Beyond - Legends The End of All Light (Post-NJO AU: Anakin Solo, Jacen, Jaina, L/M, H/L, many more) Updated 11/29/14!

Yeah. That was totally expected. I mean, Dathomir? That planet is like taboo because of all of those Nightsisters and what not.

Still, should be interesting to see how they get out of it.

Fantastic update as usual, YK.

 

Great chapter and cliffhanger. What does Malig want with Dathomiri witches? Are they part of his plan for the Reckoner, like Zonama Sekot? Lots of possiblities there. Can't wait for next week!

 

good chapter, if a little short. i hope u show more of Wrev, he's a character that i like.

update soon.

 

I always think Dathomir has a ton a potential for stories.

I do love the way you write Jaina....strong, emotional, willful, but still in control of herself.

Profic lately seems to be giving less and less credit to our female characters, which I find so sad. (Leia was my lst big action hero as a little girl)

I can't wait for Anakin to wander into the middle of this situation!

 

I, too, like how you write Jaina. You inject a sort of confidence into her that the books lack.

I assume Jonah is Jacen and Tenel Ka's son?

Do I sense something potentially brewing between Jaina and Wrev. I wouldn't mind that. He's a cool guy.

Anyways, great update again! Keep up the good work.

 

9th, I am. Wrev just makes me want to grin. There, all better. But there was an irritating sort of charm about him that made Jaina waver between wanting to punch him in the face and kick him in the crotch. Hmm, which one would hurt less? You could always do both.

 

Maggy: so Jaina is in trouble ... I think Anakin will be no kind of help

You underestimate his powers



Thanks for reading and replying





Dreadwar: First!
Oops, second.

It was very close

Great chapter!

Thanks!

Nice to see Jaina and Dathomir again. I feel like I haven't seen them in a long time. Of course, we haven't actually seen Dathomir before in Legacy of the Sith.

Very true. It popped up in canon this year at least We haven't seen Jaina since the last post in Lands of the Dead, when she was hovering around some bacta tanks I guess she'll have to make up for lost time and kick some extra ass now

Interesting about the Raithians though. I'm presuming they got the Nightsisters on their side, but how did they know who to strike?

That's an interesting theory I guess we'll have to wait and see exactly what happened.

And the Witches rock as always. Force-sensitives who call Force powers spells, wield spears and ride Rancors. Awesome.

Also, they're totally hot [face_drool]



Seriously though, the Withes of Dathomir are awesome

Thanks for reading and replying





GMK: THIRD!

Nicely done

Great, Jaina. Just great. you led them all into a trap, do you realize this?

Well, Lura V was actually the one that led them into the trap. Jaina just followed

Even if Anakin gets there in time, whats to stop the Nightsisters and Lura V from killing all of you?

Good manners?

You make an excellent point. They're all gonna die!

I hate to say this, bu the next time Wrev has a bad feeling, listen to him. It will be better for all.

I don't know that that's the best advice He was right this time, but he also kind of got his ass kicked too

Great post, Yobi. Can't wait for more.

Thanks and thanks for reading and replying More on Friday!






Phoenix5: Yeah. That was totally expected. I mean, Dathomir? That planet is like taboo because of all of those Nightsisters and what not.

Yeah, they had to make an appearance It just wouldn't be complete without them.

Still, should be interesting to see how they get out of it.

I'm sure they'll think of something

Fantastic update as usual, YK.

Thank you very much, and thanks for reading and replying






corran: Great chapter and cliffhanger.

Thanks! It seemed like the best place to end it

What does Malig want with Dathomiri witches? Are they part of his plan for the Reckoner, like Zonama Sekot?

This is a great question, and a good theory. I'd say you may be on to something here...

Lots of possiblities there. Can't wait for next week!

We'll be going elsewhere on Friday, but we'll be back to Dathomir in a few chapters.

Thanks for reading and replying






shahid_chestro: good chapter,

Thanks!

if a little short.

I think the next one is another 8,500 word monstrosity, if that makes up for it

i hope u show more of Wrev, he's a character that i like.

Good to hear. There will be a lot more of Wrev in this one that the last fic, when he was out of it for most of the story because we couldn't know what he was up to This will be more like The Age of Heroes and Exodus as far as his involvement.

update soon.

Will do.

Thanks for reading and replying






TSF: I always think Dathomir has a ton a potential for stories.

I agree. There's a lot of cool stuff there

I do love the way you write Jaina....strong, emotional, willful, but still in control of herself.

Aw, thanks She's one of my favorites, as you know, so that's good to hear.

 

Typical. One would think that Jedi would be smarter than that.

Ever since I first discovered the character of Jaina Solo, I anticipated that she would have so much potential for contributions to just about any story. More importantly, why is it that this Jaina is being systematically isolated from practically everybody with whom she once had strong relationships? That is suspicious, but I can't say why exactly...

And why is it that time and time again she becomes relegated to the role of a second-rate-damsel-in-distress while her wayward siblings spend their time attempting to destroy pretty much anything and anybody they can (especially each other) while Jaina remains ineffectual despite the fact that she could whip them both anytime she felt like it.

What a waste. It would really be something if it turns out that Jaina is actually the Sith'ari, and everything depends upon her at one pivotal moment that nobody sees coming.

 

Easy there, Negative Nancy.

After all, Jaina is like Rorschach. She's not stuck on Dathomir with all those Nightsisters. They're stuck there with her. (And Tenel Ka and Alema and Wrev and Lowbacca, etc.)

 

Oh, Nightsisters. Well, at least it ain't the Sith. Yet. ^^

Good chapter!

 

Wow, I just started reading this one So glad I did though.

First, I have to applaud how strong the writing is in this fic You have a very adept knack for colorful descriptions, making the picture presented so captivating. Also, you have strong characterizations woven really well into the intricacies of the plot. Awesome! I love all the layers to this story, and can imagine all the directions this plot will go in.

And to jump off of what some other people have been saying, I also enjoy the way you've written Jaina. She's one of my favorite characters, and I've been really disappointed in how... bland they've made her in FotJ. It's so refreshing to read her this way.

Great job, please add me to the PM list!

 

It's offical! You shocked out all my shock! (if thats possible )

JAINA! HELLO, did you even catch on to that? What are we going to do with you?

Now watch, rather some one *cough-cough* Anakin *cough-cough* is going to rescue her OR she & her kick-butt Jedi buddies are going to get out of this just fine.

But they are Nghtsister, soo......this could might get intresting.

Looking forward to more!

 

This promises to be interesting, to say the least. And why does Wrev remind me so much of Han(Solo, who else)?

 

L0B0: Typical. One would think that Jedi would be smarter than that.

Yeah. Even Jedi walk into traps sometimes, I guess

Ever since I first discovered the character of Jaina Solo, I anticipated that she would have so much potential for contributions to just about any story.

I agree. I think Jaina is a great character in that way.

More importantly, why is it that this Jaina is being systematically isolated from practically everybody with whom she once had strong relationships? That is suspicious, but I can't say why exactly...

I'm not sure what you mean

And why is it that time and time again she becomes relegated to the role of a second-rate-damsel-in-distress while her wayward siblings spend their time attempting to destroy pretty much anything and anybody they can (especially each other) while Jaina remains ineffectual despite the fact that she could whip them both anytime she felt like it.

Again, I'm not sure I understand your meaning. Jaina has had more scenes in the 8 stories of this series than her siblings, and even had one story that was almost entirely hers?Empire of the Hand. It was also only two stories ago in Exodus that she was the one going head to head with her brother (Jacen) and stopped the fight to save a man (Wrev). I've never seen Jaina as a damsel-in-distress, or as somehow inferior to her brothers and I hope I haven't written her that way.

What a waste. It would really be something if it turns out that Jaina is actually the Sith'ari, and everything depends upon her at one pivotal moment that nobody sees coming.

That would be interesting. We know back in The Age of Heroes she was actually the popular choice between the Sith for a number of reasons but their focus soon became Jacen, and to a lesser extent, Anakin.

Thanks for reading and replying





Rew: After all, Jaina is like Rorschach. She's not stuck on Dathomir with all those Nightsisters. They're stuck there with her. (And Tenel Ka and Alema and Wrev and Lowbacca, etc.)



One of my favorite lines of all-time. I love that comic. When the psychiatrist reads that line you finally realize

I guess we'll have to wait and see how things play out with the Nightsisters. I think there will be some surprises





Magnuskn: Oh, Nightsisters. Well, at least it ain't the Sith. Yet. ^^

Or are they?



Good chapter!

Thanks and thanks for reading and replying






PalarasAndhek: Wow, I just started reading this one So glad I did though.

Cool Always nice to see a new face. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far

First, I have to applaud how strong the writing is in this fic You have a very adept knack for colorful descriptions, making the picture presented so captivating. Also, you have strong characterizations woven really well into the intricacies of the plot. Awesome! I love all the layers to this story, and can imagine all the directions this plot will go in.

Wow, thank you That's very nice of you to say. This is a fairly complex story with a lot of plot lines and characters. Hopefully they'll all reach a satisfying resolution in this one.

And to jump off of what some other people have been saying, I also enjoy the way you've written Jaina. She's one of my favorite characters, and I've been really disappointed in how... bland they've made her in FotJ. It's so refreshing to read her this way.

Aw, thanks Jaina is one of my favorites too and I always love writing her. I too have been disappoitned with her in FotJ, and with large chunks in LotF as well.

Here's hoping that improves...

Great job, please add me to the PM list!

Will do. Thanks so much for reading and replying






Goddess_At_Heart: It's offical! You shocked out all my shock! (if thats possible )

I'm not sure it is, but I won't doubt you

JAINA! HELLO, did you even catc

 

Your no fun! Have you heard about that Prince of Persia movie?

 

PirateofRohan: Your no fun!

I know, I know

Have you heard about that Prince of Persia movie?

I have. Not sure what to make of it. I'm not much of a Jerry Bruckheimer fan, so this would have to get outstanding reviews for me to chance seeing it I never played the games, but they always looked cool.

I take it you're looking forward to this one?

I'm a lot more excited about Christopher Nolan's new movie





PointGiven: As a random aside, the newest Legacy comic issue has a new character named Darth Havok, who doesn't seem to be what he/she appears

Thanks for the heads up. I'll begin preparing my lawsuit now

Seriously though, that's awesome, and I really like the other major spoiler from that issue I really, really need to catch up on Legacy now!







New post tomorrow. Hope you guys like it

 

Oh, you can forget the movie, Yobi, but you've got to play the games! At least Sands of Time, anyway.

Eagerly awaiting the next chapter...

Whoa, whoa, it's happy? No fair, I was told this was the end of all light!

 

Yeah, the games are awesome! Regardless the reviews of the movie, I'm probably gonna see it anyway, just for the heck of it. Maybe this time I will finally be the first post!

 

Dreadwar: Oh, you can forget the movie, Yobi, but you've got to play the games! At least Sands of Time, anyway.

I meant to play it years and years ago and never got around to it. I have a copy somewhere still in the shrinkwrap. It's embarrassing how many games I have that way

Eagerly awaiting the next chapter...
Whoa, whoa, it's happy? No fair, I was told this was the end of all light!

Consider this your momentary interlude from despair We'll be back to bleakness and tragedy soon though, I promise!





Rohan: Yeah, the games are awesome!

They certainly look it

Regardless the reviews of the movie, I'm probably gonna see it anyway, just for the heck of it.

Hey, sometimes movies get panned unfairly. We all have movies we love that critics told us were garbage *coughsPrequelscoughs* I hope you like it

Maybe this time I will finally be the first post!

I'll be rooting for you






New post in a few

 

Chapter 6: Home Again

The generator hummed quietly to life as its timed cycle began, sending filtered streams of artificial daylight through the slatted autoblinds that covered the false window. Golden brilliance shined through in bent stripes that cascaded across a pile of rumpled sheets on the bed and warmed the bodies beneath.

Luke Skywalker felt one of these bands of light on his face, casting the darkness of his dreams away and heating his closed eyelids a transparent pink.

He opened his eyes and smiled.

Lying across from him, her limbs tangled with his own and knots of awry bedding, was his wife.

Mara Jade Skywalker's ocean of red hair was tousled and matted in a beautiful mess, spilling across her pillow and his, dancing down her neck and shoulders, curling on her cheek, while a single wavy tendril hung over her closed eyes like a blindfold. Shafts of light stretched over her bare back in bright segments that bleached her already milky skin a starker white and exposed clusters of barely visible freckles. The wonderful line of his wife's back and bumps of her spine ended in a skirt of bunched sheets, from which emerged a single naked thigh draped warmly over Luke's hip.

It was hard for him to believe that what he was seeing was not an illusion, not some torturous mirage that would evaporate the moment he reached for her.

She was really there.

After almost a year of fighting to get back to his wife and son, after clinging to nothing but the hope of seeing them again, and eventually losing even that, she was really there beside him again.

In the four months since his return from Raithian imprisonment on Apollyon, Luke Skywalker woke every morning to this same sight, and realized more than ever that he was an extraordinarily lucky man.

His wife must have felt him stir, as one of her emerald eyes fluttered open, her long lashes batting the tendril of red hair that had fallen there aside. A lazy smile pulled at the corners of Mara's pink lips when she saw him watching her.

"Morning," she said, closing her eye again. "Creep."

"Good morning," Luke replied, his smile broadening.

"You sleep okay?"

"I did. You?"

"Mm," she nodded.

"We could turn that off, you know," Luke offered, inclining his head toward the window and the light shimmering through. "Stay in bed awhile."

Mara shook her head. "He's going to be up soon," she said. "And hungry."

The Jedi Master snorted. "I'll take care of it—you stay and sleep a bit."

"You sure?"

Luke swung his legs off of the bed and reached for a loose pair of sleep pants in a heap on the floor. "Yeah. I don't mind."

"Okay," Mara allowed with mock-resignation. "You convinced me."

"And I didn't even have to use the Force."

Pulling the pants on, Luke stood up from the bed and was a half-step toward the chamber's circular hatchway when he turned back around, leaned over the bed and placed his lips on his wife's forehead. Before he could pull away, Mara surprised him by lifting her mouth to his in a languid kiss.

"Thanks," she said when their lips parted, her green eyes peeking through drowsy lashes for only a moment before disappearing again.

"You're very welcome," Luke assured her.

He would have liked to have taken the time to do some brief meditation, stretching, and even some calisthenics to bring him fully awake—all of which were a part of his typical morning routine—but it just wasn't an option today. Without any more delays, Luke stepped through the bedchamber's hatchway and sauntered into the living area of the Skywalkers' new quarters.

While they were a far cry from the dormitories at the Temple on Ossus or the apartments they'd owned on Denon and Coruscant, the accommodations they'd been given on the space station called "Halo" were adequate in most ways and certainly cozy when the heating system was functioning properly—and they were a vast, vast improvement over the prison cells Luke had maintained residence in over most of the last year.

The sporadic heating wasn't the only obstacle on Halo. There were frequent, hairline breaches to its overstressed hull, an erratic lightning system that seemed to leave the station's winding corridors in complete darkness or stroboscopic, seizure-inducing flickers, and a daily battle with its indolent power generators. When added to the already burdensome task of keeping the mobile Jedi base hidden from the rest of the galaxy, it became a never-ending struggle to maintain.

All things considered, however, Halo was a remarkable success. In little more than a month, Lando Calrissian's company Tendrando Arms and the Independent Traders Union had been able to construct the base at the embattled Jedi's behest to something nearing "working order" before the Raithians invaded Ossus and raided the Temple there. Since then, it had kept the Jedi hidden from its enemies for more than a year.

Halo was currently masked in the shadow of one of Tatooine's moons, along with a flotilla of Chiss, Empire of the Hand, and Imperial Remnant warships. More of their forces lay behind the planet's second moon and spread throughout the rest of the system. It had become apparent after Jacen Solo infiltrated the space station with a team of decoy-Squibs that they could no longer hide in Chiss territory, and Grand Admiral Thrawn was anxious to move his forces to a position where they could implement a more aggressive strategy.

The Jedi had struck a deal with the Hutts after a crime lord named Cordoba's bargain with the Raithians went sour and the Hutt clans grew nervous, realizing their reign of lawlessness might cease if the Raithians remained a part of the Galactic Alliance. Mara had also managed to negotiate the assistance of a Neimodian crime syndicate.

They were ugly alliances for the Jedi to make, but their current crisis didn't allow them the luxury of being picky.

Beyond the fleets and sanctuary afforded them by the galaxy's scummiest beings, Halo's last line of protection came in the form of the dozens of ysalamiri housed within its bulkheads. Each of the small, flaxen-furred reptiles projected a Force-neutral bubble around them, which eliminated a Jedi's ability to use or even feel the Force when they were near one—more importantly, it prevented anyone from sensing them in the Force as well.

Since the start of the conflict, the Raithian creature called "Faybol," who was Darth Malig's Hand and possessed the astonishing ability to sense all Force-users across the galaxy, had been hunting the Jedi, making it impossible for the Order to rest anywhere that left them exposed to Faybol's keen skill. The ysalamiri were the key to blocking Faybol's ability to sense them—but the creatures in turn left the Jedi severely handicapped while they resided in Halo.

In the end, it was a compromise they had no choice but to accept—not while Faybol still existed.

A muted rustling from the kitchen area captured Luke's attention when he stepped out into the living room, but before he could investigate his path was blocked by the squat form of a blue-and-white painted astromech droid humming along on its rolling tread. R2-D2 trilled and whistled happily at the sight of his master, his primary photoreceptor blinking blue with delight.

"Good morning, Artoo," Luke smiled. He patted the droid's cool dome as he passed and made his way towards the kitchen.

The clamor of rummaging grew clearer as the Jedi Master approached the kitchen and entered to find little more than a pair of short legs and small, bare feet sticking out of the room's modest cupboard.

Another smile spread across Luke's face. "What are you doing there?"

"Makin' breakfast," answered a muffled voice buried within the cupboard.

"Why don't you let me take care of that," the man chuckled, stepping forward to grab his son by the waist and pulling him out of the cupboard before setting him down gently on the floor.

Ben Skywalker frowned uncertainly as he looked up at his father. "I can do it," he protested.

"I'm sure you can," Luke said. "But the question is, how big of a mess will you make in the process?

The six-year-old boy's face wrinkled thoughtfully as he mulled the question over. Finally the tension around his blue eyes lessened and seemed to brighten as the youngster gave a little shrug. "okay."

Luke reached down and ruffled the mop of reddish-blond hair that topped the boy's head before Ben scampered behind the crescent-shaped bar that ringed one half of the kitchen and scaled a stool dangerously tall for him. Laughing to himself, Luke turned to the limited array of appliances and food storage space in their small dwelling and set about preparing breakfast. He put a half dozen nausage links on the thermapad and began folding dustcrepes while they warmed and sizzled, sending an aroma wafting through their quarters that reminded Luke of his own childhood on Tatooine. Carefully timing everything out, he then cracked a few rinn eggs and scrambled them the way his son liked, before dishing everything out on two plates and pouring two glasses of vitajuice.

Luke handed his son his plate and drink then settled down on the stool next to Ben with his own meal. The boy immediately began scooping food into his mouth as though Luke and Mara had kept him caged and starving for a week. He held his fork in a child-like way that was more shovel than anything else and made Luke smirk as he began eating.

"Thanks, Dad," Ben said between a mouthful of dustcrepes. "This is good."

"You're welcome," Luke replied. "Just try not to choke, okay?"

The boy laughed. "You're funny."

He said it as though the two were only now getting to know each other, and Luke realized then that the year he'd spent away from his family, which had been so torturous for him, had seemed even longer to his son. For Ben, a year was an eternity, and such a huge chunk of his short life. A great sadness overcame Luke as he thought of all he had missed, and he set his fork aside, unable to eat.

"Ben, I'm very glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're back too, Dad," the boy said, continuing to gobble.

"And I love you very much," Luke added, again tousling his son's hair.

"I love you too."

"I've been thinking about something a lot lately that I hoped we could talk about."

This time Ben looked up from his plate suspiciously, seeming to sense the gravity of what was coming, but whatever misgivings he felt didn't persist over his appetite as he quickly returned to eating. "Okay."

"Your mom told me that while I was gone, you... you did something, Ben," Luke began tentatively.

"I didn't do it!" Ben shouted excitedly, dropping his fork. "It was Threepio, I swear, Dad. I don't know why he wanted to switch on the Shadow's thrusters while it was still docked. I tried to talk him out of it, but he just got this crazy look in his eyes, you know? He wouldn't listen to reason—"

"That's not actually what I was talking about," Luke interrupted with a disapproving frown.

"Oh."

"I was referring to what you did during the evacuation of Ossus, Ben—and again during the Centerpoint diversion a few days after that. Do you remember?"

Ben seemed to shrink nervously, his little hand retrieving his fork again. Instead of resuming eating when he lifted the utensil, however, he contented himself with merely picking at the remains of his breakfast. "Yes, I remember..."

"Would you like to talk about it, Ben?"

"Not really... but we can if you really want to, Dad."

"What you did wasn't bad, Ben—it was actually very good," the Jedi Master said, placing a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "It's called 'battle meditation'—did you know that?"

"I heard Kyp and some of the other Masters saying that."

"Do you know what it means?"

Ben shook his head.

"It means you have an extremely rare gift, Ben, an ability I can't even master," Luke explained. "In fact, there's no one in the Jedi Order who can do it on the scale you were able to do."

"Really?"

His father nodded. "Really."

If what his wife had told Luke was true, Ben's actions at Ossus were nothing short of incredible. The planet was under siege by Traest Kre'fey's Fifth Fleet and the Raithians. They'd raided the Temple there and killed many Jedi in the process. It was Ben who'd saved the rest. The boy had reached out in the Force and single-handedly rallied the escaping Jedi forces to break the blockade that encircled Ossus, allowing them to make their way to hyperspace. Kyp Durron described a level of battle coordination even more amazing at Centerpoint only a few days later.

"Battle meditation is an ancient Jedi art. It allows a person to augment the abilities of others—make them quicker, stronger, sharper mentally, more confident—it boosts their morale in a way that gives them an edge over opponents. Through this, the practitioner can coordinate entire battles, make a fleet or army operate as a single entity."

"Like a Jedi battle meld?"

"Yes, very much like that," Luke said, "only on a much larger scale, and one that includes those who cannot touch the Force themselves."

Ben frowned sadly. "I didn't like it," he replied quietly. "There were all these people who were hurting and scared... I just tried to make them feel better."

"I know you did, Ben. But you did the right thing and saved a lot of people's lives—on both sides of the war, really. I wish I could tell you that you'd never have to do it again if you didn't want to..."

"Dad?"

"I've given this a lot of thought the last few months, Ben—both your mom and I have, and we've discussed it at length. When someone has as much power as you do, they also have a responsibility—and I don't mean it's your responsibility to use simply because you have the ability. That's not why I'm telling you this. If I had my way, you'd never have to use it again... but it's not going to be up to me.

"What I mean is, when you're older, Ben, there are going to be people who try to use your abilities for their own ends, who try to manipulate you. We all face these choices in life, but for someone who is Force-sensitive, the consequences of failure are far graver. You understand that, don't you?"

"You mean like Darth Vader?"

Luke nodded, his expression turning grim at the mention of his father's Sith name and the fact that his son had to be made aware of the horrors of Anakin Skywalker at such a young age. "That's right. The only way I see to avoid this, is to teach you how to use your abilities the right way, so that when you are older, you won't be tempted by those who would seek to manipulate you by teaching you the wrong way. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," the boy said unconvincingly.

"You don't have to be a Jedi, Ben—I want you to understand that. Before you were born, your mom and me talked about that a lot, and both agreed that you would be free to become whatever you wanted when you are older. But if I don't teach you how to use your powers properly, it would be irresponsible."

"So you're going to teach me battle medication?"

"Meditation," Luke grinned. "And no, not really. I'll help you where I can, with the basics and the concepts behind it, but as I said, you have a power that I do not, so I cannot fully train you. I want you to train with Master Shan."

"Malachor?"

"Yes," Ben's father confirmed.

It was while locked away inside an ancient prison on Apollyon that Luke first met Garrison Shan—a Jedi Knight from Raithian space, who had first concealed his identity under the false name "Malachor." The two had been mistrustful of each other for a time, even after Luke had recovered from the shock of learning there was a rogue Order of Jedi lost and forgotten in the dark side nexus. Together, the pair had managed to escape their captivity, rescuing most of the other Jedi whom had been moved there with Luke, and three of Shan's comrades—Amid Crenz, Necil Krace, and Hala Rozess—though he didn't really know any of them. The Jedi in Raithian space were a scattered, guerilla resistance that did what they could to assist planets and peoples under the rule of the Empire.

After they'd escaped Apollyon, Shan had given Luke his real name and revealed why he had used it to begin with—he was something of a leader amongst the rogue Jedi who possessed the rare gift of Battle Meditation and had been sought after by the Raithians for years. When they finally caught him, he lied about who he was to prevent being killed or used by the Sith.

In the course of their time on Apollyon, Shan had proven himself to be a trustworthy ally and friend—one he knew he could depend on to teach Ben. Sometimes, Luke wondered if that had been his destiny when their paths crossed...

"I think it would be good if you trained with him for awhile, Ben," Luke went on. "He can teach you far more about this than I can."

Ben's brow flattened as he considered the idea. "But how are we going to do that? No one can use the Force on Halo, right?"

"That's true, but you can still receive instruction, even if you can't use the Force, and you can meditate without it as well," Luke explained. "It's just like anything else—you can learn about it without actually doing it. And someday soon, I'm confident we'll be free of these ysalamiri and you can train in a more comprehensive way."

"All right," Ben said somewhat glumly, still picking at his food with his fork.

Before they could continue their discussion, the hatchway behind them whisked open and Luke twisted around to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes in the darkness of the corridor outside. A golden protocol droid shuffled into their quarters with all the flexibility of a block of stone, his rigid, waddling motions scored by the quiet whir of dozens of servomotors in his stiff joints. When he reached the edge of the light field created by the kitchen's glowpanels, C-3PO's bronzium coverings gleamed majestically with the oil bath and polishing Luke had given him three days earlier. In his hands he clutched two things stacked atop each other near the tangle of wires in his gut—one was a wide book bound in red leather, and the other a large-screen datapad.

R2-D2 trundled forward when he spotted his counterpart and emitted a stream of sharp whistles and beeps.

"I am not intruding on anything," Threepio protested. "Master Luke asked me to come here."

Again, there was a harsh bleat followed by a raspberry from the little astromech.

"Oh, mind your own business, you rolling drink dispenser!" C-3PO huffed, before delivering a swift kick to Artoo's stout body with all the grace of an Ithorian with brittle bones. The protocol droid then left his old friend behind and turned towards the others.

"Good morning, Master Luke," he greeted as he tottered to the other side of the kitchen's bar. "And to you as well, Master Ben."

"Hey, Threepio," the boy smiled.

"Good morning," Luke said. "You're here early."

The droid looked up at him as though perplexed. "You asked me to come by as soon as I had finished."

"Yes, but I didn't mean that litera—never mind." The Jedi Master waved his hand to dismiss the issue as he remembered who he was talking to. He was fortunate the protocol droid had not completed his task earlier and burst into their quarters while Luke was still sleeping. "What do you have for me?"

"The next thirty-eight pages translated, as you asked, sir," See-Threepio declared, setting the large book and datapad down on the counter in front of him.

"Did it give you any more trouble?"

"Oh, I'm afraid so, Master Luke. There are several languages used with which I am unfamiliar with, and the bizarre script certainly slows the process down, but in all honesty it's nice to be given something challenging every now and again. I'm proud to say my systems are still operating splendidly."

Luke took a sip of his vitajuice as his other hand reached out for the datapad, activated it and began to look over the droid's work. "How do you translate it when you don't know the language?"

"It's really quite fascinating," the protocol droid replied, clearly pleased that Luke was taking an interest in his programming. "Though I am not familiar with the languages themselves, many of them share common words, traits, or patterns with those I am well-versed in. Once I've identified these similarities, it doesn't take me very long to decode the rest—I am fluent in more than six-million forms of communication, if you weren't aware."

"Yeah, you've mentioned that once or twice before."

Ben laughed and had to cover his mouth to keep from spraying a swallow of vitajuice in all directions.

"It's a welcome change from my usual routine," C-3PO went on. "I only wish the text wasn't so... disturbing."

The text Threepio was referring to was the journal of Darth Malig—the Dark Lord of the Sith. Luke had spent several days with the Sith Lord on Apollyon as his prisoner and had even slept at Malig's simple home in the mountains that overlooked the Raithians' capital city. It had been a frightening and surreal experience, one that had challenged his own direction in the Force both because of the temptations of the dark side nexus that the world resided in and because of the contradictions that were inherent in Malig's existence.

He was a Sith who had no interest in wealth or ruling over others, contenting himself to live in a decrepit old shack isolated from the rest of society while making subtle manipulations to the Raithians' Council of Lords to influence the overall direction of their empire. His interest instead seemed to lie in the Force, an energy that the Dark Lord believed had been caged somehow by the Jedi and needed to be freed. Malig saw himself as a sort of liberator whose destiny was to restore some long lost natural order.

It was so different from the Sith Luke had known that the Jedi Master found it difficult to believe Malig and Sidious could be part of the same order.

But what was hardest to reconcile for Luke was Malig's power. Healing was intrinsically good, a power that came from the Light of the Force, and healers were perhaps the noblest beings of all. To heal, to give life... these were things Luke Skywalker knew in his heart were pure. And Malig, a Sith Lord, could heal in ways Luke had never seen before. He even claimed to be able to save people from death—a claim Luke had assumed was a lie until he watched in horror as Malig healed himself after what should have been a fatal wound the Jedi Master had dealt when plunging a lightsaber into the Sith's abdomen.

Darth Malig's gift seemed to shatter everything Luke had ever believed about the Sith.

Could something that preserved life really be evil?

For reasons Luke was still unsure of, Malig had not had him killed in their days on Apollyon, and instead seemed to want to explain his philosophy and convince the Jedi Master of the righteousness of his goals. At first, Luke had disregarded these discussions as overtures meant to lure him into the darkness, the way Palpatine and Vader had tried when he was a much younger man, but over time, he began to see Malig's appeals as something else.

The Dark Lord seemed to feel some bizarre sense of kinship with Luke. He had told the Jedi that his master had been a Sith named Darth Plagueis, whom Malig claimed was responsible for creating Anakin Skywalker with the Force—another claim Luke had dismissed until witnessing Malig's gift for healing and coming to the frightening conclusion that it might be true. Malig had also detailed that he was a rival of Darth Sidious and was grateful to Luke and Darth Vader for killing him.

But neither of these connections really explained why Malig had spared Luke's life or why he seemed to wish for Luke's understanding.

It was almost as if Malig was... lonely.

He'd shocked the Jedi further when he'd shown him a holocron that had been made by Vergere—the rogue Jedi who had joined the Yuuzhan Vong War and ultimately helped Jacen and the Alliance in her own way against the invaders. With it, Luke had learned that Vergere and Malig had known each other for a time and seemed to have been engaged in some mutually beneficial training in the Force before she'd been swept away by the Vong. A stored holovid in the device showed Malig instructing her to save the life of a woman named "Jade" he had seen in a vision, then, displaying a skill Luke had never seen nor heard of before, the Sith Lord cut his finger on a sheet of paper and let the blood run down the page—the image that resulted was an undeniable depiction of Luke's wife. Vergere would go on to fulfill the request years later by curing the coomb spore disease Mara had been infected with by the Yuuzhan Vong agent Nom Anor. But Malig's request had come years before Mara was even born...

The Sith had saved Mara's life, had made it possible for their son to be born, and Luke couldn't understand why.

Whatever the real reason was, Luke Skywalker's doubts about Malig were torched away in the grotesque massacre that punctuated his escape from Apollyon, when he saw the inverse of the Dark Lord's healing ability. He'd watched helplessly as an army of Chiss fell at his feet, dead from some disease that bled from Malig in the Force.

He knew then that everything else he'd seen had been a trick of some kind—that Malig was evil and had to be stopped, even if Luke didn't understand his true motivations.

In the end, Malig seemed to concede the same about Luke, as the Raithian forces with him actively tried to kill the Jedi Master for the first time, along with his niece Jaina who had previously fallen under the same strange umbrella of protection from the Raithians.

The journal had been kept in Malig's shack, and Luke had stolen it after stabbing the Dark Lord and fleeing from the hut, hoping to learn what it was he really wanted. It was more than two thousand oversized pages of yellowed paper so densely crammed with lines of a tightly packed, maddening scrawl that they were almost dizzying to look at. A variety of languages made up the entries, most of which Luke was completely unfamiliar with and he assumed originated in Raithian space or elsewhere in the Unknown Regions. At times, Malig would switch languages in a single entry, or even in mid-sentence, giving the already erratic inscriptions a schizophrenic quality that Luke found unsettling.

Perhaps even more troubling, like the Dark Lord's trick with Vergere, was that the pages appeared to be written in his own blood.

The content of the writings revealed little about Malig's history and more about his philosophy of the Force. Page after page decried the Jedi's misguided war against the dark side, which Malig viewed as the Force in its natural state. He lamented the Order's surrender of emotion, proclaiming that it amounted to the loss of their "humanity," that the Jedi ideal was a race of droids. The Force was one in Malig's eyes, and the turmoil that had consumed the galaxy a direct result of the Jedi's quest to sever it in two.

There were passing mentions of the Skywalkers and Solos and their importance—even one of Ben—but nothing of substance that gave Luke a clear idea of what it was the Sith wanted from them.

Luke scanned the latest translations on the datapad C-3PO had handed him. He often tried to follow along in the actual journal, hoping to learn the new languages himself for fear something important would be lost in the protocol droid's interpretation. His slow scroll through the entries stopped when he saw a word that seemed to jump off the glowing screen at him.

As I stood in the rubble with the mask in my hands, I had a vision of all that would come to pass. I saw a vessel there standing beside me, so strong in the Force it appeared as a blur of light. Its name was "Solo" and I knew that it was the key to everything.​

The color drained from Luke's reflection on the glossy screen and his mouth settled into a grim line that made him appear a hundred years older.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Ben asked. The boy's blue eyes were large and frowning and beaded with gleams of fear.

Luke put the datapad down and forced himself to smile as he looked at his son. "Nothing," he assured, patting Ben's head. "Everything's fine."




"Are you certain you want to do this?"

To anyone else, even most Jedi it seemed, the answer would have been "no," but she knew better. Tahiri Veila had gone down this path before and had seen all the horrible places it led, remembered how lost she had been, how lost she would still be if she hadn't had friends to pull her back from the abyss.

The question hung in the antiseptic-tinged air for her consideration, and she realized then that there would be no turning back—once it was done, it was done. And this gave her pause.

Her brows knitted in a deep frown.

Was she being selfish?

She almost asked the question out loud but stopped herself just as her pink lips parted. It didn't matter what the others thought—this was her decision to make. Tahiri had to be accountable to her own conscience first, had to do what she thought was right even if it meant surrendering what others believed so vital.

The young woman peered into the large blinking fisheye staring back at her in anticipation of her response. It protruded from the side of a bulbous, salmon-colored head with a mottled complexion, and a giant, frowning mouth curving above a beard of whiskery barbels that wobbled when it spoke like barnacles clinging to the bow of a seafaring vessel. The face's other eye was fixed on the bank of scanners and winking sensor lights that the being was seated in front of, her attention divided with a precision no human could muster.

"I'm sure," Tahiri said finally.

"You've considered the consequences?" Cilghal asked, the Mon Calamari's watery voice gurgling with concern.

"I have."

"And you still wish to proceed?"

Tahiri nodded this time with only a moment's hesitation. "I do."

Though the Jedi Master's features turned grim, she nodded back to Tahiri in acceptance of her choice and swiveled in her chair to the scanners arrayed around her. "This will take a few moments before we begin," Cilghal explained as her webbed fingers danced across the keypad in front of her. "Just try to make yourself as comfortable as possible... You're going to have to be awake for the beginning."

Tahiri took a deep breath and rested her head back against the slender pillow that crowned the medical pallet she was laid out upon. Above her sharp jade eyes was a maze of electrodes that dotted her elegant brow, secured to her skin by a conductive, adhesive gel. From each of the tiny white circles sprouted a thin wire that snaked off the side of her bunk in a twining wave and disappeared into the inputs of the sensor feeds Cilghal was overseeing.

A flexible polymer cap was strapped over her head embedded with dozens of electrodes and tangled braids of wires that flowed out from the scalp like the tentacles of a Yuuzhan Vong Shaper's headdress. She'd been relieved that she hadn't needed to shave her head again. Her honey blonde hair had grown back since her Sith imprisonment, but she was keeping it cut short, with curls spilling down just long enough that she occasionally had to sweep them away from her eyes and laid over her ears in feathery tufts.

More wires vanished inside the opening of her white medical robes, connecting to yet more electrodes on her chest to monitor her heart—there were even some on her hand and feet. Tahiri wiggled her toes and watched the bundles of white wire shake the entire tangle coursing to the Healer's monitors.

She felt more like some weird science experiment than a person—but she supposed that was true in a lot of ways.

Beyond her toes, hovering in the air in bands of shimmering light over a projection pod was a three-dimensional hologram of Tahiri's brain, colored in greens, blues, oranges, yellows, purples, and reds. The projection showed all her brain activity, lighting the parts of her brain that were being used along with the neural pathways by which each synapse traveled. She watched as the throbbing colors changed when she remembered being experimented on by the Yuuzhan Vong, then bled into new shades when she used her artificial hand to grip the bed railing, then the chemistry changed again when she felt a wave of apprehension.

It was as naked as a person could be.

"You are a foolish girl."

The voice was not the fluid-filled tones of Cilghal, but the rasping metallic voice of the infirmary's only other patient that day—a Raithian bounty hunter named Aero Gin—or rather, what was left of her.

Aero Gin was more machine than woman, having been damaged and rebuilt by a string of unscrupulous employers more times than she could have remembered even if her own mind hadn't been altered. Her entire lower half was as cybernetic as C-3PO's, her legs dangling over the side of the bunk nearest Tahiri's still lacking their synth-flesh covering, exposing the whirring servomotors, pistoning electrodrivers, delicate articulation pins, gunmetal housings, electrostatic sensors for feeling, bundles of alloy ligaments, and ringed nerve interface modules.

The woman's upper body had fared somewhat better, with a heart and handful of other internal organs remaining that were living tissue, but most of them required technological assistance to remain functional. The rest of her torso and arms were high-tech cybernetics, wrapped in a layer of artificial muscles and synthetic olive skin that had the bounce and feel of real flesh, so much so that it was indistinguishable by human senses.

Aero's face was perhaps the only real skin she had left, but her mouth and nose were covered in a black plastoid processing filter that facilitated her wheezing breath and allowed her to eat and drink. Above it were a pair of eyes like dark pools that had seen more pain and misery than even Tahiri's, and were forever jaded by it.

She had been beautiful once, Tahiri thought as she studied the woman's features and long mane of straight, silky black hair—but even that vision was tarnished when she shifted slightly, exposing cords of alloy tendons in the back of her neck and chrome shell where the base of her skull had been replaced.

"I'm sorry?" Tahiri questioned, her own eyes sharpening in a glare.

"You are foolish," Aero repeated. "To do this... to surrender an advantage over our enemy such as this... it is an unforgivable idiocy."

"Well, I guess I'd better rethink it if the blood-thirsty cyborg-killer says it's a bad idea." Tahiri rolled her eyes.

The bounty hunter's expression soured further. "More foolishness. You will be giving him back all his power, and putting the rest of us in danger."

"Maybe," Tahiri admitted, turning away from the cyborg and staring up at the ceiling. "But it's not a power I want—not one a Jedi could wield. If I did, I would be no better than him."

"That is the point, is it not?" Aero hissed. "I cannot imagine a fate more befitting. Don't you want vengeance for what he did to us?"

Tahiri's gaze fell back to the bounty hunter, this time welled with sympathy. If there was anyone who understood what Tahiri had been through, it was Aero Gin.

Aero's family had been the slaves of some small-scale crime lord in Raithian space. When she was still only a girl, her parents and sister were butchered by Sith forces, and Aero was similarly rent and left for dead—most likely, Tahiri imagined, because they were latent Force-sensitives.

The slave-owner found her alive, and sparked by new interest in her due to her Force-sensitivity, went to the trouble of saving her life with a series of complex procedures that were the beginnings of what she would become. Her master would go on to use her as his enforcer, having her collect from truant debtors and eliminating threats. In order to motivate her further, the slaver would implant false memories in Aero's fractured mind so that she believed her targets were also her enemies—often, the people who were responsible for the deaths of her family and her maiming. It was a trend that would continue for decades.

Eventually—by some unremembered means—Aero gained her freedom and began working as a freelance bounty hunter, becoming one of the most feared beings in Raithian Space even as her new employers continued to manipulate her like a marionette. Her reputation soon earned the attention of the Raithians themselves, and she began working for their empire and secret Sith leader Darth Malig through his proxy—a creature named Faybol.

He was a tall, spindly monster in a tattered red cloak, whose face, like his master's, was hidden behind an ancient Sith mask.

Faybol was Malig's Sith Hand and a Khur—a race of beings the Jedi knew next to nothing about. What they did know was that Faybol had lived more than twelve hundred years and his long-lived species was gifted with a brood of protectors that shared a single consciousness with him called the "Kurol." Because of his Force-sensitivity, and perhaps, because of his nature, Faybol possessed another unique ability—he could sense all Force-users across the galaxy.

This power made him the gravest threat of all to the Jedi as he led the Raithian hunting parties to find them, and was the reason the Order's secret base that Tahiri was now laying in was protected by ysalamiri.

Tahiri's own destiny had collided with Faybol on Dantooine, when the Khur and his Kurol had attempted to capture Anakin Solo for reasons she still didn't understand. In the course of the carnage, Tahiri killed one of Faybol's seven Kurol—an act for which Faybol would go on to seek revenge for in the cruelest way imaginable.

After Jacen led the Jedi rescue team into a trap on Denon, Tahiri was attacked by Faybol and Callista, and made to look as though she'd perished, ostensibly as a means of turning Anakin to the dark side. But then Faybol had absconded with her, taking her back to the Raithian homeworld of Apollyon, where he watched as a Sith Alchemist named Harrow attempted to mold her into one of Faybol's brood.

It was Faybol's idea of justice, she supposed— Tahiri would replace the Kurol she destroyed.

But the attempts to bring her into the shared consciousness controlled by Faybol backfired when whatever Harrow did to her brain actually allowed Tahiri to control them. Han and the others had rescued her from her imprisonment, but before they escaped the planet, Tahiri discovered this power, using it without really even meaning to, incapacitating Faybol and what remained of his brood in order to save Kyp Durron and Valin and Jysella Horn. It was as if their minds had been turned to mush in that moment, Faybol and his Kurol groping blindly in the mud like desperate newborns.

Tahiri could have killed them all—taken revenge for the six months of torture they'd put her through, the way she had Mezhan Kwaad when the Yuuzhan Vong attempted to shape her in a similar way...

But she didn't.

Tahiri realized if she used this power over Faybol to kill him, she would become him, and be sucked into a well of darkness she would never find her way out of.

She spared Faybol's life and fled Apollyon with the rest of the Jedi.

Now, she was going to have Cilghal undo the damage of Harrow's manipulations, and erase the power she'd inadvertently been given. Many in the Order, and in the Chiss/Remnant/Smuggler alliance believed she was making a huge mistake. With this power, Tahiri could block Faybol's ability to sense them through the Force, could make it so they no longer had to hide surrounded by ysalamiri and surrender their own use of the Force.

But if she did that, used her power over Faybol's mind in such a way, how would it be any different from what Faybol did to her, or even Aero?

This went beyond a simple Jedi mind-trick. It was evil.

And Tahiri couldn't give into that without losing herself forever.

"He destroyed our minds," Aero pressed, pointing at her own temple. "You should destroy his—that is balance. That is justice."

Tahiri shook her head. "That's revenge."

"There is no difference."

"There's a galaxy of difference. Vengeance is not the Way of the Jedi."

Aero scoffed. "Even many of your Jedi comrades disagree. I heard what Durron said to you before he left. He believes this is craziness."

Tahiri's brow flattened at the bounty hunter's persistence. Kyp had made it clear he thought Tahiri's plan to reverse Harrow's handiwork was a mistake, but he hadn't pressed the issue hard, no doubt remembering that he owed Tahiri his life.

"I know what I'm doing," Tahiri replied.

The bounty hunter hissed in disgust again. "Stupid girl," she said, before leaning back in her bunk in defeat.

"We're ready to begin," announced the tiny voice of the infirmary's only other occupant—Tekli. The little Chadra-Fan healer left the scanners she'd been monitoring and marched to where Cilghal was seated.

"Good," her Mon Calamari counterpart said. "You may administer the sedative now."

"What?" Tahiri questioned, sitting up as Tekli retrieved a large syringe and small bottle of foggy liquid. "I thought you said I had to be awake for the first part of this?"

"You do, but I also told you you had to relax," Cilghal explained. "So I thought it best to begin without telling you."

"Oh," Tahiri said. "That's pretty sly for you. And here I thought the headache I was getting was from Robo-Sith over here."

"Just try and relax," Cilghal encouraged as Tekli climbed atop a short stool so that she could reach their patient. She slipped the cold needle into her arm with a little pinch of pain that Tahiri barely noticed—her experience with the Yuuzhan Vong had taught her to devour agony the way Hutts devoured everything else.

The contents of the syringe were slowly pushed into her veins, and then Tekli placed a clear face mask over her nose and mouth. Tahiri tasted something bitter and realized it was the anesthetic.

"Take deep breaths," Tekli instructed. Tahiri did and the mask fogged when she exhaled. "Good, good. Now, just try and think of something pleasant and you'll soon be asleep."

Tahiri tried to do that too, but she thought of Anakin instead.

She winced, and then that pain she couldn't ignore was vanquished by a wave of white that swallowed her whole.




When Tahiri awoke some time later, it was to drag her eyelids apart lazily and stare at the bright blur of the overhead glowpanel banks in a clean white room. She was groggy and confused and she felt as though her head had been at the center of a thermal detonator quality control test. The Jedi reached up to tear away the electrodes only to find them already gone. She clutched at her brow and winced against the light instead, but became aware of something warm and wet above her upper lip. When she passed her hand over it and then drew it away, she saw her fingers smeared in red.

Blood.

Her nose was bleeding.

"How are you feeling?"

Tahiri was surprised not to hear Cilghal's roughly purling voice. Instead, this one was warm and even and human.

She turned her head from the infirmary's lights only to find Luke Skywalker perched upon a stool beside her medical pallet, smiling down at her. He was the only one in the room.

"Where's Cilghal?"

The words came out in a dry rasp, igniting a fit of coughing that felt like Tahiri had swallowed a mouthful of hot coals, and the Jedi Master handed her a mug of water.

"She left to get some rest—so did Tekli," Luke explained. "Cilghal thinks the procedure was a success—at least as far as she can perceive without the Force. I told her I could watch you."

"Oh, thanks." Tahiri took a few sips of water and then sat up fully, relieved to be free of the unwieldy tangle of wires that had seemed so cumbersome when she had fallen out of consciousness. A wave of disorientation hit her when she was fully up right, as though her brain was rolling and bobbing around inside her skull.

She winced again and reached for her head.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked again.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine," she replied, realizing then that she was.

"Are you in pain?"

"Not really, no, just a little woozy," Tahiri explained.

"Cilghal said you would be."

"I really can't complain," she laughed, gesturing to her head. "No scars this time."

Luke snorted and smiled faintly. The three vertical scars the Yuuzhan Vong had carved into Tahiri's forehead when she was fourteen were still visible in white lines that grew more defined whenever her brow furrowed.

"No, but it looks like you have a few red suction marks from the electrodes."

"Oh great," Tahiri grumbled, reaching up to scrub at her forehead. "Does it look like a mynock was sucking on my face?"

Luke laughed. "I don't understand how Cilghal managed without surgery or the Force—she said she used a Yuuzhan Vong technique?"

"A vaa-tumor," Tahiri nodded. "Or, a modified vaa-tumor. We've been cultivating it for a few days in the lab, engineering it to suit our purposes. The tumor alters the brain of a Yuuzhan Vong shaper—we made it so it would change mine in the right way. That's what the nose bleed is from." The young woman reached for a tissue and wiped her nose.

"A vaa-tumor," Luke mused. "Do you think it will have any side effects?"

Tahiri laughed. "I sure hope not—other than not being able to control gangly Sith assassins and their dwarfish puppets."

The Jedi Master smiled weakly. "Regardless of what anyone else thinks, I believe you made the right choice, Tahiri, and a very courageous one at that. I'm very proud of you."

Tahiri felt like blushing or crying or a combination of the two, but managed to simply nod and grin wryly beneath the Jedi leader's praise. "Thanks. I'll try to remember that when Faybol kills us all."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"You're the master of the understatement, Master Skywalker," Tahiri said, swinging her legs around so they dangled over the side of her bunk. "Or the Jedi Master of the understatement."

"Well, you didn't lose your sense of humor—that's a good sign." Luke eyed her critically. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting up." Tahiri lifted herself off the edge of her bunk and dropped to her feet. "I'm tired of laying."

"Be careful," Luke caution, rising immediately as though to catch her from falling. "Cilghal warned me your equilibrium might be a little off for awhile."

A wave of dizziness hit Tahiri and she stuck her arms out to help keep her balance. "No kidding."

When she felt a little more surefooted, Tahiri experimented with a few tentative steps, and then began to walk across the room, enjoying the feel of the cool metal plates against her bare feet. The Jedi Master followed her closely, as though he expected her to fall on her backside at any moment.

"So what gives, Master Skywalker?" Tahiri asked finally, retrieving her mug and taking a large gulp of water before setting it back down and scrutinizing the aging hero. "I mean, why are you here? I know it's because someone needed to watch me, but let's be honest, anyone could have done that. I don't think the leader of the Jedi Order has the free time to be my personal nurse."

Luke smiled. "You're right, there was another reason I came to see you."

"Well? Out with it. You know I hate to be the only one talking."

"I have a task for you." Anakin's uncle turned, folding his hands in the bulky sleeves of his brown cloak as he began to pace around the infirmary. "A mission really."

"A mission? Are you serious?"

"Very much so."

The young woman's green eyes sharpened as she studied Master Skywalker for some hint of a smile, some clue that this was a joke. It didn't quite seem believable after all she'd been through.

"Why me?" She questioned. "I just got done with some weird, experimental un-Fayboling. Why not send another Jedi? I'm sure there's someone else sitting around on their hands just itching to play hero."

"I'm asking you because I want you to do it," Luke said, turning to face her and putting a little steel into his voice. "You've been out of commission for months now, Tahiri. It's time to get your feet wet again."

Tahiri opened her mouth to respond but her lips slowly found their way together again. She hadn't done much since returning from Apollyon and she was beginning to feel more than a little cooped up inside the space station. "Okay, if you think it's important. What's the mission?"

"I need you to go to Dathomir," he explained. "I sent Jaina there with a team to investigate some Raithian fleet movements in the area and I never heard back from her."

"Dathomir?"

Luke nodded. "The information came from a reliable source."

"So I just go to Dathomir and look for Jaina? By myself?"

"That's right. I want you to go."

Tahiri placed her hands on her hips as her head tilted slightly and her eyes narrowed again to study the Jedi again. "There's something you're not telling me."

"You're paranoid, Tahiri," Luke said, stepping forward to pat her on the shoulder before he headed for the open hatchway. "Don't be ridiculous."

Her gaze lingered on his back as he shrank towards the exit, trying to see through him. "Fine, keep your secrets, old man. I don't care."

With his back turned to her, Luke smiled to himself, and then slipped out of the infirmary.

 

First!

Haha, I even beat Maggy.

 

aww happy family time
and Luke is trying to match make?

 

Third!Darn it! So close! If Tahiri thinks Luke's hiding something, he's probably hiding something. I can't believe I got third!

 

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but great final fic so far! I loved the scenes with Luke and his family, especially in their cotnrast to the soul-numbingly awful Apollyon. I'm hoping we'll get to see more of Malig's journal, too- I imagine there's a lot of interesting things in there, though I doubt he'd put his full plans down in writing even for himself. Glad to see Tahiri again, and I think it's good that she's having what Faybol and Harrow did to her reversed, though I do wonder if the vaa-tumer is going to have some other effect or not. I'm also curious as to what Luke's not telling her...

Again, great job! Keep it up!