Beyond - Legends Enter the Foreign (time travel AU - Anakin Skywalker, Ben Skywalker, Tahiri, Allana, OCs & more)

My phone quickly autofills "vivisection" now. THIS IS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, VI

Welcome to the party

 

@Mira_Jade

I'm not even kidding, feel free to bug me as much as you want; I find it highly motivating. (And the next chapter is coming up after this, so there's that. )

SO MANY AUs!!! This multiverse is already out of control, and I haven't even posted any of that other stuff.

She's truly incredible, in so many ways. I'm glad you could see that side of her shining through. (Also, she may just show up in the decathlon I'm writing from Ben's POV, though you may not be thanking me for it... )

I did so enjoy including the Noghri, and it seemed a logical step when you know Leia was the one organizing the enclaves. I'm sure Matabakh and Deekmawr were both thoroughly puzzled, though I'd say since they weren't interacting with Anakin directly, they probably didn't get a clear scent and ended up brushing it off. Which is also probably why they didn't recognize Roan.

I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh at your pain, but you have to know I cracked up at this.

The Skywalkers are my favorites, I cannot lie.

Mine, too. And this was definitely one of my favorite conversations to write!

Eee, I'm so glad to hear that you think so!

I was really pleased with how that Festus conversation dovetailed right into Allana remembering Jacen, and then how that all related back to Anakin and his own demons. One of those instances when I felt like I was discovering the story rather than creating it. (And it's nice to be working my way back to the actual genesis of all the Festus/Allana content in this fic, after having worked on all the spin-offs.)

And you're so right. Allana really is one of the voices Anakin needs to hear right now. Between her words and Ben's in the previous chapter, I think Anakin has a lot to think about moving forward. And that's the real question, isn't it? Does the dark side change a person, or do they simply allow their inner self to be set free? Or is it somewhere in between? Not that there's an easy answer...

This is... I don't even have the words to express how honored and elated I am to read this. This means the world to me, it really does. Because I'll tell you, (and maybe this is selfish or conceited of me, but oh well), I first wrote a grown-up Allana back in 2006, when she was still just a toddler in the profic; and even though I didn't have much to go on from canon, her personality was still pretty clear to me when I started writing her, even then. I'll never be able to say she's mine the way that Festus or Ferrus or any of my other OCs are, but I don't know... I guess I do feel like she's mine. And I never expected to feel that way or to attach so strongly to her character, but now I can't imagine it being any different. (And maybe it feels good to know that she's one character who likely won't be touched by Disney canon because of her origins, and that means she can live on however I want her to.)

Also it's just so cool to think that my interpretation of a character has become the definitive interpretation for someone. I never dreamed that would ever happen as I played in my dark little corner of the SW sandbox.

Allana's big ol' Skywalker heart... I just love that.

I definitely didn't want to forget about Allana's non-Sky/Solo heritage, and I've enjoyed paralleling the characters' relationships with their mothers in this fic. (So many amazing moms!)

I loved toying with the fact that Allana is related to so many people and so many royals, my gosh.

The binary sunset is truly a standout in SW, and I like to think that most anyone who witnessed it would be impressed! So I was happy to invoke that moment here.

This was a challenge in the best way, showing that Anakin has finally become self-aware enough to understand the dangers of his attachments and how they could lead him to the dark side (and how they nearly did, and might still), while also realizing that this self-knowledge doesn't free him from those dangers. He's still not going to give up those attachments, so what does he do? How does he prevent himself from tumbling down that same dark hole that Vader once did? Obviously we know that healthy attachments are natural and good and not something to be feared - but not all of Anakin's relationships have been the healthiest, ya know? I feel like I'm getting a bit rambly, but basically, I agree 100% that the old Jedi Order needed to make some drastic changes, because it was stagnant and cut off from the fullness of life and the Force. But there were also very real and possibly valid reasons for why its ancient members decided to forbid material attachments, and I think that's an interesting dichotomy to explore. And it would be easy to say that all of the galaxy's problems would have been solved if Anakin's attachments had been nurtured from the start, but I'm not even sure that's the case? Because again, he wields so much power, and even in a world where he didn't have to hide his marriage and his love, the dark side is still there with all its temptations.

Okay, I'm really talking in circles now, aren't I? And I know there's so much more that could be said on the subject; but at the end of the day, Anakin was responsible for his own choices, and as stagnant and misguided as the Jedi Order was at the time of his fall, I just can't blame them for the choices Anakin made. And isn't that the realization Anakin himself came to at the end of the RotS novelization? There was never any dragon whispering in his ear, and there was no Vader... it was just him and his terrible choices that killed Padmé and destroyed everything, including himself.

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever...

Let's hope he can learn something this time around.

There was definitely a moment when I was working on this scene when I realized it was going to be so much more, so I'm really glad that came across even before you got to this part. (And thank you! )

Hee I think those ninjas were in my house as I was writing this part.

Yep, this conversation is where that scene in TLotD originated. (If you read through that scene in TLotD again, you might be able to pinpoint the exact moment when Mara dies... or you could wait to read my upcoming Ben decathlon, because we're going there. ) Ben's grief here is heartbreaking enough, coupled with the loss of Mara; but then when you realize that Dorian and Veeran were so close to being rescued, and what resulted because the Jedi weren't able to save them... it's awful.

I couldn't agree more. Ben is both his parents' son, and I don't doubt at all that - if truly faced with the choice - he would have done exactly as you said. And you're so right, that's the choice Mara would have made, too. That is the choice she made. She knew perhaps better than any living Jedi what it meant to be stolen away and molded into a killer, to be denied family and love and friendship, and to be manipulated by a Sith Lord. As Gabri and I have discussed more than once, the mission to Yalena would have been deeply personal for Mara; and even as pragmatic as she is, I just don't think she was going to leave that planet without rescuing every single kidnapped child. Including Dorian and Veeran.

Now how's that for pain?

I've got all kinds of ninjas up in here, Mira. You don't even know.

I do like my stories dark and twisty, emphasis on the twisty. (Okay, and the dark. Sheesh. )

Aw, thanks! You know, sometimes I wonder why the Force ghosts don't just tell the heroes everything they need to know, but I guess that's one of those storytelling devices that's better left unexplained. (Or mostly unexplained, lol.) Shroud of the dark side seems to be as good a reason as any, so I think we'll go with that. This version of the galaxy is pretty dark, after all, and I'm sure that doesn't help things when Ben tries to reach his parents.

It pleases me greatly, as well.

"What a piece of junk!"

NEVER, MIRA. NEVER.

(Or, you know, sort of in this next chapter. A little bit. Kind of.)

I do love me some parallels.

I'd always intended to have Anakin channel Force lightning in this fight, but I think rereading Traitor last summer really helped me zero in on the emotions in this moment. (There was a similar moment with Jacen that was so incredibly raw and powerful, it gave me chills.) And you know, it would be easy to say, "well, Anakin had a magical talk with Ben and Allana, and now he's all fixed and ready to face the darkness!" But that's not how life works, and considering Anakin was a step away from mass murdering the Jedi Order like a week ago, I have to think he'd still be struggling pretty hard with the dark side here.

Heehee, I thought you'd like that. But I really do think when Anakin is in the midst of battle, he'd have to flash back to his experiences alongside the clonetroopers. How could he not? And I'll be honest, even though I started writing this story back before TCW and Rex and Ahsoka existed (and therefore I still tend to view this particular AU as being in a world where the show didn't happen) - I couldn't help hearing Rex when I wrote this line.

Right??? And I just love leaning into that aspect of time travel, the shock and amazement at seeing newer and bigger technology. Of course Anakin would be impressed.

Dominius's POV is always fun to write. He has such casual disdain for basically everything.

We really didn't get enough fighter pilot antics in the prequels, so I was glad to include more here.

RIIIIIIIIGHT??? Anakin and Jaina would have gotten on SO well together. (Which is one of the reasons I LOVE Something There! )

It felt so good to write Anakin this way, after all the angst he's gone through. Put this man in a starfighter, and he's transformed. Sure, it's not permanent, but I loved being able to show the strong and confident Jedi general - the best starpilot in the galaxy.

(And I don't know why, but I decided Ben only tolerates flying, even if he's pretty good at it; and it amused me to no end writing his reactions here.)

The. Best.

That is quite the compliment, I don't even know what to say! This really means a lot to me, since you know how much I doubt my action scenes. (Even if I was pretty pleased with how this one turned out. ) This was definitely inspired by Rogue One, and of course you know who inspired Anakin's words. I liked imagining what Anakin's spin on Yoda's teachings would be. And obviously Vader in ANH clearly respected the power of the Force way more than the power of the Death Star, so I figure that faith had to come from somewhere.

I think I'm becoming a broken record, but this was one of my favorite scenes to write. There was just something special about having all these Jedi - members of a broken order, and most of them young - uniting in the Force and finding strength in each other (and dare I say, their attachments to one another?) I'm glad it had the impact I was aiming for.

He knows impressive when he sees it, lol.

That first line just came to me, and again, it was like the scene wrote itself. (And a certain scene in a certain unpublished origin fic was most definitely an echo of this moment, so it seemed even more right that Ferrus should be the POV character here.) It was all very eerie and so clear in my mind. I love it when that happens.

I'm not sure why I've decided that this is a thing with twins in fiction, but I have, and I've used it before, and I'll probably use it again.

(These two idiots, I love them, even when they are creepy as hell.)

Yep, it's probably a good thing Jacen ordered them to keep the prisoners alive.

He really can't even with all his creepy peers. Which is kind of hilarious when you look at who he's related to.

I really enjoy writing it! They really were two peas in a pod, once upon a time.

This is excellent to hear.

I know, I'm the worst.

I'll get back to it soon, I promise! (In the meantime, there's always the Festus & Ferrus decathlon pentathlon!)

I knoooooooooow.

And yeah, Ferrus definitely isn't Mezzon's biggest fan.

They are seriously one of my favorite things in fiction. Is it little wonder I have so many twin pairs - living and dead - in this story?

WELL YAY BECAUSE IT WAS DEFINITELY SUPPOSED TO REMIND YOU OF VADER. One of the interesting things about writing Jacen in this story has been writing him in a way that's both different from Vader, while also (hopefully) being somewhat of a reflection of him.

I killed so many people offscreen, Mira. But it felt right to me that Booster and the Errant Venture would still be out there, surviving.

There's definitely going to be some Zonama Sekot stuff in the next chapter...

It felt right.

I really do think Leia would have been proud of this moment; and even though I've mainly focused on the Jedi throughout this story, there's a whole galaxy out there, and a whole rebellion that Syal and Myri are a link to, so it was really satisfying bringing that into play through them.

I'm glad he comes across that way. My plan is working.

And we'll get to see Tahiri's thoughts on this whole revelation coming up...

This so perfectly encapsulates how I wanted to portray Jacen and the reaction I hoped to elicit with him, that I can't think of anything else to add. There might not be a ton of answers in the next chapter, but there will definitely be more about Jacen, and I look forward to seeing what you think about him as we continue on.

It's just such a mess.

Grandpa!Anakin is the best. I just want to write all the Skywalker family dynamics.

I definitely have a renewed love for J/J after working on this and reading ST, lemme tell you.

That would be such a hard realization for anyone, but especially for someone who isn't really connected to any of these heroic legacies. And maybe that's been one of the fun things about writing this story: mixing in those legacy characters with new ones who aren't connected by blood, but who have nevertheless become part of this little family of Jedi and rebels.

He has the potential to be amazing. Isn't that what makes his fall from grace that much more terrible and heart-wrenching in canon, just knowing the height from which he fell? I have to believe that, as magnificently horrible a villain as Darth Vader was, an Anakin Skywalker who resisted the dark side would be pretty incredible. (Something which you've already explored so well in your Song!verse )

Seriously, I do not know how to give these characters a break. (Although the next chapter is a bit more of the calm before the storm.)

Well, I guess it's a good thing I have a new chapter for you RIGHT NOW. (Or in like, twenty minutes ) I'm really flattered that you've enjoyed the story so much, and I love that you've enjoyed all the twists! It's been so fun and rewarding seeing this fic through new eyes, and I can't thank you enough for sharing all of your thoughts and reactions with me! As for the conclusion... we've still got several chapters to go, but we're entering the final arc, and I do think you're going to like it.

Honestly, you guys are the ones who keep bringing it up...




Next chapter coming up as soon as I finish formatting it! Only a month since the last update, what even is happening, guys?

 

~~

Chapter Nineteen


When the Jedi Council’s meeting finally came to an end, its members filed out of the Errant Venture’s conference room one by one. Tahiri could sense their lingering shock, as well as weary acceptance of the knowledge Ben had dropped on them all. Valin was the last out the door, and he turned back to her. “You coming?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

He nodded, eyes flitting away for a split-second to look over her shoulder. Then he followed after the other council members.

Tahiri closed the door and turned to face the man still seated at the table. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Ben was slow to look up at her and even slower to respond. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “Guess I thought if no one else knew, that would make it less real.”

Tahiri drew a sharp breath, struck suddenly by all that the truth entailed. Jacen Solo was alive. Jacen. Anakin and Jaina’s brother, her friend, the person she’d confided in most during those first months after the Yuuzhan Vong War ended, when she’d struggled to adapt to peacetime and the slow, almost otherworldly pace of life on Zonama Sekot. It had been such a marvel, to watch him among the people and plants and wildlife, as if he’d never picked up a weapon in his life. She knew better, though. Knew that despite his desire to live out a quiet existence, his spirit was still restless. Not restless in the way Anakin had been, or Jaina, or so many of their family and friends, yearning for adventure and action and the next great challenge. No, it was a restlessness born from knowledge, from learning too much of the evils that lurked in the shadowy fringes of men’s hearts, and from knowing that he might be the only one who could stop them.

He’d only mentioned it once, as they sat under the boras one night and basked in the glow of the millions of bioluminescent insects occupying the lower branches. He spoke of the battle with Onimi and the immense, awesome power that had flowed through him as he achieved complete and perfect unity with the Force. How he knew in that moment he would never achieve it again, but that he would spend the rest of his life trying.

She’d asked why he would bother trying if he already knew he was doomed to fail.

He’d smiled that lopsided Solo smile and gazed up at the gently swaying foliage. “Because at the end of the day, I’m still just an imperfect person, and the Force is still the Force. What do I truly know of its vastness, its possibilities? What do I know of my own limits? Why should I let my own perception of myself stop me from learning more, if there is more to be learned?”

He’d grown quiet, then. “I believe this peace will last. I want that more than anything. But if something new threatens that peace, don’t I owe it to the galaxy and to the people I love to stand in the gap?”

“You’re not the only one who bears that responsibility,” she’d reminded him.

“What if I could be?” he’d whispered.

A heavy stillness had descended on the bora grove as his question hung in the air between them. “You’re not all powerful, Jacen.”

He’d closed his eyes and released a breath into the night. “I don’t want to be all powerful, Tahiri. And anyway, I don’t have to be all powerful.”

He didn’t say more after that, but she’d always suspected he’d left that thought unfinished.

Tahiri felt another breath hiss past her teeth as Ben finally met her gaze, drawing her back to the present. She’d wondered why he’d become so withdrawn these last few years, hiding from the Force even when he was safe among his family and friends. Now she knew.

“You’re not as angry as I thought you’d be,” Ben said in that simple, detached way of his, the one he used whenever he tried to convince himself he wasn’t worried or afraid.

Another breath, in and out. Wasn’t she angry? Shouldn’t she be? She thought of Jacen again – Jacen – still out there, manipulating events for Force knew how many years, and all for what? She didn’t know, could hardly even form a theory or a plan because Ben had kept it a secret from her, from all of them…

Her next question, she supposed, was also the most obvious one. “Are you going to tell Allana?”

Those blue eyes went wide with a sudden and primal terror. “No,” he said without hesitation. “Absolutely not.”

She found in that moment that she didn’t even have the energy to be frustrated with him. “Ben, you can’t keep this from her. You know you can’t.”

“Watch me,” he snapped, more than a hint of old rebellion in his tone. Tahiri bit the inside of her lip and continued.

“She’s going to find out, one way or another. Do you really want her to hear it from someone else, knowing that you kept it from her?”

“I want her to be safe.” His defiance crumbled away, leaving naked fear in its wake. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me, as long as she’s safe.”

Tahiri paused, carefully weighing her next question. “Does that mean you’re not bringing her with us to Bakura?”

Ben gave her an exasperated look. “Of course not. You think after everything that’s happened that I’d take her straight to the front lines?”

“I think you’re her master, Ben. You chose to take on that role, but ever since then you’ve been pushing her aside. And then you decided to go undercover for six months, and not only did you leave her behind, you took two of her friends with you instead.”

“I took two Jedi Knights.”

“Knights, apprentices… they’re teenagers, Ben, just like she is. If Bakura isn’t too dangerous for Kohr and Ames, why is it too dangerous for Allana?”

“Because she’s family,” he said, standing up with enough force to send his chair skidding backward. “She’s his family, and if I know him at all, I know he’ll want her back. I’m not going to let that happen, Tahiri. Not ever.”

Ben put a hand on his forehead and turned away from her, taking a few steps toward one of the conference room’s gray, featureless walls. “She’ll understand why she can’t go,” he said, quieter this time. “She’ll understand that a battle with the bulk of the Sith fleet is too dangerous for an apprentice. She’ll listen to reason.”

Tahiri watched the back of his head for a moment, already half-regretting what she was about to say. “You mean like you did?”

He spun around so fast, it was almost inhuman. “This,” he growled, “is not the same.”

She shook her head. “Wake up, Ben. How old were you when you ran off to face Jacen? Fifteen? It’s exactly the same.”

“She’s not me, Tahiri!” He raised a hand and jabbed his fingers into the center of his chest. “I was stupid! I was stupid, and I was reckless, and my dad died because of it. Allana’s not like that. She doesn’t lose her head like that.”

The grief and desperation in his voice was almost enough to make her look away. “Who are you trying to convince, Ben?” she said as gently as she could manage. “Look, I’d love to just leave her to a peaceful life on Zonama Sekot, but you know she’d never stand for that, not when there’s a whole galaxy out there suffering. The Jacen we knew might be dead, but every good part of him lives on in her. She’s already involved in this war, whether you like it or not. The least you can do is be by her side through it.”

Ben’s expression hardened, his mouth set in a grim, determined line; and Tahiri couldn’t help seeing Mara as she stared at him. Attack mode, she thought, bracing herself.

“Would you still feel the same way if we were talking about Davin and Dolan?”

Tahiri let out a long, slow breath. Definitely his mother’s son, although she had a feeling Mara would have been less than impressed with his tactics in this instance.

“I’m going to pretend you weren’t just using your eight-year-old cousins and the boys I’ve raised as emotional blackmail, and point out that our situations are not the same, for reasons I’ve already elaborated on. This isn’t about me or the twins. This is about you and Allana and what’s right.”

Ben met her eyes and shook his head. “It’s not fair, what you’re asking me to do. I’m sorry, Tahiri; I can’t tell her about Jacen, and I can’t let anyone else do it, either.” He turned to leave, pausing for a moment to look back at her. “Allana stays on Zonama Sekot. That’s not up for discussion.”

He walked out without saying another word, and Tahiri was left to stand alone in the stillness that followed. She thought about going after him, trying to convince him to see reason, when her comlink beeped on her hip. She lifted the device to her lips. “This is Tahiri.”

“We’re coming up on Zonama Sekot,” Booster reported, all business.

“Thanks, I’ll be up in a minute to prep.” She slid the comlink back onto her belt and looked around at the empty room.

“I don’t want to be all powerful, Tahiri. And anyway, I don’t have to be all powerful.”

Part of her thought it didn’t matter at all what his reasons were for choosing the dark side, not after the destruction and horror he’d inflicted on the galaxy; but there was a small part of her that wished she knew why he’d turned on them, why he’d betrayed everyone and everything he’d once claimed to love, and whether it had anything to do with that quiet conversation so many years ago.

~~


The ride down to Zonama Sekot was uneventful, a fact for which Anakin was grateful, given the last few days. No, scratch that. Given the last few weeks, maybe longer. Even before he’d arrived here, he’d been embroiled in combat in the Outer Rim, with hardly any relief. And that was still a bit surreal to think of, the fact that he’d been a general leading armies not that long ago, while here he was a Force-wielding stranger of questionable sanity, who occasionally helped blow up starfighters and crash warships. He wouldn’t say that he missed fighting in the Clone Wars, exactly, although he did miss the familiarity of his enemies and the camaraderie of his men, and Obi-Wan…

He fought down a rush of grief as he stared out at the brilliant stretch of green across Zonama Sekot’s surface. He wished he could tell Obi-Wan all that he’d learned from Ben about the living world. His former master would have appreciated finally learning some answers to the planet’s numerous mysteries, answers they could never have imagined all those years ago.

The shuttle touched down in the center of a bora grove, surrounded on all sides by ships of various makes and models. A sort of outdoor hangar, it seemed. As Anakin stepped off the transport, he noticed the long branches of the boras stretching out above them, weaving together to create a dense canopy over the ships. For just a moment, he recalled what it felt like to be a twelve-year-old Jedi Padawan, stepping foot on this wondrous world for the first time.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and Anakin turned toward them, only to be met by one of the strangest looking humanoids he’d ever seen. She was female, with skin so white it was nearly translucent. Every inch of that exposed skin was laced with dark blue tattoos that curled like vines. Her long ears were pierced all the way from lobe to point, and her lips bore signs of similar piercings, although nothing currently filled those holes. The tattoos and piercings weren’t what made her look strange, though; he’d seen all kinds of body decorations on many different species over the years and had grown accustomed to even the most outlandish designs. No, it was the way her skin was pulled tight against her skull, as if there wasn’t quite enough of it to cover her head. It was the left arm that – while organic – looked like it belonged to an entirely different species. Anakin flexed his prosthetic arm reflexively at the sight of it.

The woman didn’t seem to notice his reaction, smiling instead as Tahiri stepped to the front of their group.

“Gadma dar, Tahiri Veila,” she spoke in a halting, guttural language the likes of which Anakin had never heard. The woman reached out to grasp Tahiri’s arm, and the Jedi Master returned the gesture, each of them gripping just below the other’s elbow.

“Al’ tanna, Tai Yura Dao,” Tahiri answered, the throaty words seemingly as natural to her as speaking Basic. “Is Danni close?”

The alien woman nodded. “She is in the boras nursery, but I’m sure she has sensed your presence by now.”

“She has indeed.” A middle-aged human woman with shoulder-length blonde hair appeared in the clearing. Tahiri released the alien woman and strode over to embrace the newcomer.

“Danni,” she said, and there was no mistaking the relief in her tone. “Good to see you’re all still safe.”

The older woman returned the hug before pulling away to take in the assembled Jedi and children. “I’m relieved you all made it. When I couldn’t contact Gren…” She shook her head and offered a warm smile. “But I suppose we’ll be meeting with the rebel leaders shortly to discuss the plan?”

Anakin saw Tahiri nod in response, then wave a hand over her shoulder. Ben and the other council members broke away from their group to join her. The woman named Danni smiled again.

“Everyone,” she called out, “if you’ll please follow Tai Yura, she’ll take you to the enclave so you can get settled and have something to eat.”

Someone nudged Anakin from behind, and when he looked around, he found Allana sidling up next to him with a faint but devious grin on her face.

“First time seeing a Yuuzhan Vong in person?” she asked. “Don’t worry, the ones who live here are peaceful.”

Anakin couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “There are more here?”

“Oh yeah, whole clans of them. They settled here after the war. This planet was sort of born from their homeworld, so they have a spiritual connection to it.”

“And they don’t mind sharing it with the Jedi?”

Allana shook her head, thoughtful. “I don’t think so. It’s a big planet, and we have a spiritual connection to it, too.”

Anakin nodded his head and followed after Allana. Ben had told him about Zonama Sekot’s origins and its role in the Yuuzhan Vong War, but he hadn’t said much about the invaders themselves, other than the fact that they were from another galaxy, were prone to self-mutilation, used only organic technology, and had been completely cut off from the Force at some point in the past.

Okay, on second thought, maybe Ben had been pretty detailed.

A hand grasped at his, and he looked down to see Davin pulling him along the path. “Come on!” he said, brown eyes wide with excitement. “You gotta see the enclave!”

Dolan ran up alongside his twin as they half-skipped down the path. Long stalks swayed on either side of the trail, standing nearly three meters tall and tipped with translucent globes. Beyond the stalks was an endless expanse of knee-high grasses and massive, treelike boras. Calling it a forest didn’t fully capture the magnitude of the delicately balanced ecosystem or the sentience that bound it all together. The people who lived here had another word for it – the tempasi, if he remembered right.

The twins circled around Allana as they continued jogging ahead, Davin carrying on a near-constant stream of chatter while Dolan supplied a word here and there. During the shuttle ride, Allana had mentioned that she and the twins had spent significant portions of their childhood here, in Zonama Sekot’s secret enclave. The boys, it seemed, were happy to be home. Anakin couldn’t blame them one bit. In a galaxy torn apart by war, this world was as close to paradise as most worlds came.

After a short walk, the displaced Jedi arrived at the enclave. There were about a dozen pre-fab buildings arranged in two long rows on either side of the path, which doubled in width as it entered the clearing. At the far end of the trail was a bowl-like depression that formed a natural amphitheater.

Anakin smiled as he watched the children disperse. Davin and Dolan had all but forgotten him, running down the path with several of their peers. Allana followed after, caught up in their wake, leaving him alone at the edge of the enclave.

Something rustled in the grasses next to the path, and Anakin turned toward the sound. An older woman with pale blue skin and long black hair stood near one of the boras – a native Ferroan, by the look of her. There was something different about her in the Force, something he couldn’t put his finger on. She raised a hand to him, motioning for him to join her. Curious, he left the path and strode through the field of grasses, following her deeper into the tempasi.

She stopped in a small clearing, a few meters wide, where only one shaft of sunlight broke through the dense canopy. Then she turned to him, and Anakin felt his eyes go wide.

He knew her face.

“Hello, Anakin. I didn’t think I would see you again. I was told you were dead.”

Anakin studied the woman, felt her strange, shifting presence. Here, but not here. “Jabitha?” he said, testing the name of the girl he had met all those years ago, frowning because it still didn’t feel right. He watched her watching him, a small, knowing smile on her lips, and suddenly her presence was more, was everything.

Oh. He understood now. “Hello… Sekot.”

The image before him smiled wider. He supposed it probably was Jabitha’s form Sekot had taken, and he wondered if that meant that she, too, was dead.

“You’ve been through much since we last met,” Sekot said, “but I still recognized you instantly.”

Anakin exhaled softly. “From what I hear, you’ve been through a lot, too.”

The image shimmered for a moment, color shifting in pearlescent waves across its surface. Jabitha disappeared, replaced by a young boy; Anakin realized, with a start, that he was looking at himself. His twelve-year-old double shrugged. “What’s a few decades when you’ve existed for millennia?”

“Existed, maybe. But your consciousness was still young when we met.”

“You remember.” Sekot studied him for a moment, tilting its head to one side. “There is something strange about you, though, isn’t there? I can feel it… the Force knows. I think maybe it sent you here.”

“Sent me?” That seemed like the only explanation, really, and yet he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on that possibility for long.

“Yes,” Sekot continued. “You must have wondered why you’re here.”

“Maybe you could give me a hint, because I’m coming up short.”

“I’m no more partial to the mysteries of the Force than you or anyone else in this galaxy; I’m simply larger, with a unique and greater perspective. An immensity, but also a unity, as you once described me. If I see more clearly, it’s because I see through many eyes, and have connected with so many lifeforms.”

Sekot’s form shuddered again, and the image of Anakin’s younger self was replaced by a man, one who looked to have only recently shed the last vestiges of boyish youth. His brown eyes were full of warmth, which was perhaps the reason it took Anakin several long seconds to recognize the image of his grandson.

Anakin swallowed hard as he looked into Jacen’s eyes. “How long have you known?”

“Not as long as you have, it would seem.” That voice. It wasn’t quite as deep as the one he’d heard on Vjun, and there was a gentleness to it that was completely at odds with the Sith Master who had torn him down. He felt his chest tighten as he realized who it reminded him of, and he wondered if anyone had ever told Allana how much like her father she truly was.

“I thought I felt him,” Sekot said. “A few times, reaching out for me. But the contact was always fleeting. You see, we had already started sheltering the Jedi here, and I knew I couldn’t allow any presence to track me, no matter their intentions.”

“You never told anyone?”

“As I said, the contact was fleeting, and I thought perhaps I was imagining it. Missing an old friend.”

Anakin studied the face before him, the face of his grandson, the face of his legacy in more ways than one. “What caused him to fall?”

The sadness that stirred in the air around Sekot was surprising in its depth. The image of Jacen took a step toward the sunlight, one hand brushing the tops of the long grasses that surrounded them. “I don’t have the answer you seek. The Jacen Solo I knew had many paths open to him, and for a time he was content to explore them here. But he felt called to greater, more expansive knowledge, and so he left to travel the stars and explore the Force in new ways.” Sekot paused, and it felt to Anakin as though the whole planet took a breath. He supposed that wasn’t far from the reality of it. “Jacen had an enormous capacity for empathy, and his love for his family was deep and abiding, even though he felt somehow separated from them by all that he’d endured.”

Anakin thought he understood that feeling, in a way. All the time he’d spent away from Padmé over the last three years, and the secrets he’d kept from Obi-Wan during that same time… he’d held himself at a distance from them both, without even realizing it.

“You know,” Sekot continued, “many years ago, Jacen refused my help in the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, saying that he couldn’t accept it if it meant committing genocide. He wanted an end to the fighting as much as anyone, but he believed such a course of action would turn his people into the very monsters they sought to repel.

“Luke chose differently, when I offered. He was bitterly torn, as Jacen was, but he was willing to accept my help, because he loved his son, and he wanted a brighter future for him and for all the other people in this galaxy. Even if it meant the end of the Yuuzhan Vong.”

Something rankled inside Anakin at that, at the suggestion that his son was anything less than the compassionate, noble-hearted hero he knew him to be, or that Jacen had ever held any moral superiority over him.

Sekot raised one eyebrow. “I make no moral judgment, Anakin. Just as I have never judged you for what you did to protect me and my people so long ago.”

Anakin let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “There’s a lot more you could judge me for.”

The image of his grandson frowned. “Is that what you want? To be judged? To be told you are damned? That there’s nothing left for you to do but die for your crimes?”

Anakin opened his left hand and stared down at it, at the inflamed circle of skin in the center of his palm. Then he closed it into a fist. “Maybe that’s what I deserve.”

“But is that what will do the most good? Isn’t it your calling as a Jedi Knight, to be a guardian of peace and justice? To protect those who cannot protect themselves?” Sekot raised one hand toward that single ray of sunshine. “To be a light against the darkness?”

Anakin watched the interplay of sunlight and shadow between Sekot’s fingers, unable to shake the grief that clung to him.

Sekot closed its eyes, still reaching toward the sun. “I once told Jacen that we all have two choices when faced with danger: to run, or to fight.”

“Are you telling me to run, or are you urging me to fight?”

“Neither. I wouldn’t presume to advise you of which course is best. That’s a choice only you can make.”

“Great,” Anakin muttered, raising both eyebrows.

“However,” Sekot continued, slowly lowering its hand, “there is a third option, one that I learned from both Jacen and Luke.”

“And that is?”

Sekot met his eyes and smiled. “Stand.”

The light faded, and when Anakin looked up, he realized the sun had begun to dip toward the horizon and was no longer visible through the gap in the canopy.

Stand. Was it really as simple as that?

“I sometimes wonder,” Sekot said quietly, almost a whisper, “if the only thing that made their initial answers different was that Luke had a child and Jacen did not.” Then the sentient planet’s image shrugged and raised a hand in the direction they’d come. “I suppose you ought to get back to the others. I suspect you won’t be staying here much longer. But it was good to see you again, my old friend.”

Friend. For some reason, Anakin was reminded briefly of his reunion with Artoo on the Daybreak. He looked at Sekot’s outstretched hand – Jacen’s hand – and in that moment, he felt utterly and achingly alone.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a rueful smile. “I guess it’s fitting that the last remaining people who knew me in this world and who I knew in mine wouldn’t even be people at all.”

“And yet you’ve made several new connections since you arrived here, haven’t you?”

He thought of Davin and Dolan running among the boras, so eager to show him their home. He thought of the way Tahiri had looked at him on Zihrent, the gratitude that had shone in her eyes, even though she had to know exactly who he was. Allana’s head resting against his shoulder as they watched the sunrise.

Ben smirking every time he called him Gramps, or reaching out to catch him on Vjun, or sitting next to him on the sands of Tatooine.

“Yes,” Anakin murmured, “I guess I have.”

~~


The holoconference with the Rebel leaders ended late in the afternoon, as Zonama Sekot’s current sun sank lower in the sky, and its light stretched across the tempasi, filtering between the leafy branches of the boras. The meeting had gone well, Ben thought. Better than he could have ever dreamed. He’d had no idea how many rebel cells Syal and Myri were connected to, or how deep their influence ran. He was starting to believe they might actually have a chance of not only breaking the blockade of Bakura, but of bringing some actual hurt to the Sith fleet.

He and Tahiri walked in silence along the main path through the enclave. Karanya and Valin had already gone off to find their children, Karanya to shows hers to their new temporary home, and Valin to inform his that he would be shipping out with the Jedi strike team. Ben knew that it was weighing on Tahiri, the fact that she, too, would have to leave her children behind. But Davin and Dolan would be safe here, at least.

And of course, there was still something Ben needed to take care of before he left. He sighed and kicked at the dirt path beneath his boots. He wasn’t looking forward to it one bit, but it had to be done.

They found them in the amphitheater. Several of the children were putting on a silly, improvised performance while their audience – a small group of younglings and their parents, plus a few teenage apprentices – watched. Allana was sitting next to Anakin near the back of the amphitheater, with Davin and Dolan on either side of them. She looked over her shoulder, her expression shifting from carefree to guarded in an instant at the sight of him. Did she know what he’d come here to say, or was that just her automatic reaction to being near him these days?

Anakin and the twins noticed Allana’s distraction, and they turned and spotted Ben and Tahiri. The boys scrambled to their feet and launched themselves at their guardian; Tahiri caught them with practiced ease, sinking to her knees as she wrapped them in her arms.

“Are you done with all your meetings?” Davin asked quickly.

Tahiri’s presence was hesitant, but she favored them with a smile. “For now,” she said.

Ben looked over her head at Allana and inhaled. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The twins continued to jabber away with Tahiri as Allana rose to join him. He caught Anakin watching them, but he ignored him, turning to walk back up the path. Allana followed after him, staying one step behind. When they were out of earshot of the others, he stopped.

“You’re leaving me here,” Allana said, failing to disguise the tremor in her voice.

Ben turned to face her, aware of the distance between them, how it seemed impossibly vast and uncrossable in that moment. “It’s for the best.”

“I know,” she said, glancing down at the dirt. “I’d just get in the way.”

Ben rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, something twisting inside him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She looked up at him, her gray eyes clouded with resignation and worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she replied, a low murmur.

He almost reached out to her then. He knew he should, and he couldn’t understand or explain why he didn’t. Would it fix everything between them if he did? Or would it just make it hurt more when he left?

“I won’t be gone long,” he said lightly, forcing some false cheer into his voice. “You won’t even miss me.”

I always miss you, she said in a whisper of thought, too pointed for him to ignore.

That twisting feeling again, so tight he almost couldn’t breathe from it. “Allana—”

He was interrupted by the return of Tahiri with the twins, and Anakin trailing after them. “It’s almost twenty hundred hours,” she said evenly, green eyes traveling slowly from Ben to Allana and back again. “Time to go.”

Ben swallowed and looked past her at Anakin. He hadn’t bothered asking whether his grandfather planned to join in the mission to free Bakura; he already knew what the other man’s answer would be, just as he knew it would have been futile to try to convince him to stay here. “Okay,” he answered, and took a step away from Allana. Next to Tahiri, the twins were silent. “Hey,” Ben said, catching their attention. “You guys behave for Allana and Master Nal, okay?”

They both nodded wordlessly. Davin tried to puff his chest out bravely while Dolan merely looked down at the ground, his long, dark bangs hanging over his eyes. Ben reached out to ruffle their hair, and while they didn’t relax as they usually did, he felt a swell of affection from each of them.

As the boys turned to Tahiri for one more goodbye hug, Ben saw Anakin wrap Allana in an embrace, then whisper something he couldn’t hear. She closed her eyes and laughed under her breath, hugging him tighter. Then they let go of each other, and Anakin walked over to join Ben and Tahiri.

“Come on,” Tahiri said softly, raising both eyebrows. “Our transport awaits.”

Ben nodded, and he and Anakin followed her up the path, the one that would take them away from the enclave and away from their family; and who knew if they would ever return?

He turned back once, just a brief glance over his shoulder as they reached the farthest boundary of the enclave, thinking – no, hoping – that he might see Allana still standing there in the distance. But the amphitheater had emptied, and the enclave’s occupants all returned to their homes; and there was no sign of her.

~~


It was nearly dark by the time Allana returned Davin and Dolan to the cozy, temporary dwelling where Karanya Nal and her three children were staying. Though her cousins had been despondent most of the way home, they cheered up considerably when they walked through the door and saw Master Nal putting dinner on the table. The two boys ran to the kitchenette, peering into mixing bowls and examining the leftover ingredients scattered across the counter.

Karanya smiled at Allana as she set a salad bowl on the wooden table. “There’s plenty for everyone.”

Allana tried to smile for the twins’ sake. “Thank you, but I’m not very hungry. I was actually going to take a walk. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Karanya replied, smiling again as she wiped her hands on a towel. “I understand; it’s been a hard week for all of us. I’ll make up a plate for you, in case you’re hungry when you get back.”

“Thank you.”

Karanya looked over her shoulder, redirecting her attention to the twins. “Boys, would you go in the other room and tell the girls and Renner that dinner is ready?”

Davin and Dolan scrambled to obey, only turning back at the last second. “Bye, Allana,” Davin said.

Dolan waved. “See you later.”

She raised a hand to wave back, but they were already gone. She smiled one last time at Master Nal and promised to return before it got too late.

Once the door slid shut behind her, Allana took a deep breath. The air was so still tonight, even if the planet wasn’t. She had to admit, it was nice to be back on Zonama Sekot. She’d missed how alive it was. Of course, other planets were alive, too; but none of them could quite compare with a world that had its own lifeforce, its own sentience. She felt more at home here than she ever had living on Hapes. She supposed part of that had to do with how young she’d been when she left her homeworld. But she liked to think she would have felt this connection regardless of time spent elsewhere.

Allana tilted her head back to look up at the stars. They were different every time thanks to the massive hyperdrive engines that kept the planet on the move. She wondered if Ben and the others had left the system yet. She couldn’t feel them, so it was possible they were already on their way to rendezvous with the rebel fleet. Once again, she’d been left behind.

She understood Ben’s reasons this time, she really did. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but she got it. The barely contained fear in his eyes said it all. This was going to be a dangerous and important mission, and she would only be a hindrance to him.

As she wandered toward the edge of the enclave, she felt a slight disturbance in the Force. It was coming from one of the buildings the Jedi had constructed to serve as a classroom. Allana frowned. That building should have been empty at this time of night. She changed direction and headed toward the source of the disturbance, her path lit by globes of bioluminescence that topped the tall plant stalks along the main trail.

She had almost reached the front door when she heard voices. Both were garbled, but one was definitely a child’s voice. They were coming from outside the back of the building. Allana walked around to the side, wondering if one of the adults had caught a youngling sneaking out, when she heard the child say something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

“The Jedi are on their way to fight you.”

It must have been a mistake; she had to have misheard somehow. Yes, she’d wondered how the Sith could have found them so quickly after Vjun, but this was a child she was hearing, not a spy. It wasn’t possible, was it?

Allana crept close enough to the corner of the building to peek out and see a small blond boy holding a tiny holoproj out in front of him. The hologram it produced was too small for her to make out the Sith Lord on the other end, but his voice was as clear now as if he were standing there.

“Don’t worry, Roan. They won’t be fighting me. I’ll be on Coruscant the whole time.”

Allana leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, continuing to listen to the carefully measured voice that accompanied the hologram.

“You have done very well, my son. I will retrieve you soon.”

Allana pressed a hand to her mouth, and her heart began to race. A few more words were exchanged between the boy and the hologram, but she could no longer hear them because someone else was speaking in her head, a fragment of a memory she’d almost forgotten she had.

—a warm kiss against her cheek—

—his fingers pulling away from hers—

—his voice, gentle and strong and sad—

“You remember how much I love you, no matter what. I’ll be back for you soon.”

He was alive. How was he alive? How was it even possible? Allana kept her hand clamped over her mouth because she was sure that if she didn’t, she would scream.

Suddenly it was quiet, and she realized the conversation was over. Even half paralyzed by shock she knew she had to stop the boy and turn him over to the Masters. As she stepped around the corner to confront the child, she ran smack into him, knocking him and his holoproj to the ground. Before he could get up, she called the holoproj to her hand and held it up between them.

“I heard everything,” she said. In the faint, bioluminescent glow of the gently swaying globes, Allana could see that the boy – Roan – was very young, probably no more than six years old. His brown eyes were wide, but not from fear, exactly. There was something else there, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Are you her?” he asked.

Allana’s eyes narrowed. Why wasn’t he more concerned about getting caught? “What do you mean?”

Roan’s gaze wandered, and his voice grew quiet. “One time I could feel my papa looking for someone. I saw a picture in my head… are you her?”

Allana felt her stomach lurch. With just a few words this kid had turned her entire world upside down. His papa. She stared at him hard, and as she did, she began to see the resemblance. It wasn’t terribly strong, but she could see it in the eyes and nose. Without thinking, Allana touched her own nose.

“Yes,” she said at last, feeling the full weight of that admission. “I’m her. I’m Allana, your… your sister.”

Roan nodded, reaching for the holoproj. “He’ll want to know right away.”

“No.” Allana withdrew the holoproj and tucked it under her cloak. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Roan dropped his hand. “Are you going to send me back?”

“Of course not, why—” She cut herself off as realization struck. “Do you not want to go back?”

He hesitated and bit his lip before shaking his head. Allana reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Has he ever hurt you?”

“No,” Roan answered, squirming a little. “He hurts everyone else.”

“And that’s why you don’t want to go?”

“Uh-huh. And because it’s scary there. I get sick a lot.”

Allana couldn’t bear to imagine what his life was like surrounded by evil and darkness all the time. “Come here,” she said, pulling him into her arms. She was surprised at how forcefully he clung to her. “It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to go back there ever again.”

Roan looked up at her, and she saw tears in his eyes. “He knows where I am. He’ll find me.”

Allana kneeled down in front of him. “This planet can travel through hyperspace, so we can go somewhere he won’t find you.”

“But you still have the holoprojector.” His voice was small as he pointed to her cloak. Allana looked down and pulled the holoproj out to study it.

“Is this a homing beacon?” she asked.

He nodded, looking so guilty she didn’t know what to say. The obvious solution to Roan’s problem would be to destroy the holoproj and the beacon along with it.

“I’ll be back for you soon.”

He was looking for her. How long had he been looking for her? Eight years? She swallowed hard and curled her fingers around the edges of the device.

“Roan,” she said, “let me make sure I completely understand you. If I were to take this holoproj somewhere else, somewhere far away from you, would he come for me?”

“Yes.”

“Would he know it wasn’t you with the beacon?”

Roan shifted uncomfortably. “No. I don’t think so.”

Allana tried to still the tremor in her hands. She pocketed the holoproj and held Roan at arm’s length. “Do you know how to get back to your room?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to go back there now, and don’t tell anyone about this conversation. You’re safe here; no one is going to take you away. Understand?”

Roan nodded bravely.

Allana was about to send him on his way when a thought occurred to her. “Roan, have you met Davin and Dolan?”

“Yes. They taught me how to play ball.”

Allana reached out a hand to touch his cheek. “They’re your cousins. Our father and their mother were brother and sister.”

That seemed to interest him. “Like me and you?”

She smiled at him but couldn’t quite hide the sadness in her voice. “Yeah. Like you and me.” She hugged him one more time, then turned him back toward the enclave. “Now go on.” She watched until he disappeared into the shadows. Once he was gone, she stood up and leaned against the building, pulling out the tiny holoproj once more.

Eight years she’d thought him dead. Eight years wondering if he’d ever really meant to come back for her, wondering if she could have done more to bring him back to the light. The logical part of her reminded her that she’d been seven years old and that whatever choice he made, it didn’t have to do with her; but in her heart she couldn’t accept that because when you loved someone you had to think about their needs, too. So why hadn’t he realized she needed her father? Why wasn’t she enough to save him?

Allana closed her eyes, remembering his face as it had been – warm, kind, more handsome to her than any of the men on Hapes or elsewhere. He was still in there somewhere. No one could bury that much goodness. She wasn’t seven anymore. She could turn him back to the good side. If Anakin Skywalker could return to the light after being evil for so long, then so could Jacen Solo.

She had to go now, had to get the beacon off Zonama Sekot before the Sith could track it there. A few ships were kept in a sheltered grove nearby; if she hurried, she could be offworld and out of the sector before anyone realized she was missing. She turned the holoproj over and over between her fingers, heart still racing at the thought of what she was about to do. She should leave a message for Karanya, so she and the twins wouldn’t worry.

She should send a message to Ben.

Allana ran to the grove where the starships were docked, boarding the smallest one. It looked more like an auxiliary shuttle for a larger ship than a vessel in its own right, but it would do the job. While the ship ran through pre-flight diagnostics, she found the craft’s holorecorder and brought it online.

She stood still for a moment, staring into the faintly glowing lens of the recorder, her tongue suddenly too big for her mouth. She had to tell Ben. She couldn’t leave without telling him. But how to begin when she already knew what his reaction would be? She fidgeted with the hem of her tunic, searching for the right words.

In the end, she knew the only thing she could tell Ben was the truth. She owed him that much.

The ship hummed around her, systems chirping as one-by-one they were cleared for flight. Allana reached out to start the recording unit, then she folded her hands together in front of her and put on the best smile she could manage. Everything would work out, she knew, because the Force was with her. She could feel it.

~~


As far as punishments went, serving as nanny and escort to Lord Krayt’s little protégé was hardly the worst hand they could have been dealt. Humiliating and far beneath them, yes; but they were still alive and still in the Master’s service. Darth Ferrus had to be at least somewhat grateful for that.

A sideways glance told him all he needed to know about his brother’s mood. Even without their bond and the Force, he could see Festus was still stewing over his defeat on Vjun and their failure at Haven. The flippancy with which he usually conducted himself had been replaced by steadily seething anger; one false word might send him into a rage that even Ferrus didn’t care to be present for.

“How much further, Yaanis?” Ferrus said, leaning forward to address the Rodian Lesser who was flying their shuttle. They should have been there by now.

“Two minutes to realspace, my lord.”

Ferrus sat back in his chair, wincing a little as he did so. The lightsaber wound across his abdomen was healing, but every now and again it burned enough to take his breath away. The Sith valued strength, but they also valued pain. Another punishment, another lesson learned.

“I can’t believe the little brat was on Vjun and we never even realized it.”

Ferrus looked over in surprise at Festus. Not surprise at what he’d said – he and his twin had already had this conversation several times in the days following Vjun – but at the fact that he’d spoken at all. Festus hadn’t said a word to him the entire trip, and now he wanted to talk?

Typical.

“Really?” Ferrus said. “You want to start this now that we’re about to bring the kid on board?”

“Afraid to hurt his precious wittle feelings?” Festus said with a snarl.

“Afraid to get in even more trouble with the Master!”

Festus looked like he was about to reach for his lightsaber, but at the last second he flung his hand in the air in a gesture more reminiscent of his usual self. “Like I care what Solo’s little orphan bastard tells the Master. He was lucky to be spared. He’s the Master’s pet project, nothing more.”

Ferrus crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. “Which one was he anyway? I still haven’t figured it out. Hardly anyone knows what he looks like.”

Festus stared at him sidelong for a moment. “The blond boy who came with the last shipment. The one who made too much eye contact.”

“The one you said was creepy?”

His brother nodded. “His incredibly reliable source of intel is a fragging kid. And he’s punishing us?” The scorn in his voice was thick enough to choke on.

Ferrus rolled his eyes. The self-pity was getting ridiculous. “You’re the one who’s always saying to trust the Master’s plan. Why don’t you just say what you’re really mad about, huh? You went after the princess alone and were almost killed by some random Jedi who took you down without breaking a sweat.”

“He took me by surprise!” Festus snapped, slamming his fist against the hull. “You weren’t there, you don’t know what happened!”

Ferrus tapped a finger against his temple. “I’m always there, brother.” He was enjoying the role reversal, playing the calm and collected twin for once.

Festus snarled again and turned away, running a hand over his throat. That part of the fight Ferrus had seen – and felt – clearly through his brother. Windpipe constricting, legs kicking uselessly against the air, the Force refusing to answer his call. Ferrus had felt his brother’s utter helplessness as the mysterious Jedi Knight summoned the dark side in a way neither of them could have expected.

The shuttle dropped out of hyperspace at the coordinates sent to them from the beacon. A single small ship floated in what was otherwise a void – no nearby planets or other heavenly bodies. Just the lights from their ships and the far-off stars. Yaanis looked at them over his shoulder. “Shall I dock with the vessel, my lords?”

“Go ahead,” Ferrus said, scooting forward to get a better look at the craft. “How did he end up way out here in that thing? He’s just a little kid.”

“Who cares?” Festus replied. “Let’s just get this over with and get back to Coruscant.”

They waited in silence as their shuttle mounted on top of the smaller craft and extended its docking ring. Once the tube was sealed, Yaanis opened the hatch.

Ferrus dropped down first, followed by his brother. The ship they’d entered was quiet and appeared empty, but Ferrus sensed one lifeform. “Come on,” he said. “Kid’s in the cockpit.”

They walked straight down the short corridor to the cockpit door and opened it without any trouble. But when it slid open, it wasn’t a little boy who was facing them.

It was the princess-in-exile Allana Djo.

She held both hands out, her lightsaber resting in her palms. “I surrender myself into your custody,” she said with a calm, almost regal assuredness. Coming from such a tiny girl, it was strangely intimidating, though Ferrus would never admit to being impressed. She definitely wasn’t the pitiful, cowering child he remembered from the enclave.

Behind him, Ferrus felt his brother’s dark glee. “My, my, what an interesting turn of events,” Festus said. “I suppose this wasn’t such a bad trip after all.”

Ferrus reached out and grabbed the girl’s lightsaber. “You might wish you hadn’t given this up so easily,” he said, nodding his head in Festus’s direction. “He hasn’t been too happy about what happened the last time you two met.”

Festus pushed past him and grabbed Allana by the wrists, jerking her toward him. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss it on the way to Coruscant, won’t we, Allana?”

Despite her proximity to Festus, the girl managed to tilt her chin up and stare at her captor as though he were the dirt she’d scraped off her boots. “The only thing we’re going to discuss is how quickly you will deliver me to your master, Darth Krayt.”

Festus lifted one hand to touch the end of Allana’s braid. Then he tilted his head sideways and leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “And why would the Master of the Sith give a damn about you, little princess?”

Ferrus was surprised when she turned her head to look straight into Festus’s eyes, her face only centimeters from his. “Because,” she said, a faint smirk quirking her lips. “I’m his daughter. And he’s been looking for me for a long, long time.”

~~

 

What the HECK, in one thread Mira should prepare herself because I'm relentless, but in this thread Mira's relentlessness is motivating? The BETRAYAL

It was TRAUMATIC

Yes, this would be the proper aftermath of Traitor

(Instead of the canon aftermath where it was Luke and Mara who first greeted Jacen upon his return and Mara was so angry on his behalf for everything Vergere put him through and then Jacen still betrayed her in his care of her son and murdered her, I will always be bitter *shakes fist @ Denning and Traviss*)

I'm not even kidding, "why should I let my own perception of myself stop me" is what I'm going to think of now every time I think I can't do something

He's so like Mara

Tahiri's had a tough week, she's too tired for this nonsense

I still say the best part of this conversation is that they're both right. Why must you write no-win scenarios all the dang time, Vi, whhyyy

Thinking about ESB, and I guess Ben is definitely Luke's son, too

This makes me laugh; anyone who knew Mara would recognize that expression on Ben's face

Why must the Yuuzhan Vong always be so creepy

lolol

Despite not having read the whole last third of the NJO (look, I had angst fatigue, all right) or Rogue Planet, Zonama Sekot feels very in character here

I love Anakin being instantly defensive of Luke even though he never met him

I'm telling you, Rebel Stand. Allston summed the whole Jedi philosophy up better than anyone before or after him. "I stand in your way."

I really like this, and as someone without children who is always deeply insulted at any insinuations that I care less about the world or others because of that, I need to explain why:

As SW itself has shown over and over, it's human nature to protect that which is dearest to each of us, even if that's a selfish or unwise thing to do in the moment. And not all parents would have made Luke's choice, and not all non-parents would have made Jacen's choice. And even though it is so very obvious that it shouldn't even need to be said that genocide is always unacceptable, in this instance it's not like Luke was deciding to actively exterminate an entire people out of bigotry. This had been a long and brutal war that put the entire galaxy at risk, Luke had already seen what a lesser war had done to everyone who lived through it, and even so there's no way that he wasn't deeply torn by this decision. But at this moment and in this place, Ben and the life he would have if this war continued was Luke's dearest concern, and he acted in accord with that priority, whereas Jacen, who had lived a very different life and had very different experiences, held his philosophical and moral beliefs most dear and acted in accord with that. If you were to reverse the circumstances and experiences of Luke and Jacen here, they might very well have made the opposite decisions. So what this moment depicts, for me, is not some fundamental difference between parents and non-parents, but a fundamental facet of imperfect humanity. It's very nuanced, and simultaneously very, very simple, and I think you portrayed it well.

Everyone is so damaged omigosh where is my happy!fic

~ * n i n j a s * ~

Well, y'know, it just wouldn't be the Skywalker family if you didn't find an extra unexpected relation somewhere along the way

As I've said, this example of Anakin a few generations on could become a dangerous thing. He did so very many horrific things, including at least two actual genocides, and he really never made any sort of atonement at all for any of them. Nevertheless, he's had "REDEEMED" stamped on his forehead and that story would be told over and over again as a symbol of hope, and once you get far enough away from it that you see just that shining hope of redemption without the practical details of what exactly that entails and how, I feel like expectations might be a little...impractical.

"This is not going to go the way you think"

Festus: Sulker Extraordinaire, but also Quite Intimidating When Enraged

lolol

Let's all just take a moment to appreciate exactly what it would take for Festus to consider someone creepy

In which Ferrus has his moment in the sun

Watch this girl channel Tenel Ka and Leia and Padmé all at once

 

Wow! This chapter was amazing.

I loved the part where Tahiri found out about Jacen. Her reaction was perfect, and also really sad.

I’m not the biggest fan of Zonama Sekot, but you wrote it pretty well.

The part where Allana was talking to Festus and Ferrus was great. I love how calm she was in talking to them, especially when she told them Krayt was her father.

I have a question about Festus and Ferrus though, where did you come up with the names? Or was it just random?

 

I was hoping to have the next chapter ready by now, but it’s not quite there yet. Hopefully it won’t be long now, but until then, here, have some replies!


@Gabri_Jade

Hey, I need the relentlessness for this story. End of July, baby! I’ve gotta get this thing finished!

(Also, you love me )

You know, sometimes I think we joke about it so much that it can’t be nearly as bad as I thought it was when I was writing it…

And then I reread TLotD, and I’m like, “yep, still horrifying. Way to go, brain.”

I love that you think so.

Shhhhh… *pats you on the head* It’s okay, Gabri, in this thread we love and respect Mara…

I feel so accomplished now! And wise.

He iiiiiiisss.

Tahiri needs a vacation, for real.

Because I love ~ * c o m p l e x i t y * ~

In all seriousness, I’m really glad you liked this conversation. I’m very happy with how it all came together in the end.

Lol, he is. Impulsive Skywalker genes…

I have to believe Tahiri has seen that expression on Mara and Ben many times over the years.

Lol, so creepy.

I really do think you’d enjoy certain portions of what came later in the series, though probably not all of it. Part of me wants to reread the entire NJO because there’s so much I’ve forgotten, but I just don’t even know if I have the energy for that. But, I’m glad you liked Zonama Sekot here! I suppose this was my substitute for the Force ghost exposition scene we got in RotJ.

That was something that felt exactly right to me, that he would react this way.

And I may or may not have been thinking of a prior conversation we had on this subject when I got to this point…

See, now I just want to frame this whole comment and highlight it where everyone can see, because I love it so much. I’m really glad that this part resonated with you. I was sort of feeling like I’d bitten off more than I could chew, dipping my toes into some of the weighty philosophical stuff from the post-Traitor NJO, especially since it’s been so long since I read any of those books in their entirety. Your comments here helped reassure me that maybe I do have a handle on things. (Plus they were so insightful!) I’m sure I could ramble on about the greater context of the NJO and Force Heretic III and Jacen and Luke’s realizations both during and after that book, but really? This was great.

Lololollll… it’s coming, Gabri. But I’ve got to get through this story first, so I guess you need to pester me relentlessly until it’s done.

(I love that this has become a thing now, @Mira_Jade)

I’m sticking to all the SW tropes in this story, yes sir.

Absolutely. I believe in mercy and grace and redemption, and the story of Anakin Skywalker could certainly serve as a great example of that, being both a cautionary tale and a message of hope for anyone who feels like they’ve fallen too far to ever reach for the light again. But… context is important, and Luke could just as easily have died on that Death Star. He made a choice, and fortunately his faith was rewarded – but he still almost died. And this time there’s no Emperor holding the fallen Jedi’s leash, and Allana isn’t exactly cognizant of the difference that might make…

Kind of the motto for my stories in general, maybe.

This brooding and deadly Lord Space Byron

Apparently Festus believes direct and unrelenting eye contact is super creepy. Which explains why he’s very good at it.

Your secret fave, admit it.

Right? I love her so much, Gabri.

Cue Festus and Ferrus’s “404 Page Not Found” moment.

As always, your insightful commentary is just the best, and I love seeing all the parts that resonated with or amused you. Thanks for the awesome feedback, dearest! (Now pester me some more, I need to get this next chapter written! )




@Destiny975

Thanks so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I loved writing Tahiri's introspection about Jacen, so I'm happy to know it resonated.

That's fair.

I do particularly enjoy writing Allana's interaction with those two. And she just dropped that bombshell on them so casually... yep, I love it, too.

I had a long and rambling response to this typed up earlier, but the boards ate it. So I’ll try to keep it brief this time.

Basically, when I was making up a whole bunch of Sith names in the very earliest planning stages, I looked for words in English and other languages that either described traits the Sith would find desirable, or were ones that we as the audience would use to describe a potential Sith Lord. (I know, I didn’t really deviate from the Sith-naming playbook ) Ferrus came from “ferrous” (of, relating to, or containing iron) because I was picturing a brutally strong character. By the time I came up with Festus, I knew I wanted him to be Ferrus’s twin, so I was looking for something that started with the same letter and was similar in length and feel. Festus came from “fester” (to rot, poison, cause increasing irritation or bitterness, deteriorate) and, to a lesser extent, “infestation”. Which worked well, since I imagined Ferrus’s twin being the brains to his brawn, but also very unhinged. They were really just names on a page for a few years, and those names were only the starting point for developing their personalities. But I’m pleased that they still basically describe their key characteristics as Sith Lords.




@Mira_Jade

MIRAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Hehe, I laughed quite a bit at this comment.

I lost it at TRASH TWINS.

I hope I can live up to that expectation!

I have so many thoughts on this, and I’m sure I’ve written about this in bits and pieces scattered across responses to a bunch of the other stories, but I’ll try to sum up. (Okay, I lied, this is going to be a full-on rambling essay so I put it under a spoiler tag, prepare yourself…)

Spoiler: Vi rambles on way too much about things no one asked about . . .

In the years since LotF ended, it seemed like two opposite schools of thought emerged in regards to Jacen’s fall and its portrayal in the novels. (And I could be completely wrong here, as I haven’t been totally immersed in those discussions.) But as often happens when a polarizing character dies, one segment of fandom ended up demonizing Jacen while the other segment held him up as some sort of saint. Some people felt like Jacen’s fall was a long time coming, that it was seeded in the NJO all along, that Vergere being a secret Sith Lord made all the sense in the world and of course Jacen following her teachings would lead him into a dark side spiral. Conversely, there are plenty of people who think Jacen was wildly OOC in DN and LotF, that he totally twisted Vergere’s teachings because the authors failed to grasp what those teachings were actually saying, and that the real Jacen was an enlightened and peace-loving hero who loved the universe and would never plunge the galaxy into chaos to serve his own selfish goals.

My views lie somewhere in the middle of this. I do think Jacen was intended to take on the leadership of the NJO eventually and that he wasn't necessarily meant to turn to the dark side. I’ve read opinions that say that the reason Jacen’s fall even became a thing was because TPTB reversed course on the ideas about the Force that they’d explored in TUF and were trying to get back to a clearer dark side/light side dichotomy. And since Jacen espoused the teachings of Vergere, she of “there is no dark side” fame, what better way to show that those teachings were wrong than by showing her student falling to the dark side because of them? And hey, if we can copy & paste the prequel trilogy conflict onto the post-NJO galaxy and make Jacen a carbon copy of Vader, so much the better, right?

And that’s really my problem with Jacen’s fall in the novels. It didn’t read as organic to me. I tend to believe that any character could have a believable fall to the dark side, under the correct circumstances, so I never had the reaction of “that’s impossible, Jacen would never fall the dark side”… but neither did I think Jacen would have become the mentally unstable, cartoonishly brutal dictator that I remember from LotF. It always seemed to me that his five-year journey after the NJO – and before that, his moment of unity with the Force and the realization that he would never achieve that again – were the most promising sources for a dark side turn, unlikely as it might have been; but the novels really only paid lip service to those things.

I think I’ve mentioned it before, but before I started writing EtF, I wrote several vignettes set in a very similar AU world, one where Jacen succeeded in taking control of the galaxy, and proceeded to rule over it for the next twenty years. (In fact, most of the OCs in this story were originally created for that world, and a lot of ideas carried over from it.) I wrote the first of those older vigs before Sacrifice came out, back when I thought Jacen’s love for Allana would be the catalyst for both his fall and possible redemption, back when I thought he would legitimately struggle with whether he had to sacrifice her to become a Sith Lord (or whatever his goal was). So even though LotF went off in a very different direction, the views I had of Jacen in my proto-EtF ‘verse stuck with me, and they carried over when I started planning and writing EtF.

Now, I was never a huge Jacen Solo fan. I read a few of the YJK books when I was in elementary school, but I didn’t read the NJO until I was a senior in high school, so it was really like being introduced to a new character. I didn’t connect with him much in the early NJO. I respected that he went through some serious crap, especially in Traitor (which was a hard read for me, at the time), and while I was glad to see him triumphant at the end of TUF, I was sort of miffed that Jaina had been sidelined in the final battle, because as you know, I have a thing for sibling and twin bonds, and canon hadn’t given me nearly enough of Luke and Leia in that regard.

All this to say, I liked Jacen well enough by the end of the NJO, but he didn’t particularly speak to me as a character, so I didn’t have a strong connection to him as I was writing EtF. I knew I wanted him to be a more believable version of himself in my story, but I was still working with the bones of the shoddy characterization from LotF. And for a long time, that didn’t bother me, because it wasn’t really his story I was telling anyway; he was just a means to tell Anakin and Ben’s stories. And then from 2014-2015 I wrote most of the final confrontation with Jacen, and I started to feel like what I had wasn’t enough. There were glimpses of something deeper there, but I couldn’t quite draw it out. When I finally returned to this story last summer, I didn’t get very far before I realized I needed to go back to the NJO and figure out who I actually thought Jacen was. Then I finally picked up Traitor again, for probably the first time since 2005...


(Yep, that was me, reading that book. I wasn’t able to write for several days after my reread, because suddenly all of my writing felt completely futile and pointless and how dare I even try to write Jacen after reading that?)

It was a tad dramatic, I know. But basically, reading Traitor again made me care about Jacen Solo, and pretty deeply, too. I also realized I had way more in common with him than I’d previously thought. I knew I couldn’t continue on with EtF until I sorted out everything I was suddenly realizing about this character. As strange as it might seem, writing TLotD and HTBM really helped in that regard, even if Jacen wasn’t the central focus of either story. And I’m not going to claim that my version of him in this ‘verse is the best dark side version of him that could have existed, because again, it still stems from a flawed characterization in what I feel were ill-conceived novels. But I’ve done my best to work within the parameters of what I’d already written, while trying to make this Jacen at least somewhat recognizable as the boy we knew from the NJO.

Umm, so… yeah, that was long. And it’s probably WAY more information than you needed, yikes. That said, I hope your faith in me is rewarded, and that you’ll find Jacen’s plan more satisfying and interesting than what we got in the novels!

I’m really glad you like this scene. This is one of those scenes that pretty much wrote itself, it was so clear in my mind. And I have thought more than once about what that experience must have been like for Jacen, and what it might have felt like to never be able to grasp it again… especially if a time ever came when that power was the only answer to some new threat, or maybe the solution to some unforeseen problem.

I’ve been so focused on what Jacen means to Anakin and Ben and Allana, but Tahiri was around before any of them, and she offers a unique perspective that I just couldn’t help exploring a little. Like Sekot later on, her memories are a link back to the young, idealistic, caring person Jacen once was, and I thought it was important to highlight those things as we head into the final arc. Because monsters with depth and complex emotions are a lot more interesting to me than monsters who just want to burn it all down for no reason.

Ben and Tahiri have some good arguments in this story, don’t they? Ben’s been holding onto a lot, and for such a long time, too. And Tahiri was there for all of those traumatic events – she understands better than most, and she obviously feels for him – but that’s not going to stop her from pointing out when she thinks he’s making a mistake.

Look, you’re assuming I’m even going to wait for the decathlon to show that particular death…

Right? Mara wouldn’t have stood for that nonsense from him either.

I couldn’t really understand it in LotF, that’s for sure. I remember by the end of that series, I just wanted Jacen to die. I didn’t even care about redemption; I wanted him gone. Here's hoping I do it better? A little?

I loved imagining Anakin’s reaction to the Yuuzhan Vong, especially with how mechanically-inclined he is. Honestly, I love imagining his reactions to so many of the weird developments that have taken place since his time. That’s really one of the best things about writing time travel, isn’t it?

SO MUCH THIS. I recently reread those portions of Force Heretic III, and it helped remind me of why I wrote Tahiri the way I have in this story. To say that the post-NJO novels did her character a disservice is putting it mildly – they walked back every bit of development that she went through during the war, including the fact that she’d already moved on from Anakin’s death by the time she had to merge Riina’s consciousness with her own. Tahiri learning to reconcile who she once was with who she’d had to become was incredibly powerful. (Hmmm… I wonder if that’s a theme I've ever though about as relates to a certain trash lord… )

That was basically my impression of the book as well. I actually meant to flip back through my copy of RP for research purposes, but it’s still packed up in a box somewhere from the move, and I figured I’d gotten what I needed from Force Heretic III and my own memory. And I was really happy with how the whole conversation between Anakin and Sekot ended up playing out.

Yay, success! I’ve done a lot of thinking about the parallels between Anakin and Ben and Jacen for this story. And even though there are clear differences between Anakin and Jacen, and I don’t think Jacen’s fall in profic should have so closely mirrored his grandfather’s, I do think it’s interesting to explore the commonalities between them, because there certainly are some.

We shall see!

I was so eager to get to the events at the end of this chapter, but this conversation ended up being just as important and necessary, at least to me, and I really loved writing it. I’m so pleased that you enjoyed it, too!

Yep, that’s it right there. Now if he can just hold onto that, maybe there’s a chance things could be better…

Then again, Jacen loved his family, too.

ANGST!

Yep, definitely her actual brother. I love them.

RIGHT???

High praise indeed! (My kids were watching Lilo & Stitch yesterday, and now I’m totally picturing Pleakley smacking Jumba in the face with a View-Master and saying “Here! Educate yourself!” )

Seriously, I’m so glad you’re enjoying the parallels. I sometimes have wondered if there are too many or if I’m really doing any better with them than the ST did… so it’s good to know you find them well done!

Festus’s creep-ometer is clearly broken, because Roan is precious and adorable and omg Festus look at yourself and your choices, jeez.

I’m not saying I’ve already written a scene like this for the sequel, but I’m not not saying I’ve written it…

And of course Ferrus is never going to admit out loud - or even to himself - that he was worried for his brother in any way.

My dear and precious cinnamon roll… she has no idea how awesome she is already.

Lolol, you and me both. He’d be so perfect as Festus, I can’t even.

I love how, even though she insists she’s not a princess and doesn’t think of herself that way, she still channels such fiercely regal contempt when she deals with this trash lord.

Like I told Gabri, I imagine this moment is one giant error screen for Festus and Ferrus, like… does not even compute.

You know, Mira, technically you’ve already seen Festus reflect back on this moment with Allana, in the middle section of WtWS…

And I have to thank you again for all of your lovely and hilarious commentary. It’s always a pleasure to read what you’ve enjoyed, and I look forward to seeing what you think of what comes next!

(And seriously, please pester me until I get the next chapter written, gaaaaah...)

 

What happens next? I wanna know! Please, please, please, please!

Consider yourself officially pestered. Lol.

 

What do you know, it worked! Next chapter is coming up in a few minutes!

 

~~

Chapter Twenty


In the Embrace of Pain, time has no meaning.

He could hang there for hours, for days, for weeks, even, and never know the difference. Isn’t that a little strange? How quickly time ceases to matter here. How it stretches on endlessly, and he’s nothing more than a blink of light in some vast and terrible void. That might not be so bad, he thinks, if it weren’t for the pain.

He doesn’t know how long he has been here. Long enough that he can no longer scream. His throat is raw from it. Raw and tired and…

He feels him, then. Coming closer now.

“Look at me, Ben.”

A hand grabs his chin, forcing his head up. That motion sends more pain wrenching down his spine.

“Tell me you understand now,” his tormentor says. “Please tell me you understand.”

He can barely feel his lips much less make them move to form words. His entire body, down to the last nerve, is a jumble of unrelenting agony. The man before him – his master, his flesh and blood – stares directly into his eyes. A wholly different but no less effective torture.

“When this is over,” he says, “you’ll understand why I did this, and you will stand by my side as you once did.”

Another spasm courses through him. He feels water on his face and becomes dimly aware that he is crying, sobbing, losing control of even the most basic functions.

In the midst of the pain, he feels a faint flicker of heat, a burning light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. It builds and builds, a blazing fire poised to become an inferno, and he realizes he knows that feeling in a way. His cousin takes notice of the powerful heat as well, and the overwhelming agony ceases.

“Uncle Luke.”

The new presence is angry, angrier than he’s ever felt it; but it’s also tightly controlled. The voice, though deadly, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

“Release my son.”

He falls to the floor, free of the organism that has trapped him for Force only knows how long. As he lifts his head and cracks his eyes open, he sees his father walking toward them, hands empty at his sides, the fiercest, most frightening expression he’s ever seen on his face.

“I was only trying to educate him as I was educated,” his tormentor says with maddening calm.

His father’s voice is cold as death. “Vergere’s methods were brutal, and I’ll never say they were right – but she never meant to break you.”

“And yet I was broken, wasn’t I? Broken and reforged into something greater, able to reach a plane beyond even your understanding. I am making Ben strong, stronger than you or I could even imagine. Think of it, Uncle Luke. A galaxy where our family can be safe forever, a galaxy where your son is the reason for that safety.”

“Is he going to keep us safe from you?” A new voice echoes in the chamber, and two more figures appear from behind his father. Jaina’s lightsaber is activated at her side, and next to her Jag Fel holds a blaster rifle in his hands.

He can practically feel the smile twisting his cousin’s lips. “Three against one? That’s hardly fair, Jaina.”

The building rumbles and quakes underneath him; Ben recognizes the impact of several concussion grenades going off at once.

“We have a little more than three,” Jaina says. Jacen tenses for the first time since they arrived.

“It’s not enough to stop—” His words are cut off as Ben’s father raises a hand and sends the Sith Lord flying across the room. The moments after are a tangle of sensations and images that he barely has time to experience let alone process—

Fear as a pair of hands lift him from the floor. A glimpse of his dad moving past him, not even sparing him so much as a glance. Jag’s arms and Jaina’s hands, alternately pulling and pushing him out of the chamber as sirens wail and the building trembles around them. Kicking against them, begging them to go back. The comlink on Jaina’s hip suddenly alive with chatter, with a voice he knows better than his own.

“Do you have him?” his mom says. The sound of her is like a wire pulled taut, but never breaking.

“Yes, we’re almost to the platform!”

Bright, blinding light exploding in his eyes; he’s isn’t sure if it’s fire or daylight, but Force it hurts. He stumbles, hardly able to feel his legs beneath him. Jag lifts him; he doesn’t have the strength to keep fighting against his grip. Somewhere inside him, in the place where his father has always been, he feels a gentle touch – a hand pressed to his cheek, so strong and so final.

“Almost there, Ben,” Jaina says, her voice close to his ear.

His feet hit cold durasteel, sloped upward, ridged at intervals… the ramp of a starship. They drag him up that ramp and inside, and right as they’re about to set him down, he feels it happen.

All the torment – the toxins in his veins, barbs prodding his flesh, the Embrace twisting and pulling him in every unnatural direction – none of that compares to the gaping hole that tears wide in his center, the rift created by the sudden and violent disruption in the Force that can mean only one thing.

He realizes he was wrong. He can scream, and he does. He falls to his knees, half-blinded by tears as he screams and sobs and reaches desperately for the brilliant star that is his father, knowing already that it’s in vain. His star goes supernova, and the shock wave in the Force is so massive that he thinks it might swallow him whole. He drags his fingers along the deck, digging in, curling them into fists that slam down hard against the floor; and he swears that no one else will die to protect him, and that he’ll never leave anyone behind ever again.

~~


The Mon Calamari Star Cruiser Harbinger drifted in orbit over the third planet of the Troxar system. A veteran of many great and terrible battles, it nevertheless endured and now led a motley assortment of warships culled from all across the galaxy. From the Rebel strongholds in Sith territory to the last remnants of the once expansive Galactic Alliance, the call had been answered, and in greater numbers than could have been predicted. Just as their forebears had discovered decades ago when they came together to smash an empire – and just as the Jedi had discovered as recently as Zihrent – they knew they weren’t alone, and that they had more strength together than they realized.

Ben sat in the cockpit of the Daybreak, staring out the viewport as Elias piloted the freighter toward the Harbinger. The Mon Cal cruiser’s long lines and sloping curves filled him simultaneously with awe and dread. The sight was always an impressive one, and yet Ben couldn’t help being reminded of the last time he’d seen one of these ships, breaking apart in atmosphere over Coruscant.

Still, the fleet Syal had assembled at Troxar was impressive. In addition to the Mon Cal warships that made up the bulk of the fleet, Ben saw dozens of Corellian corvettes, a few Dreadnaughts of varying design, a Galactic-class battle carrier, and several ships bearing prominent MandalMotors insignia. There were even a few older Chiss clawcraft running patrols alongside the more familiar X-wing and A-wing fighters. He hadn’t realized there were so many people out there still fighting. And to think that they would risk so much so quickly when one of the last defiantly independent systems was threatened, that they wouldn’t hesitate to act… well, that, too, filled him with equal parts awe and dread.

Elias guided the Daybreak into one of the cruiser’s hangar bays, and the Jedi and their companions disembarked and were led to temporary crew quarters. Myri said they were still waiting on a few rebel cells, including a Hapan battle group that had splintered from the Consortium following Allana’s exile and had since grown to include the scattered remnants of several worlds’ defense fleets. They were supposed to be coming from somewhere in the Inner Rim – a tricky proposition, with how those hyperlanes were patrolled – but once they arrived, the attack would commence.

There was a subdued, yet oddly hopeful energy in the air as Ben and his companions made their way through the cruiser’s corridors. It crackled in the Force around him, as potent as static electricity charging the air during a storm. Many of the crew members they passed took notice of the lightsabers that hung from the Jedi’s belts, and the warmth that radiated from them in response was a balm on a wound Ben hadn’t even realized he carried with him.

Tahiri stopped their little group at a juncture and motioned for Anakin to join her. “You’re coming with me to medical,” she said, hooking her thumb toward the intersecting corridor. “Need to make sure you’re cleared for combat.”

Ben was surprised when Anakin didn’t try to argue the point. His grandfather raised one eyebrow at Tahiri, in what seemed more reluctant acceptance than anything else, and followed after her in the direction of the medbay. Ben and the others made their way to the crew’s quarters and were shown to their rooms. Kohr and Ames ducked into one, arguing over who would get which bunk, while Elias and Arden quietly slipped into another, faces reddening a little as they realized he’d noticed; Ben thought about reminding them that this was only a brief stay, but he decided not to embarrass them further.

He turned to his own quarters and stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. The space was small and way too bright, but it was clean, at least. He crossed to one of the room’s two bunks and dropped his bag on it, then allowed himself to sink down onto the thin mattress. He took a breath that didn’t quite fill him, and leaned forward to rub his hands over his face.

“Tell me you understand now. Please tell me you understand.”

He dug in with his fingers, pressing harder against his brow, as if doing so would scrub the words from his mind forever. He didn’t understand. He would never understand, just as he would never be able to rid himself of the memory of that day, or of his foolishness in thinking that he could have made any kind of difference and somehow prevented every terrible thing that happened after.

Next to him, something inside his bag beeped; were it not for the stillness of the room, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Ben glanced over at the bag, wondering if there was anything in there beside his datapad that would make that sound. He rifled through his bag and retrieved the device, frowning as he realized that he had an unread message that was several hours old and that he didn’t recognize the sender. Had it been beeping intermittently in his bag that whole time? He must have been too preoccupied to notice.

He tapped the screen to access the message, then nearly lost his grip on the datapad when a hologram of Allana appeared before him. Her eyes rose toward his, and he almost asked her what was going on, before remembering that this wasn’t a live transmission, but a recorded message she’d sent hours ago. His heart was suddenly in his throat as he took in her serious expression, and he knew then that, no matter what she had to say, there was no world in which he was prepared to hear it.

~~


Anakin navigated the cool white corridors of the cruiser with a renewed sense of purpose, having thankfully been cleared for combat by the Rebel medics. He and Tahiri had fallen into a silence that he would almost describe as amicable as she led him back toward the crew’s quarters.

“This is Ben,” she said, stopping in front of one in a long line of identical white doors. “Get some rest. We’ll be shipping out soon.”

Anakin offered a small smile and nodded in return. “You too.”

Tahiri sighed, and her eyes held the faintest trace of amusement. “I probably should,” she said with a laugh. “I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

Anakin grinned just a little. “I know the feeling.”

The Jedi Master studied him for a moment, her expression still guarded, but warmer now, like it had been on Zihrent. “You’ll be all right,” she said.

They were the same words she’d spoken at Haven, just before the healer’s assistant had led him away. When he’d been so broken he could barely function, and her words had rung hollow in his ears. “Yeah,” he said, feeling a surge of strength as he raised a hand to the door’s keypad. “I think I will be.”

Tahiri’s only response was a small nod, and then she turned away and walked back the way they’d come. Anakin watched her for a few seconds before keying open the door.

Even though Ben’s presence was hidden in the Force, Anakin could tell something was wrong the moment he walked into the room. His grandson was sitting on the edge of his bunk, one hand covering his mouth as he leaned forward over his knees. He didn’t look up, not even a little.

“Hey,” Anakin said, watching him closely for a reaction. “Everything okay?”

Behind his hand, Ben took a long breath. “Yeah,” he mumbled, rising from the bunk as he stared down at the floor. He looked like a man operating in extreme gravity, sluggish and heavy, focused so much on the effort of staying upright that all else was beyond his notice. “I’m going for a walk,” he said, only half turning to look at Anakin as he moved toward the door.

“Ben,” Anakin tried again, stepping into his path. “What is it?”

Ben shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just need to get out of here. Too small.” And with that, he sidestepped Anakin and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Anakin stared at the door for a few seconds, an unshakeable sense of dread crowding around his heart. Ben had been a bit dispirited ever since they left Zonama Sekot, but this was… this was something else. He was considering whether or not to give chase when he noticed the datapad lying on Ben’s bunk. It wasn’t like him to leave something personal lying around; he was usually more meticulous than that. Was this the cause of his sudden mood shift?

He knew he shouldn’t look at it, that whatever it contained, it belonged to Ben and Ben alone. But he had never been very good at following rules.

He snatched the datapad off the bed and saw that there was a message from an unknown sender, one that had been received hours ago but only recently played. Anakin activated the message, his eyes widening as Allana’s miniaturized form appeared before him. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, and there was a slightly sad but knowing smile on her face as she began to speak.

“Hello, Ben. By the time you receive this message, I will no longer be on Zonama Sekot. I discovered something after you left, something you might not even believe.” Her lips pressed in a thin line for a moment before she continued. “My father is alive. He’s… he’s Krayt. Darth Krayt is my father. I know it sounds completely crazy, but I promise it’s true. And he’s on Coruscant right now, not at Bakura like you all thought.”

Here she took a deep breath, and Anakin breathed with her.

“I’ve made a decision, Ben. I’m going to Coruscant to face him. I know there’s still good in him. There has to be, and if I can help him see… then maybe all of this will finally end.”

Allana smiled again, briefly, before sobering once more.

“I know it probably sounds hopeless, but I have enough hope for the both of us. For nearly as long as I can remember, you’ve been looking out for me and trying to protect me, and I want you to know how grateful I am for that, and for you. But you don’t have to protect me anymore. I’m a Jedi Knight, and this is my destiny.”

Allana reached out with one hand, and the recording ended.

He didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the datapad’s empty screen; his next awareness was of running through the starship’s corridors searching for any sign of Ben, or for anyone who could point him in the right direction.

He stumbled upon him almost by accident when he found himself deep in the belly of the ship, close to its hangar bays. Anakin passed a few of those bays before coming to the one that held the Daybreak.

Of course, he told himself, irritated that he hadn’t thought to come here sooner.

He entered the otherwise empty hangar bay and found Ben standing alone near the energy shield, staring out into open space.

“Were you even going to tell me about this?” Anakin said, holding up the datapad.

Ben turned around, eyeing the device with a look somewhere between bitterness and exhaustion. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” he said, not quite making eye contact.

“Hadn’t thought—?” Anakin cut himself off and pressed his lips together as he tried to rein in his temper. “We have to go after her.”

Ben did make eye contact then, and under those layers of fatigue and strain, Anakin saw something new, something truly distressing.

Despair.

His grandson’s face twisted in a grimace. “And do what, Anakin? Storm the fortress, like we did on Vjun? Because that ended up working out so well, didn’t it?”

Anakin took a step toward him. “Ben, we can do this. You and me, together—”

“Haven,” Ben said, cutting him off. “Zihrent. Bakura. Tahiri and the others warned me about going to Vjun, but I didn’t listen. Because I’m a Skywalker, and that’s what we do, isn’t it? We don’t care about the rules or the reasons or what’s best for everyone; no, we follow our feelings and say that it’s the Force, as if that makes it all okay. I did what I felt was right, and now within a week we’ve lost nearly everything we had; and half of the kids we rescued have been recaptured and might be dead for all we know. And Allana—” Ben reached up to his chest and gripped his shirt between his fingers as his voice began to break. “She has no idea what she’s walking into, and I didn’t listen… I didn’t listen to Tahiri or Myri or anyone because I was too busy pretending I could be my dad instead of being there when she needed me—”

“She needs you now, Ben. Come with me.”

Ben laughed, then – an ugly, mirthless laugh that sounded almost as much a sob to Anakin's ears. “You’re talking about the capital of the whole damn Empire,” he said. “They built their fortress on the ruins of the old Jedi Temple. He’ll be surrounded by his minions; we wouldn’t even get close to him.”

Anakin fought the tremor in his hands and the desperate heat rising in him, that inner voice that screamed at him to take action. “You can’t let her go alone.”

“This wasn’t my choice,” Ben said, flinging his hand toward the energy shield and the stars beyond. “She knows she’s not strong enough to take on any Sith Lord, let alone the Master of them all.”

“That was before she knew he was her father!”

Silence fell between them, and Anakin realized his hands were outstretched, pleading, begging. Ben looked down at those hands, then turned away to stare out at the star-studded black of space.

“She’s going to get killed. Are you willing to stand by and let that happen?”

Ben whirled on him, brow creased by an intense fury. “I’m not just standing by. Did you forget what we’re here to do? I have a duty to protect the Jedi Order. This is where I’m supposed to be.”

“What about your duty to protect your family?”

“I am protecting my family. Stopping the Sith at Bakura and staying far away from Jacen – that’s how I keep Davin and Dolan and everyone safe. My mom died trying to save a group of younglings on Yalena. She gave her life for the future of this Order, and if I put any of its children in jeopardy, then she died for nothing.”

“If we don’t do something, Allana will die for nothing.”

Ben’s face contorted as he turned quickly away. He crossed his arms in front of him, unable to disguise the fact that he was shaking.

“I know you don’t want to do this,” Anakin said as earnestly as he could, right hand still outstretched. “I know you want to save her. Come with me.”

Ben bowed his head and shook it. “I can’t,” he gritted out.

“Why not?”

When Ben finally turned back to face him, his eyes were clouded and fearful. “I can’t face him,” he said, jaw clenched tight. “I don’t trust myself to face him, do you understand?”

That fear in Ben’s eyes… Anakin knew it intimately; he carried it with him at all times. Fear of the dark side, of himself and what he was capable of. Fear of loss, of not being able to protect the ones he loved. He stared into those eyes and saw such a clear reflection of himself in them that he was desperate to look away. Instead, he steeled himself against Ben’s haunted stare and reached a hand out to touch his grandson’s shoulder.

“You’re not him. You’re not me. You’re stronger than us, I know it. I’ve seen it. Help me save her.”

Ben shook himself free from Anakin’s grip. “You don’t know me. I don’t believe what Allana believes, that there’s still good in him. And even if there is, I don’t care.” A sudden and cold fury lit across his face. “I want him to suffer like they did and then die alone and broken. I want the last thing he sees in this world to be me, spitting on his face, right before I stab him through the heart.” Ben’s voice faltered, and the muscles in his jaw and neck flexed as he fought to regain control. “He killed my dad. He took everything from me. I want to return the favor, and I know I shouldn’t. I know what the Jedi way is, and what I want… that’s not it. So don’t ask me to face him, because even if I make it out of there, it won’t be me anymore. And then no one will be safe.”

“Ben, you there?”

Valin Horn’s voice broke in between them, cracking the mounting tension. Ben blew out a forceful breath as he retrieved his comlink with shaking fingers. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Syal wants you on the bridge.”

Ben stared back at Anakin and inhaled deep. “On my way.” He slipped the comlink onto his belt and started to step away from the energy shield. Anakin reached out to catch his arm, but his grandson shrugged him off. “Don’t,” the other man warned, pace quickening as he hurried out of the hangar bay.

Anakin watched him go, realizing that the datapad was still clutched tight in one hand. He looked down at it, the need to act vibrating through his entire body. He held the device up and replayed the end of the message, watching Allana’s face closely as she gazed up at him.

“I’m a Jedi Knight, and this is my destiny.”

The hologram faded, and Anakin stared at the place where it had been. Finally, he flung the device onto a nearby storage container, pacing back and forth as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was the wrong person to do this, Chosen One or not. He couldn’t be trusted to stay calm or detached; this was his granddaughter, his connection to the daughter he would never know, to the wife he still loved more than anything. He’d been willing to sacrifice the Jedi Order for Padmé. What would he do to save Allana?

Would he call on the dark side, if it came to that? Would he embrace the power that lay coiled just beyond his reach, the power he had sampled for so long? He knew he could. It would be all too easy.

For three years the citizens of the Republic had called him the Hero With No Fear, and he had done everything in his power to prove them right. But he hadn’t been able to rid himself of his fear then, and he couldn’t do it now.

Anakin glanced over at a pair of X-wing fighters parked near the Daybreak, absently reaching for his borrowed lightsaber as he did so. His fingers brushed against the metal casing, and a memory came to him unbidden.

“Even if it might feel like losing someone precious to you is too much to bear, you have to realize that you can survive it, and you can keep moving forward.”

Maybe Allana was right; and if she was, did that mean saving her was wrong? Was he supposed to let her go? Wasn’t that what Yoda had been trying to tell him that day not so long ago – and yet somehow it seemed a lifetime had passed since then – as they sat in meditation, caught between shadows and light? Wasn’t that what Obi-Wan had tried to teach him as they observed a shattered star? Life is impermanent. To hold onto something past its time is selfish. Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.

All things die, Anakin Skywalker.

No, he told the insidious, whispering voice in his head. Just because everyone dies, that doesn’t mean it’s her time now. That doesn’t mean I have to let her go without a fight, not when I can still save her.

Sekot’s words returned to him, speaking in Jacen’s voice: “Isn’t it your calling as a Jedi Knight, to be a guardian of peace and justice? To protect those who cannot protect themselves? To be a light against the darkness?”

If he just let someone go anytime the dark side seemed too strong in him, then what kind of Jedi was he really? What kind of hero? What kind of father could he be if he wasn’t willing to face his own darkness and rise above it?

Anakin dragged both hands over his face before looking once more at the X-wings. He was talking himself in circles; the truth was, he didn’t know what the right choice was. He might never know. But he knew what choice he was going to make – what choice he would always make when it came to the people he loved.

~~


When Ben entered the bridge, he found Syal and Valin huddled together at the curved, sweeping viewport, heads bowed over a datapad. Syal had changed into a dark blue uniform, the rank insignia on her chest indicating a much higher position in this loose alliance of rebels than Ben had realized. He stopped at a respectful distance and threw her a lax salute, forcing the encounter with Anakin out of his mind. “Commander Antilles.”

Syal looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, her mouth pressed in a hard line. “Knight Skywalker,” she returned, nodding for him to join her. “We’ve received the latest intelligence report. Looks like the Eradicator is definitely in orbit over Bakura with the rest of the fleet.”

Ben scanned the report, sensing that wasn’t the only reason Syal had called him up here. “What am I looking—” He blanched as his eyes fell on a name listed near the top of the report. Of course, he thought. “What’s Mezzon doing on Krayt’s flagship?” he said, lowering his voice. “He’s never gone anywhere near the front lines in the past.”

“We think he’s using Eradicator as a mobile fortress. More efficient.” Syal’s mouth twisted in a grimace around the word. “Immediate processing of all the Jedi and Force-sensitives they plan to capture.”

Ben almost didn’t read any further, he was so sickened at the thought; but then he saw another name he knew. “Orion Tivas? You’re sure this is right?”

“This came from Myri’s top people. If they’re sure, I’m sure.”

Ben inhaled slowly. “Then the kids who were captured with Orion at Haven—”

“Are being held on the Eradicator, yes.”

He handed the datapad back to Syal. “Who’s leading the rescue?”

She raised one eyebrow. “We thought you would.”

His response was interrupted by a terse voice behind him. “Pilot, that craft has not been cleared for departure. Identify yourself.”

Ben and the others twisted toward the viewport and watched as a single X-wing broke away from the fleet and made for open space. His stomach lurched at the familiar presence in that starfighter…

“I’m just taking it out for a spin,” Anakin said, the forced casualness in his voice not quite masking the hard determination Ben sensed underneath. “Don’t wait up for me.”

The officer at the comm clearly wasn’t amused. “Pilot, that craft has not been cleared. Identify yourself immediately.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and Ben got the distinct impression that Anakin was smirking at them.

“This is Anakin Skywalker. Clear me or don’t clear me; it doesn’t matter. I have somewhere to be.”

Ben stood frozen in place as the entire bridge watched the stolen X-wing disappear into hyperspace. The crew grew still, waiting to see how their commander would react. Syal turned ever so slightly toward Ben.

“Did he just say Anakin Skywalker?” she asked, her irritation and disbelief evident only in the slightly clipped manner of her speech.

Ben felt every eye on the bridge staring at him, but in that moment, he was less worried about the truth of his grandfather’s identity being revealed than he was about what was going to happen when Anakin reached his destination.

“It’s a long story,” Ben said under his breath.

Syal shook her head and looked out at the stars. “Any idea where he’s going?” she said with a sigh.

Ben hesitated for a second, his stomach knotting tighter with worry; but now was not the time to hold back.

“Coruscant,” he replied. “To rescue Allana.”

Syal and Valin both turned toward him in surprise. “What?” Syal said. A few of the crew members turned suspicious eyes on Ben. He tried to ignore them.

“Allana left me a message. She found out the truth about her father and decided to confront Krayt at his fortress on Coruscant.”

Syal and Valin exchanged uncertain glances. “But Krayt is at Bakura,” Valin said.

Ben shook his head. “I’m not sure. My feelings tell me he’s on Coruscant, that this was his plan all along.”

Valin’s eyes were wide. “His plan?”

How could he explain without sounding crazy? He wasn’t even sure how Jacen could have planned it all, but there’d been too many coincidences. Secret enclaves discovered within weeks of each other, Allana learning the truth and going to confront her father on the eve of the first major battle in years.

Anakin following after her, right into the dragon’s lair.

Ben felt a pull in the Force, a call that echoed in a part of his mind he’d long since closed off. It was the place where Jacen had once been, where their bond had taken root and grown. The same place his former master had used to invade him and tear him down from the inside. Ben tried to recoil, tried to throw up every mental barrier he had; but for the first time in over a decade he found himself reaching out across time and space, seeing through his tormentor’s eyes, feeling the pure, twisted joy as the news Jacen had waited so long for arrived.

Ben gasped and pulled back. White light filled his vision for a moment, and he felt several hands on him, lifting him. As his sight began to clear he saw Syal and Valin and several others standing around him. A pair of arms looped around him from behind and began to hoist him up.

“Ben?” he heard multiple voices say. The one behind him was Elias, who must have just entered the bridge; Ben tried to look over his shoulder at his friend.

“Easy there,” Elias said. “You okay?”

Ben glanced at the concerned faces around him. “I think so,” he said.

“What happened?” Syal asked quietly “One minute you’re talking to us and the next you’re on the deck.”

Ben leaned against Elias for support as he got his feet back on the ground. The sick feeling in his stomach returned. “She’s there,” he said, breath quickening. “She’s there, and he knows it.” Why had he left her on Zonama Sekot? He was so stupid; he hadn’t learned anything. He may as well have handed her over to the Sith himself. He tried to sift through the currents of the Force, uncertain whether what he’d seen had already happened or if he’d glimpsed a rapidly approaching future. He couldn’t be sure, but the vision was so immediate, he knew there was nothing that could change it now.

“Ben, did you see something?” Valin asked, grabbing his shoulders. “Ben! What did you see?”

Ben’s mouth went dry. “Jacen is on Coruscant,” he said, “and he has Allana, or he will soon.”

“What about Bakura?” Syal said, still keeping her voice down so as not to frighten her crew. “What’s his plan?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know, I—” And then it was clear. So clear he wondered why he hadn’t put it together sooner. “He needed us apart,” he whispered. “He knew he couldn’t take us both together, and he knew I’d never go to him on my own, not after what he did to me.”

Valin frowned. “So he’s setting a trap for you?”

Ben stared out the viewport at the space where Anakin’s X-wing had vanished just moments ago. “No,” he said. “Not for me.”

~~


“My Lord?”

In the pitch black of his private quarters, Darth Krayt opened both eyes, staring into the nothingness before him. “I told you not to comm until the boy arrives,” the Master of the Sith said softly.

“It’s about the boy, my lord.”

Darth Krayt rose from his bed slowly. “What about him?” he said, voice lowering to a growl.

On the other end of the comm, Sivren hesitated a moment before continuing. “Lords Ferrus and Festus boarded the ship, but the boy was not there. They found the Jedi princess instead.”

“Allana.” The name escaped his lips in a quiet gasp, the first slip of the tongue in many years. If Sivren noticed anything strange about his master’s reaction, he didn’t betray it.

“Yes, my lord. She surrendered herself to them willingly. They are bringing her here and should arrive within the hour.”

Willingly. He was filled with an emotion he hadn’t experienced in over a decade. Something akin to joy, something that resonated in his very bones. Finally, finally, she was coming back to him. He was so close now, so close to reuniting his family. Allana was coming to him, and he would show her a world beyond anything she could imagine.

Of course, they wouldn’t be alone. The Sith Master sensed something in the back of his mind, a presence he’d not felt in years. He smiled in the darkness. As mangled and broken as it was, the bond between master and apprentice was still a two-way street. Ben had shown him everything he needed to know.

“Tell Lord Festus and Lord Ferrus to bring the princess to the throne room when they arrive. And get me Lady Varice.”

“Yes, my lord, right away.”

The comm crackled for about thirty seconds before Darth Varice spoke.

“What is thy bidding, my master?”

“Contact Lord Dominius, and tell him the Rebels are moving to strike at Bakura as expected. When that is done, put our defenses on alert. We’re expecting company.”

“The Jedi, my master?”

The man once known as Jacen Solo smiled as he called his lightsabers to him. He’d been disappointed in Anakin Skywalker the first time around. Time to see if his grandfather could prove why so many had feared him.

“Just one Jedi, Lady Varice. Just one.”

~~


Ben turned the lightsaber over in his hands, running his fingers over the scored and battered hilt. Despite all the abuse it had taken – banging against its master’s hip day after day, being dropped and thrown more times than anyone would care to count – it still endured, still shone like a beacon in the dark. He had never wielded it himself; in truth, he’d never felt worthy. Once the Sith abandoned Yalena, he returned for his mother and found it lying next to her in the rubble. Both of them cast aside, like garbage. He took her body with him, gave her a proper funeral, and put the lightsaber away.

Beside him, Artoo whistled. Ben turned the lightsaber over again and stared at the switch beneath his fingertips.

“I’m not them, Artoo. I can never be them.”

The droid’s response was a sad, muted warble. Ben stood and slid the saber back into its place in Artoo’s dome. He was about to sit back down when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door slid open, and standing on the other side was Tahiri.

Ben tried to breathe through the knot in his chest. “Here to say ‘I told you so’?”

Tahiri stepped into the room and rested a hand on Artoo’s dome, eyebrows furrowing. “Not at all.”

Ben sat down on the edge of his bed and folded his arms across his knees. “She thinks she can redeem him.”

“The way your dad redeemed Vader.”

Ben shook his head, staring ahead at the bulkhead. “This is exactly what Jacen wants. Anakin is walking right into a trap.”

“Maybe he already knows that.”

Ben rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Am I a coward?”

“What? Why would you ask that?”

When he finally looked up, he saw something like heartbreak in Tahiri’s eyes. He tried to look away but found that he couldn’t.

“Why can’t I face him?” Ben asked. “My dad was able to. Aunt Leia and Jaina were able to. My mom would have if she hadn’t been looking after me all those times. Even my messed-up, time-traveling grandfather is going after him. So why can’t I?”

Tahiri was silent, and he felt the weight of that silence crushing down on him. He stood abruptly and turned away from her, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said after a moment.

When she spoke, Tahiri’s voice was hoarse. “Do you?”

Ben nodded and began to pace. “You warned me about excluding Allana, and now she’s as good as dead. I’m supposed to be her master, and I don’t even have the strength to save her.”

Tahiri took a small step toward him, just enough to get him to stop pacing. “What I’m thinking,” she said, “is that you have more strength that anyone I know.”

Ben’s throat felt thick, like he might choke if he tried to speak. He shook his head. “You’re wrong,” he managed to whisper.

Tahiri’s smile was unexpected. She reached out and touched his elbow. “You have been through hell and back more than once, Ben Skywalker. You have endured things most people couldn’t imagine in their worst nightmares, and you survived. You survived, and you pressed on, and you’ve become a leader and protector of the Jedi Order. Not because of some birthright, but because of your compassion and your wits and your wisdom. If all that isn’t strength, then I don’t know what is.”

Ben blinked several times, searching for the words to refute her. “Tahiri, I—”

“Ben,” she cut him off gently. “I know what Jacen did to you. I know about the Embrace.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, willing himself not to go back to that place. When he opened them again, he fought to keep his hands from shaking. “How did you know? I never told—”

“I could never forget the marks left by the Embrace of Pain. As soon as I saw them on you, I knew.”

Ben bowed his head. “I was so ashamed,” he said through gritted teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to think that way, but I couldn’t help it because deep down I knew it was my fault.”

“Nothing that happened was your fault, Ben. Jacen betrayed you.”

“I should have known better.”

“How could you have?”

“I don’t know!” He dropped onto his bunk and slumped against the wall. “I don’t know.”

Tahiri sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. “Ben, I want you to look at me and listen.”

He did as she said. Sharp green eyes stared into his, softened once again by heartbreak. He realized suddenly that her sadness wasn’t for anything she had lost – it was for him, for everything he’d suffered.

Tahiri took a deep breath. “You are not a coward. You were tortured by a man you trusted. You were traumatized, Ben, even if you never realized it. No one in their right mind would expect you to confront Jacen after what he did to you. You are not – nor have you ever been – a coward. Jacen is the coward.”

He remembered the agony of the Embrace, the burning in his blood, and before he could stop himself, he found himself giving voice to the deepest, darkest urgings of his heart. “I want to kill him,” he whispered.

Tahiri raised both eyebrows and glanced away for a second. “You’re not the only one.”

“Tahiri.”

She looked up at him, and he held her gaze, the words shaking inside of him, rattling at his rib cage, desperate to tear down the walls he’d erected around his most inner self. He was terrified of being known, of letting her see the darkness in him; but he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I want to kill him,” he said, unprepared for the yearning he heard in his own voice. “I dream about it, Tahiri.”

She reached up without warning and took his face in both her hands, as he’d seen her do with Davin and Dolan ever since they were small. As his own mother had done, long ago. And she smiled at him, a sad, knowing smile. “At the end of the day,” she said, “it’s what you do that matters most. Your choices. Your dreams don’t decide who you are, Ben. You do.”

She released him, then placed one hand over his heart. “You’re not going to make the perfect decision every time. But I trust this heart more than just about anything or anyone living. You need to trust it, too.”

He wanted to believe her; he really did. “You make it sound so easy.”

“I wish it was,” she said, lips curving in a rueful smile. “You can’t hide from the choice, Ben. You look it square in the eye, and you tell the dark side to go to hell, because you serve the light or nothing at all.”

It didn’t banish his fears, not by a long shot; but he couldn’t help laughing just a little. “Is that your Vong half talking?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yuuzhan Vong,” she corrected with an affectionate, if long-suffering, smile. “And you know perfectly well that I’m not half-anything.”

“No,” he said. “You’re definitely not.”

She pulled her hand away from him and crossed her arms in front of her. “What was it Han always used to say to us?”

“‘Never tell me the odds’?”

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. “No, not that.”

Ben thought of Uncle Han, and for a few seconds, he felt the warmth of his arm slung across his shoulders. “‘Just one step at a time’.”

Tahiri shrugged up at him. “That’s all any of us can do.” She took a step toward the door, then turned back. “Whatever choice you make, at least give me a little warning? I think we’ve all had enough Skywalker theatrics for one day.”

He knew it was meant as a joke, but now all he could think of was Anakin and Allana and the fate that awaited them on Coruscant; that thought still clawed at his heart. “Will do,” he said quietly as he watched her open the door. “And thanks, Tahiri. Thanks for putting up with me.”

She looked back at him one last time. “Always, kiddo.” Then she was gone.

Alone once again, he sat down on the edge of his bunk and pulled out his comlink. Artoo watched him, optic sensor following his every movement. Ben sighed and stared back at the droid for a moment. Then he flipped on the comlink.

“Elias?”

There was a long pause, but his friend finally answered. “I’m here, Ben. What’s up?”

His eyes were still on the little droid. Artoo dipped his chassis forward just a fraction, in what Ben knew to be an approximation of a nod. He took a deep breath, steeling himself.

“Elias, there’s something I need you to do.”

~~


Allana spent the journey to Coruscant shackled to her seat. Her captors stayed close by, although not as close as she’d initially feared. The revelation that she was their master’s daughter seemed to have had the desired effect. Darth Ferrus sat in the seat to her left, pretending she didn’t exist, while Darth Festus had taken the seat directly across from her and looked like he was trying to bore a hole in her skull through sheer force of will. As long as he stayed away from her, he could stare all he liked.

“How much longer, Yaanis?” Ferrus sounded irritated. Allana watched him out of the corner of her eye as the Rodian pilot responded.

“About thirty minutes, my lord.”

Allana lowered her eyes. My lord. As if they weren’t just a few years older than her.

“What are you smirking at?” Festus said, his voice dangerously low.

Allana composed her face quickly. “Nothing.”

“You think you’re so much better than us, Your Royal Highness?”

She met his stare and said nothing as an old memory tugged at the edge of her thoughts. A boy kneeling before her, smiling as he handed back the stuffed toy his brother had stolen from her. She hadn’t thought of that day or that boy in a long, long time – even now it seemed more dream than reality. She could hardly believe the eyes staring back at her belonged to that same boy.

“You know I don’t think that,” she answered quietly.

He didn’t blink as he continued to watch her. “What do I know, Allana? You think you’re gonna tell me what I know? What do you know?”

She didn’t answer, and she refused to look away. Maybe it was foolish to do so; maybe he would interpret it as a challenge, but she refused to be cowed by him, no matter who he was now.

A muscle in his cheek twitched, and for a few seconds she thought he was going to lunge at her. Instead, Festus leaned lazily in his seat, adopting the seemingly careless mannerisms he’d displayed before their fight on Vjun. “I’m still having a hard time believing this new information about our Lord and Master,” he said, directing his comment toward his brother.

“A very hard time,” Ferrus said in agreement.

Festus turned his pale blue eyes back on Allana and smiled a smile that absolutely did not belong on someone so cruel. “We were led to believe your father died in his failed attempt to overthrow Lord Krayt.”

Allana quirked one eyebrow. “Then it seems you were misled.”

The smile widened, and Festus rose from his seat, crossing the gap between them to sit in the empty chair to her right. She continued to look straight ahead as he leaned in close to her ear.

“I know you’re bluffing, Princess. But I’ll play along for now, because in thirty minutes you won’t have anything or anyone else to hide behind.” He grabbed her by the chin and turned her head so that their faces were only centimeters apart. “And you’ll wish your friend had let me finish you off on Vjun.”

She tried not to flinch at the barely restrained viciousness in his voice. They were empty threats, she told herself. Empty because she knew the truth that Festus refused to accept. In thirty minutes, she’d be reunited with her father. Maybe it was that thought that gave her the boldness to challenge him.

“Perhaps, my lord. But if you are wrong and I am right, then you might regret that I stopped my friend from killing you that day.”

Something in Festus’s expression shifted for a second, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, smoothed over and hidden beneath a carefully constructed veneer. “So confident,” he said quietly as he released his grip on her chin. He examined her face for a moment, then retreated to his seat across from her. As soon as his back was turned to her, Allana opened her mouth and exhaled as slowly and inaudibly as possible.

They spent the remainder of the trip in relative silence. When the ship finally entered Coruscant space, Ferrus moved to the front of the craft and stood just behind the Rodian pilot. Allana craned her neck to see out the viewport. The city-planet was teeming with life and activity, as it had been for centuries. Even the war with the Yuuzhan Vong had not kept it down for long. Did the people here feel the unrelenting and merciless grip of their Sith overlords? Did they know what it was like to live from day-to-day, not knowing if it might be their last?

For the first time, Allana wondered if her quest might not be in vain after all. This didn’t feel like a world crushed by tyranny. And if her father didn’t see himself as a tyrant, would he feel any need to renounce the dark side?

“Shuttle Ferocity, you are clear to land in Hangar Six One Seven.”

The voice on the comm startled Allana from her thoughts, and she blinked several times as her eyes focused on the building coming into view. Its black spires seemed to swallow all light around it, bathing the entire fortress in shadow. Allana shivered, hugging her arms against her body.

“Are you afraid, little princess?”

She found the end of her braid and rubbed her fingers absently over the soft plaits. He was there; she could feel him reaching out to her. At first, she shied away from his mental touch. It felt so strange. So cold and distant. Nothing like the man she had known. But slowly, tentatively, she stretched out with her feelings and felt something familiar. A warm edge to the chill. A hand on her cheek. A promise whispered to her and to her alone.

“No,” she told Festus. “No, I’m not afraid.”

~~


The holofeed for Hangar 617 showed three people walking down the shuttle ramp. Darth Ferrus and Darth Festus stood on either side of their prisoner, a slight, redheaded girl who surveyed the hangar bay like a queen sizing up her subjects. When they reached the end of the ramp, they were met by Lord Krayt’s personal aide.

“The Master has ordered you to take the girl to the throne room at once.” Sivren’s voice was a little staticky, but the twins’ shock was clear.

“Surely there’s no need for the Master to involve himself,” Festus said quickly, pulling the prisoner toward him. “We can extract whatever information he needs from her ourselves.”

The Lesser shook his head. “Lord Krayt was very insistent, I’m afraid.”

The twins followed behind Sivren, Festus with his hand still wrapped around their captive’s arm. He exchanged a confused glance with Ferrus, and the two boys appeared to have some kind of silent disagreement as they led the princess out of the hangar.

The Sith Master drew a steadying breath as he shut off the holofeed. He stood from his throne and gazed out at the rapidly darkening sky.

Soon, he told himself.

He didn’t have long to wait. In almost no time at all, he heard a gentle whir as the turbolift ascended and slowed to a stop. On the other side of the room, the lift doors opened.

His daughter had come home.

~~

 

You knew perfectly well she would


Dang it, have I seriously not left feedback here yet? Just when I thought I was almost caught up....

 

@Mira_Jade

Just keeping you on your toes, Mira.

The ultimate praise, right here!

Heh, just a little bit. And again, this is a version of Jacen that I find infinitely more terrifying than any rage monster version of him, so I'm glad you're seeing him the way I see him.

This scene has been in my back pocket for years, and I thought it was fitting that I would post this chapter the same week that I started posting the decathlon of death. Totally a coincidence, but I'll take it!

But I love that Luke came across that way. This story has necessarily been focused on Anakin and Ben and the younger generation, and I know Luke hasn't had a huge presence in this story; but I knew when he did show up, it had to be momentous. I'm glad it didn't disappoint!

All I will say for now is that I love this response, and I'm so excited to see what you think of the developments to come...

BATTLE COUPLE FTW! (Plus Luke )

It seemed appropriate.

It had to be done, Mira.

If there was one good thing about writing Luke's death, it was in finding the words to describe how incredible he was, that his death would have such an impact not only on those around him, but on the Force itself.

I'm glad the enormity of the situation came across! The action in this story has been hyper-focused on the Jedi because those are the characters we've been following, but there really is a whole galaxy of people out there who have been dealing with this war, and there are still plenty of them willing and able to fight. I've loved bringing them all together, and I hope it doesn't disappoint!

I tinkered with the phrasing here quite a bit to get it just right, so I'm glad you liked it!

He's just been bottling everything up for so long, and he was so sure before going to Vjun that it was the right thing to. (Which... I still say it was the right thing, because they saved a dozen kids who otherwise would have died shortly after, and just because things went wrong later on - through no fault of his own - that doesn't negate the good Ben did.) But yeah, now that they've lost more enclaves and a bunch of those kids from Vjun ended up captured again, (like Tahiri warned him, sorta) and now Allana has gone right into the heart of enemy territory... that would be too much for most people, I think. Ben is really at his breaking point here.

I do love me some no-win scenarios, apparently. But when you think about it, everyone has their own reasons for doing the things they do, and I enjoy trying to approach arguments like this from both sides and not backing away from the complexity of it by painting one side as definitively "wrong" and the other as definitively "right".

I know, it's hard to believe Ben would ever give in to those darker urges; but at the same time, his family and friends might have said the same thing about Jacen long ago, and Ben's already seen how that turned out. The hardest thing is trusting himself, that he can handle that darkness any better than his former master did. There's just such an awful legacy hanging over him in the form of Vader and Krayt, and even though there's more good than bad in his family tree, it still casts such a long shadow.

*rubs hands together* Right on the precipice of understanding, all too true! And isn't that the same knowledge Vergere once imparted on Jacen, that you could never know the outcome of every decision, and being indecisive sometimes wasn't any better than making the wrong choice... so you have to choose, and then act on that choice, and be willing and ready to face the consequences of your decisions and accept responsibility for them, whatever they may be. And that's not to say that you can do terrible things as long as you're willing to accept that you've done them - as the post-NJO profic seemed to interpret those teachings - but rather that you should act from the good inside you, to make the best choice that you can with the information you have, and don't berate yourself for not having seen that another choice might have been better.

Or at least, that's how I took it.

One of the unexpected joys of writing this story, showcasing the awesomeness of the Antilles family, and showing how Luke and Wedge's friendship continues on in its own way with Ben and Syal and Myri.

The doctor really might be the most horrific of all my OCs. I'm looking forward to revealing how this rescue mission plays out. (And it might be especially poignant after reading "Night Must Fall" in my Ben decathlon. )

You know, I almost didn't have him say his name. For a long time, I thought his identity would never come up again, and everyone would forget that he'd claimed to be Anakin Skywalker at the beginning of the story... but then as I wrote this scene I was like, "nope, he's held back long enough and he doesn't even care anymore." Skywalker theatrics, am I right?

I love him so much.

Syal just doesn't even have time for this nonsense.

He doesn't even realize here how brave he is, to hold onto that connection long enough to get any information, when he has every right to never want to be in Jacen's head again.

When I think of how much he misses Mara and Luke and wishes he could live up to their example, without realizing that he already is...

THIS. ALL OF THIS.

Someone had to say it! And he needed to hear it!

Gah, isn't Tahiri awesome?! This is the Tahiri I expected to see in the post-NJO era. But they didn't give her to me, so I had to write her myself.

That particular line is one that I wrote way back when I was first writing this story, and it ended up being used in a slightly different context, but as I finished writing this scene between Ben and Tahiri, this line suddenly popped back into my head, and I had to use it. I've always loved the line, so I was excited to that I got to keep it.

But this whole scene I just felt was so crucial for both Ben and Tahiri, individually and together as friends/siblings/teacher-and-student. I'm so pleased to see the impact it had on you.

Well, what can I even say to that except wow, that's just so cool. Especially since, unlike Allana, Tahiri and Ben were much more established in their personalities in the EU. (Especially Tahiri.) I know I wouldn't even recognize Tahiri or Ben (or Allana, probably) if I were to go back and read LotF or FotJ, but honestly? That's fine with me, because I love these versions of them. They will forever be the real versions to me, so it's amazing to me if anyone else feels the same way about them, even a little bit.

I may not have references to the older generation very often, but when I do, I try to make it count.

Right? Ferrus is irritated and Festus is a creep, what else is new?

I'm sure the added context you've gotten from reading the other vignettes and sequel/AU snippets only helped to enhance this scene, hmm?

ME EITHER, MIRA. (Clearly, because I keep writing about it over and over again. )

Yep, she definitely won that one.

And when you remember she's just a 15yo girl, too.

Just wait until this next chapter, Mira... My poor baby Allana, deep down she's just a little girl who wants her father back.

I just love writing their twin bond in all its forms.

As always, I'm so happy to hear that I've done a good job with those parallels.

Ask, and you shall receive...

Prepare yourself, Mira... it's happening.




@Gabri_Jade

I'm glad I'm so predictable. Wait... should I be glad about that?

No worries, babe, you just got distracted by my decathlon of death. Totally understandable.




Next chapter, coming right up!

 

~~

Chapter Twenty-One


The hangars of the Harbinger were a flurry of activity, and as Arden helped Elias carry supplies to the Daybreak, she couldn’t help looking around in awe. Rebel technicians buzzed around the starfighters, prepping them for combat, while their pilots finished pulling on flight suits, inspecting their gear, or in some cases, chatting idly in the shadows of their ships. It was difficult to judge what the overall mood was. Not fully hopeful, but nowhere near defeated.

Arden very carefully set down a case of detonators. “I didn’t know there were so many rebels out there,” she said. “The holofeeds always made it sound like the resistance was a dying, scattered group of terrorists.”

Elias looked at her over his shoulder and grinned. “Pretty impressive, huh? Syal really outdid herself, scraping this whole fleet together.”

“Commander Antilles,” Arden corrected, shaking her head. “I didn’t see that coming. She seems so normal.”

Elias raised an amused eyebrow. “Normal?”

Arden stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I never could have imagined becoming friends with a fleet commander, is all.”

“I do know what you mean,” Elias conceded. “That’s how I felt when Ben and I became friends and he started introducing me to his family and all of their friends.”

Arden smiled at him, at the hint of awe in his voice. “You’ll have to tell me all about that sometime.”

He smiled in return. “Yeah.”

A group of pilots jogged past them, and overhead a comm unit blared, telling all personnel to report to their stations. “You think we’ll make it through this?” Arden said once the comm unit fell silent.

Elias took her hand in his. “I hope so. But if we don’t—”

“I love you.”

She hadn’t meant to blurt it out so abruptly, but she had to say it now, before they were swept up in the battle, before it was too late.

Elias gathered her fully into his arms and lifted a hand to her cheek. “I love you, too,” he murmured. She tucked her head under his chin, turning so she could listen to his heartbeat, feeling the strength of his embrace. This was where she belonged. She would never doubt it again. When she finally pulled back to look up at him, he lifted her off the ground and kissed her.

She wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted. Five seconds, maybe ten. When they came up for air, Arden heard a sound behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Kohr and Ames pretending to wipe away tears.

“So beautiful,” Kohr said with an equally fake sniffle.

Ames thumped his chest with his fist. “Really gets you right in here.”

“All right, all right,” Elias said as he set her back down and attempted to wave the boys away.

Kohr was grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t stop on our account,” he said.

Arden smiled at the two young Jedi. It was good to see how well Kohr was recovering – seemed it took more than a head wound to keep him down. Ames had been by his friend’s side almost non-stop since Vjun.

“So what are your orders?” Arden asked them.

Kohr and Ames shared a mischievous look. “We’re with you on the Daybreak,” Ames said.

“Where we belong,” Kohr added.

Arden nodded and looked up at Elias. “Now we just need our fearless captain to round out the crew.”

Elias’s smiled faded a little, and he reached up to run a hand over the back of his head. “Ben’s not coming with us this time.”

“What?”

“Why not?”

The speakers boomed again, drowning out any more questions from Kohr and Ames.

“All flight crews, report.”

Elias sighed. “That’s us. Come on.”

“But who’s gonna fly this thing?” Kohr asked.

“Me and you.”

For a few seconds, Kohr stared at Elias like he’d suddenly sprouted wings. Then a wide, victorious grin spread slowly across his face. “Now that’s more like it.”

Both boys began to chatter back and forth excitedly as they picked up the case of detonators Arden had set down, and carried it up the ramp to the Daybreak, all while Elias warned them to please not blow up the ship. She was distracted by the sound of footsteps behind her, and she turned to see who it was.

One of the Jedi Knights – the council member Jysella Horn, if she was remembering right – led a group of about a dozen soldiers. She stopped next to the Daybreak and nodded at Arden before turning to Elias. “I brought some volunteers,” she said, sweeping a hand to indicate the soldiers. She offered a smile, but there was a hard set to it that reminded Arden of the dangers they’d soon be facing.

Elias surveyed the strike team. “Good. We’re going to need everyone we can get.”

Jysella nodded in agreement. “Is your crew ready?”

Elias put his hands on his hips and lowered his head to hide a small smile. “We’re still waiting on one more, actually.”

Arden looked over at the assembled crew and strike team. “Who?”

Her question was met with an eager stream of warbling beeps, followed by an indignant wail. The strike team parted down the middle, and Ben Skywalker’s faithful astromech droid rolled up between them.

“There he is,” Elias said with a grin. “Now we’re all set.”

Next to him, the hard line of Jysella’s mouth softened just a little. “The most invaluable member of any fighting force.” She reached out a hand to brush across the droid’s dome. “You ready to go, little guy?”

Artoo rocked side-to-side on his legs, chirping as rapidly as an overly excited monkey-lizard. Jysella looked up at Elias and Arden for clarification. Elias glanced over at Arden and shrugged before turning back to the older Jedi. “Pretty sure that means ‘yes’.”

As the strike team boarded the ship and got settled, Arden went to the cockpit with Elias, where Kohr was already in the pilot’s seat, running through the pre-flight check. All around them, ships’ engines started to hum to life, the pulse of their energy beating a rhythm against her senses, like that of gentle, rolling waves. She wondered, briefly, if it was anything like what Elias felt when he reached into the Force and connected with the energy of the universe. She wasn’t really sure why, but she hoped it was.

After about ten minutes, they received their clearance, and the Daybreak lifted off the hangar floor. Arden and Ames sat behind Elias and Kohr, watching the painted white durasteel of the Mon Cal cruiser give way to the deep black of space. Every ship in the fleet was turning away from Troxar, lining up to make the jump into hyperspace.

“All groups,” Syal Antilles said over the comm, “assume attack coordinates, and prepare to make the jump on my mark.”

It seemed as though everyone in the Daybreak – no, in the entire fleet – took a collective breath. Through the viewport, Arden watched the stars stretch and bend around them as they entered hyperspace.

“No turning back now,” Elias murmured. He looked back at Arden, and she reached out to take his hand in hers.

The trip to Bakura wasn’t long, and as soon as they came out of hyperspace, Arden saw why the Bakurans had been so desperate for help. The Sith fleet had completely encircled the planet; everywhere she looked, she saw their warships. The biggest ones – the massive, black Star Destroyers – were so numerous they blocked out much of the light from the planet’s surface. It was more like a swarm than a fleet. A powerful, angry swarm waiting to consume anyone who came too close.

“All wings report in,” one of the squadron leaders ordered.

The leaders of each squadron sounded off in turn. When it came time for Blue Squadron – their squadron – a familiar voice answered. “Blue Leader,” Myri Antilles said, in as serious a tone as Arden had ever heard her use, “standing by.” If the sight of the Sith fleet didn’t bring home the enormity of what they were facing, hearing the gravity in Myri’s voice would.

Elias looked over his shoulder at her. “Ready?”

Arden stood and glanced over at Ames. Then she leaned forward to place a kiss on Elias’s cheek. “Don’t fly too crazy,” she said.

Kohr turned in his seat and grinned up at her. “No promises.”

Ames punched his friend in the shoulder, and then Arden followed him from the cockpit as they made their way to the ship’s laser cannons. Arden climbed up to take the dorsal cannon, while Ames slid down the ladder to the ventral guns.

“This is it,” Arden murmured, flexing her fingers against the turret controls as her targeting computer came online.

“Squadron leaders,” their commander said with cool, fighter pilot determination, “you are clear to engage.” There was a momentary pause where the line stayed open. Arden thought she heard an intake of breath.

“May the Force be with us.”

~~


“My lord, Rebel ships have entered our sector.”

Darth Dominius turned his head just enough to acknowledge Captain Bateer with a nod. “Ready your fighters. Every last ship is to be deployed.”

The Zeltron captain bowed at the waist. “As you wish, my lord.”

When he had gone, Dominius looked over at the two Sith Lords who had joined him on the bridge. Lord Satrus he knew from their shared youth on Korriban. He was human and didn’t speak much – by choice, not for lack of intelligence or opinion – and he handled a lightsaber better than just about anyone living. If the path of the Sith had allowed for friendship, then Satrus might have been the closest thing Dominius had to a friend. As it was, he considered the man to be a formidable ally.

His companion was a tall, crimson-skinned, Lethan Twi’lek woman named Darth Incendi. Dominius hadn’t seen her in many years; she had spent most of the last decade on the front lines of the war, embroiled in the Inner Rim sieges. He didn’t know her well, but he’d heard she was utterly vicious in combat. When he looked into her eyes, he saw a fire burning there that could never be quenched. He could certainly appreciate being sent such a ruthless and single-minded ally to aid him in the Jedi Hunt.

Dominius smiled. “My friends, it is time for us to end the plague of the Jedi once and for all.”

Lady Incendi let out a deep, delighted growl. “What would you have us do, Lord Dominius?”

“There is a group of Jedi on the planet below that needs eradicating. We will use them to draw in the other Jedi, then we will wipe them all out.”

“Sounds like fun,” Lord Satrus said in a tone that might have been gentle but for the malice underneath.

“Excellent.” Dominius gestured toward the walkway that spanned the length of the bridge. “Shall we?”

His new companions followed him as he led them from the bridge to one of the troop transport hangars. Once there, they were met by a commander in full black body armor and three new Lords fresh from Korriban. The commander snapped a quick salute.

“The walkers and troops are loaded and await your command, my lord.”

“Very good, Commander.” Dominius craned his neck to inspect the heavily modified AT-AT towering directly over them. Then he looked over his shoulder at Satrus and Incendi. “My friends, I believe this is our ride.”

~~


The first wave of Rebel starships crashed against a wall of Sith fighters. There had to be at least five enemy ships for every Rebel pilot. Tahiri might not have minded those odds if there wasn’t so much at stake.

The Happy Ho’Din shuddered as a laser blast glanced off its shields. Ulin made a quick course correction and winced as several warning lights began to flash. “Easy there, sweetheart,” he said under his breath.

Tahiri shook her head and braced herself against the control panel. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. There were still a lot of enemy ships between them and Bakura, and Ulin wasn’t exactly known for his piloting skills.

As if sensing her thoughts, Ulin looked at her sidelong and grinned. “Don’t count me out yet, Master Jedi.”

Tahiri laughed as another laser narrowly missed them. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But let’s see if I can’t clear the way a little.” She closed her eyes, and the sounds around her began to fade. The creaking of the ship, the hum of the shield generator straining to keep up, Ulin’s one-sided conversation with the Ho’Din… it all dulled until the only thing she heard was white noise, soft and unobtrusive. Then she raised her right hand toward the viewport and concentrated on the space in front of the ship.

In her mind’s eye she saw the incoming laser blasts bend to avoid the Ho’Din. She twisted her wrist, splaying her fingers as she did so. In response, the Sith fighters that attempted to cut across their path were sent spiraling out of control. She sensed Ulin’s surprise, but he continued to fly toward Bakura.

The enemy was really starting to notice them now. Instead of a fighter here and there, Tahiri sensed them coming in groups of three and in quick succession. She gritted her teeth, trying to hold the barrier she’d created with the Force. Another trio of fighters was circling around them to catch them from behind. She twisted her body to the side and raised her left hand toward the rear of Ulin’s ship. She wouldn’t be able to hold this much longer. They had to get through.

Luminous beings, she reminded herself.

She allowed her awareness to expand, encompassing not just the space around the Ho’Din, but the space all around Bakura. Warships and corvettes and fighters filled with allies and enemies alike, and though her sense of them was as different as day and night, they all shone in the Force. She wondered, briefly, if that was part of some greater truth; she knew, in fact, that it was. She’d known a man once who put his heart and soul into that truth, who believed all was one in the Force, that all life was connected and had worth simply by virtue of its existence. That belief had helped end a war and broker peace.

Look what’s become of us, Jacen, she whispered into the vastness of the Force, as life was snuffed out around her in flames, in silence. Is this really what you wanted?

She shook her head, knowing he would never hear her, and that even if he did, he wouldn’t answer. Beside her, she felt the tension in Ulin’s body as he leaned forward over the controls, narrowly dodging another laser blast.

The starfighters behind them exploded, and Tahiri opened her eyes in time to see the familiar black hull of the Daybreak shooting past them on their left. She dropped her hands and opened the comm channel. “Nice of you to drop by, Blue Five.”

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun, Blue Two,” Elias shot back.

Tahiri exchanged a quick look with Ulin. “You remember your orders, Elias?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Elias responded. When he did, the mock bravado was gone. “Yes, Master.”

Tahiri stared ahead at the planet looming ever larger in the viewport. “We’ll be fine without you. Your mission is just as important.” She’d grappled with this decision – who to send, whether to go with them. But she was needed down there, on the planet’s surface, so she had to trust that Elias and his crew would be enough.

“You can do this, kiddo,” she said, reaching into the still place that had once bonded them, that still bonded them. “The Force will be with you.”

“Always, Master.” His ship’s engines flared as the Daybreak peeled away, turning against the tide of the battle.

“He’ll be okay,” Ulin said without looking at her. “He’s strong. Gets that from his teacher.”

Tahiri put a hand on the slicer’s shoulder. “You’re not getting all sentimental on me, are you, old man?”

He reached up and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Never,” he replied, holding on for a few seconds before letting go. Maybe she would have to treat him to dinner sometime, if they made it out of this alive.

Now who’s getting sentimental? she chided herself.

Ulin angled the Ho’Din toward the planet’s surface and entered its atmosphere with more turbulence than Tahiri would have liked. There was no time to worry about it, though. In a few minutes they would be on the ground, trying to lead a rescue mission in the middle of a battle. To say nothing of the Sith Lords who would no doubt be hunting for the Jedi enclave at the same time.

There were so many ways for this plan to go horribly wrong. She tried to push the thought of them from her mind.

“Blue Group, this is Blue Leader. Make for the rendezvous point.”

The other members of her squadron – a ragtag bunch of ships if ever there was one – began to converge on the rendezvous point. It was a less-trafficked spaceport on the southern side of Salis D’aar, Bakura’s capital city. Not the safest option but certainly more practical if they were going to find their friends before the Sith did.

Ulin landed the Ho’Din outside one of the docking bays. Tahiri patted the lightsaber at her hip and looked over at the slicer.

“Ready for this?” she asked.

He flashed a wry smile as he held up his datapad and his bag of tech. “You bet.”

They exited the ship, and Tahiri saw the other members of Blue Squadron doing the same. Valin and Myri jogged toward her, leading a squad of Rebel soldiers and a few older Jedi apprentices.

“Is this everyone?” Tahiri asked.

“Looks like it,” Myri said, adjusting her cap so that it was just slightly askew. She pulled her blaster out and held it up to her shoulder. “Now let’s go liberate some Jedi.”

The younger members of the group cheered, but Tahiri was distracted by the roar of ships’ engines. She looked up as a trio of X-wings made a pass overhead. The apprentices and soldiers cheered again, waving at the fighters as they chased down a pair of enemy scout ships. In the distance, she saw one of the Sith’s largest landing craft setting down, and she sensed a well of darkness within, eager and focused. Tahiri pressed her lips in a thin line and laid her hand across the hilt of her lightsaber. For better or for worse, they were coming to the end of their struggle.

~~


From the time she left Zonama Sekot until the moment she stepped into the turbolift, Allana had run through at least a dozen possible scenarios, trying to imagine what it would be like to see her father again. To say that she was surprised when the lift door opened on a room that looked like it belonged on Zonama Sekot or one of the old Yuuzhan Vong worldships, rather than in a modern Sith Temple, would have been an understatement.

The air here was oppressively humid, a product of the vegetation that covered nearly every surface of the room. A carpet of soft grass stretched before her, climbing what looked to have been a set of stairs; it terminated in a mass of yorik coral that had been shaped to resemble a throne. There was no gentle Zonaman breeze to provide relief, and already she felt her clothes sticking to her skin. It was particularly noticeable where Festus held onto her.

If she was startled by the strange, dimly-lit throne room, then the Sith Lords on either side of her were completely stunned. Festus in particular seemed to have an almost visceral reaction to the room, or maybe to his dear master, who she realized was standing at the massive window just beyond the throne, completely devoid of the vonduun crab armor he was famous for as he gazed out at the twilit cityscape. Festus tightened his hand around her arm in a motion that seemed more reflexive than deliberate, and she found herself wondering what exactly had set him on edge.

Darth Krayt turned away from the dusk-colored expanse of sky, and Jacen Solo’s eyes landed on her. There was nothing in his face that revealed any kind of happiness or satisfaction, but through the Force she felt him crackle with anticipation. The warmth she sensed earlier was still there, and even with Festus holding onto her and Ferrus towering over her, she breathed easier.

“Well done, my apprentices,” her father said, his voice still a bit deeper than she remembered. “Leave us. Lady Varice has your next assignment.”

Ferrus bowed his head and began to turn away, but Festus didn’t move. Allana’s momentary sense of relief began to evaporate.

Her father’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Is there something wrong, Lord Festus?”

The hand that held her released suddenly, and Festus took a quick step backward. “No, my lord.”

The Sith Master strode over to the top of the staircase, face impassive as he stared down at them. “You are startled by my appearance.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, my lord.” For once, Festus sounded every bit the eighteen-year-old boy that he was. Allana found the fear in his voice a lot less satisfying than she would have thought.

Her father shook his head, and she was struck by how much he reminded her of Ben in that moment, dealing with a difficult teenager. “Don’t lie to me, Festus. You know I can always tell.”

She risked a glance back at Festus, who had bowed his head. “Yes, my master.”

“Kneel.”

He obeyed quickly, and as he did, Allana saw his eyes dart over to the perimeter of the room. That was when she noticed a grotesque organism suspended from the ceiling, its many branchlike appendages spread wide as if awaiting an embrace.

Her father descended the stairs, stopping three steps from the bottom. “I had thought you would be pleased to see me again, after all these years; but I sense your unease, my young apprentice. Are you upset that I’m not who you thought I was?” He raised a hand toward Festus. “Shall I sort through your mind and find out?”

Allana stood frozen in place, watching the scene unfold. Even though she knew that she wasn’t in imminent danger, she felt distinctly that Festus was on the knife’s edge of oblivion. His eyes rose to meet her father’s, and in them she saw dread and – to her surprise – shame. Then the air around her went cold and still, and her father slowly lowered his outstretched hand.

“Festus,” he said, his voice so quiet. “Tell me you didn’t.”

The young Sith Lord started to shake his head. “Master—”

“I could have forgiven you anything else. You know that, don’t you? Anything else.”

Festus’s response was a whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, you did.” Her father’s presence seemed to expand around them, a frigid wave of power, a glacier melting from within as old rage began to burn. “Just because you thought I was dead, that didn’t make her any less my daughter. I thought you were loyal to me?”

“I am.”

“You remember what I saved you from, Festus. Before I ever wore Krayt’s armor, I spared you, and this is how you repay me? By attempting to kill my child?”

Allana thought of what she’d said to Festus on the shuttle, that he might regret not dying on Vjun. She’d only said it to get him to leave her alone. She hadn’t considered that her father might actually kill him.

Roan’s words returned to her, small and scared: “He hurts everyone else.”

Festus looked up, and Allana saw tears gathering in his eyes. “I’m your servant,” he said, soft and trembling. “I didn’t— I would never betray you. You gave me life – you gave me purpose.”

Her father’s face was impassive as he studied his kneeling apprentice. “Yes, and you have fulfilled that purpose, by returning my daughter to me. As I knew you would.”

She could see Festus was still struggling to grasp the meaning of those words when his brother stepped forward. “My lord,” Ferrus said quickly, looking uncertain whether he should kneel as well, “we live only to serve you.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she was almost glad to see Ferrus defend his twin. Her thoughts flitted briefly to Davin and Dolan, safe on Zonama Sekot. What would her father do if he knew where to find them, the only children of his own twin? She went cold thinking of it.

“Ah, Lord Ferrus.” Her father took another step down, head turning slightly to acknowledge the taller boy. “Finally showing some initiative. Even if it is too little too late. Now, step back, or share your brother’s fate.”

Ferrus didn’t move for a moment, until Allana noticed Festus lower his eyes and give a barely perceptible head shake. Then Ferrus stepped backward, head bowed and fists clenched tight at his sides. Allana could feel him burning hot in the Force, so hot it was searing. Between that and the humidity and her inability to sense most of the organic life around her, and then the fear that assaulted her senses in its place… she felt herself trapped in the most surreal of nightmares, casting about for anything that might snap them all out of it.

Her father lifted his hand toward Festus once more, and she could feel the power he summoned to him, the crushing weight of it channeling through his fingertips as he took hold of his apprentice. “I am sorry, my little shadowmoth,” he said softly, a bit sadly. “You became what I needed you to be. I wish it could have been otherwise. I suppose it’s only right that I should be the one to end your suffering.”

Allana’s heart raced as she watched her father’s outstretched hand. She hadn’t been there to prevent his fall to the dark side – that was why she’d reached for Anakin on Vjun, pleading with him to spare a Sith Lord’s life. She hadn’t been able to sit by and watch him make the same mistakes, not when she could do something about it.

Now there was no fall to prevent, no scales to tip one way or the other. Her father had already descended so deep into the pit, one more murder would scarcely mean a thing. It certainly wouldn’t save his soul if she stopped him from carrying it out.

She could say nothing. In reality, it probably didn’t make a difference what she did. If her father wanted to kill someone, he would do it regardless of her interference.

A Jedi – her grandmother had told her once, long ago – uses the Force for knowledge and defense.

Defense. Not just defense of the Order and its allies, or the people she loved, or the ones deemed worthy, but of all life.

She looked down at Festus, then, still kneeling on the coral-crusted ground, and she no longer saw the twisted Sith Lord who hated her very existence. Instead, she saw a boy not much older than she was, a boy who’d been stolen away and robbed of whatever future he might have had, and was it really right for him to die now just for doing exactly what he’d been trained to do? What he’d been raised to do? She didn’t think she could forgive Festus for trying to kill her, but she also wasn’t ready to watch her father murder him.

She stepped between Festus and her father, and then she said a word she hadn’t spoken aloud in many years – the only word she could think of that might stop Jacen Solo dead in his tracks:

“Daddy.”

Her father’s brown eyes went wide, and his hand lowered a fraction. Allana took a deep breath.

“You got what you wanted,” she said gently. “I’m here. Let him go.”

The whole room was so quiet, she could have sworn she heard every breath between them. Even the background noises – the temple’s air filtration systems, the speeder traffic outside, the wet, gasping, hissing sounds of whatever Yuuzhan Vong organisms her father had hidden in the shadows – seemed to silence.

“He would have killed you,” her father murmured, breaking that silence.

Her next breath felt impossibly heavy. “I know.”

“Do you know? Do you understand what you’d be allowing to live?”

“Yes,” she said, “and I’m still asking you to spare him.”

The Master of the Sith lowered his hand, eyes cold as he glared down at Festus. “Leave us,” he growled.

Allana risked a glance over her shoulder and saw Festus staring not at her father, but at her, eyes narrowed in fury and confusion and something else she couldn’t quite place. His brother grabbed him under one shoulder and yanked him to his feet, muttering indecipherably under his breath as he pulled Festus toward the turbolift.

His eyes never left hers, and there was an intensity in that stare that made her wonder, briefly, if she hadn’t just made a huge mistake. She decided it didn’t matter now. She’d made her choice, and she knew in her heart it was the right one.

When the turbolift doors closed and she was finally alone with her father, Allana turned to face him. What she wasn’t prepared for, though, was the smirk on his lips.

“There’s no one else who could stand in my way like that,” he said quietly, with a hint of amusement. But Allana wasn’t ready to play either of their actions off as some kind of joke.

“I guess there had to be some benefit to being your daughter,” she replied, not quite managing the hard edge she was trying for.

Her father let out a small laugh, and the sound of it made her wonder how long it had been since he’d uttered such a noise. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this day,” he said with a sigh.

She shook her head, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor, and maybe a little thrown by the fact that he was standing right in front of her, almost close enough to touch. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

He tilted his head to the side, sobering just a little. “I know.”

“This whole time… you’ve been alive this whole time, and you never…” She didn’t want to finish that thought; it felt wrong to even think it, to admit that even up until his supposed death, she’d wanted him to come back for her.

He crossed the divide between them and took her face in his hands, the expression on his own shifting back and forth between exhaustion and delirious joy. “You have been in my thoughts every day for the last fifteen years.” She caught fragments of thought tumbling out of him – my child, my baby, my daughter, my light – but she didn’t know if they’d broken past his carefully constructed walls or if he was feeding them to her purpose.

His hands were warm against her cheeks; she wasn’t sure why she’d thought they would be otherwise. She considered pulling away. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? Another chance to be in his arms, to love him and be loved by him, to be a family?

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you,” he said, his thumbs brushing gently across her cheeks.

She realized then that her face was damp with tears, that something was cracked and aching inside of her, that whatever she’d expected to find here, it wasn’t this. She was supposed to fight for him, win him over to her side with the strength of her love and her belief, thaw the frozen reaches of his heart by reminding him of who he used to be. It seemed like utter nonsense now – a child’s fantasy she should have been too hardened to hold onto, but she did anyway. He hadn’t forgotten anything; she could see that now. He loved her just as much as he always had, maybe more. And still. In spite of that love – because of that love – he had done all of this.

He wasn’t tricked, nor had he stumbled blindly into the darkness.

He chose it.

She shook her head, staring straight into his eyes as he held onto her. “How can you think I would want to hear that?” Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as the words tumbled out. “Why would you tell me… am I supposed to be grateful? Am I supposed to be okay with what you’ve done?”

His grip on her tightened – not to hurt, but to hold her closer. “No,” he said gently, a sad smile on his lips. “If you were, you wouldn’t be my daughter. My Allana.”

There was a part of her that still wanted to fling her arms around him and feel the strength and safety she’d yearned for all her life. The other part told her to pull away, and she did. He didn’t try to stop her.

Free of his grasp, Allana took two steps back. “What do you expect me to say?”

He held his hands out at his sides and exhaled slowly. “Whatever you want to say.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is. It’s just not the one you want to hear.”

“I don’t know what I want to hear. I don’t even know what I want to say!”

“Do you want to hear that I’m sorry? That I wish I could take it all back? That I love you more than my own life?” He advanced toward her, hands outstretched. “Even if I say all those things, even if I mean them, even if you believe me… does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

“Does it? Does it change anything that’s happened?” He swept one hand toward the massive window, as if to encompass all of Coruscant, or maybe even the whole galaxy. “Does it change our reality?”

His words closed in around her, a trap waiting to be sprung. “It changes my reality,” she said, small and pathetic.

“You mean it makes you feel better. It makes me more palatable as a father if I’m conflicted. But that doesn’t have anything to do with my actions. The universe doesn’t care if I have regrets.” He stepped within arm’s reach and brought a hand up to her chin, holding it gently. “You thought you could redeem me. You have no idea how much I love you for that. But your efforts are in vain. There was never any outcome other than this.”

Tears continued to prick at her eyes. “I can’t accept that.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you can accept it. I am sorry, and I do wish all this suffering could have been avoided. But I love you, more than my own life. More than any life. So I made a choice.”

“You’re saying this is my fault?”

“No, Allana, the fault is mine. Mine alone.” He brushed a few loose hairs from her forehead. “You are perfect. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who wasn’t strong enough.”

Allana shut her eyes to block out the tenderness in his gaze. “I should never have been born.”

Pain and anger stabbed through the Force. Once again, he cradled her face with both hands, his fingers hard as durasteel. “Never say that. Not ever.”

“You ended up replacing me though, didn’t you?” She was casting about now for something, anything, to hurt him with, to wound him as he had wounded her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t mean it, that she would never give Roan back for the world.

Her father gave her a disturbingly paternal look. “Allana. You know that’s not what happened. And while I admire your attempt at manipulation, it’s really not your strength.”

She bristled at that and pulled away again. “How would you even know?”

“Because we are connected in a way that defies time or distance.” He reached out with one hand, gesturing back and forth between them. “Our bond is written in the fabric of the Force and in the blood we share. I know you because you’re mine, as you’ve always been, and always will be.”

Allana shook her head. “You say you love me so much, but what about my mother? Was she so easily forgotten?”

“No,” he said after a moment that seemed to stretch on and on. “No, It wasn’t easy in the slightest. I loved your mother. I still love her, even though she betrayed me. Even though she kept you from me. Roan’s mother was the least depraved of Krayt’s followers and the closest thing I had to a friend on Korriban. We used each other to survive, for a time. But love her, like I loved Tenel Ka? Never.”

“Do you love Roan?”

For the first time, she saw what looked like genuine hurt in his expression. “Yes.”

“Then why would you allow him to grow up surrounded by evil? He’s terrified to come back. He hates it here. How can you justify that?”

“It’s not the life I would have chosen for him, I’ll admit. But I have shielded him from the worst of this world. He may hate it, but he has stayed good when he could have turned out so much worse. You need only look at Lord Festus to see the difference.”

She shook her head again, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Stop it. He’s not lord of anything. Your Sith abducted him and twisted him—”

“They weren’t mine—”

“You’re saying you’re not responsible for how he turned out?”

Her father went very still, and his face was suddenly a dark mirror, reflecting nothing, revealing nothing. “I never said that.”

He turned away from her for a moment, and she watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took a slow, deep breath. Then he turned to face her once more, his expression still neutral. “I’m very much to blame. I could have taken Festus and Ferrus and all of those other children far away from there, but I didn’t. I chose to stay.”

“Why?” she found herself asking.

Her father shrugged. “Many reasons, I suppose. Because I’d lost everything, and I had nowhere better to go. Because I was curious about the mysterious allies who’d betrayed me.” He paused for a moment. “Because in the wake of my defeat, I had a vision of a pair of twins – disciples of the Sith – who would lead me back to you.”

She tried to speak, then, but nothing came out. Her father continued.

“When I finally came across them and realized they’d been Jedi children, I thought they’d know a location where I could find you, but they didn’t. At first, I was frustrated; but I learned a long time ago that visions don’t always happen the way you think they will, and I knew I had to be patient. So I kept them alive, and I kept them close.”

Allana realized she had her hands clamped over her mouth. She lowered them slowly. “Great,” she whispered, hardly able to speak past the lump in her throat. “One more sin I’m responsible for.” She reached up to scrub away the tears that had started to fill her eyes. “You’re never turning back, are you?”

“No,” he said simply, “I’m not.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and raised her chin, calling upon every ounce of strength she possessed, even though she knew how ridiculous her request would sound. “I want to go home,” she said quietly.

The air grew still around him. “That’s not possible.”

Allana opened her eyes, staring up at him as he stepped closer to her. “I can’t stay here. Not after everything—”

“You misunderstand,” her father interrupted. “You’re not leaving this chamber.”

And over his shoulder, she saw something move – the organism she’d glimpsed earlier, suspended from the ceiling, the one she’d caught Festus looking at as he kneeled. Its appendages flexed, opening wider; and suddenly she knew exactly what it was, and every instinct screamed at her to run.

Her father moved before she could react, wrapping his hands around her arms and pulling her toward him in one swift, powerful motion. He faced the organism and began to carry her in that direction.

“Daddy, no—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding her flush against him as he dragged her toward the organism. “I can’t let you go again.”

“No, please, don’t put me in there—” She struggled uselessly against his durasteel grip, panic beating furiously in her chest. “—Daddy, please—”

He forced her away from him, pressing her back up against the living rack; and the Embrace of Pain began to wind its branch-grips around her legs, her arms, her waist, her neck…

He held her face in his hands, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. “This is the only way,” he murmured, thumbs brushing across her cheeks to catch her own tears. “I need you to be safe. I need you to understand why I did this.”

Allana felt a great sob sticking in her throat, eight years of loneliness and sadness and pain coalescing in one moment of violent betrayal.

“I’m scared,” she cried out, ragged and weak, choking on her tears. “Daddy, please.”

He was crying openly now as he shook his head. “It won’t hurt much, I promise. I promise.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep now, little one.”

He placed a thumb on the center of her forehead, the rest of his fingers cradling the side of her face, and then all she knew was white.

~~


Jacen Solo let out a heavy sigh as he wiped tears from his face. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel much of anything – it was necessary, in order to do what needed done – and this sudden outpouring of emotion was proving to be much more draining that he’d expected.

He gazed at his daughter – his daughter – and lifted a hand to stroke her hair, her cheek. She was nearly grown, but he could still see the little girl she’d once been. The same little girl who had beamed with joy when he finally told her he was her father, who had climbed into his lap and held onto him as if she never wanted to let go. Who had trusted him when no one else did.

She would hate him for this, he knew that. She had every right to. But he would take no chances, not when he was so close to the end. He was never letting her go again.

A spasm coursed through her, and several strands of copper-colored hair fell across her face as her head lolled to the side. He reached out to tuck them behind her ear, then he leaned in to kiss her forehead again.

“I will fix this,” he whispered, though she was unlikely to hear him.

An electronic tone from the wall-mounted comm – one of the few things in the room not overgrown by Yuuzhan Vong biots – signaled an incoming message.

“My master,” Lady Varice said. “The Jedi’s starfighter has entered the system. We’re preparing to engage.”

Master of the Sith… Yun-Yammka, the Slayer, and Yun-Shuno, the Pardoner… warrior and philosopher… light of the Jedi, eldest son, last hope, brother, heretic, savior, traitor… he’d filled so many roles for so many years, even after deciding not to tie himself down to anyone else’s perception of who he ought to be. But he was good at playing those roles, he’d found. And they’d all been necessary in their own way.

Darth Krayt would have made things as difficult as possible for the Chosen One, the man destined to become Lord Vader. Darth Krayt would have forced Anakin Skywalker to prove himself over and over again. But right now, Jacen Solo was tired, and his daughter was in pain, and he’d waited long enough for this battle.

“Call off your forces,” he ordered. “Let the Jedi come.”

There was a very long pause. “Let him come, my lord? Unimpeded?”

Jacen inhaled deep, unable to look away from his precious child. To think that he’d nearly lost her on Vjun, without even realizing it. That knowledge gnawed at him still.

He turned slowly away from Allana to face the comm. “Tell Lord Festus and Lord Ferrus that their orders are to guard the tower at any cost. Everyone else, stand aside. Do not engage the Jedi.”

Another long pause, though this one held less hesitance and more dark amusement. “As you wish, my master.”

~~

 

You know, as far as I'm concerned, early NJO Jacen was a tool, and post-TUF Jacen was a tool. Sith Jacen was the biggest tool of all. I'm still kind of amazed that they expected us to buy that idiot destroying the galaxy. But your Sith Jacen? He's pretty terrifying.

Luke is the best

I like this "I'm not going to defend Vergere, but even she wasn't this rotten" attitude here. I always remember Luke and Mara being horrified over what Jacen went through, and trying not to show it because they didn't know how Jacen would react, and how Mara specifically said she never wanted Vergere to be anywhere near Ben.

For someone who hates writing action as much as you do, you sure do it well

Every single time, I remember the detail - was it from that early drabble you showed me? - of Mara screaming when Luke died.

QUIT MAKING ME SAD, VI

(Also, Jag's POV when every other person in that ship had a dramatic and sudden Force-sensitivity-induced breakdown, pls)

Nope

There's the Anakin Skywalker we all know and love

He actually does have a point here. The fact that most of the Skywalkers take that responsibility seriously and have the skills to handle a lot of potential fallout doesn't mean it's not a risky thing.

Can't say as I blame him here

This showboating doofus

I SAID QUIT MAKING ME SAD

Aw, Tahiri

Our wise young Jedi Master

I just keep picking quotes that showcase how awesome Tahiri is, because awesome Tahiri is awesome

These creepy dorks

Seriously, imagine telling ANH Luke and Han that someday people would be awed to meet them or their kids or grandkids

Hello there, Civil War Sam and Bucky. Guys

More awesome and insightful Tahiri, yes, more of this non-sad-making content, pls

Oh, dear

Shadowmoths everywhere

Yes, Leia passing down the wisdom of the ages, and Allana taking it to heart, this is good

This is entirely solid reasoning, good girl, Allana

This is very good and awful, why are you like this, Vi

Nope, not even going here, I said quit making me sad

Yeah, just wait until you see the next chapter

This is how I tell Vi a particular part of an upcoming chapter is extra good when I'm betaing, I tell her that Mira is going to have to pace

 

He put his own daughter in the Embrace of Pain?

 

@Mira_Jade

It was a seriously epic reply, and I loved every word of it.

Aw, that makes me so happy that you feel that way! I know I joke about the angst, but my goal in writing this story was never to make the darkest story ever or just write angst for angst's sake. This story is as much a reaction to the direction the profic took in the post-NJO era as it is a love letter to my favorite film series of all time.

I love them so much.

We've been so hyper-focused on the Jedi for most of the story, but there's still a whole galaxy of people who've been living under the oppression of the Sith, so I'm glad this moment felt appropriately epic to you.

You know I'm always glad to hear when I've done well with setting up a battle. For all the wars in Star Wars, It really is the emotion and drama and even humor in those scenes that draws me in and keeps me coming back for more. What's an amazing visual without the heart and the characters to go with it?

I'm so pleased to hear that. I was a little worried about introducing even more characters so late in the game, but I wanted to hammer home that - just like with the Rebel forces - there's a whole army of Sith and their followers who have been stretched out across the galaxy, and a bunch of them have been called in to deal with this situation.

Fun fact: Way before he was ever cast as Galen Erso, I imagined Mads Mikkelsen as Darth Satrus, using his portrayal of Tristan in the 2004 King Arthur film as a model for the character. He was just such a quiet badass in that movie, with what I thought was a unique fighting style, and I figured that would make an interesting Sith Lord character. Although I guess he hasn't featured much in this story, so idk...

I did really like imagining this scene.

I've so loved writing Tahiri in this story, and it wouldn't have been a complete portrayal if I didn't call back to the fact that she and Jacen had been friends once and had gone through such traumatic experiences together. When I think of all the wasted potential of the post-NJO era... ugh. Both of these characters deserved better.

This is one of those relationships that has been part of the fabric of this story from the beginning, but coming back to the story so many years later and expanding on the Yalena backstory have allowed me to give even more depth to Elias's character and to his master-apprentice relationship with Tahiri, and I really love it. Even though he doesn't have the most dramatic character arc within EtF itself, I'm so proud of where he ends up.

Originally, it was a more straight-up RotJ/RotS-style throne room, and then eventually it became a bit more Vong-like as I introduced certain elements to the final battle... and then I amped it up even more when I came back to write this scene this year. I'm pretty happy with the results.

This is perfect.

When I decided to lean into the Vong jungle aspect of the environment, I realized it had to be, you know, kinda like an actual jungle. So I'm glad that detail stood out to you.

You know, now that I've written this chapter and the rest of Festus and Ferrus's arcs in this story, I can't imagine how I ever thought it would go any differently. A year ago, I didn't know quite what to do with them in the final part of the story, and then the sequel popped into my brain; and after working on that for a month, I came back to EtF and wrote a little bit from what will be ch. 23... and it was after that that I wrote TLotD and then WtWS... and the rest has been a domino effect of awesome that brought me back to this scene. It actually sort of pains me to think of how the finale of this story would have played out if I hadn't taken such a long hiatus and then got sidetracked by Allana and the chaos twins. EtF isn't their story by any means, and I've tried not to derail the narrative by making it so; but without all those spin-offs leading me deeper into the history of this world, we never would have gotten anything close to this scene. Brains are really amazing.

Excellent.

Right? Uuuuugh.

It's so terrible, because on the one hand, Jacen kind of has a point. He did save Dorian’s life outright in HTBM, and trying to kill Allana is pretty poor repayment for that. It shouldn't have mattered whether Jacen was dead or alive...

...on the other hand, Jacen didn't step in to help this boy when he could have, not really. He may have facilitated his release from the doctor, but Dorian is the one who freed himself by becoming what he hated, by becoming a killer. And then, as Krayt, Jacen continued to nurture Dorian’s darkest impulses and set himself up as his savior... so of course Festus is going to go above and beyond to do whatever he thinks will please his master, even if that means killing the daughter of someone who helped him once upon a time. (And even if that girl was someone he'd cared about in some small way, long ago.)

It's so tangled, and then when you add in Jacen’s revelation about the vision he had...

The amount of restraint Ferrus had to show there, my gosh... especially when you think of how much he resented Caedus back when they were kids.

It really is terrible, to not be able to trust that your own father won't do something horrible to the people you love.

HE IIIIISSS!

(so maybe Dorian is still in there somewhere?)

This is a brilliant summation of everything I wanted to convey here. I do think Jacen cared for Dorian in his own twisted, neither here nor there sort of way; and I do think he truly regrets what he's about to do. But that doesn't change how awful his actions are or how horrific the betrayal is, especially after everything Dorian was twisted into becoming.

I was thinking about what it means to be a Jedi, and what aspect of being a Jedi Allana might best embody, and I thought of Yoda's teachings in TESB... and I really loved the idea of those words Yoda spoke to Luke being eventually passed on to Leia, until she one days repeats them to Allana. Sort of like how Tahiri repeats the "luminous beings" line - I love having these little threads connecting this generation of Jedi back to Yoda.

I LOVE HER SO MUCH, MIRA. THIS PRECIOUS GIRL!!!

(Also, I listen to that song during just about every writing session now. )

I'm so, so pleased that you felt this way, because throughout the writing of all these vignettes and short stories, from WtWS all the way to IDWD, this is the moment I knew would make sense of it all. Not just in a shipping sense, but for Allana herself. Now you've seen the moment where (in my eyes at least) she acted as a true Jedi Knight, not by winning a lightsaber duel or defeating an army or blowing up a starship, or even lifting rocks or X-wings or whatever... but by showing compassion and mercy, and defending someone who couldn't defend themself. In WtWS, Allana wins the fight because of her heart, because of the decision she made right here, in this moment.

(But let's be real, sometimes you do have to win a lightsaber duel, and we've got some of those coming up, too...)

"I didn't want the scene to be over so soon" is sweet, sweet music to my ears.

Right? That says a lot right there. And pretty damn hypocritical, too.

YAAAAAASSS, reread all the things! Your response makes me so glad I left the references in those other stories just vague enough. I know how fun it is to reread stories and find all the clues and references I didn't notice before or didn't have a complete understanding of, and I so enjoyed doing that with my own stories.

And as you know, Festus is going to be reeling from this day for quite a while.

He did learn manipulation from a master.

Yeah, it's pretty bad. Allana really was so out of her depth here.

Does she ever! Now it remains to be seen whether the evil author will allow her to have one...

He's so messed up, Mira.

Hee, I'm glad you liked that. I pictured Jacen looking like a normal father here which... yeah, that would be disturbing in this context.

Don't mind me, just trying to undo a tiny bit of the damage profic did to this ship. Not that this is necessarily much better, but hey. It's a dystopian future, what do you expect?

Right?!

I think it's totally understandable in this instance.

The Lord thing really is a sick joke. They were all of sixteen when Jacen bestowed that title on them, and just... I really don't have any other words right now for how messed up that is. And I'm not going to defend all of the things these two have done, both before and after this story, but yeah. It's so twisted.

I will say, Jacen didn't go in-depth about all of his reasons for staying on Korriban, but that doesn't mean any of them were good reasons.

She's so heartbroken and he's so matter-of-fact.

It was difficult to write, believe me.

Though I do enjoy getting this particular reaction from you, hehe.

Not inspiring a lot of confidence, is he?

Lol, I have to say, I'm glad that you're still intrigued by Jacen here, even while being aggravated. That's exactly the response I'd hoped for. As for his reunion with Anakin, well... it'll be intense for sure, and I do hope you enjoy it!

Oh, but in the best way!

Yay! I'm so happy to hear this. As always, I can't say how much I appreciate and look forward to your feedback each and every time. Thanks for continuing along with me on this strange and twisty journey! And now, new chapter incoming!




@Gabri_Jade

Well shucks, Gabri, obviously you know how much that means to me.

He iiiiiiiiissss.

I definitely think that was the right reaction on their parts, yikes. I reread those parts of DW a few months ago, and I had a visceral reaction to their reunion with Jacen and their response to finding out about his torture. Ugh.

I don't think Vergere was ever meant to be a Sith or an evil darksider. She was different and morally ambiguous, but ultimately she wanted to end the war without destroying either civilization; so, in a way, she was still serving her oaths as a Jedi (as she saw them). I can't ever say what she did to Jacen was right, but I can understand why she thought it was her best and quickest option at the time. And I really doubt she would ever agree with what Jacen has done in this story. Kinda goes against everything she taught him in Traitor, despite what certain profic authors and TPTB would have us think. Still, when I wrote the scene in TLotD, where Dorian confronts the doctor, I was definitely inspired by a similar scene between Jacen and Vergere. Ultimately, that scene ended up skewing a bit more in the direction of RotS Anakin and Palpatine, but again, I think that's pretty telling.

Daaaawww.

And part of my aversion to action scenes is the fact that I think mine are awful and that everyone else is going to realize I don't know what the heck I'm doing. So it helps to be reassured that they aren't, in fact, awful.

I had to think about this for a few minutes because I knew exactly what you were talking about, and then I remembered! It was actually in ch. 7, when Ben is telling Anakin about the past. He has a brief moment where he remembers Luke's death, and that detail of Mara screaming was part of it.

I'm sorry! (But also... )

I'll put that on the list with the "Mara and Ben post-Luke's death/pre-Yalena" vig.

Trash King.

He has a very valid point, you're right. You know how much I love my no-win scenarios/arguments, Gabri.

It's good that he's so aware of the danger he would be to others if he were to fall, but at the same time, you can't let that awareness cripple you, otherwise you're helping no one. (Which Ben eventually realizes.)

"...with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted at invincibility..."

...or however that quote from the RotJ novelization went - it's been a while since I read it.

.
.
.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Annoyed and brooding teenagers, so predictable.

And hey, maybe someday people will see Elias that way, too.

Lolol I love them.

I think I can promise more of Tahiri being awesome.

You know, this might be the only shadowmoth reference in EtF. But still, looking at my greater body of work... fair. (I will never be over Stover's genius in creating that metaphor or how perfectly it also applies to the relationship between Jacen and Dorian. And given that Jacen was the one who first heard the story and internalized it, is it any wonder that he sees it in his experiences with his own student?)

Like I was telling Mira, I really loved the idea of Yoda's wisdom passing to Luke, then to Leia, and then ultimately to Allana. This was as much a moment of connection with her beloved grandmother as it was a connection to all the Jedi who have come before her.

My precious cinnamon roll.

I don't know, Gabri, but if it makes for a good story, I can't say I'm sorry.

Not gonna lie, that part was hard to write.

I love that this is how we communicate.




@JediMaster_Jen

He did.



And here's the next chapter, guys!

 

~~

Chapter Twenty-Two


Anakin Skywalker wasn’t a fool, and though he was occasionally painted by the Republic propaganda machine as the brawn to Obi-Wan’s brains, those who followed him into battle knew that he was a skilled and daring strategist. He knew a trap when he saw one. And this was most definitely a trap.

The remainder of the Sith fleet in orbit over Coruscant had only just started maneuvering to intercept his X-wing fighter when they suddenly backed off, returning to the patrol patterns they’d been maintaining before spotting him. When he flew closer, a few of the enemy starfighters actually veered away from his path, avoiding him as though ordered to.

Of course they’d been ordered to. This was what Jacen wanted. He’d said as much on Vjun, hadn’t he? The full, extraordinary power of the Chosen One…

Yeah, this was a trap, all right. And Anakin had always been pretty good at springing traps. Even if he hadn’t been, he didn’t have much choice. Allana was down there, and he was going to get her back. Anakin angled his fighter between the two closest Star Destroyers, buzzing past one of their bridges, and began his descent toward Coruscant.

Like so much of the galaxy in this time, the capital of the Republic – no, the capital of the Sith Empire, he reminded himself – felt wrong to him, as if its very essence had been altered. He supposed that was quite literally true in Coruscant’s case; Ben had told him how the Yuuzhan Vong had reshaped the ecumenopolis in the image of their annihilated homeworld, renaming it Yuuzhan’tar and changing its orbit to make it a suitable jungle environment. And even though efforts had been made after the war to return the planet to its former glory – not that Anakin had ever found it particularly glorious, however awe-inspiring the sight of it might have been – there was still much of Yuuzhan’tar left behind in the planet below.

Anakin guided his starship through the atmosphere and was greeted with a sight that, while different, still resembled the old Coruscant in many ways. Neon lights flashed against the deep blue backdrop of night, reflecting off of unending streams of speeder traffic that weaved around glittering skyscrapers. And in the place where the Jedi Temple had once stood, there now rose an angular black fortress whose forbidding spires nearly disappeared against the dark sky.

He met with no resistance as he guided his ship to one of the Sith Temple’s landing pads, just as he met no resistance upon entering the fortress and beginning his ascent to the top of the tallest spire. He could sense Jacen’s minions lurking close by, no doubt confused by their master’s orders to let him pass. Anakin was still a little surprised that his grandson hadn’t sent someone to face him. That would have been more consistent with the Sith Master he fought on Vjun, trying to push him to his limits and beyond. He wondered what was waiting for him in the tower.

He could feel Allana up there somewhere. Though it was strangely muted, her agony still bled into the Force, assaulting his senses. He ground his teeth together and forced himself to focus.

As he neared the center of the temple, he heard voices ahead, the sounds of an argument.

“—really going to pretend that didn’t just happen—”

“The hell do you want me to do? We have our orders—"

“Screw our orders, we don’t owe that traitor anything!”

Anakin turned a corner and found himself staring down a narrow corridor with a single turbolift at the end. In front of that elevator were two dark-haired human males. The taller of the pair was pacing back and forth and looked on the verge of violence, while the other watched, hardly moving at all.

Their arguing ceased as they turned to face him, and rage flared in Anakin’s chest as he recognized them, recognized the shorter one who had nearly killed Allana on Vjun. Festus, she’d called him; and though the boy stood completely still, the current of the Force was chaotic and frenzied around him, floodwaters beating against a crumbling dam. He let out a short, barking laugh.

“Look who it is, brother,” Festus said, grinning too wide for his face.

The taller boy – Ferrus, he assumed – cracked his knuckles and glared at Anakin. “Great. Fair warning, Jedi: we’re in a really bad mood.”

Anakin drew and activated his borrowed lightsaber, the emerald blade casting an eerie glow over the corridor. “I thought I already dealt with you two,” he said, swinging the saber at his side.

The Sith activated their own lightsabers in perfect unison, and Festus made a casual, sweeping gesture with his blade. “You’re not the first person to tell us that—”

“—and you won’t be the last,” Ferrus finished.

They sprang at him, spreading out to attack from either side. Ferrus barreled directly into him, battering Anakin’s blade with his own while Festus dropped into a slide and slashed at his legs. Anakin pivoted out of the way and caught Festus under the chin with a hard kick. Without pausing, he deflected Ferrus’s next strike and shoved back with his full weight, sending the boy stumbling backward. Then he raised both hands, throwing Festus and Ferrus against opposite walls, pinning them in place.

Anakin looked from one twin to the other. “I really don’t have time for this,” he said with a growl.

Ferrus grunted as he tried to break free of Anakin’s Force grip, but Festus just laughed again. “Don’t you want to finish what you started last time, Jedi? Do you know how easily I could have killed her? Maybe I’ll get another chance at it, after you fail to save her.”

His mocking words burrowed under Anakin’s skin, eating away at his already tenuous calm. He didn’t have time to deal with both young Sith Lords at once, that was true. But maybe just one…

He released his hold on Festus; no sooner had the shorter boy dropped to the ground than he was hurtling forward, meeting Anakin blow for blow as they circled each other in the narrow corridor. Anakin ducked under a wide swing and deactivated his saber, striking Festus across the face with the hilt. Before the boy could recover, Anakin tossed his saber to his left hand and made a fist with his artificial right, smashing it into the Sith Lord’s jaw. Then he kicked him hard in the stomach and sent him crashing to ground.

“I’ll kill you, Jedi!” Ferrus roared from behind him, straining against Anakin’s hold. “You’re dead!”

Festus staggered to his feet, lightsaber melting durasteel as it dragged along the floor beside him. He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his wrist, and grinned. “That the best you’ve got?”

He charged forward and swung his lightsaber again; Anakin ignited his saber and caught the crimson blade with ease, rolling his wrists just enough to tear the weapon from the Sith’s hands. Festus lunged at him, drawing a knife hidden in his left sleeve, slashing at Anakin’s stomach. The Jedi weaved his way past the jagged blade, knocking it from the boy’s hands; then he grabbed Festus by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

“You are beaten,” he growled.

Festus stared back at him, eyes wide. “Do it, Jedi,” he whispered. “Finish it. You know you want to.”

“Shut up, idiot!” Ferrus screamed. He was strong; Anakin could feel his dark energy lashing out, desperate to break free. He wouldn’t be able to hold him back much longer, not with his attention split like this.

He squeezed the fingers of his bionic hand, felt them press against his enemy’s throat. It wouldn’t take much; the enhanced strength in his prosthetic was more than enough to crush a human windpipe. When he thought of Allana’s face, tear-stained and shoved into the filthy rug of that ballroom… it wouldn’t take much at all.

Festus gasped for breath, but he didn’t struggle. His eyes were squeezed shut, and Anakin saw tears slip down his cheeks; and he remembered how Allana had pleaded with him on Vjun, how Padmé had pleaded with him before her death, begging him to stop, to come back to her…

He released his hold on the Sith Lord, and the boy collapsed to the ground while his brother continued to scream all manner of threats. Festus reached for his knife and found it, swiping blindly at Anakin; but the Jedi swept one arm to the side and sent both brothers smashing into the wall. They fell in a heap together, unconscious.

Anakin let out a breath, squared his shoulders, and strode forward to enter the turbolift. As the lift closed and began to ascend, his heart raced. There was something very wrong above him, something about the room, or maybe the tower itself. Cold dread settled upon him as he realized the only thing he could clearly sense about the room was that Allana was in it.

The turbolift stopped, and the doors parted to reveal the most bizarre throne room Anakin had ever seen. It was lit by globes of bioluminescence like those on Zonama Sekot, and just about every surface was covered with vegetation. Mucous membranes along the walls and ceiling; carpets of long, wild grass that climbed a wide staircase at the center of the room before spreading out along the perimeter; and splitting those stairs up the middle, a path crusted with a coral-like substance. Beyond the staircase, was a massive, curved window and a throne made of that same coral.

Despite the organic and alien nature of the room, Anakin was struck by a sense of familiarity. For one terrible instant, he was back on the Invisible Hand, Palpatine seated upon high, Count Dooku’s headless body lying before him.

“Welcome, Grandfather.”

Anakin twisted toward the sound of Jacen’s voice, somewhere to the right. At first it was too dark to see, but after a few seconds he could make out two figures in the far corner of the room. Instead of the armor he’d worn on Vjun, Jacen was dressed all in black, in clothing of a vaguely military cut. He appeared so much smaller than he had before. Hardly the larger-than-life Master of the Sith who’d defeated him. Even from this distance, he could see the weight of age and experience that separated this Jacen from the version of him Sekot had impersonated.

Anakin’s eyes shifted to the apparatus Jacen was standing beside. His stomach churned when he saw Allana strapped to it. No, not strapped. The apparatus – the organism – was holding her in place with gnarled, fleshy appendages that resembled the branches of a tree. She was alive but unconscious. It took everything in him not to instantly run to her rescue.

“What the hell is that thing?” he growled, heat rising up in him with every breath. “What are you doing to her?”

Jacen frowned and placed a hand on Allana’s forehead. “I’m keeping her safe,” he said gently. As he spoke, he caressed the side of his daughter’s face. “And helping her to understand. The Embrace of Pain can be a great teacher as well as diviner. It set me on my path; it can do the same for Allana.”

Anakin’s mouth went dry. The Embrace of Pain? Why hadn’t Ben ever mentioned this?

Jacen’s lips cracked in a faint smile as he looked away from Allana. “You know nothing of this, do you? I see I wasn’t the only thing Ben kept secret from you.”

Anakin’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his lightsaber as understanding caught up with him. “You… you did this to him, too?”

Jacen’s expression shifted once more from vague amusement to an almost wistful sadness as he returned his gaze to Allana. “I only wanted what was best for him. What was best for our family.”

Anakin’s gut twisted. Jacen hadn’t just fallen to the dark side – he’d lost his mind. He’d been ready to face the relentless Sith Master he’d fought on Vjun, with his smug superiority and fearsome strength. But this demented, delusional man before him, who seemed somehow more pathetic and more threatening? Anakin didn’t even know where to begin.

He shook his head. He couldn’t take anything he saw or heard at face value. The dark side was clever and adaptable. Palpatine had been proof enough of that. “I don’t understand how torturing someone could ever be what’s best for them, but then I guess I’m old-fashioned.”

There was something dangerous in the way Jacen smiled and dropped his gaze for just a second. “My offer still stands, Anakin. You may not understand now, but I can help you unlock your potential and fulfill your destiny.”

Anakin eyed his surroundings, looking for a way to distract Jacen and free Allana. “How? The torture thing? Not interested.”

“You’ve been looking for something greater all your life, haven’t you? Something even other Jedi couldn’t achieve? Isn’t that why you were going to take Palpatine’s offer? To achieve that power?”

“A life of significance,” the Chancellor had said as he quietly tore Anakin’s world down around him. “Of conscience.”

Palpatine had known all along. He’d known that deep down, Anakin yearned for more than what the Jedi offered, that he’d wanted to make a real difference, to be the hero, to change the galaxy. To force change, if necessary, especially where corruption ran rampant and the innocent suffered. To be truly powerful, more powerful than the politicians and the crime lords and war profiteers and slavers – and then to crush all that greed and rot and sickness under his heel, never to rise again.

Jacen watched him carefully, his expression inscrutable. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Anakin. I’m hardly in a position to judge.”

Anakin shook his head. “I wanted to save Padmé’s life,” he insisted, clinging to that truth like a lifeline.

“And I want to save my family. Our family.” His grandson lowered his eyes and let out a quiet, mirthless laugh. “You know, I spent so much of my life in your shadow, haunted by your crimes, my heritage. And my brother—” Jacen hesitated ever so slightly over that word. “—he fought harder than any of us to reverse your legacy.”

In the Embrace, Allana let out a quiet moan, and every one of Anakin’s instincts screamed at him to save her.

“Jacen,” he said as calmly as he could, hands raised in a conciliatory gesture. “I know you don’t want to hurt her. Please, just let her go.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Anakin saw a flash of uncertainty in his grandson’s eyes. It was followed quickly by cold anger. “Do you think this is what I wanted? Do you think any of this is what I wanted?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin said, placating. “I don’t know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you from this. But I’m here now.”

Jacen stared back at him. “Stand firm,” he murmured. “You were there, when I needed you. When the universe spun around me, and everything was suddenly within my power to choose, it was your voice I heard. In your own way, you helped me become what I needed to be, to save everyone.” There was a hint of awe in Jacen's voice as he continued. “Don’t you see, Anakin? You’re not here to save me. You’re here to help me. You’re the proof that my plans haven’t been in vain, that events aren’t set and that there’s still time to make things right.”

“You must have wondered why you’re here.”

“No,” Anakin said in disbelief, Sekot’s words still echoing in his head. “Whatever reason you think I’m here, it’s not to help you carry out some delusional plan to, what… change history? Erase what you’ve done?”

Jacen didn’t move, and a shadow seemed to pass over his face. “I would have thought,” he said quietly, with an edge of durasteel, “that the man who traveled across time and space would be a little more open-minded.”

Anakin gripped the hilt of his saber harder. “Do you really think you can kill and kill, and as long as your reasons are good, it’s okay? Because you’re going to make things right?”

His grandson took a halting, labored breath, and his features twisted in a semblance of pain. “You know, a long time ago, I thought I knew the answer to that question. I thought I knew a lot of things. And now here we are.”

Anakin stretched out with his senses again, but the entirety of the room was still hidden from him. When he’d listened to Ben’s story about the Yuuzhan Vong and their technology, he’d never imagined he might actually encounter it. He was starting to wish he’d asked for more information back then.

“I’m not going to help you,” he said, straightening up to full height. “And I’m not leaving without Allana.”

Jacen sighed and rolled his shoulders back. “Then you leave me no choice.” He reached behind his back and pulled out two lightsabers. They activated with a snap-hiss, one violet and one blue. “Because I’m not letting her go again.”

Anakin ignited his weapon and gripped it with both hands. “I don’t want to fight you, Jacen.”

The Sith Master flourished his Jedi lightsabers and began to walk toward Anakin. “I don’t think it matters what either of us wants anymore.”

As Anakin raised his lightsaber, something sharp struck him in the shoulder. He spun around to fight it off, but he saw and sensed nothing. Jacen continued to walk toward him, a small smirk twisting his mouth.

“Razor bugs. They’re an old Yuuzhan Vong weapon. You won’t be able to feel them in the Force.”

Anakin reached up with one hand to check his shoulder. His fingers came back stained with blood. Great. “I was hoping you were actually going to fight me this time, not just throw things at me.”

Jacen circled around Anakin, pointing the violet blade at him. “If you insist.”

Then he sprang.

~~


“Have you got a read on Gren and the others yet?”

Tahiri opened her eyes and looked up at Myri, who was peering around the corner of the building they were sheltered behind. The ground rumbled beneath them as two of the AT-ATs trudged in their direction, and Sith bombers continued to streak across the sky, unloading their payloads all across Salis D’aar.

“Not quite,” Tahiri replied, unable to keep her frustration from seeping into her voice. “I’m having trouble pinning him down.” She nodded in the direction Myri was facing. A few blocks away from their hiding spot, there was a large, open plaza lined with shops and restaurants – all currently vacant as the citizens of Salis D’aar took shelter or fled the city. “I thought I sensed something near that plaza, but I can’t be sure.”

“He must be shrouding his presence from the Sith,” Valin said from behind her.

“Makes sense,” Myri said. There was something odd in her tone.

Tahiri straightened up a little. “What is it?”

Myri pulled back behind the wall, her face grim. “Those walkers are getting awfully close.” She pointed at two of her soldiers. “You two. Take half the squad and circle around the walkers from behind. See if you can slow them down.”

The soldiers saluted. “Understood, General.”

After the soldiers had moved out, Tahiri saw Valin raise an eyebrow at Myri. “General Antilles, huh?” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, you didn’t hear about my promotion?” Myri rolled her eyes and leaned out past the edge of the building for another look. “There goes my career as a covert intelligence operative.”

Tahiri was about to interject when an icy tendril of fear dragged up her spine. “Gren,” she whispered. She could feel his fear – not for himself, but for the Jedi in his care. He was very close to the plaza. Tahiri closed her eyes and expanded her awareness past the city to the walkers. She sensed them now, the Sith Lords in the lead transport. Most of them felt too vague to be familiar, but she recognized two of them. Darth Dominius and Darth Satrus, members of Krayt’s inner circle.

Jacen’s inner circle, she reminded herself. Her thoughts flitted briefly to Ben before she planted herself once again in the here and now. He could handle himself. Right now she had to figure out how they were going to save their friends while fighting off a handful of Sith Lords and dozens of soldiers.

Before she could say anything, Valin’s eyes grew wide and unfocused. He’d felt it, too. “Well,” he said, “we didn’t really think we’d get out of here without a fight, did we?”

Myri turned to where Ulin was hard at work on his datapad; she waved to get his attention. “Any luck contacting Bakuran defense?”

Ulin nodded without looking up, fingers tapping away with astonishing speed. “I think I’ve almost broken through. And I’m running a search for possible safe house locations we might have missed.”

The familiar clanking of the Sith walkers filled the air around them, and Tahiri sensed a swell of panic, one that was distinctively Gren; and in her mind’s eye, she saw him clearly for a few seconds, lightsaber ignited as he left his hiding place and charged in the direction of those walkers. She wanted to call out to him, but then another image came to her, of children and apprentices huddled in a bunker or basement of some kind. She could feel them all now, as if a curtain had been thrown back to reveal their presence.

She stood next to Myri and looked out past the plaza, where the walkers had maneuvered around a tall building and squadrons of bombers still peppered the sky; and she watched as a lone Jedi Knight made his last stand.

Tahiri ran ahead without thinking. She was dimly aware of the explosions that had begun to rain down near them, of Valin and Myri and the others running after her. The enclave was her objective; the Jedi had to be protected if Gren’s sacrifice was to mean anything. If all the sacrifices were to mean anything. Too many had died to keep them safe. Mara, Tenel Ka, Han, Leia…

Tahiri!

The mental call broke into her thoughts, and she stopped abruptly just as a building blew up in front of her. She was thrown backward into her squad; when the debris began to settle, she found herself in Valin’s arms. Tahiri looked up at her old friend.

“Thanks for the warning,” she said, hardly able to hear her own voice through the ringing in her ears.

Valin gave her a wry grin and helped her up from the rubble. Next to him, Myri was on her comlink, calling for an extraction team.

“The children,” Tahiri said, fighting to catch her breath. “Ulin, do you have anything—”

She cut off as she turned and saw Ulin lying on his back among the debris, scarlet blossoming across the front of his shirt. He lifted his head up to look at her and groaned.

“That hurt,” he said, sucking in a breath between his teeth.

Tahiri was at his side in an instant, lifting his head and shoulders into her lap. She reached down to inspect the wound, but he raised a hand to stop her. She realized he still clung to his datapad.

“Found them,” he said, hand shaking as he held the device up for her to take.

Myri dropped to her knees next to them and raised her comlink to her lips. “I’m going to need a medic with that evac team, Green Leader.”

“Copy that, Blue Leader.”

Tahiri took the datapad from Ulin and glanced down at indecipherable streams of information scrolling across the dust-covered screen. “I can’t…"

“Here.” Myri reached out and took the datapad from her. “Let me.”

While Myri scanned the data, Tahiri returned her attention to Ulin, to the wound in his side. “You’re going to be all right,” she said as she applied pressure. “The evac team is on its way.”

“Ulin, you genius!” Myri whooped as she jumped to her feet. Her eyes swept over the plaza, and she pointed toward the far end. “Undari’s Speeder Emporium. The owner was part of the Great River during the Vong War, a pilot. The plans for her shop include a basement; that must be where Gren stashed the kids.”

Ulin let out a small laugh. Too weak. “See? Now go save them, and don’t worry about me.”

Tahiri would have shaken him if he wasn’t so gravely injured. “That’s enough of that. We’re coming back for you, and you’d better not die on me while I’m gone.”

Another weak laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

Something pooled in her chest as she watched him struggle for breath, as she felt the chaos and fear in the city around her and thought of the lives she’d been too late to save. She recognized the feeling from too many battles waged across too many worlds, and all the losses she’d taken each time, piling up one on top of the other; from Yalena to Coruscant to Corellia, to Ossus, to the space over Myrkr… it threatened to drag her down with its sheer, horrible mass. And yet…

And yet, it didn’t drag her down. It wouldn’t drag her down, because she was still a Jedi Master, one of the last, and she still had so many lives to protect. The waters of her grief could stretch on and on, if she let them – a vast ocean of pain and suffering and misery, with a weight and current that most beings couldn’t hope to fight against. But she’d been broken before, and reforged through her own will into someone who could keep fighting, who could lift others up to keep them from drowning.

Tahiri bent forward to place a kiss on Ulin’s cheek. “Hey. Wish me luck.”

He grinned a little at that. “I thought Jedi didn’t believe in luck?”

She shook her head and smiled. “No harm in hedging my bets, is there?”

“There she is.” He winced and closed his eyes. “Good luck, Master Jedi.”

Myri waved one of her soldiers over, and Tahiri shifted Ulin carefully into his arms. Then she headed for the edge of the plaza, Myri and Valin close on her heels.

Undari’s was on the northwest side; they moved along the perimeter of the plaza, listening all the while for the tell-tale clanking of the Sith walkers, until finally, they reached the building.

The shopkeeper was a short, round woman of advanced years, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door. “Come on, quick, Jedi,” she said, waving them into the store. A moment later, Tahiri found herself in a low-ceilinged basement facing a cluster of very young Jedi students. They were watched over by a recently Knighted young Mirialan woman named Bree; Tahiri had only interacted with her directly a handful of times, but she’d always known her to be a levelheaded and capable apprentice.

“Bree,” Tahiri said as the dark-haired girl stepped forward. “There’s no time, the Sith are coming.”

“Master Gren…?”

Tahiri took the young Knight by the shoulders and shook her head. “We have to go, now.”

“This way,” Valin said, motioning up the stairs. The children rose quickly and followed him. Tahiri and Bree brought up the rear. They had just reached the street when a familiar deep hum met their ears. Tahiri twisted around in time to block the Sith Lord’s descending blade. Through the mingling of red and blue light she saw a Twi’lek woman sneering at her.

“Ready to join your friend, Jedi?”

Tahiri countered with a series of quick, tight strikes, turning her opponent’s momentum back on her. She sensed the other Sith nearby, as well as Valin coming back to help her.

The Twi’lek Sith slashed wildly with her lightsaber before flipping in a high arc over Tahiri’s head. She landed several feet away, right next to Darth Dominius and Darth Satrus. The Falleen man regarded Tahiri coolly, his saber activated at his side.

“I had hoped Skywalker might be here. We never had a chance to finish what we started on Vjun.”

Tahiri raised her weapon in front of her as Valin took up a defensive position at her side. “I guess you’ll have to settle for me,” she said.

Dominius smiled just slightly and brought his weapon to bear. “Indeed. Skywalker’s master is the only worthy alternative in this situation. I will enjoy killing you.”

She cocked her head to one side, and felt a thrill race through her that was nearly all Yuuzhan Vong. “I’ll enjoy watching you try.”

Before the Sith could move, she lifted her hand and wrenched it back, sending a flurry of debris hurtling at the enemy. The Sith Lords sidestepped it with ease, but the soldiers behind them weren’t so quick. As dust kicked up around them and the soldiers scattered, Tahiri glanced back to where Myri and her squad were herding the children away.

“We’ve got this,” Valin murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

“Yeah,” she said, turning back to the three Sith Lords before them. “You’re damn right we do.”

~~


Anakin had thought Darth Krayt was fast before; but now, without his armor, Jacen moved with incredible speed. He was nearly twenty years older than Anakin, and not only could he keep up, but he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Anakin dodged a right-handed swipe from the cerulean blade and caught the violet one against his own. As their two sabers clashed, Jacen tried to stab at him with his second one. Anakin shoved hard, knocking the first away and backflipping beyond the reach of the second.

Rather than pursue him, Jacen smirked and rolled his shoulders back. “You’re doing well. There aren’t many who can face me when I fight with dual sabers.”

Anakin ignored the pain in his shoulder and forced himself to breathe normally. “Not a big believer in fair fights, are you?”

Jacen’s eyes narrowed. “Not when the stakes are so high, no.” He twirled the sabers at his sides, creating pinwheels of light that reflected off of the slick membranes lining the ceiling.

“What happened to your red one?” Anakin pointed the tip of his lightsaber toward Jacen’s hip before settling into a defensive stance.

“I put it away. Figured today called for something a little more meaningful than your standard-issue symbol of the dark side.”

He held up the weapon in his left hand, the violet-bladed lightsaber. As Jacen stared into its white center, Anakin was struck by a sorrow that burrowed deep down into his bones.

“This was Jaina’s. When I dragged myself to an escape pod after our duel, I somehow picked up her lightsaber instead of my own. Even at the end we were connected by more than just blood.”

“But you still killed her.”

Jacen lowered the lightsaber, his expression shifting back into neutrality. “As you killed Obi-Wan.”

“I told you, I’m not that man.”

A dark smile twisted his grandson’s lips. “We both know that’s not true.”

Anakin tried not to think of the rush of power that had filled him on Zihrent, as lightning flowed with abandon from his fingertips, or of the teenage Sith Lord whose throat he’d nearly crushed. Most of all, he tried not to think of how Jacen seemed able to peer right into his heart, right to the darkest parts of him.

He tried instead to think of Obi-Wan, of what his friend would say if he were here now. He couldn’t summon any particular words, but for one fleeting instant, he felt a faint spark in the place that had bonded them together.

Anakin took a shaky breath, willing himself to let go of his doubts, his guilt. “I’m a Jedi Knight,” he said. “As you once were.”

Jacen bent slightly at the waist in a mock bow, sabers held out wide at his sides. “See how far you have to fall?”

He heard something behind him, turning in time to see one of those razor bugs flying toward him. He raised his saber and deflected it at the last second, but another one caught him behind the knee. He stumbled forward, and Jacen pounced.

His grandson was as relentless as he had been on Vjun. He pummeled Anakin, his twin lightsabers giving the beleaguered Jedi no respite. Defense had never been Anakin’s preferred strategy, though he was still better at it than most. He usually opted for a more aggressive approach in lightsaber combat, one where he could leverage his height and weight against his opponent. But Jacen countered each move with a fluid grace, turning those attacks back on him as easily as a master toying with his apprentice.

Jacen swung, and Anakin parried, ducking and weaving to avoid the dangerous second blade. He had to disarm Jacen and even the odds a little before it was too late.

“I really am impressed.” Jacen twisted the cerulean and violet blades under Anakin’s emerald one and thrust upward, chasing that motion with a kinetic blast that sent Anakin into a railing covered in slippery organic matter. In the half-second it took for Anakin to regain his footing, a razor bug appeared out of nowhere and sliced him across the cheek. Several more hit his arms and legs. Jacen cocked his head to one side. “But surely the Chosen One can do better?”

The mocking tone was jarring after all his seemingly heartfelt – if delusional – speeches. It burned Anakin to hear him speak that way while Allana’s life and soul were in the balance. It stoked a fire in him that he’d been fighting to suppress since he lost control on Zihrent – no, since he’d arrived here, since before he’d arrived here. Since the Invisible Hand and the Outer Rim Sieges, the beginning of the Clone Wars and the death of his mother and his first kill on Zonama Sekot, all the way back to his days as a slave, when he’d dreamed every day and every night of having a power that could set him free.

He didn’t want to resist anymore. Not if it meant losing Allana. He ignored the blood trickling from the gashes on his face and limbs, and he glared at the Master of the Sith.

“Just remember,” he said, focusing his will on the metal beams running across the ceiling, hidden under layers of coral and mucous membranes. “You asked for this.”

He raised his left hand toward the ceiling, and it began to shake and crack apart. Yorik coral rained down upon them as pieces of metal sheeting broke off and fell to the floor. Anakin smirked and looked back at Jacen.

The panic he’d hoped to see on the other man’s face wasn’t there. Instead, Jacen seemed pleased.

Anakin let out a growl and ran toward the Sith, swinging his lightsaber in a flurry of attacks that actually succeeded in pushing Jacen back. As he opened himself to the full spectrum of the Force, he felt himself more focused than before, able to perceive Jacen’s intent well in advance. What had been a grueling, uphill fight before was now a series of moves as natural to him as a well-practiced dance. In five steps he would relieve the Sith of one of his lightsabers. Four steps. Three… two…

One.

The emerald blade sliced through Jaina’s lightsaber, destroying the hilt and the crystal inside. Anakin shifted his weight and kicked Jacen square in the chest. The older man staggered backward.

Anakin pointed the tip of his blade at Jacen. “Was that good enough for you?”

Jacen rubbed absently at his chest, but once again he seemed more pleased than perturbed. He twirled the blue saber in his right hand and smiled. “What do you know?” he said in a soft and menacing murmur. “I wondered when I’d get a glimpse of the great and terrible Darth Vader.”

Jacen took a faltering step toward him, lightsaber only half-raised. He stopped a few paces away and straightened up to his full height, cracking his neck as he did so.

“You’re still holding back, Anakin. You need to surrender your control and leave your limits behind.”

“Enough!” Anakin raised a hand and hit Jacen with a kinetic burst. His grandson lifted one arm to block, but he still slid back a few steps.

“It will never be enough. The Jedi way won’t protect the ones you love. The Jedi way would see them die.”

From across the room, Allana let out another gasping moan, and Anakin felt a scream buried in his chest, fighting its way out. A red haze across his vision, grief and rage filling him like smoke. The beams and ceiling panels that had survived his first attack began to tremble; the entire room shook as Anakin reached for the power he’d denied himself. It didn’t matter if this was what Jacen wanted. He had to save Allana.

The tremors grew more violent, radiating from Anakin in waves. They flowed up the walls, breaking off whole sections of coral. Underneath, the metal buckled and twisted apart at the seams. Jacen deactivated his lightsaber and raised both arms to slow the onslaught of debris, but he was unable to match the strength of Anakin’s wrath. The Chosen One had become a rolling tide of fury, and he was about to wipe everything out.

Anakin raised his hands in the air once more and pulled back with all his might; and the ceiling came crashing down.

~~


The Daybreak streaked toward the Eradicator, weaving in and out of narrow gaps between the other Sith warships in their path. As the approached Krayt’s flagship, a squadron of Sith fighters flew to intercept them.

“Hold on!” Elias yelled from the cockpit.

Arden had her hands on the turret controls, waiting for the fighters to enter her crosshairs. The first one appeared, and she opened fire. The pilot was ready for her, though. He turned the ship on its side, and the laser flew right past him. Arden readjusted her grip and narrowed her eyes at the viewport.

The ship bucked, and Arden was thrown back in her seat. Below her, she heard Ames swear.

“Sorry!” Elias said as the helix fighters swarmed around them. Now there were so many that Arden hit one every time she fired. Elias continued to zig and zag between the larger starships, rolling the Daybreak so that Arden and Ames could get better shots at their attackers.

“I didn’t know you were this good of a pilot, Elias!” Ames whooped and called out as two more Sith fighters were turned to dust.

“I fly all the time!”

“Are you sure? It’s Ben’s ship.”

“I do at least forty-two percent of the flying around here.”

The Daybreak dove, narrowly avoiding the bridge of a Star Destroyer.

“That’s a very specific percentage,” Kohr said skeptically.

“Still sounds made-up,” Ames added.

“Hey!” Arden shouted into the comm. “Less talking, more shooting of Sith Lords!”

The comm was quiet for a moment before Kohr broke the silence. “I love this ship,” he said with a happy sigh. Arden shook her head and squeezed the trigger as another starship crossed her path.

So much for the whole Jedi stoicism thing. She grinned as Ames let out another victorious cry.

“Blue Five, this is Gold Leader,” a new voice said through the comm. “We’re starting our attack run.”

“Copy that, Gold Leader,” Elias answered. “Better make it fast.”

Arden craned her neck to see out her small viewport, and for a second she caught site of the Eradicator, its massive, black form surrounded on all sides by little explosions as the members of Gold Squadron engaged its fighters. A trio of Y-wings hurtled toward the Star Destroyer, ion cannons firing.

“Shields are down,” Gold Leader said. “Good hunting, Blue Five.”

“Copy, Gold Leader. May the Force be with you.”

The Daybreak weaved through enemy fighters and past the members of Gold Squadron, and moments later Arden’s viewport went durasteel gray as Elias flew them right into one of the Eradicator’s hangar bays. Below her, she heard Jysella Horn giving orders as the members of their strike team assembled near the ramp. Arden climbed out of her turret and slid down the ladder, arriving at the same moment as Ames. The boy held his lightsaber in one hand, and he gave her a nod as they joined the group.

Elias jogged from the cockpit, and as he reached her, he pulled her into a kiss. Then he pressed a blaster into her hands. “You sure you don’t want to stay here with Kohr?”

“I’m sure,” she said, gripping the blaster tight. “Where you go, I go.”

He kissed her again, then looked back toward the cockpit. “Cover us, Kohr!”

“You got it, boss!” the young Jedi shouted back.

The ramp lowered, and Jysella was the first down, the blue blade of her lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss as she began to deflect fire from a group of startled Sith soldiers. The strike team fanned out around her, returning fire.

“Come on, Artoo!” Elias waved the little astromech over to his side, and he and Ames positioned themselves in front of him. “We’ve got you, buddy.”

Artoo beeped an affirmative and followed them down the ramp. Arden stayed close to the droid, her heart in her throat as she emerged from the protection of the Daybreak into a frenzy of blasterfire. Their strike team made short work of the enemy soldiers, and after a minute, the hangar was quiet.

“Edrix and Tail, you stay with the ship,” Jysella said. “Alpha group with me, Beta group with Elias.” She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Let’s find our people.”

Arden reached for Elias and grasped his hand for a few seconds. She could feel the nervous tremor in his fingers, and when she looked up at him, she saw a hint of the haunted stare he’d worn in the aftermath of Vjun; but then he gazed down at her and smiled, and she knew with bone-deep certainty that they were going to be okay. Was that a newfound faith in the Force that made her feel that way, or just faith in her friends and in the man she loved? As she followed Elias and the strike team into the belly of the Eradicator, she thought maybe those things were one and the same.

~~


Anakin gasped as he struggled to crawl out from under a body-length sheet of durasteel. Several kilos of metal and duracrete and coral had dropped on him when the ceiling came down; only a last second push from the Force had prevented the ceiling panel from completely crushing him. He pushed up on the end of the panel, freeing the rest of his leg. Pain stabbed through him, from the injured leg all the way up to his side. He gritted his teeth against the feeling.

The entire room had been plunged into near-darkness, and when Anakin looked up he saw frayed electrical wire sparking in what was left of the ceiling; only a couple of the bioluminescent globes remained standing. He found his lightsaber despite the dark, but he didn’t activate it. Though he couldn’t sense Jacen’s presence, he was certain his grandson had survived, and he didn’t want to give him a beacon.

Next, Anakin reached out for Allana. The cave-in had left her miraculously untouched. She was still unconscious and still connected to the Embrace of Pain. As he began to crawl through the debris, he heard the screech of metal grating against metal several meters away.

Jacen.

Shrouding his presence as best he could, Anakin stayed low and continued moving toward the Embrace.

“I know you’re not dead, Anakin.” There was a rough edge to Jacen’s voice, but nothing in it to suggest he’d been seriously injured. Anakin tried to ignore the pain in his leg and side. He couldn’t give Jacen the satisfaction.

“I’m proud of you.” Jacen’s voice was traveling. It came now from the perimeter, near the turbolift. Away from Anakin but closer to Allana. “I’d heard stories about Darth Vader, about what he was capable of. You haven’t disappointed me.”

Anakin took a long, steadying breath. He was such a fool, playing right into Jacen’s hands. And for what? Power? The Sith Lord was alive and well while Anakin nursed more injuries than a gundark hunter. He winced as his leg caught on something, some piece of organic Vong tech that he couldn’t sense. He wrestled silently with the coral – or whatever it was – before his leg finally came loose.

He had failed. Even knowing his future and all the horrible things he’d done, he still reached right into that well of darkness inside him, drinking freely and without hesitation. He chose the dark side. How was he any better than Jacen? He wasn’t.

“You can’t hide forever. Come out, and join me. It’s the only path you have left.”

Anakin reached the short, grass-covered flight of stairs that led down to the Embrace of Pain. It was littered with debris. Since it was too dark to see anyway, he closed his eyes and let the Force guide him. He crawled down the stairs slowly, careful not to disturb anything.

“Do you honestly think Ben and his Jedi will accept you after what you’ve done? Knowing that one day you could be their destruction?”

Anakin was almost to Allana. Jacen’s voice was coming from the center of the throne room now, so he’d only have a few seconds to get Allana out once she was free of the Embrace. Not the greatest odds, but he had little choice. He wasn’t leaving without his granddaughter.

He could just barely make out the organism that was holding her, but now that he was close up he could see its branchlike appendages grasping onto her arms and legs, her waist and her neck. Two of those branches had inserted small barbs into the veins in her wrists. Though she was unconscious, Allana turned her head toward Anakin as he approached. He reached out to her through the Force, calling on its healing energies to soothe her. As if sensing what he was doing, the organism pressed another needle into Allana’s arm; a few seconds later she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Anakin was reaching out to tear the branch-grips off of her when a blue lightsaber ignited above him. He rolled out of the way as Jacen slashed downward where his head had been. Anakin jumped up with more speed than he should have been capable of and activated his saber. In the light of their blades, Anakin saw Jacen’s calm, calculated veneer had vanished, replaced with something feral.

“You don’t touch her!” he snarled.

Anakin raised his saber to block, moving away from the Embrace. “She’s going to die if you don’t stop this!”

Jacen sliced horizontally toward Anakin’s midsection. “The Embrace won’t let her die,” he said as Anakin parried. They traded blow after blow, Jacen attempting to steer Anakin away from Allana. Anakin dodged an overhead swing and spun around to kick Jacen in the ribs. The Sith Lord growled and swung his saber wildly as he fell to his knees. Anakin angled his blade at Jacen’s neck and held it there.

“Tell me something.” Jacen’s breathing was labored as he stared up at Anakin. “If the Force does have a will and it wants you to save me, why did it bring you here? If it was really serious about saving me, why didn’t it drop you in my path ten years ago, before I killed everyone I loved?”

There was genuine bitterness in his voice. Anakin swallowed hard before answering. “I don’t know.”

Jacen sighed and closed his eyes. “Go ahead. Kill me. It’s what I deserve.”

“I don’t want to kill you—”

His back exploded with pain as something sliced across it. He twisted to see a long, serpentine creature coiled on the ground behind him, hissing at him. Jacen sprang to his feet, throwing Anakin across the room with a powerful blast of energy.

Anakin held tight to his lightsaber as he rolled to a stop in front of the empty coral throne. He used it to pull himself up as Jacen vaulted across the gap between them. With one arm still around the throne, Anakin held out his saber in his right hand to block the coming blow. Jacen’s blade slipped under his and snapped up, sending it flying. In the next instant, the blue-white beam sliced through his bionic arm.

It was a strange sort of pain, losing his artificial limb to a lightsaber. There was the initial agony of having his arm severed, then the nerve endings fired almost instantly, sending little jolts through his arm as they short-circuited. He cried out and fell to his knees, clutching at the prosthetic stump.

Jacen kneeled next to him, the lightsaber still activated at his side. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Grandfather.”

Anakin grunted as he tried to drag himself toward the stairs. In his rational brain he knew he couldn’t escape, but every instinct screamed at him to flee. He managed to move half a body length before Jacen stood up and kicked him hard in the ribs. Anakin coughed and tasted blood. Jacen kicked him again, and this time Anakin tumbled down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he could no longer identify individual wounds; his entire body felt like it was coming apart. He got the feeling some of his wounds from Vjun had reopened.

Jacen leaped from the top of the stairs and landed beside Anakin. His lightsaber hummed next to the Jedi’s ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this lightsaber.”

Anakin tried to answer, but he couldn’t form the words. All he could do was lie there on his stomach and watch the cerulean saber out of the corner of his eye. He let his gaze wander toward the hilt, and a bitter laugh stuck in his throat as he realized whose weapon Jacen wielded. He wondered that he hadn’t noticed it before.

Jacen didn’t seem to mind that he was silent. “You left this behind on Vjun. I figured I’d hold onto it for you. Did you know your son was using this lightsaber when you cut off his hand? And you think I’m sick.” The blade left Anakin’s field of vision, but he could sense it hovering over him. “I never wanted to hurt any of them,” Jacen continued, his voice suddenly soft. “I hope you can believe me.”

White-hot pain burst in Anakin’s abdomen as the lightsaber pierced him. He gasped for air, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get enough. His lungs and stomach burned, and his remaining limbs started to go numb. His head was spinning, lost in a fog of pain. All the times he’d cheated death, and it had finally caught up to him. Now, now, he knew what it was like to lose everything.

I’m sorry, Allana, he called out to her. That failure hurt worst of all.

Jacen kneeled down next to him and took his chin in his hand, lifting it just slightly off the ground. Fire-rimmed eyes found his. “I know you don’t understand, but I’m going to fix this.” Then the Master of the Sith sighed and deactivated his lightsaber. It was silent between them, and Anakin wondered if that was a small mercy, that he could die in peace, without Jacen taunting him for his failure, without even Allana’s muffled cries to remind him of how he’d doomed her by not being strong enough.

A distant buzzing filled the air, humming steadily in his ears as it grew in volume, and fire raked through his lungs as his breath caught in his throat.

Anakin turned his head and lifted it just high enough to see the man standing in front of the open turbolift, a familiar cerulean lightsaber ignited at his side.

He felt a crack in Jacen’s defenses, then. A sense of relief and anticipation and an overwhelming feeling of completeness. Though he couldn’t see him, he knew Jacen was smiling.

“Hey, Ben. Welcome home.”

~~

 

So much to love about his chapter! Anakin's impulsiveness (he never changes, does he?), his determination to save his great-granddaughter, Jacen's absolute belief that what he is doing is right and necessary to save the people he loves. Sure hope Allana will be okay.

Oh, boy. This can't be good. All three of these men are so alike, though I imagine they'd deny it. I fear the outcome of this situation. Hopefully Ben can keep his head about him despite his fears that facing Jacen will be his own undoing.

Fabulous chapter.