Before the Saga Schism--Complete

Super duper action! Whew! Love the analogy there of sucking marrow out of bones But I think Gervais is definitely seeing Hilaal's true gifts

 

I hope they will succeed outnumbered as they are

 

Woooow. The little Jedi who could, eh? She's in the lead all right. I'm sure that she will succeed, but at what cost?

 

I've already read one chapter!!!

 

Oh my goodness, I've totally been so busy I hadn't even thought about this. I'm so sorry, I'm a horrible author.

But I very much appreciate your reading! Now, where'd I leave the rest of the story.... Ah, here it is.

She nodded, acknowledging the Force’s suggestion that she was doing the right thing, despite the wrongness of leaving her comrades in a tricky situation. With a waving gesture, she gathered Antho behind her. Much to her surprise, her back didn’t hit the door behind her.

Even more surprising was the number of dark Jedi who waited for them inside the large circular chambers. Just as her body cleared the doorway, she awkwardly dodged a lightsaber swing that would have removed her head from her shoulders. She countered with both blades. The first one batted the defensive strike aside, allowing the second to remove the Sith’s arm. A final swing finished that one off.

As she and Antho regained complete control of their feet, they began dancing together, as they had practiced on Dantooine. The Force filled them completely, and an unexpected mental link formed unwittingly between the two young Jedi. Having that connection surge, a brief foreknowledge of what was to come grew between them. So armed, Hilaal and Antho exploded into action. Side-by-side, they launched attacks that the enemies were forced to block, then the two Jedi would suddenly switch targets, allowing the other to inflict a surprise killing blow the Sith hadn’t seen coming. Hilaal would duck while Antho would leap over her, creating a vortex of death that sucked in several lives, only to disperse and begin again in another part of the room as they leapt clear of one pocket of Sith and into another.

With the sheer numerical advantage of the enemy, the Jedi being able to escape unharmed was an impossibility. Both Jedi took wounds. Antho took a thankfully shallow slash over one brow that missed his eye by millimeters. Another strike put a deep furrow into his leg, coming heart-stoppingly close to the major artery there. Hilaal lost a fair-sized chunk of her left triceps that was painful and slowly robbing her of strength, though fortunately the enemy’s lightsaber had cauterized the wound. She was fighting the pain of a pierced thigh as a Sith managed to stab his weapon clear through her leg. Despite the pain, though, she was completely focused, and she let the Force take the worst of the agony away. Both of their robes and tunics were nearly shredded from near misses and dozens of other shallow burns that just barely penetrated flesh.

Hilaal ducked as a crimson blade zipped over her head. Antho’s purple blade sliced that warrior completely in two, but she had to slide over and jab the ankle of a Sith who was sneaking up on Antho. The surge of pain stopped the Sith’s attack on Antho for only a second, but that was all the time she needed. Hilaal stood, heaving directly upwards with all the strength she could wrench out of her muscles and the Force. That warrior was cleaved in two as well, from crotch to skull.

Meanwhile, Antho had intercepted a blow that had been meant for Hilaal’s back. With a Force Empowered snap-kick, he sent that warrior into the blade of the Sith behind him. Finding his blade entangled with the body of his fellow, he was unable to bring his weapon around to block Antho’s blow. With deceptive ease, he used his lightsaber to burn a hole between the beady red eyes.

Moments later, the battle was over. Hilaal and Antho shared a look of relief, despite only having a millisecond to themselves to think about how close they had come to being destroyed. With an entire room full of smoking, ruined bodies, Hilaal’s conscience threatened to surface, but another spurt of adrenalin raced through her nervous system as she heard the sound of a single pair of hands clapping with mocking slowness.

“Very impressive,” Davip said blandly from his position at the far end of the council chambers. He was seated in the center-most chair, though with the general design of the gigantic gaudy thing, Hilaal decided it was supposed to be called a throne. Davip’s long white hair was tied back into a neat tail, his lightsaber rested in his lap, in close reach of his black-gloved hands. “You managed to battle your way through mediocre warriors. Congratulations.”

Antho limped over to stand next to Hilaal. “That really wasn’t too difficult,” he teased. “I assume you’ve got more peons around here to try and stop us?”

A wicked grin crossed Davip’s features. “No. Not for you. My best warriors are on their way to deal with the friends you left behind to guard your rear. I assure you, those Jedi won’t survive the encounter any more than you’ll survive a duel against me.”

“Didn’t I almost beat you?” Hilaal asked.

That caused an emotional surge that sent the man leaping to his feet and grabbing his lightsaber in a one handed grip. “No, you did not!”

“You must have hit close to the mark to get him all riled up like that,” Antho teased. “I understand your embarrassment though, getting your butt kicked by a little girl.”

“Hey,” Hilaal objected.

Antho glanced over at her and saw her hurt expression. “Er, sorry.”

Davip, meanwhile, had turned a brilliant shade of crimson that matched the lightsaber blade as it hissed to life. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

Antho feigned disappointment. “No chance of taking you quietly, then?”

The man’s response was an ear-piercing howl as he leapt towards the two of them. Antho jumped hard, flying backwards across the room, his robes being torn once again with the accuracy of Davip’s blade. Another painful, smoking furrow melted his flesh, though the wound was no more serious than any of the others he had received.

Hilaal had ducked, just missing being impaled by that strike, and retaliated with an offensive flurry that used every ounce of strength and skill she had. Davip’s counters were so accurate that he still had enough time to threaten Antho with strikes that kept the young man at bay and out of the main combat.

Even as Hilaal pressed the attack, Antho was forced to stay out of the way, as both duelers’ blades were moving so quickly that he could just barely make out who was striking.

Rancor’s charge was countered by sand puma’s feint, which was immediately shifted to hawkbat’s flight and the kinrath’s thrust. Hilaal ducked away, barely avoiding the tremendous volley of a Sith technique whose name she did not know. Able to turn aside those blows only by the surprisingly effective combination of cooling waterfall and wind bends the reeds, she countered, stepping in close with a pair of kicks. He dodged the first, but the second kick landed and should have sent him flying back half a dozen meters. Instead, he somehow shifted his body to absorb the the attack and struck at her leg with his lightsaber. Able to deflect the worst of the blow, she still lost a medium-sized portion of her calf. Hilaal staggered back, crying out in pain. Between the hole in her left leg and the newest wound on her right, her legs weren’t very stable anymore. Both of them wobbled with agony-filled effort as she tried to remain standing. For a pair of seconds, she was unable to recover her focus. Davip should have finished her off, except that Antho had leapt in and intercepted the blow meant to decapitate her.


Hating herself for it, Hilaal stood back and tried to get her body’s blinding pain and heavy breathing under control. She watched for several moments before realizing that Davip was toying with Antho. In his arrogance, the Sith thought he could finish off the young man off at will. He probably thought that she was out of the melee as well, but that was an impression she was quick to change.She nodded, acknowledging the Force’s suggestion that she was doing the right thing, despite the wrongness of leaving her comrades in a tricky situation. With a waving gesture, she gathered Antho behind her. Much to her surprise, her back didn’t hit the door behind her.

Even more surprising was the number of dark Jedi who waited for them inside the large circular chambers. Just as her body cleared the doorway, she awkwardly dodged a lightsaber swing that would have removed her head from her shoulders. She countered with both blades. The first one batted the defensive strike aside, allowing the second to remove the Sith’s arm. A final swing finished that one off.

As she and Antho regained complete control of their feet, they began dancing together, as they had practiced on Dantooine. The Force filled them completely, and an unexpected mental link formed unwittingly between the two young Jedi. Having that connection surge, a brief foreknowledge of what was to come grew between them. So armed, Hilaal and Antho exploded into action. Side-by-side, they launched attacks that the enemies were forced to block, then the two Jedi would suddenly switch targets, allowing the other to inflict a surprise killing blow the Sith hadn’t seen coming. Hilaal would duck while Antho would leap over her, creating a vortex of death that sucked in several lives, only to disperse and begin again in another part of the room as they leapt clear of one pocket of Sith and into another.

With the sheer numerical advantage of the enemy, the Jedi being able to escape unharmed was an impossibility. Both Jedi took wounds. Antho took a thankfully shallow slash over one brow that missed his eye by millimeters. Another strike put a deep furrow into his leg, coming heart-stoppingly close to the major artery there. Hilaal lost a fair-sized chunk of her left triceps that was painful and slowly robbing her of strength, though fortunately the enemy’s lightsaber had cauterized the wound. She was fighting the pain of a pierced thigh as a Sith managed to stab his weapon clear through her leg. Despite the pain, though, she was completely focused, and she let the Force take the worst of the agony away. Both of their robes and tunics were nearly shredded from near misses and dozens of other shallow burns that just barely penetrated flesh.

Hilaal ducked as a crimson blade zipped over her head. Antho’s purple blade sliced that warrior completely in two, but she had to slide over and jab the ankle of a Sith who was sneaking up on Antho. The surge of pain stopped the Sith’s attack on Antho for only a second, but that was all the time she needed. Hilaal stood, heaving directly upwards with all the strength she could wrench out of her muscles and the Force. That warrior was cleaved in two as well, from crotch to skull.

Meanwhile, Antho had intercepted a blow that had been meant for Hilaal’s back. With a Force Empowered snap-kick, he sent that warrior into the blade of the Sith behind him. Finding his blade entangled with the body of his fellow, he was unable to bring his weapon around to block Antho’s blow. With deceptive ease, he used his lightsaber to burn a hole between the beady red eyes.

Moments later, the battle was over. Hilaal and Antho shared a look of relief, despite only having a millisecond to themselves to think about how close they had come to being destroyed. With an entire room full of smoking, ruined bodies, Hilaal’s conscience threatened to surface, but another spurt of adrenalin raced through her nervous system as she heard the sound of a single pair of hands clapping with mocking slowness.

“Very impressive,” Davip said blandly from his position at the far end of the council chambers. He was seated in the center-most chair, though with the general design of the gigantic gaudy thing, Hilaal decided it was supposed to be called a throne. Davip’s long white hair was tied back into a neat tail, his lightsaber rested in his lap, in close reach of his black-gloved hands. “You managed to battle your way through mediocre warriors. Congratulations.”

Antho limped over to stand next to Hilaal. “That really wasn’t too difficult,” he teased. “I assume you’ve got more peons around here to try and stop us?”

A wicked grin crossed Davip’s features. “No. Not for you. My best warriors are on their way to deal with the friends you left behind to guard your rear. I assure you, those Jedi won’t survive the encounter any more than you’ll survive a duel against me.”

“Didn’t I almost beat you?” Hilaal asked.

That caused an emotional surge that sent the man leaping to his feet and grabbing his lightsaber in a one handed grip. “No, you did not!”

“You must have hit close to the mark to get him all riled up like that,” Antho teased. “I understand your embarrassment though, getting your butt kicked by a little girl.”

“Hey,” Hilaal objected.

Antho glanced over at her and saw her hurt expression. “Er, sorry.”

Davip, meanwhile, had turned a brilliant shade of crimson that matched the lightsaber blade as it hissed to life. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

Antho feigned disappointment. “No chance of taking you quietly, then?”

The man’s response was an ear-piercing howl as he leapt towards the two of them. Antho jumped hard, flying backwards across the room, his robes being torn once again with the accuracy of Davip’s blade. Another painful, smoking furrow melted his flesh, though the wound was no more serious than any of the others he had received.

Hilaal had ducked, just missing being impaled by that strike, and retaliated with an offensive flurry that used every ounce of strength and skill she had. Davip’s counters were so accurate that he still had enough time to threaten Antho with strikes that kept the young man at bay and out of the main combat.

Even as Hilaal pressed the attack, Antho was forced to stay out of the way, as both duelers’ blades were moving so quickly that he could just barely make out who was striking.

Rancor’s charge was countered by sand puma’s feint, which was immediately shifted to hawkbat’s flight and the kinrath’s thrust. Hilaal ducked away, barely avoiding the tremendous volley of a Sith technique whose name she did not know. Able to turn aside those blows only by the surprisingly effective combination of cooling waterfall and wind bends the reeds, she countered, stepping in close with a pair of kicks. He dodged the first, but the second kick landed and should have sent him flying back half a dozen meters. Instead, he somehow shifted his body to absorb the the attack and struck at her leg with his lightsaber. Able to deflect the worst of the blow, she still lost a medium-sized portion of her calf. Hilaal staggered back, crying out in pain. Between the hole in her left leg and the newest wound on her right, her legs weren’t very stable anymore. Both of them wobbled with agony-filled effort as she tried to remain standing. For a pair of seconds, she was unable to recover her focus. Davip should have finished her off, except that Antho had leapt in and intercepted the blow meant to decapitate her.

Hating herself for it, Hilaal stood back and tried to get her body’s blinding pain and heavy breathing under control. She watched for several moments before realizing that Davip was toying with Antho. In his arrogance, the Sith thought he could finish off the young man off at will. He probably thought that she was out of the melee as well, but that was an impression she was quick to change.

 

exciting action. I hope Hilaal and Antho will survive

 

Breathtakingly riveting competence and teamwork but you have to worry the sheer quantity of injuries will take their toll Of course there is always the Sithly perpetual pitfall - Davip may be overconfident and that would be an opportunity for his opponents.

 

Thank you! We're coming down the home stretch!

He probably thought that she was out of the melee as well, but that was an impression she was quick to change.

With steps that belied her injuries, she joined the fray again. Davip batted her attacks aside and pressed his advantage. Unable to make her feet return to a firm stance, she crumpled under his mighty onslaught. When his first strike struck the metal tip of her trophy lightsaber, the warm viridian light winked out like a spent glowbulb. His second strike would have taken her arm off at the elbow, but Antho crashed into Davip and sent his aim awry. Instead of her arm, his blade pierced the flesh underneath her left collarbone, driving all the way through it and into the marble flooring. More quickly than she believed possible, he whirled on Antho. Despite all his strength coming to bare, the young Jedi wasn’t able to block the strike fully, changing the attacking angle from being at ribcage level to striking just under one of his knees. With an agonizing cry, Antho fell backwards, just missing the return stroke that would have killed him.

That was when Hilaal’s right arm seemed to move of its own accord, taking off Davip’s entire right leg. As the Sith fell, he twisted his body in order to bring his lightsaber down on Hilaal, but she had rolled away, and then rolled immediately back, cleaving the Sith Master in two mid-bounce. Utter surprise died on his face as the rest of him joined the Force.

It only seemed to hurt a little to crawl over to Antho’s prone form, despite all her limbs’ injuries.

“Are you all right?”

The Sith’s lightsaber strike didn’t cauterize like it should have, for Antho was bleeding profusely.

“My leg…” he said through clenched teeth, letting a gasp of pain escape his lips.

That was when the first explosion rocked the temple, sending Hilaal sprawling into Antho, causing more pain-filled cries sputtering out of both of them. Before they could try to rise, another shudder sent stonework fragments crumbling from the ceiling.

“The temple is self-destructing!” she said, finally figuring out what was happening. “We have to get out of here.” Hilaal managed to shove herself to her feet, her balance almost too shaky to bend over. Still, she reached out with both her hands and tried to force Antho up too.

A sudden green light caused Hilaal to jerk towards the only exit, where a lightsaber was slowly carving its way through a circle in the thick metal. She bent back down to help Antho stand, but he tried to wave her off.

His voice sounded serene in the choice of her life over his. “Go without me, there’s no way you’ll make it dragging me behind you.” He apparently didn’t see the hypocrisy of tying a tourniquet around the stump of his lower leg while proclaiming his own doom.

“Don’t try to pull that Jedi poodoo on me, Padawan.” Though it hurt like fire, she clutched his hand in both of hers and heaved. “I’m not leaving without you, so if you don’t help me, we’ll both get pasted here.”

He shoved her hands away. “Get out of here!” he shouted. “Your life means more to me than mine does.”

Hilaal glanced to her right, seeing the molten circle nearly complete as the green blade drew close to the entry hole. She was already hurting insanely just thinking about trying to run through the corridors of the Tythonian Temple. Having to do so with Antho over her shoulders might well be the end of her, but she still had to try.

“You idiot!” she screamed at him, emotions bubbling through, despite her best intentions to keep them under control. “I love you, and you’re coming with me. If you’re not going to use your good leg in our escape, I’m going to chop it off so you weigh less!

He looked at her like she had grown an extra head before he laughed. “You’re crazy!”

There was a loud crash as the solid door plug landed roughly on the floor. Jyruk quickly stepped through the hole and glanced around, his lightsaber shifting into a guard position. Bulging eyes took in the dozens of bodies, his eyes roaming the room to the one-legged form of the dead Sith Lord before glancing at the two sprawled humans. Very thin trickles of blood oozed from the Rodian’s small wounds, but he seemed none the worse for wear.

“Are you two all right?” he asked, noticing the carnage of bodies lying about them.

Hilaal bit her tongue, barely restraining from screaming. Instead, she thought the words to herself. Do we look all right? “No,” she answered, trying to keep the acid out of her voice. “Where are Gervais and Bennelag?”

He shook his head sadly. “They didn’t make it.”

Hilaal was too emotionally drained to give anything but a regretful nod. “Antho’s wounded,” was all she could think to say.

The Rodian gestured with his lightsaber at her legs. “So are you, in case you haven’t noticed.” She looked back at him, nonplussed. Hilaal had forgotten how serious her own injuries were, though the pain was foremost on her mind. When she glanced down to see the hole through her thigh, she collapsed to the floor, as if by noticing the damage, her limb stopped working altogether.

“Damn,” she said, more irritated than angry or sad. “You better get out of here without us, while you still can.”

A third explosion went off, this one close enough to send sparks throughout the entire building. A small cave in sent debris down into the hallway. Whoever had constructed the temple had done a good job with the wiring though, for the lights never even flickered.

Jyruk ran over and poked his head through the hole he had made. “Looks like we’re going to need another way out,” he said, noting the falling debris had continued, blocking that path off completely.

Being as there was only one way in, a secret exit didn’t seem very likely. Hilaal dropped her head backwards to stare at the ceiling. That’s when the idea hit her.

“Make a hole up there.”

The Rodian’s eyes brightened. “Good idea. Antho, help me.”

With as much concentration as they could muster through another floor-quaking explosion, a small part of the ceiling shot upwards, leaving a hole into the darkness of night.

“Ladies first,” Jyruk said, gathering her with the Force and smoothly lifting her towards the opening. There was another shudder as a distant part of the temple collapsed completely. Once she was able to, she reached up and heaved herself through the opening with her own aching muscles, sending a surge of pain through her entire left shoulder. She did her best to grit her teeth and ignore it, rolling awkwardly out of the hole’s way so someone else could leave.

Quickly she activated the transponder on her comlink, signaling for her pilot to get her. Hopefully the ship would make it before their ceiling collapsed.

Antho floated through the aperture, his stump still leaking slightly. Hilaal helped drag him away, so the Rodian could get through.

Suddenly a swift blur, Jyruk leapt through the hole, coming to rest neatly next to them. His eyes seemed already adjusted to the darkness of night, for he was scanning the top of the temple.

“Looks like this is about the only place not falling apart yet.”

“I activated the beacon. Help should be on its way.”


The Rodian smiled suddenly. “Help is here.” As yet another explosion rocked the entire temple, Jyruk grabbed a hold of both Antho and Hilaal with the Force and heaved them towards the lowered boarding ramp. Due to his haste, the flight wasn’t graceful and Hilaal found herself smashing face first into something just on the other end of the ramp that knocked her completely senseless.

 

Yes they escape.
And Hilaal in love?

 

Peri you're amazing! The action, the declarations. Bravo on mixing this all together so seamlessly and making Hilaal more terrific with each post but never a Mary Sue.

 

Oh my goodness. I can't believe it's been 2 weeks since my last post. I apologize. But I'm done stringing you along, as of today. This is the final chapter in the story.

I hope you've enjoyed reading it, even if I spazzed out over the last couple months. So...thank you for reading!

Hilaal awoke in a hospital an indeterminate amount of time later. Despite all the bacta bandages, she still hurt all over, like she had been buried underneath all the rubble and used as a dribble-ball on the way out.

“Good morning, Sleepyhead,” Pelt told her warmly, smoothing her hair back comfortingly.

She let out a little groan as memories of her ordeal flashed quickly through her surprisingly lucid mind. “That was not a pleasant experience.” Her arms stiffened and she fought to sit up. Wonder of wonders, Pelt didn’t try to restrain her. “Where’s Antho? And Jyruk?”

“Both are fine,” he reassured her. “They’re both out of the hospital already, though Antho’s going to clank when he walks.”

She nodded, remembering. “As if we couldn’t already hear him coming.”

Pelt chuckled softly. “Juryk has given his report for you. Based on what he saw, he was relatively sure you wouldn’t need to give one of your own.”

“The mess would probably be pretty self-explanatory,” she admitted. “Antho and I killed Davip. And however many Sith there were in that room. I didn’t really have time to stop and count.”

“It’s fine, Hilaal.” The concern in his voice was so thick she could have buttered toast with it. “How are you? Are you all right?”

“Mentally, I’m…I’m not great. I know those Sith needed to be destroyed, but I think my training is finally catching up to me.” There was a horrible feeling beginning to eat its way through her insides, a deferred payment finally catching up to her in force. Knowing she had taken lives—what the Jedi were supposed to hold most dear, made her feel like throwing up. The suddenly relived memories of each sentient’s eyes just before her blade crashed into them made her wince. A single tear trickled down her cheek. “I killed, Master. I…I killed…” The tear became a torrent, a flood. Uncontrolled sobs wracked her body and she pressed her face into Pelt’s chest to cry.

“There, there, Young one. You did what you had to do. Shhh.” He said little else, just held her for the hours it took to cry herself asleep.



During brief periods of alertness over the night, Hilaal came to a tough decision. According to the Force, her talent was bringing death—killing. But she had enough of that for an entire lifetime. Knowing how much it was going to hurt to be in the Jedi Temple again, and that nobody would be able to think about her without knowing how many lives she had ripped away, she decided perhaps it would be better to be away from the Jedi. At least for a while, though she didn’t foresee herself coming back any time soon.

The torture her mind enforced upon her as it automatically replayed the horror of her battles was so intense it didn’t leave room for much else. The only thing not relating to death that she seemed able to think about was her family. While the Jedi as a group partially counted as that family, she had a few people more specifically in mind. Antho and Pelt were near the top of that list, but it surprised her to realize that the people at the very top of her importance list right now were her parents.

Despite knowing them hardly at all, she knew that they would be able to look past the deeds she had done and accept her as a daughter again. The thought was both refreshing and frightening. It was the excitement of the unknown relationships that drew her to that conclusion, coupled with the disappointment and shattered spirit brought on by the past months.

“That face do I understand,” Yoda said supportively, appearing out of nowhere as she stared up at the sterile metal ceiling above her hospital bed. “Fault your logic, I cannot.”

She sat up, completely puzzled. “But…Master, I haven’t said anything.”

A gentle hand reached up to pat her upper leg, where there were no wounds. “Thinking about your parents, were you?”

“How did you know?”

He waved her question aside. “Not important, that is. I feel great regret for your life with the Jedi, Hilaal. Treat you appropriately, we did not.”

She had been mulling over a similar conclusion. “No, you didn’t.” The moment they were out of her mouth, she wished she could have had the words back. Not because she didn’t mean them, but because she felt them inappropriate. “Sorry.”

Yoda waved her apology aside as well. “More sorry am I. Much more.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “How would you like to proceed?”

“Master?”

“Fake your death, we can, if you wish to be free of the Jedi. Or resign, you may, or a leave of absence take.” Serious eyes glanced up at her. “The Order does not wish to lose you, but yours, the choice is.”

Fake my own death, she pondered. Tempting. Especially with the way her mind was having so much trouble reconciling itself to her murderous rampage.

“Thank you, Master Yoda. I’ll think about what you said.” Hilaal briefly wondered if the Jedi really did want her to leave the Order before deciding it didn’t really matter. She didn’t even notice when Yoda left. Hours later when the sun crested the skyscraper-dominated horizon, she heaved herself out of bed and began hunting for some of the clothes that Pelt had brought her.


“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Pelt asked her, a concerned look crossed with sadness pasted on his face. He stood very close to her at the foot of the boarding ramp with Naan close behind him, nearly mirroring his expression.

She nodded. Upon a few more hours of reflection, she realized she was doing the right thing. Emotional wounds were still throbbing—as were the physical ones—but the agony in her spirit lessened a little when she finally decided how to act. “It’ll do me good to get away from the Order.”

Pelt looked down at her feet. “I guess I can understand that. Do you think you’ll come back?”

Hilaal fought back insistent tears. “I don’t know.” Probably not, she thought to herself.

He seemed to sense her feelings. “Whatever you decide, you deserve to be happy, Young one. I…love you.”

She ran into his arms and enveloped him in a tight hug. “I love you too, Master.” To her own ears, Master sounded more like Father. As salty tears dripped down both humans’ faces, they spent several minutes luxuriating in the comfort of each others’ arms.

“I need to go,” Hilaal said, pushing him back, barely managing to plug the tide of her tears. “You’ll always be welcome to visit me, both of you.” Naan stepped forward for a hug of his own before stepping back behind his new Master.

“Count on it.” He glanced at her out of the corner of one eye. “Did you tell Antho you were leaving?”

The tears started dripping like rain again. “No. A…a clean break is better than a long drawn out one. I haven’t seen him for a little while. But I wrote him a letter explaining everything that he’ll get tonight.” In that letter she explained her reasoning, but not the feelings she had for him. It wouldn’t be fair for her to play on those emotions and make him choose between her and the Jedi. If he did decide to follow her of his own free will, that would be one thing. But adding the guilt of tearing him away from the Jedi on top of the guilt of all her murders could be considered unreasonably manipulative.

“Well there’s no break here,” Pelt reassured her, putting his big hand under her delicate chin. “This is merely an ‘Until next time.’”

“I know.” She hugged him again tightly, pressing her cheek up against Pelt’s muscular chest. For a few brief moments she enjoyed the sound of his beating heart before pushing him away again. “Goodbye, Pelt.”

“Goodbye, Young one.”

Hilaal backed a couple of steps up the boarding ramp, watching the wind whip at Pelt’s midnight blue robes. Naan came to stand next to him, placing an arm around his Master’s shoulders in support. Quickly, Pelt’s arm encircled Naan as they saw her backing into the main hold of the ship.

Hilaal hurried to a window so she could watch the two men as the ship lifted off. Even though she felt an immense sadness by leaving Pelt, there was a subtle contentment that suffused her, as though the Force was validating her decision. While it felt like the right thing to do, she wished it didn’t hurt so much. The Jedi…Antho…Pelt…all the things she had loved, she was leaving behind to start an entirely new life. She waved, and Pelt and Naan waved back until she couldn’t even see the landing pad from which she had taken off from.

She tried not to focus on the evils she had done during the flight, but the nightmares were there, just under the surface whenever she let down her guard. Still, the flight was swift and as she stood at the top of the same boarding ramp that had taken her away from her old life, she got the sense that she was starting anew.

At the base of the ramp, Hilaal’s mother and father waited with her two brothers. They all wore near-giddy expressions upon seeing her. She did her best to smile back at them, though she had a sudden urge to finger her lightsaber. Instead, she hefted her shoulder bag. Feeling the weight of the hilt bouncing around inside the container was comforting in its own way, as was the reassuring soft fur of the stuffed sand panther that was in the deep pocket of her jacket.

“Welcome home, Daughter.” Hilaal’s mother was the only one who looked like they could speak through the emotions that was constricting their throats, just like it was doing to hers.

“Thank you, Mother.” Suddenly nervous, she slowly walked down the ramp.

Both her mother and father held their hands out to her and she accepted them, grasping her father on her left side, and her mother on the right.


“Let’s go home,” Hilaal told them.

 

Wow. That was - amazing, Peri!!!!! Simply. How did you do that, so well and unexpectedly? You had Hilaal make a decision that seemed to come out of left field and be so permanent - but yet was also at the same time realistic, and most importantly, in-character, without making it feel/look like she was giving up/running away.

That was exquisitely done and touchingly handled.

Thank you.

if you ever write of Hilaal again, I'll be eager to read or anything actually.

 

Terrific ending for Hilaal with her beginning a life with her parents

Loved the entire story

 

Wow, Peri. What an amazing end to an amazing story. I'm really happy you took the time to repost this, thank you thank you thank you!

And now I know why Hilaal was voted Best OC a few years ago, she is truly a very well thought-out character.

I particularly liked the bit of dialogue with Yoda in the last chapter. It's a shame he forgot the lessons learnt from Hilaal's case when Anakin came around!

Thanks again for a great story! I'm going to miss this, but I'll be back to re-read it every now and then

 

Please forgive my tardy responses, as well as my formatting. Apparently this computer isn't going to let me reply to each post individually, so I'll just tag you and thank you that way.

WarmNyota: Your words warm my heart. Thank you so very much for them, and for your dedication to the story! I haven't been a very good author over the last few years. I wish I could convince myself that I needed to write again. Hopefully, one day. I really appreciated your constant replies!

EB: Thank very much for reading the whole thing, and taking the time to comment so consistently!

Chyntuck: Ahh, to the person who made all these posting shenanigans happen. Thank you very much for pushing me to repost this story. Your suggestion was very considerate and flattering. Anyone who appreciated me posting this, you can thank Chynny. Anybody who hated the story and has come armed with tomatoes? <looks at Chyntuck> Oh fine, you can throw them at me. Anyhoo. Thank you.

To everybody else who lurkread--thanks to you as well!

So...how do I tag the story as completed? I kinda looked but...sheesh. All these new fangled electronic thingies, changing every 5 years or so. How's a guy supposed to keep up?

 

You can threaten me with tomatoes all you want, I don't feel that there's any danger here

Go to the opening post of your story, click "edit" (bottom left, next to user name and date) and then "more options". This will take you to a page where you can edit the title bar, just add "complete" next to the title.

And thanks again for a wonderful story!