand in your shadow, even if it means I shall know no peace. I won't leave you, ever. I will always be by your side."
"Zekk… thank you."
There had been no more. Jysella had left quickly, before one of them opened the door, but no one ever approached the door. Now Zekk was dead. Jaina, wherever she was, had to devastated, Jysella thought. She had finally been ready to move on beyond just being a hero, beyond being just the Sword of the Jedi. She had been ready to accept love once more, and have a family, children. A future had forever been destroyed with the one flip of a lightsaber blade, a future brimming with love, children, amazing and wonderful deeds, and, most importantly of all, hope. It had vanished. In an instant, all of that was gone. It was a future no one would ever see or experience. The galaxy that Zekk and Jaina were stepping into had been torn apart for all of eternity. Zekk was dead. In taking the burdens of the Jedi's sword, he was lost.
Then, suddenly, a shockwave, just like Luke's, billowed throughout the room. Throughout the Temple. Beyond. Stretching all over the galaxy. Torment, fear, a sustained cry. Then nothing. It had seemed as if a hurricane had struck the Temple, and quickly dissipated. Tesar was sissing like mad. Lowie let out a sad, questioning roar. Then another, louder, saddened roar of emptiness. It felt so freezing, so lonely, all of a sudden, and Jysella felt like crossing her arms and shivering. She felt terrified, as if a blanket had been thrown off of her, and a dark, evil assailant with a knife was standing over her. Yet she also felt depressed, as if she had lost all of her hope, all of her will to survive.
"Jaina Solo… friend, warrior, a bringer of peace. Thisz one wasz proud to consider her a hatchmate…" Tesar murmured.
Valin immediately stared at Tesar, his eyes widening. His voice was a strangled whisper, his eyes darkened with poisoned shadows, moving across his eyes like spiders. His mouth hung slightly open, revealing his teeth, grinding against each other. "Jaina Solo? No, not her. She's invincible, even more so than Luke. That's impossible. Crazy," Valin said, so rapidly his words began melding together.
Lowie seemed too traumatized to speak. Tesar didn't seem to want to speak either, but he said flately, "Nothing isz impossible, young one." He then refused to acknowledge Valin, even as the young man began to probe further, his questions becoming increasingly desperate. "The Sword of the Jedi isz dead." Tesar said, his tail thrashing the ground once in anger, in finality. "And thisz one could not help his friend. Jaina Solo isz dead, her mission hasz failed."
"Allana," Kitara gasped.
"No!" The Monilinian cried. "No. Not Allana. She was… she… doesn't deserve this!" she screamed. Her tail fluffed up, revealing her considerable distress.
Valin echoed that statement, saying, "Losing your mother, then your grandfather, then being kidnapped by your own dad, then losing both your great-uncle and great-aunt, and then losing your aunt just now. I can't imagine how much pain Allana is in right now."
"That's assuming she's still alive," Kitara sniffed.
A switch flipped inside Jysella. A remark floated to her mind, ghostily, slowly.
He's turning himself to a wreck. Valin.
He's killing himself. She had said that herself. He can't take another death. If Jaina or Leia were to die, I think he'd go over the edge.
And then, a name slowly revealed itself to her memory. "Ben," she whispered.
You must help Ben, a strong, feminine voice said. Death is not his destiny. Not yet.
"Ben, no," Jysella fought a sudden tear in her right eye, blinked it away, and dashed to the door and swung it open. Dashing outside, she tore in the direction where she thought Ben had headed, running faster than she had ever run before.
"Hey, Jys! Wait!" Valin caught the door before it closed and swung it open again, chasing after her, followed closely by Kitara.
Jysella tore down the hallway, and saw a relatively tall man suddenly walk in front of her path. Shoulder first, she slammed into the man, knocking him over and she leapt over him. Faster… I have to move faster! she willed herself. She pictured the young man in her mind, the exhausted, deluded, self-abusive Ben Skywalker. The eyes forever haunted by the Reaper. The sweat all over his body. The frantic expression of terror, the frustrated contortions of false hopes. She must keep running for their sake. For Ben. For Mara Jade. For Luke.
Valin stopped, pausing to apologize to the fallen man, a Jedi Knight in his late thirties named Jaden Korr. "Sorry, sir. I don't know what's happening, but—" Suddenly, recognition burned in Valin's eyes. "Oh. It's you. I take the apology back—"
"Come on! Save your old grudge for later!" Kitara pulled Valin by the arm, and, remembering, he followed Kitara as they dashed after his suddenly frantic sister.
Jaden sat up, rubbing the back of his head, moaning softly. A young Jedi passed by, and began laughing.
"Oh! The Slayer of Tavion got squished by a girl!" the young Rodian Jedi taunted, and that got a few snicker from a pair of Gamorreans nearby.
Jaden gave the young Jedi a glare that could curdle Ralltiirian vanlotte cream. The Rodian Jedi, sensing the danger in the man's eyes, quickly dashed off, not wanting to bring the man's wrath upon himself. The Gamorreans also made themselves scarce, they being mere tourists and definitely not sensitive to the Force. Jaden got up, brushed himself off. Wonder what that was about. I can't seem to stay away from Jysella even if I want to. I guess I kind of deserved that. Still, I wonder what's happening.
If only he had known. Perhaps the coming confrontation would not have been fraught with so much danger. Even with the knowledge of what she would face, Jysella ran. She made a sudden right, sensed a great power running up the nearby stairs. She followed the presence, fighting the urge to stop and catch her breath. Ben, please. Stop. Don't let me be too late, please, Jysella thought as she ran up the stairs, three with each step, struggling to the top, lungs burning, hoping she had somehow gained on him. That she had managed to make up even nanoseconds.
She couldn't let him go. Ben did not deserve the pain he carried in his heart, but he was too special, he was a Skywalker. She thought she heard words, uttered by Mara Jade. You're almost there. Go! She didn't know whether it was a Force trick, Mara's actual voice, or something subliminal in her mind. She believed it nevertheless, and she managed to turn the corner, sensing the presence getting closer and closer. The presence had stopped. He billowed with wind, with hollowness. As Jysella slowed, and walked closer, she could see the broken child, could hear his ragged breaths, and could sense his anger, his fear.
"Ben!" she gasped out. She forced herself to stand up straight, to manage deep breaths. She ignored the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and she prepared to step closer.
"Why do you follow me?!" Ben's voice was almost a shout, he could no longer control the emotions pent up inside his mind, his body, his soul for so long.
"Ben…” Jysella could not find any words to say. It was all a blur to her now, the collision with Korr, the run, the passion and thoughts swirling throughout her mind. She could not explain why she had chased after him like this.
"Leave me alone, Jysella." It was a threat, no warning, no hint of empathy. Jysella could see Ben unclip his lightsaber from his belt, and hold it at his side, unlit.
"I can't do that," Jysella said, speaking the truth, as she took a step closer.
"Then I'll make you leave." Ben ignited his lightsaber, a bright, neon blue blade suddenly shot out, and he turned around.
His face. Rage controlled it, his face reddened with loath, disgust, and desperation. His eyes glowered; his hands clutched the lightsaber with death grips. Valin and Kitara caught up then.
Valin screamed, "Whoa!" and reached for his own lightsaber, only to find his hands caught by Kitara.
"Wait," she whispered. Valin stared at Kitara for the moment, and then looked back at Ben.
"Ben, you don't want to do this. We're your friends. We want to help you in any way we can," Valin said, quickly recovering.
Ben turned his attention off of Jysella and towards the newcomers. "This doesn't concern you, any of you! I want my father! Where is he? Where do you hold him? Let him go!"
Valin and Kitara instinctively backed away a step, but Jysella held her ground. She could almost sense what was spiraling through Ben's mind, the self-inflicted torture, the delusions, the pain, anger and tears. "Ben, please. I know what you're going through, and—"
"Stop pretending to understand! You don't know me. You, none of you, know what I am, what it's like to be me." Ben's face transformed into a mad half-smile. "I know who you are. What all of you are," he hissed. "Demons. That's what all of you are. Demons sent to me by that witch. She wants me to be like her. But no. I won't let some images, some faceless puppets, bring me in. No."
"Ben, calm down," Valin said in desperation. He looked behind him. Where was a Master? Where was anyone? They needed help. People here should sense it.
"Calm down. Ha. You expect me to calm down, do you? You don't exist. YOU DON'T EXIST! You're just a nightmare. Just a dream. And then I'll wake up and I'll see that nothing's changed, that Mom and Dad and Jacen and Jaina and everyone is here, that there is no war, no Lumiya, no death, and nothing is wrong!" he ranted, a mad half-smile appearing on his red face.
Jysella took one step forward. "Ben, if you attack I won't defend myself. If I have to die, and put one more death on your shoulders to prove that this is reality, I'll do it! I'll die in order to make you see." Did I just say that? Did I just say I'll sacrifice myself? She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant anything like that.
"Jys, please tell me you didn't just say that. Please tell me I'm hearing things," Valin said nervously, echoing Jysella's thoughts.
Suddenly, Ben charged forward, rage venting out of him, every step a release. Valin reached for his lightsaber, and Kitara attempted to grab hers, but Jysella did not move. Ben ran within striking distance; he brought his blade down, close to her neck… and stopped. His blade stopped mere centimeters from Jysella's neck. She felt the heat radiating from the blade, the light wafting in a contained strain of pure energy. The weapon of the Force stood poised to strike her down.
* * *
Valin prepared to charge forward at the sight of Ben rushing his sister, but Kitara, again, restrained him. "Valin, you attack, Jysella dies. Ben will do it," she whispered. Valin made a furious grunting noise, but contained himself, and watched the silent game play out between Ben and Jysella. He had no other choice.
Jysella's eyes moved towards Ben's. They stared for several long moments. Finally, she broke the silence. "You really want to do it, Ben? You want to be convinced that this is real? Kill me, and you will feel my life fade, you will see me fall, and you will realize that this is reality and you just killed one of your friends, one of your fellow Knights."
"T-This is just a nightmare. You're nothing. You have to be. No human, no real human, would just stand there and let herself be cut down," Ben murmured, his voice high-pitched, terrified, doubting.
"Look at me, Ben," Jysella's voice took on a power Valin had never heard his sister use before, it sounded firm, unafraid, calm. "Do I look faceless to you? Do I look like some demonic puppet? Has Lumiya pulled you into a nightmare? Or has she entered your mind, and is influencing you into believing this is a mere dream, even though you are in reality?"
Ben's hands shook, the lightsaber dipped slightly. Just slightly. His mind swarmed with the words, and he briefly looked away from Jysella.
"Or have you merely told yourself what you want to hear, and ignore all of the signs of life, of reality? Now calm down and think. Do any of your actions, any of your words, anything you've been doing at all make any sense?"
Ben paused. The lightsaber dipped to his side now, away from her neck, but still lit, still a threat. Ben looked at the ground, staring at pieces of dust along the checkered floor, trying to make sense of what he had been seeing, what he had done. The lightsaber deactivated. "No." There was a clanking noise. The lightsaber dropped to the ground, bouncing upwards briefly before laying to rest. Ben's hands trembled. His hands fully opened, he moved both of them in front of his face. Tears flowed from his widened eyes, and he could barely speak. "No. What am I doing? I almost… I almost...." Ben collapsed to his knees, and balled his hands into fists, and he bent his head inwards to his chest. His breaths became ragged and inconsistent; he was trying to stop himself from sobbing like a broken, beaten child. His body trembled, and he whispered, "I can't take it. I can't take it. There's so much, too much… I wish… someone would… understand… it's cold I'm alone… all alone…."
"You're not alone, Ben."
Suddenly, Ben found himself cloaked. An arm was wrapped around his lower back, steadying him; the other hand patted him, softly, between the shoulder blades. Something rested on his left shoulder, and a soft voice said, "It's all right. You don't need to be afraid anymore. Valin, Kitara, and I will be here for you. Always."
Valin remained focussed, ready for Ben to suddenly attack, when Kitara put her hand on his shoulder. "Valin, enough. I don't think Ben's exactly in condition to attack us anymore."
"Right, right." Valin deactivated his blade, and clipped it back on his belt. He took a deep breath, attempting a Jedi calming technique, and failed. Turning to Kitara, he said, in the calmest voice he could muster, "Get a Master over here, if one isn't already on his or her way. Then get a healer, like Cilghal or Tekli. I don't think Ben's gonna be fit for anything for a while."
Kitara nodded. She turned around and ran down the hall, hoping to encounter someone, anyone, who was available.
Valin tu | |