Print Page - Shadow Etude

OK! This thread is meant to be read concurrently with Karm's excellent "Wind Chimes." Whenever we have a crossover, I'll post the timeline prior just in case ;) My thanks to my friends for inspiration and feedback :)

Special thanks to Karm for suggesting this ;D

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SHADOW ETUDE

Chapter 1: A Collaboration in Gray: New Friends (takes place immediately after "Wind Chimes, Ch.2 'Allies'")

Orange lightsaber?! The thought drilled through my mind. Seemingly of its own accord, my right hand flexed. Even now, years later, I could feel the searing agony within my arm. Beside me, D’Aylanna moved imperceptibly, her hand a calming touch on my elbow; but moreso, her soothing caress with the Force as we shared our bond.

Master Chillum continued. “Considering the two targets Kage Oyuna and Kage Silman agreed that we should split our effort. D’Aylanna’s team is headed to Kuat to follow up on the lead there. Karmack, you and Arnor will go to Sallust and track down Julwynn. Our primary objective is to stop whatever devices or weapons these enhanced crystals are being prepared for. If we can recover the crystals as well and liberate them that would be a bonus.”

Focusing on the situation at hand, I berated myself for getting distracted. Looking down into D’Aylanna’s dark eyes, I nodded my gratitude. From behind me, Jorya spoke, “Master…could it really be…?”

Turning, I forced myself to smile and project confidence that I did not feel. “Don’t worry, Dear One. It’s a wide galaxy. Besides: we have a job to do. You heard Master Chillum. We need to find out more about these Night Sisters, specifically Jennira. Thanks to the Mak’Tor intelligence, we’ve been able to deduce a few items of note. Most pertinent: Jennira was last seen at Kuat. THAT is our lead.” Turning my head to D’Aylanna, I was about to speak when she did.

“Shakal. I must needs speak to Master Chillum and Kage Silman. Please excuse me. Try to behave yourself.” Her eyes twinkled. “Try acting more like Master Karmack. He seems a man of refinement and propriety.” A light brush of her blue lips, she kissed me and was gone.

Smiling, I went to approach Karmack. But before I could take a step, I felt Jorya’s hand upon my shoulder. Facing her, I looked down and noticed a tentative look upon her face, her eyes coy. “Father?” I mentally switched roles, no longer in the mindset of “maenowan.” She continued, “Father, I’d like to…look upon the Mak’Tor Spire. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

I was astonished; I didn’t know that Jorya shared my own love of architecture and geology. I must have been silent for too long because she softly added, almost pleadingly, “Please?”

My mouth spread into a smile that radiated pride, pride and love. “Of course, Dear One. I’m sorry; I…I just never knew that you had a shared interest.”

Hugging me, she laughed gracefully, “Oh Father, I forget that Mother doesn’t always tell you everything. Thanks! Love you!” The last two sentences came out as a single word as Jorya ran off. I shook my head disbelievingly.

“They grow up so quickly.” A deep, rich voice sounded behind me. Turning, I looked at Master Karma—Karm—and smiled. His eyes followed Jorya’s retreating footfalls, but then turned them towards me. And there it was, in his eyes: a kindred spirit. “Takes after her mother, I take it?”

Yes. I think I like this man…

“Yes, thank the Maker,” I laughed. “In looks as well as temperament.” Solemnity followed for a moment. “I’m sorry for my abruptness earlier; I must admit that I was…amazed. Kage Silman is…legendary. Of the Water Warriors, no one is more esteemed. I have to say that I am still in awe. My own Nexu Master, Pranay Torsin, waxed nostalgic concerning his Water Master: Kage Silman.”

Waving his hand past in welcome, I fell in besides Karm. He had the graceful gait I immediately recognized as that of a master warrior. But then, I knew that already. Robes whispering around us as we slowly walked, I casually asked, “From your comment earlier, I take it that you are a father yourself from experience?”

Karm smiled, a proud set to his face…but something beneath, subtle…worry? “Yes. In fact, my eldest, Kenneniah, will be assigned as my teidowan.” Ah, of course.

“He could not have a better master, Karm.” I grinned, suddenly reflective. “I’m not sure if you’d remember, I was a koawan at the time, but I actually saw you before.” Karm’s face looked inquisitive while I continued. “You were teaching a class in ‘remote tactical techniques.’ Every single koawan and teidowan in attendance spoke about it for months afterwards, amazed at the Silver Koawan that could use the Force with such precision and acuity.”

Looking introspective, the Gray master remembered, nodding. “On Sekot. About…a decade ago?”

I concurred. “Good memory. Sorry; I only mention it now knowing that your son is soon to be your teidowan.” I looked towards where Jorya had disappeared to. “I was fortunate enough that my daughter was assigned into apprenticeship to me. It gave me the focus I needed.” I looked directly into Karm’s eyes; again, seeing a man of wisdom. “The necessary acuity. And the prudence to know when to be a master and when to be a parent.”

He smiled warmly. “Looks like you learned the lesson the way most men do: the hardest.” Knowingly, he glanced towards my hand and, lower, at my left leg. Incredible. Yes, this was definitely that powerful Silver Knight I’d seen. No, no I admonished myself; this is a master. Feeling at ease, I laughed and continued towards the woman he had been leading me towards, I now realized.

“My love,” Karm fondly called to his wife, the woman that I’d only briefly met.

Easily turning, she smiled at Karm. “Letch.” However, she circled her arm through his and around his waist, standing by him. Hearing the interchange, I was reminded of the playfulness between D’Aylanna and myself. Again, I found myself thinking I like them…

And seeing Karm and Arnor together, I could almost…hear their affinity. It was…incredible. Was this was what was meant by hearing…the Song? The Vhal’Dan Order had no equivalent, much less a comparison. It was almost…indescribable; akin to explaining colors to a person without eyes. Regardless, it was…extraordinary. Thank the Maker that the Mak’Tor had some members on Sekot; I’d been the recipient of their singular gifts more times than I cared to think about. Mentally shaking my head, I approached Arnor.

“Lady Arnor.” As disparate from D’Aylanna as she was, Arnor was VERY much like her: a beautiful woman but moreover, her presence was remarkable. I had the distinct feeling that she was not only a warrior in her own right, but—like Karm—a master. I couldn’t help but feel amused: Karm and I had probably chosen the two most dangerous women in the galaxy. What did that say about us?

As if reading my mind, Arnor smiled. “Maenowan Zearic. Your wife is lovely. Such an incredible woman. And Jorya; I see that your…daughter is as excitable as our eldest.” Only the slightest of pauses; I couldn’t help but smile: Arnor WAS exceptionally perceptive. “I trust you’ve given her some latitude to…explore?”

“Please, my Lady, if you’d do me the benefit of calling me Zearic. And yes. Somehow, she takes after me in being enamored with archaic geology. Poor girl, I doubt that it will make her popular.” I looked wistful.

“Actually, Zearic, she’s done you a favor. Now you don’t need to worry about her attracting the wrong kind of attention.” I laughed at Karm’s wit.

“Point.” I conceded, still grinning.

Arnor smiled up at her husband and then glanced at me. “Vih’Torr. That’s a Hapan name.” Arnor’s eyes shined. “House Royal?”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “How is it you do that? Sorry, my Lady; D’Aylanna seems to be able to read my mind without effort.”

“What makes you think that she doesn’t?” The serious look on her face belied the levity of her mood. This time, we all shared in our laughter. “And, please, let neither of us stand on ceremony. Arnor.” Her eyes reflected the welcoming tone of her voice.

“La—Arnor, of course. And you are correct. Marquisa ta’a Chume.” I hadn’t said D’Aylanna’s title aloud in…years. “I took her name when we married. I’m originally from Dalos IV.”

Knowing looks crossed both Karm’s and Arnor’s faces. Dalos IV. Originally a penal colony, the Empire had largely ignored it. Consequently, there was virtually no government, except that from whichever warlord was in power at the time. The populace was almost completely militarized, to a person. Growing up there…you survived. Or you died, nothing in-between. Having lived there, I was lucky to have a FIRST name. But with D’Aylanna, she not only gave me my full name but a HOME. So unlike me, but I opened up to Karm and Arnor.

“Yes. It was just…blind luck that I came upon a visiting maenowan who was on-planet. Found me when I was twelve. He…tested me for Force sensitivity, took me off-world to Sekot.” What I didn’t say was that I was attempting to subconsciously use the Force to “appropriate” a few credits from Master Ovarug. Again, I was surprised to find myself reflective: I hadn’t thought of Master Kazic Ovarug in years. Smiling fondly in remembrance, I said a silent litany of gratitude.

Again, as if reading my mood, Karm and Arnor smiled genially. Of course, the Song. No wonder that these two could be so insightful and so…hospitable. In a reprise of our earlier encounter, Karm and I shook hands. Once again, the metallic grind of cybernetics sounded as we clasped hands. This time, we both broke out fully laughing.

<<<<< >>>>>

“Master Chillum, thank you for seeing me; please forgive my duplicity but…well, I’m sure that you’ll understand.” D’Aylanna spoke softly in the venerable Gray master’s rooms.

“Doni, please, lass,” His gruff voice said amiably. “Now, what’s this about?”

Sensing the mood, D’Aylanna immediately relaxed. “Doni, Oyuna wanted for me to extend not only her thanks but also her regrets that she could not personally attend you.” Reaching into one of the pouches on her belt, she withdrew an elaborately colored cabochon. As it moved, the polished stone’s colors slowly churned: first red, then green, blue, then orange, yellow, then purple, then back to red. “She hopes that this will…do in lieu of words.” She smiled, handing the artifact to him.

“Forgive me, Doni. But I am desperately overdue to Kage Silman.” Her dark eyes looked into Master Chillum’s clear ones, kindly smiling. “But, I did promise Oyuna.” Taking his larger between both of her smaller hands, she gently placed the cabochon in it. Looking up at his face, D’Aylanna’s eyes told of her compassion. Squeezing his hand, she quietly withdrew from Master Chillum’s apartments.

A sentimental set to his face, he looked at the stone. Then, rubbing his index finger along a miniscule, almost imperceptible pleat that he knew would be there, the cabochon’s colors began to swirl. The light combined, creating a gorgeous panoply of hues.

And then, faintly at first, music began to play. As it continued, it became stronger yet more melodic, a harmony that was entirely exquisite as it was evocative. Time had no meaning, flowing along the melody: lucid, tranquil, beautiful. Softly it concluded, the music did not so much as stop but lingered…

A small smile playing on his lips, Master Chillum smiled. “Ah, lass…”

<<<<< >>>>>

Later that night, D’Aylanna joined Karm, Arnor, and myself. As I had expected (and, truth be told, feared), Arnor and D’Aylanna immediately took to one another. Someone suggested dinner and it was all that Karm and I could do to keep our wives from relating every embarrassing tale, or at least that was my take from D’Aylanna’s choice of anecdotes. But it was the generous nature of our hosts that made our stay on M’Tzigon memorable.

Much later in the evening, after D’Aylanna and I had returned to the furnished apartments lent to us, we found Jorya excitedly pouring over holovids concerning the Spire and its consequent history. Smiling at my adoptive daughter, I looked down into my wife’s beautiful face. By the Maker, could life get better? I asked myself. Allowing myself a moment to reflect on my past, I had to admit that I’d been fortunate…more than I deserved.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps…I also followed the Song, if inadvertently? I would never suppose, never be so arrogant as to presume that… But, looking at D’Aylanna and to Jorya, I realized that as long as I had them—and now, friends like Karm and Arnor—that THIS was what mattered. Tonight, I could rest. Tonight, I could just be “Father,” “Husband,” and “Shakal.”

Tomorrow, we would begin; to look for Jennira, to look for these so-called “Sith-Shadows.” To find Namman Cha and ascertain his motives. And to see if she was still alive, even after everything.

Gaetana. She who had wounded me; worse, maimed Jorya. I had not had such…rage, such…FURY in years. I was transported back to the time before I’d learn to properly channel my anger and temper it with tranquility. That was one of the reasons that I’d chosen the Water Warrior Order: to LEARN to be like Water. Gentle. Agile. Yet absolutely unforgiving.

I smiled, transported back in time. No. No, that man no longer existed. In his place was one older, wiser. Deadlier. I thought again of Karm. Precision. That was one of the most valuable lessons I’d learned, and learned well. Acuity. He’d tried to show me all those years ago but I was not mature enough to listen, to understand. Power. So much more than what I thought strength alone would give. Wisdom. I smiled. My new friends had helped to remind me of the power in that.

Hugging me tightly, D’Aylanna added her own soothing via the Force. Tonight, we celebrate life. Tomorrow, we PROTECT life.

Chapter 2: Belly of the Beast

Kuat.

The small planet glowed an eerie green, the clouds in the stratosphere reflecting the starlight as it filtered into our small Hapan-engineered, Mandalorian infiltrator, Fenris’ Dirge. The Orbital Array stood against the green atmosphere in stark contrast: gleaming quadranium hull plating created a metallic halo that looked as if it constrained the planet surface below. The somber mood on the bridge was stifling; recollections of our time spent with Arnor and Karm distant. Memories of the last time that I was here tried to suborn the goodwill we’d felt on M’Tzigon. However, thanks to the efforts of D’Aylanna and Jorya, I felt better prepared this time around.

One of the positives was the fact that the Drive Yards was a mass of chaos. With the Imperial defeat at Endor, the entire Navy had been thrown in disarray: three entire sector fleets destroyed, including Vader’s flagship, the star dreadnought Executor. With such capital ship shortages, Kuat had found itself unable to keep up with the demand, to say nothing of the loss of key personnel that the Imperial Navy had experienced. Working military doctrine surmised that a position aboard the Executor was a guaranteed fast-track through the ranks. As such, any position that opened up on Vader’s flagship was filled immediately with the most qualified. When we learned that it had been destroyed with all hands aboard, the Gray Jedi on Sekot breathed a little easier.

But even amidst the turmoil, Kuat was still a dangerous place to be. The Imperial Navy was attempting to crack down hard on disorder. And security surrounding the Orbital Array was at an absolute maximum. However, the Empire had loosened its control over the planet itself. Good for us; Mak’Tor intelligence had pinpointed Jennira’s location on Kuat proper. As such, we had several advantages: thanks to D’Aylanna’s contacts in Hapan Intelligence, we’d been provided an Imperial transponder for our ship, which would identify us as Imperial Propulsion Engineers out of Mandalore. Furthermore, a small part of the datadump that we’d identified from our previous trip allowed us several back-door exploits. Finally, with the activity surrounding the shipyards, bureaucratic red-tape was a Gordian Knot that not even the Imperial Joint Admirals could easily navigate.

As D’Aylanna piloted us towards the Orbital Array, it gave Jorya and I the opportunity to peruse the current state of affairs. While, yes, the Yards were chaotic, it was also a bustle of deliberate activity, consisting almost entirely of shipbuilding. As I said, Imperial losses had been significant and the Yards’ supply was attempting to compensate the demand. And star destroyers were always needed. I had to hope that the Imperial war machine would be slow to recover, especially as we focused on our task.

Scanning the sky, I did a double take: anchored inside the defensive ring’s battery range, an enormous star dreadnought was in geosynchronous orbit. Measuring almost 19 kilometers from stem to stern, the hull was completely jet black. My mind hearkened back to that day on Byss when we’d flown over the Imperial Control Sector. Closing my eyes, I focused using the Force, running through a mental recall technique.

As Jaim piloted us below the stratosphere, we saw that the entire landmass of the largest continent had been urbanized… Huge industrial and administrative complexes impaled the sky, while numerous shipyards were interspersed throughout. In one particularly large drydock, an enormous skeletal chassis of what I could only presume would be a star destroyer was being assembled. Only, this star destroyer was completely different than anything that I’d ever seen: it would be almost 18 kilometers in length, if the framework was any indication and it was completely jet-black.

Opening my eyes, I quietly spoke under my breath. “Project Eclipse.” Turning to my daughter, I told her, “Jorya, please give me any information concerning that…ship.”

Keying in the request, our ship’s databanks began divulging information to Jorya. Efficiently, she keyed it over to my monitor. The Eclipse. It must be the same one I’d seen almost a decade hence. “By the Maker…” It dwarfed even the Executor in sheer volume, and Vader’s flagship had been a nightmare. But the Eclipse? I admonished myself; one problem at a time. I was needed here and now.

“Shakal. The Mak’Tor intelligence has noted sightings of Jennira at a location in a manufacturing district outside Kuat City. I shall be landing near there.” D’Aylanna’s voice was somewhat distracted as she maneuvered our ship through the space lanes. “Which means we should make planet-fall just after dusk.”

Speaking softly, almost to myself, I said, “Yes, that would figure. I imagine that she is attempting to fabricate the machinery necessary to incorporate the Adegan Pontite they would need to ‘program.’ But the crystals themselves couldn’t possibly be in the city. It must be a rural location.” Turning my head to Jorya, I spoke in my normal volume. “Jorya, see if you can scan for cratons on the surface; they should be the oldest geologically stable structures.” Adding as an afterthought, “And narrow the search parameters to account for humidity factors ranging below 5%.” Pontite, the rarest of Kyber crystals, required low moisture percentages within the climate.

Punching in the necessary information, Jorya waited while the datanode computed all possible locations. “Master, there are over two dozen possible sites. Wait; several can be eliminated; they are surrounded by alluvial deposits.” I couldn’t help but feel pride; she truly did have my love of geology. Alluvium was indicative of erosion, specifically water erosion. Pontite would not form with such geological conditions.

“Good. After you eliminate those…?” I left the question hanging.

Jorya grinned while she compiled the data. But it soon vanished. “Still nine different locations. Too many for us to check out while remaining undetected.” She said the last under her breath. And I had to agree: we couldn’t be indiscriminate with our search. I knew that Jennira would have in her employ a small army of Sith-Shadows. Unfortunately, time was not a luxury that we had. Interrupting my reverie, Jorya’s question brought me back to the present. “Master, if the crystals give off a weak Force signature, couldn’t we just head within the vicinity and detect it?”

Trying not to sound pedantic, I looked at Jorya. “I’m afraid not. We’d have to practically be next to them in order to ‘feel’ them through the Force. Also: if anyone was around, they would witness a distinct…change in the crystals’ behavior.” And one more point, I reminded myself. Almost certainly, Jennira would be able to use them against us, en masse. By the Maker, how do we deal with a Dark Singer in the midst of an entire crystal lode? But I kept that last to myself, at least for now.

Looking downcast, I saw Jorya frown. She was disappointed with herself, I realized.

“You did well, Dear One. You have to remember: these are the rarest of crystals. Most Jedi have never even seen them and usually only hear about them in legend or even myth. You were not wrong to ask, Jorya.” Smiling at her, I saw that her confidence was buoyed by my words. “See if you can’t add any other information I may have overlooked and feed it into the algorithm. I need to talk to your mother.”

Leaving her terminal, I joined my wife in the cockpit. “Ereneda. I think we’re going to have to find information concerning the crystal site that Jennira is using at the manufactory. There are currently too many possibilities for us to deduce the correct one.
I believe that we’ll have to do some night reconnoitering.” Squeezing her shoulder gently, I looked directly into her dark eyes. “Ereneda, you know that means we’ll have to have you on overwatch.” The firm set of her deep blue lips was indicative of her understanding…and her disappointment.

Hapes Prime was located in a dense star cluster; as a result, the planet was bathed in perpetual sunlight. As such, Hapans were effectively night-blind when it came to the dark. And while D’Aylanna had developed keen senses, to say nothing of her mastery in the Force, Jorya and I would consist of the recon team as we would need visual confirmation of intel. But that didn’t mean that she had to like it.

Her full lips pouting, D’Aylanna’s face looked stoic. “Very well, Shakal. I will monitor from here.” Her eyes suddenly had a mischievous glint to them. “At least I don’t have to see you in your tactical utilities. Sometimes my eyesight betrays me.”

I had to laugh. By necessity, our tac-gear was…snug. And 135 kilograms wasn’t the…easiest of weights for the tac-utilities to cover. If anything, I looked like a…bantha’s shadow.
As I fixed my web belt, readjusting my lightsabers, Jorya entered. “I can see you skipped supper, Father. Good thing, too. You might want to consider a larger sized shirt.”

Grinning, I fondly spoke under my breath, “Just like your mother.” Jorya’s smile deepened; clearly she’d heard me. Donning black headgear, the Togruta’s lekku and montrails were effectively hidden. In fact, the only part that the two of us had exposed was our faces, one pale and one orange.

Feeling the shift from inertial dampeners to planetary gravity signaled that we were getting close to the surface. Kuat’s gravity was as near Imperial Standard that the difference was negligible so both Jorya and I were in our element. I heard the subtle hum of the engines change; D’Aylanna must have engaged our cloaking mode. Taking that as our cue, Jorya and I moved to the portside drop gates. Hooking up our belay lines, we got ready to fast-rope down. I could see from Jorya’s eyes that her adrenaline was up. Good, it would help. The Maker knew that it was coursing through my system.

While we hadn’t known exactly what to expect, we’d planned for this contingency. Familiarizing ourselves with the available schematics of the layout, we’d memorized the manufactory blueprints. And with D’Aylanna on overwatch, I knew that Jorya and I were in good hands.

The hatches opened and two seconds later Jorya and I were rappelling down the lines. As we both soundlessly hit the rooftop, our belay lines retracted into the ship. D’Aylanna expertly piloted away to establish overwatch while Jorya and I gained entry through one of the service elevator shafts. Using a smart nylasteel line, we were able to descend the shaft to the second subfloor where I knew the processing stations were. Here, the Night Sister had the mechanical interface parts being manufactured for the Adegan Pontite. With luck, we’d be able to locate intel concerning the location of the crystals themselves.

Using Force-assisted jumps, Jorya and I took to the metal rafters and stanchions, hoping to avoid any confrontations. And with D’Aylanna’s voice in our ears providing directions, we were able to move about quickly, assuredly, and undetected. One thing that we’d all agreed upon: zero presence. Especially if Gaetana was looking for us; she’d always been exceptional at deductive reasoning and she would know what to look for.

Stopping abruptly, I held up a fist to Jorya. Silently and smoothly, the Togruta halted, motionless but ready. And with my Force senses, I could feel her excitement. Yes, she’d been on missions before, but this was truly her forte. She was lighter than shadow, quicker than thought. And her lithe body was far more agile than mine; as such, it was all that I could do just to keep up with her. Her dark red lips smiled a playful grin, reflected in her clear blue eyes. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I returned her grin but motioned “look ahead.” About a half a dozen meters in front of us, the metallic walkway ended in a three-story drop to the machinery below. And about twenty-five meters away, I spied the rooms that we needed to gain access to. Silently, I made the mental calculations to cross the span. It would take us a bit of acrobatics as well as both of us to traverse the distance.

Putting my mouth right next to Jorya’s head, I quietly whispered my plan. She looked me straight in my eyes, her blue into my hazel. And I could see her eagerness; she was actually looking forward to this. Smiling ruefully, I did a silent countdown from three. I had to time this just right; the cacophony of the manufactory should conceal any sound but I wanted to make use of the timing of the loudest machinery.

Again, using the Force to assist me and reinforce my muscles, I jumped, arching my trajectory to one of the stanchions. My cybernetic right hand latched on solidly, supporting my weight with ease. Looking back at Jorya, I held out my left hand. Effortlessly, she jumped, clasping my wrist with her left hand. And using her momentum, I swung her past me. Still gripping my left wrist, her right hand gained purchase on the metal rafter. Now came the tricky part: she would have to do the same for me. Muscles, sinew, ligaments, and tendons fortified with the Force, Jorya nodded at me. Looking below, the manufactory was a den of mechanical activity. No one could see us from this vantage. Still, I worried for my daughter. But…I also trusted her implicitly. Grinning, I nodded and let go with my right hand.

Like a pendulum, I arced through the air, faster as I swung. And with determination and agility that I was envious and proud of, Jorya pivoted my body past her and up. Again, my cybernetic hand caught hold. And, as worried as I had been, I need not have worried; Jorya had performed beautifully. It took us two more rotations of alternated swinging but we made it to the other side. Looking at the Togruta, I could tell that she was exhilarated by the event. Even better: she was uninjured by hoisting my weight. Of course, she hadn’t made one sound.

Which was fortuitous: looking below us, I saw that the room we needed to access had a posting of guards outside. So: our first experience with Jennira’s Sith-Shadows. There were three of them: a Rodian, a Gotal, and a Duros. They were talking among themselves, indifferent and unconcerned. Clearly, they never expected that anyone would attempt to infiltrate the facility. Well, good for us; bad for them.

Again, putting my mouth next to Jorya’s head, I told her which targets were mine: the Gotal and the Duros. She would take the Rodian. We both anchored our nylasteel line to the stanchion above, and running the rope through our legs, we inverted and locked our boots together, using them as our belaying device. Then, slowly, we began to descend atop the three Sith-Shadows. Three meters. Each centimeter we slid down, I kept constant vigil on our three targets. Two meters. I briefly flashed my eyes towards Jorya as she rappelled down her line; her body was like a coil, ready for action. One meter. I focused back on my own targets; both the Duros and the Gotal were relating some vulgar tale to one another while the Rodian put a pinch of tabac between his lips. Half a meter.

And then the Gotal looked up.

Chapter 3: The Zabrak’s (Dis)chord

The Gotal’s eyes widened. Damn. I had a split-second; releasing the nylasteel line, I dropped to the floor, turning midair to land in a crouch. As soon as I had grounded on the floor, I swept the legs out of the Gotal, knocking him on his back. I immediately followed up with a punch to the sacral nerve plexus on the Duros with my left and a quick hammer strike to the Gotal’s throat with my right. I quickly wrapped my arms around the Duros’ neck as he struggled to regain his senses after my initial punch. Slowly, I felt him grow limp, unconscious.

Turning my head, I saw that Jorya had the Rodian’s neck between her legs. Pivoting downward, using her entire body’s momentum, she flung the Rodian to the floor. Without having released her leg-lock, she continued to squeeze until the Rodian joined his confederates in the oblivion of sleep. I swept out mentally with the Force, searching for any signs that we’d been detected. Nothing. Good.

“Ereneda, I need to stow some bodies where they won’t be found, at least for awhile. They’re alive.” I added as an afterthought. “We’re in Sector 68, Subfloor 2.”

Listening to D’Aylanna, I saw Jorya quickly collect the three Sith-Shadows. She took their weapons and dropped them into one of the many incinerator units lining the hallway. Lightsaber hilt in hand, she stood as lookout, ready in an instant to ignite it. Once D’Aylanna had found a suitable room that we could stow our unconscious prisoners, Jorya and I were quick to act. I picked up the Duros while I grabbed the Gotal with my right hand. Jorya dragged the Rodian into an adjoining room about ten meters from where we’d dropped down. I say “room” but it was more a closet; regardless, it would suit our purposes. After unceremoniously depositing the Sith-Shadows in the room, I balled up my cybernetic right hand in a tight fist and punched the control board, effectively locking them in.

Again, I fully opened my mind to the Force, gently probing outward like Jaim had taught me. I could sense about half a dozen life forms but just on the periphery range of my abilities. Refocusing, I tightened in on my probing, directly into the control room. Nothing seemed amiss. Sighing, I gesticulated to Jorya “this way” to the room and “ready.” She nodded while I took my lightsaber in hand. Signaling a countdown from “three,” I used the datacard we’d prepared to open the door.

Even before the doors had fully opened, I burst into the room, Jorya covering behind me. Quickly scanning the room, it looked over the manufactory below. Yes, this was the correct room. “Jorya, please get up on the mainframe. We need to locate anything we can concerning the origin point of the crystals.” With a determined set of her lips, she nodded and sat at the main terminal. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes—and Force senses—on the ready.

On Sekot, I’d made it a point to train up on slicing. And while I was good, Jorya had proven herself to be an expert, almost as good as G’av had been. So it was a surprise when Jorya spoke in a frustrated, quiet voice, “Master, there is nothing concerning the Pontite within the database. I’ve run every search parameter, even tangential factors. Nothing.” Her dark red lips were as tight as her eyes; I knew that if she couldn’t find anything in the computer then there would be nothing to find.

“You did well, Jorya.” I told her, meaning it. “Well…we’ll have to do some social intelligence gathering then.” I focused my senses, gently flowing outward. As I’d said, Jaim was a master at mental Force abilities and, despite many hours of study with him, I was only middling at best. Wishing that D’Aylanna was here—and not for the first time—as I knew that her abilities far surpassed mine, I continued to probe outward. There, almost a…an itch I could feel. A mind different from the others. Confident. Self-assured. Arrogant. Someone used to command. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, someone that would know where the Night Sister witch was mining her Pontite. I hoped. “This way.”

D’Aylanna’s voice sounded in my ear as we exited the Control Room, penetrating further into the complex. According to my wife, we needed to go down two connecting hallways, which would open into a larger assembly area. It was in this area that I felt the…presence. By now, there were two others that had joined. Pausing a moment, I turned to Jorya. “Can you take two Sith-Shadows yourself? I may not be able to split my attention between two targets; the presence that I sensed is strong, very strong.”

Jorya grinned. “Of course.” She took her shoto off her belt; I’d been training her as in Jar’Kai as well as the standard two-handed forms. Her face turned serious as she readied herself. Nodding to me, I gave her a silent countdown from “three.”

As soon as the door opened, we rushed into the room, Jorya igniting both sabers as she closed the distance between her and two of the Sith-Shadows. Simultaneously, I flooded the room with Force suppression. Also known by Masters as “Force breach,” it diminished an enemy’s Force resistance; it also caused an overwhelming feeling of oppression, making one feel dispirited. My teacher, Nexu Master Pranay, had taught me that cunning and speed were germane to a Water Warrior. I’d learned his lessons well; Jorya and I were on the three Sith-Shadows before they’d even reacted, our lightsabers literally at their throats.

The two Sith-Shadows that Jorya held captive were dressed similarly as the three we’d knocked unconscious: blood-red splint armor, blasters, and various bladed weapons about their persons. But my prisoner…he was something else altoghter. Dressed in ancient Mandalorian armor, he was a young, tall, imposing Zabrak, his right arm had been completely replaced cybernetically. And, according to Mak’Tor intelligence, this was the leader of the Sith-Shadows, Mellichae. His blue eyes were piercing and unafraid; his demeanor contemptible. I’d been correct; this man would know where Jennira’s crystals were being mined.

All of this went through my mind instantly. Knowing the Jorya could handle the other two, my complete attention focused on the Zabrak. Even with my blue blade at his throat, he looked unconcerned. I would disabuse him of that notion. As I began to speak, I focused my mind, intent on a concealed probe that would access the information that I needed from Mellichae’s mind. “Tell me where the Night Sister is.” The words weren’t truly important, only that I distract attention from my true intentions. “Tell me what Jennira Hri is planning.” Cluttered images began to coalesce, slowly at first, and muddled. “Tell me why she hired the Sith-Shadows.” A cave…no, a network of tunnels fixed in place, glowing from within. A…a resonance that I could almost hear was…sounding from the cave…no, a network of tunnels. “Tell me what you are doing here.” A tall, pale woman sat in the middle of an antechamber, singing softly…

Singing. Softly. Something was wrong, I realized. I wasn’t just hearing it in my head; my ears were hearing…soft singing. Here. Now. My mind…sluggish suddenly. From the corner of my eye, I could see Jorya’s lightsabers slowly dropping. I should say…something. A warning? But…what for? Detached, I saw my own blue blade drop. Why…what was I doing…here?

“SHAKAL!”

D’Aylanna’s voice cut through the haze, a spray of cold water on my face, instantly reinvigorating me. And none too soon; Mellichae had ignited his own saber, red blade stopping centimeters from my face as my lightsaber blocked it. By the Maker…! Mellichae—this Zabrak—was a Dark Singer! Before I could contemplate that, I remembered my daughter; sparing a look from the corner of my eye, I yelled at her, “JORYA!” It was enough; shaking her head, she brought her blades up in a deflect/defense form as the two Sith-Shadows brought their blasters to bear upon her. One of them reached to her belt and pulled an electro-tonfa, energizing it. But it was all the attention that I could spare; the Zabrak’s lightsaber required ALL of my concentration.

In his prime, Mellichae was fast and powerful. Worse, he continued to sing, threatening to lull me insensate. At first, it was all that I could do to keep my blade between his lightsaber and I. A particularly hard overhead blow almost stunned me; even pushing his red blade away, he scored a minor hit on my shoulder. But it did enough; using the pain that ensued, he threw his open palm outward, producing a brutal Force Push. Still dazed, I was unable to block it entirely. Close to loosing my footing, I retreated with a backflip. I HAD to focus my faculties. THINK. Remember what Master Pranay and D’Aylanna had taught me. Thinking of them, I found my center; the knife’s edge between tranquility and rage. A rushing rive…no. A crashing tsunami.

Realigning my posture, I fell into the form that I’d been working on with D’Aylanna and Master Pranay for years now: Vaapad. I was a Water Warrior. Master Pranay’s voice was in my head: “Empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless. Water can flow…or it can crash. Be water.” Mellichae’s blade stopped, his eyes opening wide as his flow was interrupted, as my blue lightsaber crashed into his. His lips fell silent, his Song disrupted. I was a Water Warrior. I was water.

We crossed blades in a violent dance of lightsabers, Mellichae losing ground now. Speed born of Force-enhanced limbs threatened his defense, precision finding almost imperceptible openings as I continued my assault. The Zabrak tried to regain composure, the Song attempting to find its pitch but my ferocious attack was such that he could not find expression. Thinking of Karm--Sage of Song--I realized that Mellichae must be a neophyte Singer. Again, the teachings of Master Pranay echoed in my mind: “Be swift, be agile, but—above all—be absolutely unforgiving.”

I had a split second warning; parrying the Zabrak’s red blade, I rolled forward below his cut, while attempting to avoid the blaster bolt that had been fired at me. I felt the searing pain on my tricep as the bolt burned the air above where I’d been standing not a second before. Using the Force to suppress the pain, my offensive slowed. Worried for Jorya, I split my attention sideways. I could see that she had dealt with the Sith-Shadow that had shot at me, a hole burned through his armor where her blade had pierced his heart. Unfortunately, the other Sith-Shadow now had two electro-tonfa, one in each hand, and was pressing advantage. Concern superseded caution and I briefly focused a Force Push on the Sith-Shadow. It was not particularly powerful, nor accurate but it was enough to allow Jorya to recover. However, it was costly to me: my blue blade turned my opponent’s red blade away from me, but it also brought him into close-quarters proximity to me. Making use of the opening, Mellichae’s powerful right cybernetic arm shot forward, his hand grabbing around my throat, his fingers a crushing grip that attempted to cut off my oxygen. I knew that I had only seconds. Dropping my lightsaber, I clamped my own cybernetic right hand onto his, barely stopping the vice-like grip threatening to choke the life from me. It was a stop-gap and Mellichae knew it; staring into my face, the Zabrak smiled savagely, eyes as cold as the piercing blue of his irises. “Die, jedi” the sound of his voice sounded like bones being ground under foot. His lightsaber raised, intent on cleaving my head.

The confused look on his face filled me with satisfaction: before his arm could fall, I’d called my shoto to my left hand, activating the lightsaber as soon as I gained purchase on the hilt. The silver blade impaled his left shoulder, his hand lifeless. As his lightsaber dropped from his useless fingers, I arced my shoto bisecting his cybernetic right arm mid-bicep causing it to fall away from my throat. Almost immediately afterwards, I called upon a Force Push that slammed into Mellichae, throwing him bodily against the far bulkhead. Hitting with a sickening crash, the Zabrak fell to the floor, unmoving. Gulping air in my wounded neck, each time I inhaled I felt a burning pain. For a moment, I stared at Mellichae, ensuring that he was indeed unconscious.

Jorya! I thought, worried that I’d been too focused on the Zabrak. Turning my head, I saw her engage her opponent in a series of deceptively quick strikes. Even now, I couldn’t help but feel pride; she had become more than just competent at Jar’Kai: she was truly adept. And even as I collected myself, she pressed hard offensively; her blue and violet sabers a polychromatic cloud of activity. Hammering the Sith-Shadow’s tonfa aside, she kicked out connecting solidly in her opponent’s solar plexus. As the Sith-Shadow attempted to suck in breath, Jorya followed with a roundhouse kick that knocked the Sith-Shadow to the floor, comatose.

“Nicely done, Dear One,” my voice croaked. Hearing the pain in my voice, the Togruta closed down her lightsabers and ran towards me. Gently, she placed both of her hands on my raw, red neck.

“Father!” I could feel her healing flow from the Force attempting to mitigate the injury. Slowly, I felt the tightness in my throat begin to relax, the blistering pain in my shoulder and tricep lessen. Breathing easier, I shook my head in thanks to my daughter.

“Thank you, Dear One.” My voice sounded closer to its natural baritone, gratitude evident in my tone. Looking into the Togruta’s eyes, I assured her, “I’m better, Jorya. Really.” As I stared straight ahead, she followed my gaze to the unconscious Zabrak.

“Master, now what?” Her concern was evident as she spoke.

Pulling myself up to my full height, I started walking towards Mellichae. “Now?”

Jorya turned her head, from me to the Zabrak and back to me.

“Now,” I told her, “We get some answers.”

Chapter 4: Lessons, Past and Future

After a short time, Jorya and I had the Sith-Shadow and Mellichae tied back-to-back using some of the nylasteel rope we’d brought. Short of a vibroknife or lightsaber, the two prisoners would remain bound. They were still both unconscious and I knew that Mellichae would need some bacta treatments in order to recover. He should be effectively out of the fight.

“Jorya, I need for you to keep vigilant for anyone who comes within range of your senses. I will have to wake Mellichae to get answers.” It was not a prospect I was necessarily looking forward to.

She nodded but then asked, “Why do you need him awake, Master?” She had both of her lightsabers in hand, ready to ignite.

“In order for me to get specific answers, I need to have the Zabrak awake. Otherwise, I would have to search the proverbial ocean of his mind, rudderless.” What I didn’t tell her was that while it was technically possible, I had neither the time nor the aptitude to successfully entertain such an endeavor. As it was, I still had to ask advice from D’Aylanna before I began.

“Don’t forget: tether yourself to an anchor,” she added, “You must not allow the Zabrak to distract you from your objective.” Gratefully, I thanked her and prepared myself. Breathe. Balance. Be like water.

“OK Jorya. Keep watch for us while I get the answers we need. Interrupt me immediately if you sense trouble.” She nodded, concern written across her face. She gave me a tentative smile, which I returned with what I hoped was a confident one. Then, I focused entirely on the task at hand and the Zabrak at my feet.

Crouching, I inhaled momentarily before beginning. Slapping Mellichae across the face hard, I saw his eyes open, roll briefly back into his head, and then try to regain focus. Simultaneously, I used Force Suppression to lower his resistance to my Force probe. After about a minute or so, I could tell that he was lucid enough to answer my questions. More importantly, his mind would be susceptible to enquiry. As I delved into his mind, I spoke softly, almost hypnotically. “Tell me where Jennira Hri is. Tell me where the Adegan Pontite is being mined. Tell me what Namman Cha intends to use the kyber crystals for.”

A scene different from what I’d witnessed before began to coalesce, this time without any sound: a collection of crevices that glowed an unnerving green hue vibrated regularly. The canyons cut so deep that the sky was not visible. As I probed further, I saw a pale, tall woman again. This time, she was standing among several pulsating crystal-lattice lodes that lined the canyon walls. She wore blood-red hooded robes and her pale face had several charcoal-black markings across her eyes and mouth. Her silver irises were surrounded by black, which pulsed in time with the surrounding crystals. “Tell me where Jennira Hri is. Tell me where the Adegan Pontite is being mined. Tell me what Namman Cha intends to use the kyber crystals for.” I repeated. The tableau melted away amidst a murky sea of memory.

Focus. Find center. Anchor. Concentrate. I saw sand. But not just any sand, black sand, peppered with rutilated quartz. Good, that will narrow down the possible sites. Rutile would only form in high temperature climes, near sea level. Still, I continued. I MUST know exactly where. Again, the black sand, peppered with rutilated quartz. Then I saw evidence of gneissic banding in the surrounding rock strata. In geology, this was known as a “crystalline ‘basement.’” Of course, I told myself. And on Kuat, there was only one such geographic area that had such a combination of geology and climate.

Kuat had been terraformed millennia ago by the first human colonization. By and large, the planet had been transformed into a lush and verdant paradise. However, around the equator some subsea-level badlands had formed as a result of tectonics and weather. And in only one area did gneissic banding occur in ravines.

Canticum Lowlands.

Suddenly, the memory shifted, cloudy and frenetic. Abruptly, there was a vision of a man. He had a pale, cruel face marked with red tattoos that ran vertically from his neck to his hair, the yellow eyes of a Sith looked out from underneath his merciless brow. As suddenly as the image formed, it…shattered. I felt as if I’d stepped onto an ice flow that became an avalanche that crashed as a tsunami into a whirlpool. This is not natural, came the thought, unbidden. I focused my eyes, seeing that Mellichae was again Singing. D’Aylanna had warned me. Quickly, remembering what she told me, I found my anchor and held on with a deathgrip.

Outwardly, anyone who saw would just think that I was crouching in front of the Zabrak as we stared unblinkingly into each other’s eyes, his ice blue into my hazel. But to any Force-sensitive, there was a raging tempest roaring between us taking place on a metaphysical level. Mellichae’s lips curled into a small smile. As the Zabrak’s Song tore into me, I felt as if ice cold enough to burn was bathing my skin in lava. A deafening cacophony of unending silence threatened to devour everything while a blinding nothingness attempted to subsume my very being.

And still: I held on.

The Zabrak’s forehead was covered in sweat, his eyes narrowed in both concentration and agony. As much as he tried to consume me, his Song was also reverberating against him. And the more that I fought, the harder it was hitting him. He was no longer smiling.

Finally, Mellichae’s head sunk to his chest, his breathing ragged, swift, and unsteady. Saliva mixed with blood began to stream from his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head, exposing only the white sclera. My own breathing came in great gulps of air and my heart hammered in my chest. It was only then that I felt Jorya’s hands upon me, attempting to hold my head. Slowly, my hearing regained normality. I could tell that my daughter had been calling my name.

“Master! Father! DAD! ZEARIC! PLEASE!” The concern in her voice was laced with terror, her eyes watery and wide. Slowly, my eyes focused, seeing her apprehension.

She was on her knees; I didn’t realize that I’d fallen to the floor. “Thank you, Dear One. You did it.” In a fury of motion, my daughter hugged me in a fierce embrace. From my ear, I could hear D’Aylanna congratulate me…and castigate me.

“Shakal, you did well. But you should have never left yourself exposed, especially to a Dark Singer. You must not EVER imperil yourself like that!” I could almost see her dark eyes flash in anger and frustration.

“I love you, too, Ereneda.” I said with a hint of humor.

I could almost see my wife pause and smile with her dark blue lips. “And I, you, Shakal. Now, get yourself and Jorya back to Fenris’ Dirge as swiftly and safely as possible. I will direct on overwatch.” I heard her sigh subtly. “Be warned: the guards seem to have doubled in the last hour.”

“Will do. And thank you, Ereneda.” I looked into my daughter’s eyes. “And thank you, Dear One.” Her eyes shone with unwept tears, her smile both loving and anxious. “But your mother’s right: we need to get out of here.”

Releasing her embrace, Jorya stood, looking at Mellichae. “Father, what about him?” Even injured as he was and weakened besides, the Zabrak glared hatred at me.

In answer, I balled up my fist, my punch quickly snapping his head to the side, knocking the Zabrak unconscious. “Now, let’s go.” Standing with the help of my daughter’s extended hand, I collected myself briefly while I went through a mental Force tactic, bolstering my tired body and mind. It worked. Mostly.

Calling my lightsaber to my hand, I attached it to my belt opposite my shoto. Jorya took point this time, for which I was thankful. I could feel her presence in the Force as she delved outward searching for life signs. Once again using our Order’s hand signals, she gave the “all clear” and quickly trotted up the hallways we’d taken from the control room.

Once at the entrance, Jorya held up her small fist. Not speaking a word, she “told” me that there were “four enemies—two near, two far—past the door.” Nodding my understanding, she put her lips right next to my left ear. “Father, I have ‘far.’ And I will project a Neural Storm at them before we enter.”

A determined set to my mouth, I slowly nodded. A Neural Storm used the Force to overload the target’s brain, causing extreme but momentary disorientation. It was most effective against non-Force-sensitives. And it made sense; she was uninjured and more alert, although her mental abilities were…not lacking, just somewhat untested. Well, no time like the present. “Jorya, remember: precision and acuity are crucial. You are not so much as bludgeoning an obstacle but rather threading a needle.” I also included a bit of my Nexu Teachings even though she was not a Water Warrior nor could be considered for such until she’d achieved maenowan status. But I knew that her Force potential was greater than mine and she was more mature than I had been at her age. “Remember, be formless until that moment when you’ve accumulated every fiber of your being…and strike.”

Resolute, she gave a small nod. Outwardly, nothing about her stature changed. Like D’Aylanna had instructed me, I had taught Jorya to never telegraph her powers, neither in intent nor execution. But any Force-sensitive would have felt Jorya’s aura focus. She looked at me and keyed the entrance open. By the Maker she was fast. Even as I followed through the opening doors, she was already on top of her two objectives. They were swaying bodily from side-to-side. Clearly, her Neural Storm had worked.

Concentrating on the task at hand, I approached the first of two Sith-Shadows near me. Like Jorya’s targets, they acted as if intoxicated. The first fell to a quick, well placed strike with my right. However, the second was already beginning to recover. No time for anything fancy, I brought the heel of my boot down hard upon the Sith-Shadows kneecap. Falling forward, his head connected with the left hook that I’d thrown. Seeing his head snap around, I knew that it was a knockout shot. A coughing fit reminded me that I still wasn’t in peak condition at the moment. I felt a gentle touch on my back and arm as Jorya helped steady me.

“Dad? Are you sure you’re OK?” Her face looked so apprehensive, it almost hurt me to see. Slowly, she rubbed my arm while I felt her healing flow through my body.

“I am, thanks to you.” Looking past her, I saw that all four Sith-Shadows were lying prostrate upon the ground. “But unless you want to make some new acquaintances, I suggest that we leave and quickly.” Seeing her wry grin helped to assuage the guilt I was beginning to feel.

We retraced our steps, D’Aylanna a welcome disembodied voice directing us as needed. Thankfully, we were able to traverse the span using the same acrobatic strategy that we’d used before. Like before, we used the rafter walkways to avoid detection. I only slipped once; luckily Jorya didn’t notice. Once we arrived back at the elevator shaft, we used the nylasteel smartrope to ascend the shaft back to the rooftops. Our relief was palpable when we saw Fenris’ Dirge silently hovering a meter above the building. Running the final meters, D’Aylanna had perfectly timed the rear hatch opening that the aperture was wide enough for us both to jump in. We barely had enough time to strap in when we felt the inertia of acceleration upon our bodies.

Finally relaxing, my breathing began to slow to normal. D’Aylanna expertly piloted us towards Kuat City; we had a docking berth secured where we would resupply and heal up for the day before having to confront the Night Sister. We were silent en route and I used the time for meditation. And reflection.

As soon as I felt the inertia of the landing thrusters, I became immediately attentive. Walking slowly from the cockpit, D’Aylanna’s small frame was outlined from the lights filtering in from the transparisteel canopy. Helping me up from my seat, my wife put her arm around my waist as we three walked into the conference room, sitting around the crowded table while Jorya prepared food and drinks for us. And as we all ate our meal, I related my experiences and visions to the two women.

“So. Jennira is at the Canticum Lowlands. Which means that we can’t just approach to land there. We’ll have to disembark from a hidden site some distance hence. And in those canyons, the Sith-Shadows will have the advantage; too many defilades to account for. To say nothing of the crystal-lattice that the witch can use against us.”

Closing my eyes, I rested my head atop D’Aylanna’s midnight-blue hair. “I may have a few ideas about that.” I said almost distractedly. “We must be able to counter Jennira’s Song. Mellichae surprised me tonight; that will not happen again. But it doesn’t change the fact that the witch will be a much stronger Singer. And—as you say, Ereneda—she has access to an arsenal of Pontite cryst…Hmm.” I had a thought but before I could voice it, Jorya spoke up.

“Father…how did you defeat the Zabrak’s Song? The last time…I thought…well, that…that I’d lost you.” Her timid smile was indicative of her concern, her eyes large and wet.

I felt D’Aylanna bury her head closer into my chest, a low chuckle escaping her blue lips. Yes, she would know.

Looking at Jorya, my face earnest I told her, “No, Dear One. Mellichae’s Song was potent…but I had my anchor. And I knew that he could not prevail against it.”

The Togruta hung onto every word. When I didn’t continue, she asked, her voice equal parts exasperation and curiosity, “…And your anchor was?”

Smiling warmly, I asked, “Can you not guess?” A look of consternation on her face, Jorya shook her head. My voice was full of the warmth that I felt. “You, Dear One. Your Mother. The most important part of my life: you two, my family.”

Settling back on her seat, a look of introspection crossed her face. Then, in a flurry of movement, she joined D’Aylanna and I in a three-way embrace, Jorya laughing. I tightly held them to me, grateful for them. At least for tonight, we were together, safe and sound.

Tomorrow, we would go against Jennira. But we were better prepared. We knew that we could not possibly win in a frontal assault. But, like I’d told my family, I had some ideas.

Tomorrow, Jennira would learn what a Water Warrior could do. And her Song would be inundated. I just hope that she didn’t drown as a result…

Chapter 5: Free Fall

Darkness, but not complete. It was just about 30 minutes to dawn and the red light of the interior of Fenris’ Dirge cast fractured shadows over our faces, Jorya and I. Looking at my chronometer, I saw that we still had about 2 minutes before we would begin. Looking at the Togruta, I saw that she had all of the outward appearance of calm. But her presence in the Force was another story entirely. Again, she was equal parts anticipation and excitement. The only indication of her apprehension was that she was caressing her lightsaber hilt while checking the emitter for clearance. Good, she is an excellent student; certainly better than I was at her age, I told myself. And during the interim, I allowed myself to think back earlier in the evening…

“…and so, Master Karmack left instructions. And, of course his warning. As far as your question, Master D’Aylanna, Master Karmack was certain the crystalline lattice would propagate the signal on an exponential frequency.” The koawan’s silver hair shone even over holovid, her kindly face sympathetic and wise.

“Thank you ever so much, Koawan Telow’na. My husband was of like enquiry when it came to Oscillation Mechanics. Please convey our collective thanks and goodwill to Master Karmack and Lady Arnor. Fenris’ Dirge out.”

The holovid disappeared, leaving me filled with trepidation. That was the missing piece that I couldn’t think of the night before; Karm’s experiences were the working hypothesis that I’d needed. I just hoped that my suppositions were correct. Of course, if they were, it also meant that Jennira would easily overpower us with her Song.

But…sometimes you had to roll a hard twelve.

As red light turned to green, casting a verdant hue in the bay, I was forced from my ruminations. Time. In our ears, we heard D’Aylanna go over her last-minute itinerary: “I will check the primary site; with luck it will be sufficient for landing. If not, it will take an additional 10-20 minutes if I must disembark from secondary or tertiary sites. And Jorya, Shakal: be careful.”

“Love you too, Ereneda.” I whispered while doing Final Checks on Jorya. Once finished, she and I reversed roles. I also used the time to go over advice: “Remember Jorya, don’t deploy until your HUD reads ‘500’ or under. I’ll be with you the entire way.” By then, my chronometer read “+27 seconds.” Shaking my head, I saw my daughter out of the corner of my eye as we moved to the rear hatch while securing our breathing masks. And silently counting down from “three” with my fingers, I hit the gate controls…and stepped out into nothing.

Even at 12,000 meters, I thought I could see our objective. But we were falling and falling fast. I did the math in my head: transit would take just 3.5 minutes and by the time we hit our chutes, we’ll be traveling at 54 meters per second. But we’d circumvent the entrance to the canyons, avoiding countless Sith-Shadows. Or so I hoped.

Three minutes.

Again, I found myself contemplative, thinking back to earlier in the evening…

“Yes. The Oscillator should lock onto the resonant frequency. I’m just not absolutely certain that the crystalline-lattice will enact propagation.” I attempted not to agonize but I knew that my brow was furrowed with worry. “Well…I guess we’ll find out once we get there,” I said light-heartedly in an attempt to dispel my former mood. It worked. Somewhat.

“Yes, Shakal. But what about the surrounding strata? I don’t think that there is enough igneous rock to support Fenris’ Dirge here. However, I’ve scanned for potential harbors that I can utilize for a landing.” She put her hand into the holovid, zooming it in. “I believe that I’ve found three adequate spots in which I can disembark from.” She twisted her fingers, tightening in on the map. Looking at me, I could tell by her dark eyes that she wasn’t at all happy with any of the three prospects. But we were limited with what we could work with…

Kuat’s sun was peaking over the horizon, my helmet’s filters darkening to compensate for the increased illumination. The green clouds were still below me but Jorya and I were fast approaching their elevation.

Two minutes.

Even as we prepared the evening prior, we discussed the events in the manufactory…

“No, Ereneda, the Zabrak could not only hear the Song, he was a Dark Singer. And while I’m not certain of what that portends, I think it’s reasonable to assume that his ‘relationship’ with Jennira is more than professional. She must be teaching him.” I paced about conference room…as much as the confined space would let me.

D’Aylanna’s eyebrow arched, the hint of a smile upon her blue lips. “Indeed, Shakal? And here I thought Master Karmack’s information regarding the Night Sisters’ ‘Warren-Clan’ posited just that poss—no, probability. Her Sith-Shadow are her chattel-brood.”

Looking at her with a hint of exasperation, I crossed my arms. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Still, I could see the humor in it…if only for the sardonic undertone. Taking a breath, I continued. “Ereneda, I think that she actually considers Mellichae more than just her ‘brood.’ That’s why even his nascent skill at Singing was so potent: she has been not just teaching him but supplementing him. Remember what Karm and Arnor told us? When two or more Singers are together—or are bonded—they propagate their influence on the Song. The whole becomes more than the sum of its parts…”

I could now see details in the landscape, even if minute. The vast Canticum Lowlands were spread out before us as Jorya and I fell unimpeded to the planet below.

One minute.

But it was in that moment, last night, that we laid the last of our plans out for our encounter with the Night Sister and her Sith-Shadows…

“Mother, Father…I know that we’ve already agreed upon the strategy of our tactics but…I think that it would be better that it be me. Jennira is expecting either one of you to do something.” Her blue eyes shifted from D’Aylanna’s and back to mine. “But I doubt that she’d think that I could do anything. Let me do it.” The confident set of her face was only momentarily belied by her nervous habit to tap the index finger of her left hand as she awaited our decision. By the Maker I was proud of her.

I was about to open my mouth to speak when D’Aylanna’s voice overrode me…if inadvertently. “Jorya. This not only requires acute precision but also sublime stealth and no small amount of luck.” D’Aylanna’s dark eyes burrowed into Jorya’s, the Togruta bowing her head. My wife’s head turned slightly, the light causing the midnight blue in her hair to shine out. “I think that your proposal is not only valid but helps to guarantee the best chances of success.” D’Aylanna turned towards me. “Don’t you agree, Shakal?”

“Implicitly, Ereneda.” I agreed immediately. Jorya looked up at both of us, pride and love radiating from her slowly widening grin. “We believe in you, Dear One.”

A warning sounded from my HUD; we were at 500 meters altitude. Pulling the ripcord, my chute deployed in a split-second. I went from 54 meters per second to 6 meters per second, slowing further as I manipulated the jesses, pulling the chute concavely. Scanning the sky, I was able to spy Jorya; like an expert, she’d deployed within a second of me. Good.

If anyone was looking skyward, they would be very hard-pressed to see us: our chutes were made of Hapan light-scattering materials, as were the jumpsuits we wore. They not only worked with visible light but also with the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums. Not for the first time was I grateful for D’Aylanna’s Hapan relations.

Looking down, I saw that we were within 10 meters of our target landing zone. Good. I quickly looked at my chronometer. It read “+231.” Focusing on the ground, I pulled hard on the jesses, finally walking myself to a landing. As soon as I felt anchored, I pulled on the ripcord again, stowing my chute back in my outer pack. Hitting the button on the center of my chest, the outer pack unlatched and I shrugged out of it. Once done, I removed the jumpsuit, exposing my black tac-utilities underneath. Turning my head to the side, I saw that Jorya was already doing the same. Using our hand signals, I told her “come here” and “take a knee.”

When our heads were next to one another, I quietly went over our checklist. Looking into her eyes, I was confident that she was as ready as she could be. I briefly looked skyward, saying a silent litany for D’Aylanna and then another for us. I approached the crevice, stopping just short of the drop. Behind me, Jorya was already at work belaying herself.

Hooking our nylasteel lines in a fissure that ran the horizontal length of the mesa top, we prepared to rappel down the sheer sides. If our calculations were correct, we were within 25 meters of the main crystalline-lattice structure. Which also meant that we were quite literally on top of Jennira. Taking a calming breath, I looked at Jorya, smiled, silently mouthing “good luck” and stepped off the ledge.

And into the blackness of the unknown.

Chapter 6: Fractures

Locking the descender and braking my plunge, I silently stopped. The canyon walls were dark. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew that the floor of the canyon was still some tens of meters distant. But even as I hung suspended in mid-air, I could occasionally hear noises echoing up from below. It was the reason that I’d had to brake now. Must be Jennira’s Warren-Clan I told myself. I frowned. This deep in enemy territory, I would not have the luxury of mercy…but I would still try.

Closing my eyes momentarily, I thought of the panoramic sight of the Canticum Lowlands from the sky above. Running every direction of the compass, canyons cut deep lines in the ground, like fractures in glass. Deceptively beautiful, the Lowlands were home to large deposits of Adegan Pontite. And hanging within one of the canyons, I felt as if I were descending into the Underworld. Above, an obscured sky that filtered the sun’s light; below, an unnerving greenish-yellow glow the pulsed sluggishly. The crystalline-lattice.

Once I heard the echoing sounds retreat, I waited a ten-count and began to descend again. Continuing down, I began to see Pontite crystals lining the walls. My senses registered feelings of…menace. The witch’s Song. Growing stronger the further I descended, the indistinct feelings began to coalesce into something more…substantial, yet…subtle.

SUBMIT REPEL SUBMIT REPEL SUBMIT REPEL…

Almost a caress, the Song here was seductive, if…repulsive. At least to my mind. To the Sith-Shadow? I’m certain that they were enticed. Still, it was unnerving…like a grinding just below the hearing threshold. Gritting my teeth, I continued downward into the bowels of the canyon, submerging into the depths of the Night Sister’s Song and the sickening pulsation from the crystals.

As soon as my boots touched the ground, I hit the release on the nylasteel smartrope, retracting it. Looking first behind and then before me, I realized that there was little use in stealth: the twists and turns in the canyon were such that line-of-sight was only about 3-4 meters. Opening myself to the Force, I let it flow from me. Unsurprisingly, I felt dozens of life forms on both sides. Checking my chronometer, I mentally nodded. It was time.

Hoping that my hypothesis was correct, I flooded the canyon with Force Suppression, directing my attention behind me. I knew that it would eventually alert Jennira to my presence…but that was my intent. I could feel the Sith-Shadows respond: the life forms began to approach, cautiously. Come and get me, nerf-herders. Taking both lightsaber hilts in hand, I began to jog forward, careful to avoid the crystals jutting out from the surrounding strata. Simultaneously, I projected my Force Suppression in front of me. Expectedly, I came across the first Sith-Shadow in no time. Breathe. Balance. Be water. Crash.

Igniting both of my lightsabers, the blue and silver blades cast a panoply of radiance in the canyon, a cleansing light that banished the oppressive green luminosity of the crystals. Now running, I cut down the Sith-Shadow before she could get a bead on me with her blaster. Two more ahead, around the bend I told myself. Like the Agr of Kashyyyk, my assault was swift, relentless, lethal. The narrow canyon funneled their efforts, allowing me to easily intercept their blaster bolts, often deflecting them back. Four, five Sith-Shadows fell under my blades. And still more came. On the edge of my perception, I could feel Jorya as a lone island of virtue, unwavering in her convictions and actions. She was fast approaching me now, having completed her task. I grinned, hopeful that my plan would work.

DANGER KILL DANGER KILL DANGER KILL…

I felt the potency of the Song increase. Jennira knew we were here. I had to be extra vigiliant. Two Sith-Shadows appeared in front of me. I didn’t bother with anything elaborate; a simple yet powerful Force Push battered them aside. Crashing into some of the crystals, they rebounded off the canyon wall, collapsing as I ran onward.

Suddenly, the narrow tunnel opened into a vast chamber. Located in the center, I saw a tall, pale woman upon a throne, the very image from my memory when I’d delved Mellichae’s mind. So, Jennira. Flanking her throne were several archaic items atop various pedestals. Still running, I looked quickly left and then right and strewn throughout the chamber were Sith-Shadows. At least I could be indiscriminate with my targets. Closing the distance with the nearest, I engaged the Sith-Shadows, my lightsabers an impenetrable defense against their blasters. Whenever they came into my proximity, the Sith-Shadows were cut down. Regrettable, but necessary.

Jennira’s Song began to hammer against me, still unfocused but severe enough that I could no longer sustain the offensive. Soon it was all that I could do to keep the worst effects of the Song at bay while deflecting the blaster bolts.

DANGER KILL DANGER KILL DANGER KILL…

And, right on time, I saw Jorya from the far tunnel join the fray. Having flanked them, her brutal attack scythed through the Sith-Shadows. And none too soon; I was beginning to falter in my deflect/defense pattern. She soon joined me and we fought back-to-back, her violet and blue blades complimenting my own blue and silver.

And had it been just the Sith-Shadows, I’m certain that Jorya and I would have prevailed.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL…

The Sith-Shadows had pulled back as Jennira walked imperiously forward, Singing. Jorya fell, hands clutching her head as the Song tore into her. Screaming yet courageous, the Togruta attempted to rise. Even as the first Sith-Shadow attacked her, Jorya fought him off. Courageous…yet futile. Two, three, four surrounded her, seizing her arms and legs, the Sith-Shadows subdued her. All of this in as many seconds.

Meanwhile, I was fighting furiously against Jennira’s Song…but I was barely holding on. Each step she took, the strength of her Singing grew, the surrounding crystals burned brighter, pulsing faster, a chorus of dissonance. My arms grew weak as my lightsabers weighed them down. Closer still, Jennira Sang. The crystalline-lattice was pulsating now.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL…

My mind in agony, my lightsabers dropped from my hands as I attempted to stop my ears, even though the Song wasn’t broadcast audibly but rather metaphysically. While I still stood, I could feel blood begin to drip from my nose and ears. The crystalline-lattice was strobing now.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL…

I went down on one knee, hard. I could feel a blood vessel in my right eye rupture. With my left hand I tried to staunch the flow of blood that now ran freely from both of my nostrils. In my ears I felt a piercing scream; only after a moment did I realize that it was my own. The crystalline-lattice was shimmering now.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL…

I doubled over in agony; the pain was exquisite as the Song was deadly. Even the injuries I’d sustained when I’d pulled the ceiling atop Gaetana and I paled in comparison to how much I hurt now. And still Jennira Sang. The crystalline-lattice was a constant burning light like a star igniting to life.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL…

I only knew that I lived because of the pain. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t act. I only knew that there was one thing in the universe and it was pain. The crystalline-lattice was a star going hypernova.

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

A silence so deafening assaulted my very being. Even though the Song had stopped, the pain remained, if diminished. I opened my eyes, sweat and blood pouring from my head. Looking up, I saw Jennira smiling arrogantly down at me. Encircling me were dozens of Sith-Shadows. To my right, Jorya had collapsed prostrate. Mercifully, she had fallen unconscious although blood dripped from her ears, nose, and mouth.

“So.” Jennira’s voice was supple like silk. How could something so…evil sound so sweet? some part of me wondered. “You are the fools that have disturbed my plans.” Slowly, she circled around me, unconcerned. Stopping in front of me, she stared straight into my eyes. “Search him.”

Rough hands examined my body. Even if I had the strength, I would have been unable to fend them off. Creating a small pile in front of me, the Sith-Shadows were thorough in their search. Trying to be inconspicuous, I looked for my chronometer but it must have been at the bottom of the heap. Coughing, I spat blood.

“Did you really think that you could attack us? Here?” Jennira’s brow arched, her tone incredulous. To emphasize her skepticism, she kicked me for good measure. Compared to what I’d just experienced, it was a dull thing, her kick. I smiled.

Whatever she had thought before, my smile gave her pause. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What possible reason would you have to smile about?!” Even shrill, her voice was…beautiful.

I looked up staring straight into her strange silver and black eyes. “Because—” another coughing fit interrupted me, “—I know something that you do not.” Not taking my eyes from hers, I spit obstinately. And waited.

Nothing happened. Had I miscalculated the timing?

The Night Sister’s face looked amused. “What could that be? Some myth come true? That the Jacipri Creation story is factual? Perhaps Uhanayih really is the Yinchorri ‘Within World’ that their religion tells them? Or how about that the Aethans were real and are coming back to life to immolate all of the ‘imperfect Jedi?’”

Jennira looked on expectantly, clearly waiting for me to continue. Think, dammit! I knew that I had to stall. And hope.

“Julwynn has betrayed you.” My voice and my mind filled with conviction as I hoped that the lie sounded sincere. My eyes remained unblinking, my breath slow, if ragged.

The Night Sister’s face changed; fury contorted what was a beautiful visage to something menacing and baleful. “How…DARE you?!”

And she began to Sing.

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE…

I screamed, I screamed until I had no voice, and then I screamed some more. Tears ran from my eyes, joining the blood running down my face. I closed my eyes tightly. The Song shredded into my muscles, breaking into bones, tearing into my soul. Yes…yes, please. Death… NO! Find…Anchor… an iota of myself spoke as if far, far away…

…It was several seconds—an eternity—that I finally realized that Jennira’s Singing had stopped. Opening my eyes—only my cybernetic eye saw clearly—I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Jennira was clawing at her eyes, as were her Sith-Shadows. All of them were reeling in pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, my mind began to clear.

And then I knew.

D’Aylanna had finally arrived. The Optic-Thermal Induction grenades she’d used had disoriented and impaired everyone in the room. The Sith-Shadows that hadn’t all congregated in the main chamber had been…dealt with by D’Aylanna.

Which meant that everyone was together in close proximity. Maybe it was luck, or maybe the will of the Force, or maybe the Maker had taken pity on me. Regardless, it was time to enact the most important part of my plan.

D’Aylanna stood over Jorya and I protectively, violet lightsaber held at the ready. I couldn’t stand; by the Maker I could barely breathe. But I couldn’t let us down. “Jorya,” my voice sounded off…probably because my ears had ruptured. “Did you set the Oscillator?” I spit more blood.

Looking at me, the Togruta’s eyes were bruised, blood trickling from both of them in small rivulets. But the small smile that played on her cracked lips told the tale. She nodded, a quick, deliberate movement. Thank the Maker.

I raised my head to D’Aylanna. “Do it.”

Face resolute, my wife reached into one of her pouches, withdrawing an innocuous-looking device. As with many things in life, looks could be deceiving.

I could see that many of the Sith-Shadows were recovering. Jennira’s head was shaking to-and-fro, attempting to focus. Her eyes locked onto mine, then she looked at D’Aylanna, scowling in confusion as she did so.

Without embellishment, D’Aylanna touched the button, activating the Tandem-Oscillation Engine.

The Pontite crystals began to react immediately. As they had under the influence of the witch’s Song, they now pulsed with light. However, this time they were also physically vibrating, producing a droning hum.

!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!

The Night Sister’s confusion slowly turned to anxiousness, her Sith-Shadow chattel looking around, perplexed. The crystals began to whine, shaking perceptibly.

!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!

Jennira’s eyes had opened as wide as they could, apprehension turning to fear, her Sith-Shadow now beginning to panic. The crystals began to wail, fractures forming.

!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!

The witch looked about in abject horror, her Sith-Shadow turning to her for guidance only to realize that she was powerless. The crystals began to scream, cracks running the entire lattice.

!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!....!

Jennira’s eyes had rolled up into her head, blood and spittle dripping from her mouth, her body beginning to convulse from a seizure. The crystals began to shriek and, in a keening pitch, the lattice shattered.

***GRAY***

With the destruction of the entire crystalline-lattice, the canyon was cloaked in darkness, the lone light shining from D’Aylanna’s amethyst blade. Jorya was slowly rising; the Night Sister had focused her anger—and retribution—almost entirely on me. I smiled, grateful that both my wife and daughter had been spared the worst. Still, I forced myself to look around. I felt soft hands upon my shoulders, healing flows strengthening me.

The Night Sister had collapsed, her body misshapen, contorted in agony. D’Aylanna went over to her and I felt the Force flowing from her. “She’s comatose.” Her pronouncement relieved me and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized that I was holding. My wife turned to me. “You were correct, Shakal. She had bonded them to herself through her Song.”

The Sith-Shadows scattered about in the chamber lay where they fell, dead to a person. As D’Aylanna made her rounds, she inspected each one in turn. “Shakal, look.” Holding up one of the Sith-Shadows, a Mirialan, D’Aylanna turned his head towards me. It took me a moment but I saw that his eyes looked as if they had been burned out. Sinking back to the ground, I allowed myself to relax. Jorya continued her healing. Feeling as if I could finally stand, I asked the Togruta to help me to my feet. Even with her aid, I almost fell. But at least I could find that I could walk, if faltering and slow.

Meanwhile, as D’Aylanna continued her search of the chamber, I went to inspect the witch’s throne and surrounding pedestals. The chair was nothing remarkable but the dark gray plinths held a menagerie of items, gross and exotic. One item seemingly out of place caught my eye in particular: a war dagger that sat upon the top of the gray stone surface. It was pitch black, darker than a black hole past the event horizon, blacker than Jennira’s vile heart. Tentatively, I ran my fingers down along the fuller in the center of the blade towards the quillions, and finally the hilt. Incredibly, it was all one piece. Picking it up, I was amazed at the weight. While it was well balanced, it felt heavier in hand than it should. “Jorya, would you please bring me my shoto.” Normally, I would have called it to myself…but after what Jennira’s Song had done to me, I was lucky to be standing.

“Here, Father,” Jorya handed me the lightsaber and continued to rub my back, again using her skills in the Force to heal. Grateful, I thanked her, nudging her montrail with my forehead.

With a snap-hiss, the silver blade sprang to life, further illuminating the cavernous chamber. Holding it up to the dagger, the light seemed to…be absorbed by the black materiel. Incredible.

“Father what is it?” My daughter’s voice inquisitive, her focus entirely on the dagger. “Is…is that obsidian?” She turned her blue eyes towards me as she handed me my pack. I saw that she’d collected all of the items that the Sith-Shadows had taken from me.

“…No, Dear One. Obsidian is brittle; sharp, yes but…brittle. This…this is extremely hard. In fact…I don’t know what it is.” I racked my brain for possibilities, thinking of one of the geological databases that I frequented. And came up with nothing. Granted, I was also not in the best of health, mental or otherwise. Still: this was a mystery that begged to be solved. Later, I told myself and put the dagger in one of the pockets of my pack.

Allowing myself time for introspection, I replayed the particulars of my plan. Thanks to Karm, we knew that the crystalline-lattice would propagate signals. My hypothesis was: if it did so to signals, then it probably would any other wave mechanism. Hence: the Tandem-Oscillation Engine. Jorya set the first machine as I rappelled in; coupled with D’Aylanna’s, the two devices reinforced the effect exponentially. They locked onto the resonant frequency of an object—in this case, the crystalline-lattice—and produced wave oscillations targeting that singular harmonic. The result? The crystalline-lattice literally shook itself apart. And since Jennira’s Singing would have the same “frequency,” the lattice being attuned to her…

I thought of the Night Sister. No wonder she was in a coma. I was surprised that it hadn’t killed her. And—again—thanks in no small part to Mak’Tor intel, I thought that the witch would bond her Sith-Shadows to her, strengthening her Song even more. She must’ve tethered them tightly to her. Or…perhaps they somehow absorbed the damage, knocking her unconscious instead of killing her? Regardless, the result had the desired outcome, thank the Maker…

Looking back, I saw that D’Aylanna had prepared the Night Sister: she had placed her in a transport sack from D’Aylanna’s pack, ready for abseiling. The smart ropes would do the work while we made our ascent from the canyon floor to the mesa tops above. But our objective was far from done. We still had to learn why the witch was attempting to program the Pontite.

And what the Pontite was being used for.

Chapter 7: Ramifications

“Jorya? Dear One?” Mother’s regal voice woke me. I’d fallen asleep on the chair again. Slowly, I stretched my legs out from under me. My toes had fallen asleep. So what? After everything else does that really matter?!

“Yes, Mother?” I stood, looking down at her beautiful dark blue hair. “Is it Father? Are they done?”

I could tell by Mother’s dark eyes that it wasn’t good news. Her unusual blue lips had a hard set to them, not quite a frown. “Your Father is…not well. The GraySingers, they must…they need time.”

Mother never faltered. I now knew that things were bad, very bad. “But…but I thought that the GraySingers were the best healers?” I was several centimeters taller than mother but right now…I felt very…small.

Mother looked kindly at me. “They are Dear One. But none of them are Master Karmack, Sage of Song.” Mother’s emphasis wasn’t lost on me. While we were lucky to have some GraySingers on Sekot at the moment, they still weren’t as powerful as Master Karmack. “Dear One…I need you to go to the Archive of Balance. We still don’t know anything more about the Pontite or what Jennira intended of them. Look for anything related to ‘Adegan Pontite’ and ‘Dathomir.’”

When she turned to go, I grabbed her arm. Realizing what I’d done, I almost dropped my hand, but…something made me persevere. “But…where are you going Mother?” I…I had to look away when she stared right into my eyes. How was she able to keep composure?

“…I must needs help your Father, Jorya. I have some skill in the healing arts of the Force and will contribute what I can to assist the GraySingers.” She was about to go again, when I stopped her.

“Mother, wait…please.” Now that I had her attention, I was suddenly afraid to go on, especially with her dark eyes staring through the back of my head. Swallowing hard, I made myself look straight at her. “Why don’t we just Delve Jennira? She’s been in a coma for days now. And she’s even restrained.” I was hopeful that if anyone would understand, it would be Mother.

But her voice was hard, harder than I’d ever heard it. “No. We don’t know if we could find anything remotely pertinent to our search of the Pontite. Furthermore, it could be dangerous. No.” Then, I heard her talk almost under her breath. “I will think of something else…” She stepped through the doors. I almost followed her…but I already knew that there was no reason to. She’d made up her mind. She soon reappeared in the wide window of the Singer’s Atrium. And there, lying on the bed, was Father.

After we’d made it out of the canyons, I noticed that Father kept falling back. Slowly at first, but then it became more and more noticeable. And he was hurting. Bad. By the time we got back to Fenris’ Dirge, his face was ashen and he kept bleeding. And by the time Mother had secured the witch in the brig, Father had fallen unconscious. That had been three days ago. Father’s condition had deteriorated. As I looked through the window, I saw his big, barrel chest rise and fall raggedly. By the Maker, he had A LOT of scars…

I felt tears in my eyes. And when I saw Mother’s face, I felt afraid. Very afraid. She…she had a look on her face that I’d never seen before. She looked vulnerable. I saw her hand reach out to touch Father’s big, calloused left hand. She closed her eyes and her lips began to move. I knew that she wasn’t a Singer but…well, sometimes I knew that when she was upset—or on the rare occasion, furious—she would revert back to speaking Hapan. Father would usually remind her and she would give him that look that made him both smile and…shrink. And when I read her lips, I knew that she was doing just that. Ma’a Shakal, pah’qua tomah v’vie. D’ues pah’qua ch’a el. “My Shakal, please fight, live. Maker, please save my husband.”

I started crying and turned before Mother saw me. I wasn’t ashamed; I didn’t want for her to worry about me as well. She had enough on her mind. She didn’t need any mo—

My eyes opened wide. Of course… And I knew—knew—what to do. Mother would never allow me to and Father… Well, Father wasn’t in a position to scold, much less stop me. And…if I was right, and if it worked, I could hopefully save them both.

I ran. But not towards the Archive of Balance; I ran to the Penitentiary Sickbay. I passed several koawans on the way along with a few teidowans. But I was the only Gray Knight to enter. Technically, I was allowed without a chaperone; after all, I’d passed my Gray Trials. But…well, it was like Father had told me before: “Take what you want and pay for it. It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission sometimes.” I smiled wistfully remembering Father’s advice. But…he was right.

I squared my shoulders since I wanted to look as if I belo…no, I did belong. And I would not be dissuaded.

I walked confidently into the room that held Jennira. There she was, strapped to a bed, her mouth also gagged in case she regained consciousness. That way she couldn’t use her Singing against any Gray Jedi. Several monitors lined the wall above her bed, the sterile white walls doing little to alleviate the fact that this…witch had a black soul. But…she had answers, answers that we desperately needed.

Suddenly, I was afraid. Not for myself—well, not necessarily—but because of what I intended to do…and what would happen if I failed. NO! I will NOT fail! For Mother AND Father! What is it that Father had told me? Find an anchor, the strongest part of my life, and hold on tight. I felt the fear go…but not leave entirely. But more importantly, I felt my conviction grow solid. I KNOW what I need to do.

Stepping up to Jennira, I raised my hands to her head. I know that Mother and Father had told me to “never telegraph my intent” but the tactile contact helped. Especially since…I’d never really done this in particular. OK, I never had done this, period. But…well, for Mother and Father, I would.

My fingers gently touched the Night Sister’s white skin. I felt uncomfortable just doing that, like spiders were crawling on the back of my neck. No turning back now... I closed my eyes, and I opened myself to the Force. Even now as a Gray Knight, the feeling was wonderful, euphoric. Still: I had a job to do. Focusing, I Delved into Jennira’s mind.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Immediately, I felt as if I’d fallen off an old sea boat that had capsized, seawater threatening to pull me under. Focus! I scolded myself. Find center like Father taught you! And your anchor! Suddenly, I felt as if I were floating amidst a field of clouds, dark, ominous, and chaotic. I knew that I was going the right direction but this was not what I needed.

Need. That was key. Focus…what was it that Jennira was doing with the Pontite? Fixing the idea in my head, I concentrated on it. Need. The clouds…moved. Dark purple shapes thundered in the clouds while a…shadow of light took form. A…person? A figure…a woman shorter than me, taller than Mother… But…what?

Suddenly, a dark form took shape and loomed over the woman. Breathing, mechanical breathing came from the darkness, and an oran…or was it red(?)…lightsaber ignited to life. The shape became larger, more physically intimidating. By the Maker…! A hand clad in black leather reached over and around the woman, not protectively but possessively.

Darth Vader?!

But the clouds—no, the memory, I reminded myself—seemed to become less substantial. But the danger remained. And so did the woman. Focus! Need. A…name? Chelli? No…no, not just. Chelli. Lona. Aphra.

You have betrayed me, doctor. Vader’s voice boomed from the darkness. A…room coalesced. No, not a room. An airlock. Behind the transparisteel window, the woman—Aphra(?)—looked at me in terror. No…not me. Darth Vader. Her frightened eyes turned behind her. And slowly, the outer doors began to open. Air rushed out into the vacuum of space. And suddenly, the woman—yes, Aphra, Chelli Aphra—was sucked out.

No, Jorya, Father’s voice in my head tells me, not “sucked out.” Blown out. Of course, the vacuum. Focus! Need. But the woman—Doctor Chelli Aphra—didn’t die. She was prepared.

But the scene…changes on me. No! No!! Need! And I know that something is wrong. Instead of floating, I’m rushing headlong…and instead of “clouds” the memories are a…tempest. Visions appear, each faster than the one before:

A man…no a god…is...fighting. His enemies are…legion. Red (Red?!) lightening erupts from his fingers, immolating his opponents. Behind him…a…woman…no, a…goddess…

I try to focus; I try to find center but the visions assault my senses…

A pale woman…similar, no different…from Jennira is shouting. No, Singing. A chorus of notes merge, funneled through a…crystal. And on the other side…a power is awakening. And a…Singer…Master Karmack?!...is drown out by the Song. No, he is strengthened by the Song. No, he IS the Singer! The notes change! What was black are light, no…golden! No…a…color that is…too bright to describe! And in the center…Master Karmack is…yelling? Laughing? Crying? Raging?

I press my hands to my montrails…but I have no body here…where? Where am I?

It’s cold, freezing cold. Bone-chilling cold. I can see my breath form in clouds of blue. No, the blue is in the walls. No, not walls…rock. And ice. But not just ice. Glaciers. And between the two, a light blue crystal…kyber. But not. It isn’t Pontite. It’s Permafrost says a supple voice, beautiful to hear. I turn my head quickly but no one is there in the cave… But it is no longer a cave, but a planet. And a name, shrouded in forgetfulness and mystery, slowly percolates from the aether…Vyth(?). And then, pure darkness. But I know there is something there. A…stone. No, not stone. A…crystal? I try to shine a light onto it but nothing is reflected… the light is…absorbed. Like…blood, blood seeping into the ground, a black knife close by, which…sucks in the light… And then: nothing. Except the light blue crystals. Permafrost.

I scream, a shout without sound, for here I have no mouth. I cry, weeping without tears, for here I have no eyes. I try to breath…but when I inhale, there is no oxygen, for here I have no lungs.

But you can and do feel pain! A woman’s voice, beautiful and terrible whispers to me. And fear. Terror! HORROR!!

And I know. Jennira has found me. Suddenly, I’m back in the canyon, surrounded by Sith-Shadows. And the witch. Her Song attacks me and I feel it: pain. Agony. Torturous suffering. And fear; fear just like when I felt Jennira focus her Song on me. I felt—I feel—weak, afraid. But Father!...isn’t here…alone…no…NO! I turn my head to look for Father, him who always protects me, him who has…DID save me. Father!? DAD!?

But…he isn’t here. Only the witch. And her Song… And my terror… And I’m back, back in that interrogation room, surrounded by Inquisitors…being hurt by them. Tortured by them. Killed by them. Even now, I make no noise…there…there is no one to hear me anyway… Alone. No one coming. Not even…Father?

NO! Do NOT let her in! Do NOT lose center! Anchor. A small voice reminds me. Yes; anchor. And then: I see her.

Jennira. Jennira Hri. The Night Sister. Dark Singer. You.

You. The woman…the witch…that hurt my Father. That hurts my Mother. That…can…NOT…hurt me. Anchor. Mother. Father. They…need me. I look at Jennira, my tears a thing of the past but memory remains. And I know. KNOW.

I. Must. Succeed.

The fear—the dread—isn’t gone. It’s stronger than ever. But I MUST prevail! Mother and Father NEED me to! True, Jennira had found me. But I have also found her. And focus. NEED!

The woman—Doctor Chelli Lona Aphra—is walking alone…no, just by herself amongst…people. The fear begins to worm its way into my skin. In a square…no, not a square. A…quad of some kind. The horror is sinking into my bones. The kind that belong in…a school. No, not a school. A university. The terror is in the pit of my stomach. But…WHERE?!

Jennira’s Song—a shadow etude of fear—writhes through and around me. I must be quick! I am FRIGHTENED! ANCHOR! MOTHER! FATHER! The clouds—the memories—part way…a planet, temperate with blue skies…and buildings…schools. A university. And a name. DREAD!

Bar’leth.

Thinking of my anchor and of NEED, I run. I run as fast as I can retreat from the FEAR. I run away thinking…believing…KNOWING…that if Jennira catches me here…all of the DREAD will become my REALITY.

Run! Escape!! FLEE!!!

            <<<<< >>>>>

I open my eyes and breath deeply. My heart hammers away in my chest and my skin has broken out in sweat. That…vile…churning…FEAR in the pit of my stomach is there. Real. Horrible. I continue to gulp in great breaths of air. Like a cornered gundark, my eyes dart to the Night Sister, afraid to see what’s happened.

She lies there restrained on her med-table. Unmoving. Unresponsive. Comatose.

And I run. Out of the room, out of the wing, out of the building. I run, faster than I did than when Father had called me for my pre-Dragon Trial test. I run with purpose.

And, with fear.

But, I have answers. By the Maker, I have answers!

Before I know it, I see the Singer’s Atrium in front of me. And I stop. No one is in the room. …No… I…am I…too late? Is…is Father…did he…? And fear, no less than but different from before, hits me and hits me hard. Tears roll down my cheeks as I feel the tendrils of fear take hold, my resolve such a small…a pitiful thing compared to…

“Jorya! What’s wrong? Where have you been?!” Mother’s voice is angry, angry but full of concern. “Are you unwell?” And then…I do the only thing that I can think of.

I run to Mother, hugging her hard. And cry. Even though she’s smaller than me…she seems so tall in stature. A regal presence that helps to banish the worst of the fear. Most of it.

“M…Mother” I begin. “I…I…have something to…tell you.” Tears coarse down my face. I am not sure if I feel more sadness and loss or fear and loneliness. But…with Mother’s arms around me…it begins to…lessen.

And I tell her. Everything.

She’s angry. And she should be. But she is also…something else.

“Jorya. You should never—NEVER—have done that. ESPECIALLY without someone to guide you, someone to HELP you! Your Father and I have TOLD you…” She stops, her face suddenly calm. “It is a thing that you will never do by yourself again. Now I know where you were these last 17 hours.”

Seventeen hours?! Surely not…I tell myself. I even say as much to Mother.

And she looks at me, with her dark eyes, like how she looks sometimes at Father. And I understand. Why my Father will listen to her. And why my Mother is so…scary.

“Please Mother…I…I am sorry. So sorry. But I had to, don’t you see? I HAD TO. You…you were…so SAD. So…vulnerable. And I…I KNEW that I had to help. I COULD help!” I started crying anew. “And Father…we…we could lose Father. And I CAN’T lose you, not both, not ONE of you!”

Suddenly, Mother’s small hands stroked my montrails. And then, I hear it. I mean, REALLY hear it.

Mother is singing. Not Singing, like Master Karmack and Lady Arnor do. She is singing a Hapan lullaby. Like when she used to when I was first apprenticed to Father, back when I first came to live with them. Before they’d formally adopted me. Holding her tight, I hug her as hard as I can. And I begin to relax.

But then, I remember Father.

“Mother! Is…is Father…is he OK?!” Panic threatens to overwhelm me. And, remembering what Father taught me, I force myself to relax. Breathe. Balance.

And when I look into Mother’s dark eyes, she tells me: “Dear One. Your Father is resting. As comfortably as he is able to. The Singers…they, they were successful. Your Father is recovering as we speak. But he will require…time, time before he is fully mended.” She started to say something else, but my full hug crushed the air out of her. And just as suddenly, we’re laughing. Laughing and crying.

            <<<<< >>>>>

“…and I ran here to Mother.” I’d been explaining to Father what had happened. He stared at me, his odd hazel eyes so focused…direct…penetrating. “I have a name, Father. And a planet. Doctor Chelli Lona Aphra and Bar’leth.” No sooner was the last word out of my mouth then Father’s entire demeanor changes. His eyes lost focus and he stared off into space.

“Ah. Bar’leth. This Doctor…Aphra (?)…must work there. Good.” And when he looked back at me, I could tell that he had made up his mind. “I need to head to Bar’leth to…figure out some things.” And as Father said that, he began to slowly rise, his white hospital robe falling off his right shoulder, exposing his cybernetic arm. But before he has even stood, Mother pushes him back down. And while I know that Mother is strong…she easily succeeds in getting Father to lie back down.

“No, Shakal. You must needs rest.” Still, when she laid her hands upon Father’s chest, I see one of her rare smiles. One full of love, of happiness, and of relief. Her cheeks are wet and her dark eyes don’t leave Father’s face. And when I look back at him, I see the same look of love, happiness, and gratitude in Father’s eyes. And when they both look at me, I feel their love for me. I wrap my arms around them both but carefully around Father’s big shoulder.

For the first time since we left Kuat, I know that Father will be OK. And…we have some answers.

            <<<<< >>>>>

As the automatic lights adjust for the nighttime twilight, the Penitentiary Sickbay assumes a sepulchral quality along with the noiselessness disquiet of a tomb. And while a few Gray Jedi roam the halls, they do so virtually without sound.

Within one of the secure med stations, the Night Sister’s prone and inactive body seems nothing more than part of the instrumentation, for all of the movement it entails. Monitors lining the wall register life signs but only as a biological activity. One of the datanodes that records brain activity remains static and unchanging.

And with the suddenness of activity, they begin to show signs, signs of life as a cognitive function.

And Jennira’s eyes open.

Chapter 8: College-bound

[A thousand pardons, sare. Please to forgive this one.]

The Zygerrian told me in his own language as he brushed past me. The cramped quarters of the hyperloop made such encounters both expected and frequent. As did the pickpocket attempts.

Without calling attention to the fact, D’Aylanna stood in front of the Zygerrian, confronting him. “You will hand me my husband’s crypto-node.” Her dark eyes stared up into feline irises, unblinking.

[This one will hand you the sare’s crypto-node.]

“You will go away and never molest him, myself, or our daughter again.” My wife’s small frame seemingly loomed over the larger alien.

[This one will go away and never molest the sare, the sara, or the sira.]

“You will inform anyone associated with you and your…profession…that we are to be avoided at all costs.” The dangerous gleam in D’Aylanna’s eyes were incongruous with her calm, almost genial tone.

[This one will inform his clowder that the sare, the sara, and the sira are to be avoided, always.]

“And you will pay for our railfare.” She said, almost as an afterthought, the ghost of a smile upon her lips. “Begone.”

[This one will pay for sares’ railfare. This one will go.] Bowing his head, the Zygerrian withdrew, a befuddled look on his face.

Handing me my crypto-node, D’Aylanna grinned up at me. “Here, Shakal. Next time, please be more careful. I have heard that there is a criminal element on Bar’leth.”

I quietly laughed and, absentmindedly, I almost tucked the wallet back in a deep pocket of my robes. Checking myself, I instead put it under my obi, beneath my belt in a hidden pocket. Shaking my head at my own carelessness, I was briefly hit by a wave of vertigo. Swaying slightly, I felt two pairs of hands on me, steadying me.

“Dad? Are you OK?” Jorya’s voice was full of concern, her hands rubbing my back while I felt the healing flows from the Force as she concentrated on me.

“Shakal, you must be more mindful of your actions. The Singers said that you required time. And rest.” While her tone sounded severe, D’Aylanna’s eyes were watery and apprehensive. Like Jorya, my wife had opened herself to the Force, attempting to speed my recovery. By the Maker, I loved them both.

“Thank you, Ereneda, Dear One. I’m better now. Really.” That last was directed at D’Aylanna, a skeptical look upon her face. “And see? I am resting; that’s one of the main reasons that we’re going to the university.” This time, they both adopted incredulous looks. Incredible how women could do that. “I’ve heard that the university’s Zoological Meditation Garden is among the best in the galaxy.” Neither woman so much as blinked.

“Shakal, you must needs recuperate. I will not have you exacerbating your already tenuous health by attempting to deceive me, our daughter, and especially yourself.” D’Aylanna’s posture spoke volumes.

And, right on top of her mother, Jorya’s voice reminded me, “Father, you just can’t make yourself better. You must rest!” Looking from one and to the other—short, dark Hapan and tall, orange Togruta—I knew that I had a better chance of beating a gorog than changing either woman’s judgment. And, I hated to admit it, they were both right. Jennira had damn near killed me. Wistfully, I thought of the witch…

“…with the Night Sister conscious, we can no longer Delve her.” I explained to the Kage. “D’Aylanna even had her placed into a medically induced coma without success. Jennira’s defenses are up. And the only lead we have is what Jorya was able to garner from her Delve.” Before Oyuna could say anything, I held up my hands as if to ward off any castigation; D’Aylanna and I had already thoroughly admonished Jorya. Thoroughly. “Yes, it wasn’t the best of circumstances but, Kage, we simply have nothing else to go on.”

Kage Oyuna’s orange eyes stared at Jorya, the Togruta’s eyes downcast. She knew. And yet…I was still proud of her. “Take what you want and pay for it.” I’d told her on more than one occasion. I only wish that I could have protected her from everything…but such was life.

“Knight Fah.” The Kage’s voice belonged to an executioner. “You evidently have not learned the lesson that such actions are dangerous. I know that this is not a failing of your parents; you alone bear the responsibility of your decisions. You are to be censured.”

Jorya’s chin sank to her chest. “Yes Kage. I understand.”

“Do you?” The Ferroan’s eyebrow arched in question. “No, I don’t believe that you do. You are hereby released to the custodianship of your master, Maenowan Zearic…on his honor. I, Kage Oyuna Chan’dn, decree.” As the Kage left, Jorya approached me, eyes wide in apology.

“Mast…Father…why, why would she…punish you for my actions?!” The strong woman that I knew was visibly shaken. “On his honor” the Kage had pronounced. It meant: that should Jorya make another capital error, I would be the one considered responsible.

“Jorya…I am not being punished. You are. What you did was…brash, brazen, dangerous.” My voice was hard, of necessity. “You don’t know the full consequences of your choice… However, I also know what motivated you. And…I would have done the same myself.” My daughter’s face looked at me, amazed. “I said as much to the Kage and personally vouched for you.”

Jorya’s swift hug caught me unexpectedly. But even as quick as she was, her touch was gentle and tentative; she knew that I was still healing. “Dad…I am…I just…thank you!”

Sternly, I grabbed her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “Do not think that you are off the hook. You have been censured. Which means: you will remain on-planet unless your Mother or I accompany you. This rule is inviolate and I will broach no argument. Now…do you understand, Knight Fah?”

Her face sobering up, Jorya nodded, a firm set to her red lips. “Yes, Master. I will submit.”

Holding her gaze in an unblinking stare, I said nothing for a moment. Then, relaxing perceptibly, I allowed a small, private grin. “…And as it so happens, your Mother and I have a planned trip off-planet. We thought we would head to Bar’leth, check out the university.” Jorya’s own grin was slowly reflected in her eyes. “And, as I said, I have some things I need to check out…”

I felt the velocity of the hyperloop begin to decrease. Good; we were approaching the university exit. Looking around the car, I made certain that D’Aylanna, Jorya, and I were a secure island amidst the crush of people in our general vicinity. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to contribute to the healing flows that both my daughter and wife were directing to me. By the Maker I’m thankful for the Mak’Tor Singers. The slow but steady deceleration of the hyperloop helped to lull me into remembrance again…

“…As I said, Maenowan, you must rest. Your body was ravaged by the Night Sister’s Song. Frankly, I am amazed that you are still alive.” The Singer’s voice was equal parts admonishment and amazement. And then, under her breath, “To say nothing of you standing, here and now.”

Looking into her brown eyes, I told her, “Thank you, Singer. And you should know that the men of the Vhal’Dan Order aren’t amazing, just obstinate.” She smiled at my self-deprecating humor.

“To that I can heartily attest.” D’Aylanna’s voice said behind me. I could hear the laughter in her tone.

As I turned to leave, I was intercepted by a small delegation led by Kage Oyuna. There were four of them, two had the robes of the Vhal’Dan and two had markings identifying them from Mak’Tor Intelligence. The Kage spoke first.

“Master Gray D’Aylanna, Maenowan Zearic, please welcome our guests Koawan Parek Darmel, Silver Knight and Knight Gray Arilia Garamin. I believe you already know Koawan Maison Cecete and Teidowan Viri Basai, of Vhal’Dan Tactical Ops.” Kage Oyuna’s pleasantries prefaced a far more crucial issue: Jennira Hri.

“We know that Sekot simply does not possess the facilities nor the personnel to adequately confine the Dark Singer. I contacted Koawan Telow’na and we agreed that M’Tzingon provided the solution to hold and interrogate the Night Sister.” Kage Oyuna gestured to the Mak’Tor Jedi. “As luck would have it, Koawan Parek and Knight Gray Arilia were in the sector and available to extradite the witch back there. As this is a joint operation, I have asked Koawan Maison and Teidowan Viri to accompany them. The only people who know about this are in attendance. We should be secure.” The Kage’s attention focused on the two Mak’Tor Jedi. “Master Jedi?”

Stepping forward, the short, slender koawan nodded. “Thank you, Kage Chan’dn. Lady D’Aylanna, Maenowan Zearic, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My partner, Knight Arilia and I have been brought up to speed on our side, courtesy of Koawan Telow’na. We understand the risk.” By the look on his hard face, I had no reason to doubt him. He continued, “Accordingly, we have some…special equipment suitable for the transport of Dark Singers. Furthermore, the Night Sister’s prison and bonds are keyed to open with only Knight Arilia’s or my genetic code. No other person may touch them, otherwise a lockdown is initiated instantly.” He then looked to the woman beside him. “Arilia?”

She was a tall woman, taller than me by a few centimeters, her blond hair shorn incredibly short. She looked as if she knew how to handle the three lightsabers about her person. When she spoke, she had a husky voice. “Thank you, Parek. My lady, maenowan.” She nodded to D’Aylanna and I in turn. “Congratulations are in order to you both. I’ve read your After Action Report and I’m amazed with your success.”

Both D’Aylanna and I shared a private smile. “Not ‘amazing’ just obstinate.” My wife’s jest was spoken lightly, a grin on her lips as she looked into my eyes. Despite her humor, I could tell that she was still worried for me. She turned her gaze back to Arilia. “Apologies. Pray, do continue.”

The tall woman seemed to sense the undertone. She adopted a lopsided grin. “Not at all, my Lady. Indeed, I was hoping to pick your brain concerning the witch’s Song. Parek and I would like to hear what didn’t go into the AAR.” Arilia’s straightforward and blunt exterior was belied by her genial personality, in stark contrast to Parek’s stoicism.

“Parek, Arilia. May I suggest we continue this in D’Aylanna’s and my quarters? Maison, Viri, if you’d please be as so kind to join us…”

The car came to a clean stop, the doors opening to divest the hyperloop of its passengers. Gathering D’Aylanna and Jorya, we stepped off and onto the university campus. Slowly walking through the elaborately and well-maintained grounds, I softly spoke to both women.

“We need to find this Doctor Aphra. I suggest we try asking about the faculty staff.” Looking at D’Aylanna, I kept a smile off of my face. “Ereneda, I can think of no one better than to do that then you, Love.” My wife’s blue lips twisted in a smirk, humor in her dark eyes. “Jorya, I want for you to check out ExtraCurriculars and see if she isn’t an adjunct professor, just in case.” I turned to leave the two women to their respective tasks.

“But Father,” Jorya’s voice was curious, “Where are you going?”

Turning, I smiled a full grin. “To rest. After all, I’m only doing what you both told me to do.” Both my daughter and wife laughed. But I also had an ulterior motive.

Instead of heading to the Gardens, I proceeded to the University Archives. Reaching into my robe’s pockets, my hand touched the black, stone war dagger I’d taken from the Night Sister’s artifacts. As I said: a mystery worth solving.

Resolute, I hastened my walking towards the Archives.

Before we begin, I feel that I have to give LSG some credit for this chapter as well. He sent me some incredible snippets pertaining to the easter eggs and I KNEW that I HAD to included them. SO: Chapter 9 is dedicated to LSG :)

*****************************************************************************************************************

Chapter 9: Frustrations

SEARCH PARAMETERS NOT FOUND. INQUIRY?

For what seemed like the hundredth time, my enquiries had come up with nothing. Frustrated, I ran my left hand through my short hair. Dammit. This was getting me nowhere fast. Closing my eyes, I rubbed my temples as I considered my next step. And promptly came up with nothing.

Shakal, sometimes you need to step away from a problem to gain perspective. I heard D’Aylanna’s voice in my head. And she was right. I’d been trying to force intuition. Well…I did tell the women that I’d check out the Gardens.

Rising slowly from the terminal, I made myself relax while I closed my eyes and, going through a mental Force technique, I felt the tightness in my head begin to dissipate. Breathe. Balance.

I opened my eyes again and, in no hurry, began strolling through the Archives and entered the adjoining Hall of Annuls. Clearly the University of Bar’leth had gone through great trouble (and no small amount of funds) to acquire some truly spectacular exhibits. The disparate exhibitions were often displayed in enormous menageries, often drawing large crowds consisting of tourists, students, and hobbyists.

Soon, I began to not only feel better but to truly enjoy myself. I came across a geology presentation where I engaged the professors in a full-blown discussion about rock mass plasticity. Smiling, I could almost hear the collective groans of the students in the small crowd but…I had the proverbial rancor by the bit. Before I knew it, I’d begun typing some constitutive equations and relationships with the instructors. And while they would sometimes correct a mistake that I’d made, I was able to hold my own considering.

After some time had passed, I shook hands with the Fellow’s Panel and made my farewells. Distractedly walking away, I smiled at the time I’d spent with the geotechnical engineers, thinking of how my life could have been drastically different if I had chosen an…easier path in life. Would I trade what I had now? Not for a Hutt’s weight in credits. But…it was amusing to reminisce.

Suddenly, I was rudely interrupted out of my contemplations by a grandstanding Toydarian docent.

“And now, for the first time in this sector, the University of Bar’leth is proud to present…the Wilhuff Tarkin Collection! This incredible assortment of verified personal affects from the infamous Grand Moff is as macabre as it is extraordinary!”

Looking past the oily Toydarian as he hovered, I saw a hermetically sealed transparisteel case surrounding various items. Admittedly, they all looked rather mundane: a uniform with the rank placard “belonging” to Tarkin, an “official” registry of Tarkin’s appointment (“By the Emperor himself!”) to the Imperial Special Weapons Group, a large doonium consignment to Project Stardust that Tarkin had confirmed via his thumbprint-ident, a sheaf of papers fanned out on table…

I abruptly stopped, turning the volume down on the Toydarian’s assertions. Paper itself was anachronistic and almost gauche in its use, given the virtually unlimited storage capacities of datanodes. What was any of it doing here in such a display? I bent my head closer to get a better look, using my cybernetic eye to discern the fine details.

Amazed, I saw that these papers had the Authentication Ident-Scans of the Imperial Grand Admiralty. And printed below the various names of military functionaries (Tarkin’s was the first) was a simple communiqué concerning the Death Star:

“THE FOLLOWING PLANETS HAVE BEEN DETERMINED AS DEMONSTRATING CONCLUSIVE ANTIPATHY AGAINST THE EMPIRE. LIQUIDATION WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE IS AUTHORIZED VIA DS-1, ORBITAL BATTLE STATION. LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR.”    BOTHAWUI PRIME (GOLM)    CHANDRILA    CORELLIA    KASHYYYK    MON CALAMARI    RYLOTH

Bile in the back of my throat began to rise. I was disgusted: such a strange thing to see the death of worlds listed so…bureaucratically. Such banality…like a checklist…

Something caught my eye. I noticed a detail that I’d missed before: handwritten below the list of printed planets in neat, flowing Nabooian script—Nabooian script…Palpatine—was a single word.

Aethas.

Aethas. I’d heard that before…but…where? Opening myself to the Force, I went through a mental recall technique…

The Night Sister’s face looked amused. “What could that be? Some myth come true? That the Jacipri Creation story is factual? Perhaps Uhanayih really is the Yinchorri ‘Within World’ that their religion tells them? Or how about that the Aethans were real and are coming back to life to immolate all of the ‘imperfect Jedi?’”

My stomach suddenly sank… Two references to the same obscure myth?! And in such a short time… Whatever it portended, I knew that it couldn’t be good… But, it got me thinking. Perhaps…

Hurriedly, I returned to the Archives and, sitting at a terminal, typed in the enquiry field:

SEARCH: “AETHAS BLACK STONE”

Within a split-second, the monitor greeted me with this:

FOUND: 17 FICTION ENTRIES. INQUIRY?

“Dammit!” Embarrassedly, I apologized to the three other patrons around me that heard my expletive. One and all, they gave me pointed looks.

SEARCH: “NON-FICTION{TANGENTIAL/AETHAS BLACK STONE}”

This time the results were more in line with what I’d expected: a…rumor, of sorts. Within the database, the last known reference of the black stone was from over 500 years ago. As I read, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Sporadic and convoluted information—and, often times, unreliable and contradictory—but what I gleaned from the database consisted of an Old Republic expedition. There were no particulars listed but the entire project had been abandoned, all media surrounding the event redacted if not outright destroyed. There were only two excerpts that agreed on one thing: in the wake of the debacle, the various miners associated with the precursors “…exhibited unusual behaviors upon their return…” that was attributed to “…some kind of space sickness caused by ‘extreme gravitational effects.’”

I sat back in my chair. A mystery to be solved? More like “more questions raised.” Inadvertently, I sighed and mentally shrugged. I just hoped that either D’Aylanna or Jorya were having better luck than I was.

            <<<<< >>>>>

“Save the Cartusion whales! After the Clone Wars, they were hunted mercilessly for their bones so the evil jedi could inlay them in their lightsabers! Save the Cartusion whales…!”

The skinny Lorrdian kept repeating the same thing, over and over. Try as I might, I was beginning to get annoyed… I’d struck out at ExtraCurriculars; they told me there was no “Doctor Aphra” on the staff roster but “suggested I check out ‘Adjunct Studies.’” But, as far as the Lorrdian, Father had told me to ignore people who had a “tenuous relationship with the truth.” Even as I went to go around him, he stepped in front of me deliberately.

“Save the Cartusion whales! Aren’t you against the genocide of these gentle creatures? Can’t you give of yourself something just so that an innocent can live?” I was trying to be patient, and told him politely but resolutely “No, thank you” but he just wouldn’t relent. Then, he made a mistake. Grabbing my upper arm as I went past him, he attempted to pull me back.

Like Mother had trained me to do, I grabbed his wrist at the pressure point. Pivoting slightly, I kept an iron grip while forcing his hand in a position that…it should not have gone. Suddenly, his voice was higher than mine.

“No. Thank. You.” I smiled while looking directly in his eyes and twisted his wrist a bit more. “My Father doesn’t like for me to join strange organizations that have no Imperial approval. I’m sure he’d like to meet you. He arm-wrestles wookies for fun.” He went on his tip-toes as I turned his wrist a bit more. “And he taught me all that he knows.” His forehead was sweating profusely while I used my sweetest voice. “May the Maker look upon you favorably.”

As soon as I released him, he smiled sickly and ran away. I couldn’t help but grin as I continued along the quad to Adjunct Studies. I went into the main building, looking for one of the “friendly” staff to help me out. As it turned out, the “staff” was a Civils/faculty droid.

“Hello student! How may I be of service?” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought that, if our roles were reversed, Mother would have probably used her lightsaber as an answer by now.

Coughing quietly, I asked, “Yes, please. Can you direct me to Doctor Aphra’s office?”

The droid made an odd noise. “There is no ‘Doctor Aphra’ employed here.”

I was stunned. But…how…the Night Sister… I tried again. “Well…was there ever a Doctor Aphra that worked here?” I was hopeful.

But again, the droid made the same noise. “There was no ‘Doctor Aphra’ employed here. Ever.” The finality of the droid’s speech was anything but subtle. Was it all for nothing?! My censure…Mother and Father’s anger…

“You know…I hate to see a pretty lady frown.” A voice came from behind me. Turning, I saw that it belonged to a tall, lean lavender skinned Sephi. He had deep black eyes almost like Mother’s…and he was gorgeous. “Maybe…I can help?”

Still, I had a job to do. “OK. Yes, you can tell me if there was ever a Doctor Aphra that worked here.” His blond hair looked as fine as silk.

“Sorry, pretty lady. Like ‘bucket-head’ said: no Doc Aphra ever worked here.”

I felt poleaxed. But…by the Maker he looked beautiful. Focus! “Oh. Well…thanks anyw—”

“Oh no, pretty lady,” he interrupted, “you don’t get it. Doc Aphra didn’t work here. But I know of Doctor Chelli Aphra—”

My astonishment must have shown on my face. The Sephi’s smile deepened and, when next he talked, his eyes went to the floor. “—but you’ve got to pay for it.” He looked right into my eyes, no longer coy.

Now I was—slightly—annoyed. By the Maker…now what?! Exasperated, I said, “And what’s your price?”

“Simple, pretty lady. I have to have your name.” His smile was playful; he was good looking and he knew it. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing…

My face showed none of that though. “My name? That’s it?” My incredulous tone was unmistakable. He’s still beautiful…

“That’s it pretty lady.” He gave a creative flourish. “…Well, and the pleasure of your company for dinner. Your choice where we eat.” His smile displayed his perfect lips.

I was thankful to both Mother and Father. My education had been more than just saber combat, polymathy, and the Force. Mother in particular had schooled me. Very, very well.

Still…he was beautiful.

“OK.” I heard myself agree. “My name. And dinner.” Elegantly, he nodded and smiled. OK then. “Jorya.” But where…? “And…I have to admit, I don’t know of any good restaurants around here.”

“Jorya.” He said my name as delicately as if he were holding a Hapan crystal goblet. “Well, I happen to know of several good bistros. But first: you’ve held up your end; it’s only gentlemanly of me to do likewise. Doctor Chelli Aphra didn’t work here; she got her doctorate here from Bar’ ‘U.’”

I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I went to leave, speaking tersely, “OK. Well thank you…” And then I realized that I didn’t even know his name.

“Strileth Jantsk, pretty lady Jorya.” He put his hand up, carefully…as if he were afraid that he’d scare me. I almost laughed at that. “Please, don’t go. I have an ulterior motive for asking you to dinner: so that I could give you more information on Doc Aphra…in the hopes that it would ensure me a second date.” His smile was open, forthcoming.

And, admittedly, I probed him with the Force. Incredibly…he was being truthful.

I must have been quiet awhile because he hastily added, “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be presumptuous…” I started laughing. The look on his face was priceless.

“I’m sorry Strileth; I…I’m not laughing at you. You’re just so…honest.” I hadn’t smiled like this in a long time.

“Um…thanks?” His small grin began to grow bigger. “…Does that mean ‘yes?’”

I couldn’t help myself. “Yes. For the first dinner…for the second? Well…that just depends on what you can tell me about Doctor Aphra. Let me have your comm-number; I’ll ping you in a little bit.” Such a handsome smile…

“And Jorya,” the Sephi’s voice sounded amused, “Please call me, ‘Stril.’ Only my parents call me ‘Strileth.’” His dark eyes reflected his easy smile.

“OK. Stril.” And as I walked away, I looked back over my shoulder. He was still watching me. So beautiful… Shaking my head, I headed to the Gardens to meet Mother and Father.

            <<<<< >>>>>

D’Aylanna and I were waiting for Jorya in the Gardens when she found us. In a flurry of explanation, she told us of her encounter—and her luck—concerning Doctor Aphra. I had to admit that I was less than enthused regarding the particulars. Still…it warmed my heart to see Jorya in such spirits.

“…So can I, Mom? Dad?” Jorya reminded me that she was still a young woman, regardless of recent events and responsibilities. Or, perhaps because of them. Looking at D’Aylanna, I saw that she agreed with our unspoken consent.

“Yes, Jorya. You may.” I trusted her and knew that she had a level head on her shoulders. Well…most times.

“Thanks Mom! Dad!” She emphasized each with a kiss to our cheeks and ran off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw D’Aylanna shake her head, an amused set to her lips.

“Were we ever that young?” Her rhetorical question caught me as I was also waxing nostalgic. She looked up into my eyes, fondly remembering. “Seems so long ago…”

“Perhaps…but you still look as young as the day I met you, Ereneda.” My wife smiled one of her rare smiles, saying nothing. Tenderly, D’Aylanna took my arm and we began to amble through the Gardens, her head leaning upon my upper arm. And, for a time, I was able to think of other things. But it was all too brief.

“Ereneda, I need to talk to you about something: the dagger that I found in the Canticum Lowlands among the witch’s paraphenelia. But not here and not without Jorya. Let’s head inside…”

            <<<<< >>>>>

We were halfway down the long, wide oval cargo corridor, naked industrial steel rusted and greasy with age. I stopped dead, my hand moving swiftly to block Jorya from going any further…

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

At the other end of the corridor the cargo lift was approaching…an untameable tide of primal power rising with it.

I stared wide-eyed at what I felt, a glance at D’Aylanna revealed a frantic expression. I turned to Jorya. “Run Dear One, run and do not stop.”

Confusion and disappointment etched across her features as the tide rose higher. “Run, what…from what?”

“She’s too inexperienced; she can’t even sense it! RUN JORYA!” D’Aylanna screamed igniting her sabre.

Jorya searched our faces for some hint but saw only the naked fear, realizing this was no time to argue. She turned and ran back the way we had come.

The tide was nearly upon us, the early breaks flicked sprays of raw power even at this distance.

The lift doors started to open.

“It can’t be…” D’Aylanna whispered.

I ignited both my sabres and strengthened my stance to hold back the ocean.

“Shakal…” D’Aylanna said quietly as the figure appeared between the parting doors, a human figure clad in light-eating midnight armour…a sword black as death in one hand, a rifle accented with thin lines of blood red metal in the other.

He moved with speed that was not possible for a Jedi or machine. And from that point onward I knew my life would be measured in seconds…

            <<<<< >>>>>

I woke drenched in sweat breathing heavily…it had been too real… I called upon the Force to calm myself, collect myself. It took me a moment but slowly realization began to take hold. Reaching out with my right hand, I felt D’Aylanna’s sleeping body beside me. Jorya was also a comforting presence in the Force, asleep in her adjacent room. Settling down, I prepared to drift back into sleep when something amiss caught my eye.

Across the room lay the black knife…I was sure I had placed it in a sheath. Yet there it sat at the front of my gear…slowly leaching my dissipating fear…

Chapter 10: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

“Please, Father!” Jorya pleaded, her youthful exuberance shining through.

Sighing, I relented. “OK Dear One. I’ll meet this…‘Stril.’ But I still want to know why he knows so much about Doctor Aphra.”

Her eyes gleaming, Jorya’s face lightened the mood. “Oh Father, you’re so suspicious!” Suddenly her face turned bashful. “…Besides, I…kind of did a Force probe on him.”

Momentarily taken aback, I asked, “You. Did. What?” Inside, I almost…laughed. Good girl.

Her face became serious. “Father. I would not just go to dinner with someone I just met without some…assurances.”

“Yes, Shakal, how could you possibly think that our daughter could do something like that? So…impulsive?” Pointedly, D’Aylanna stared daggers straight at Jorya. Sensing her Mother’s meaning, Jorya promptly looked sheepish.

Covering my mouth with my cybernetic hand, I hid the smile that played upon my lips. Looking from D’Aylanna to Jorya and back again, I tried—unsuccessfully—to stop my laughter. As soon as I did, D’Aylanna joined me and Jorya soon followed suit.

Catching a breath, I sobered up. “Yes, Dear One. Bring…Stril along for an early dinner. I would like to…‘talk’ with him.”

“As would I.” D’Aylanna looked deadly serious. And I couldn’t help but laugh again.

            <<<<< >>>>>

When D’Aylanna took Jorya to go shopping for a new dress, I took the opportunity to study the black stone dagger, this time via the Force. Sitting on the couch of our rented quarters, I had the knife in the middle of the table in front of me. Even during the day, the black stone…seemed to suck in the light. To work…

As I began to delve the weapon, it seemed at first that nothing was happening. Sitting back, I discontinued my mental probe. Or rather, I thought that I had. Instead, the dagger kept…absorbing Force energies. Even seconds after, I could feel residual energy being drawn. Incredible.

When D’Aylanna and Jorya returned almost an hour later, I was still no closer to understanding the nature of the dagger’s composition. But the time had not been completely wasted. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both women enter the room. Even distracted, I noticed that Jorya had chosen a fitted sheath dress. And matching heels. With them, she was almost as tall as I was. Suppressing a smile, I complimented her on her choice of attire.

“Yes, Shakal. Our daughter clearly takes after me.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that D’Aylanna had also found several new outfits. I had to smile; D’Aylanna had once told me that a woman’s clothes were much like armor, depending on the situation. Well, who was I to argue?

Turning serious, I thought of the problem at hand, namely: the whereabouts of Doctor Aphra. According to Jorya, this “Stril” would be able to help us. Feeling D’Aylanna’s hand upon my shoulder, she nuzzled close to me, whispering, “Give them both a chance.”

Quietly I laughed. “How do you do that, Ereneda?” I enfolded her in my arms, her small frame virtually disappearing as I hugged her. Kissing her midnight-blue hair, I told her, “I promise to give ‘them’ a chance.” Jorya I trusted so at least that part of my promise I knew that I would keep…

            <<<<< >>>>>

“Mother, Father. May I present Stril Jantsk.” Jorya’s faced beamed. I could see why. The lavender-skinned Sephi who shook my hand was taller than me, slender, and handsome. Taking my right hand, he had a firm handshake. When he came to D’Aylanna, he kissed her extended hand.

“Mr. Vih’Torr, Mrs. Vih’Torr.” He had an easy smile. “I can see where Jorya gets her good looks from. It is customary that one invited to dinner bring something suitable to the hosts.” He handed D’Aylanna an oblong package, neatly wrapped with a bow. I had to admit that the attention to detail was astonishing. “Mrs. Vih’Torr, I sincerely hope that this is to your liking.”

A ghost of a wry smile upon her face, D’Aylanna opened the package. “Ah. Hapan Pogram-Blood wine. And a good year, too. Thank you, Stril.” Turning her head so that neither Jorya nor Stril could see, my wife looked into my eyes pointedly. “Shakal. A chance.” The last two were under her breath so that only I could hear. Sighing, I fixed a smile upon my face.

“Welcome, Stril. Jorya tells me that you’re attending the University of Bar’leth. What field?” I offered him a chair around the dining table.

“Thank you, sir. I am dual-majoring in archaeology and biogeochemistry, with a focus on geology…”

            <<<<< >>>>>

As the afternoon progressed, Stril continued to regale us with his past. He’d grown up on Thustra, the Sephi homeworld in a middle-class family of droid engineers. Showing incredible aptitude, he was able to secure a full scholarship to Bar’leth as part of the Archaeological Society, where he was now doing his post-graduate work. He was attentive to both Jorya and D’Aylanna, respectful to D’Aylanna and myself. Articulate and self-assured, he was both deferential and yet assertive.

I detested him immediately.

But, by the look that Jorya had on her face, I knew that I would have to put my distaste aside for my daughter’s sake. And—if D’Aylanna’s good mood was an indicator—for my wife’s as well. No Shakal, for your own sake, a voice in my head that sounded eerily like D’Aylanna’s corrected me. Grinning dryly, I was inclined to agree. Sighing, I continued throughout the evening without saying much.

But once Stril began talking about Doctor Aphra, I sat up straighter, my full attention on what the Sephi was saying.

“…and in my Archaeology classes, we learned about Doc—that is, Doctor Aphra. She had been appointed to Imperial Civilworks by Darth Vader himself, under direction of the Emperor.” He let that sink in, as if we should be impressed. I feigned fascination. “But she ended up on the wrong side of Vader’s graces and he ended up spacing her.” Now, this was something…different. The Sephi made a grand gesture. “However, Doc Aphra was saved by her partner, a wookie called Black Krrsantan. And together, they facilitated the Great Auction of the Rur crystal.” Now my mind was lazer-focused.

“Rur crystal? Was it…a type of kyber?” I asked, in a non-chalant voice.

“Sorry, Mr. Vih’Torr, but only Doc Aphra knew for sure.” Of course, you kriffing… “…But, she must have sold it for a good price. She retired at the Cosmatanic Steppes in the Outer Rim.” He smiled toothily.

“How very…industrious of you. Stril.” I stared straight at him, into the back of his skull. Not without some satisfaction, I saw him swallow, a drop of sweat slowly rolling down his forehead. “And why would you have this information?” His smile turned sickly.

“Well…that is, Mr. Vih’Torr, I…ah, wanted to get a second date from Jorya. That is, sir.” I didn’t blink, both my hazel eyes boring into his dark ones. To his credit, he didn’t look away. Even when I mentally “turned off” the social veneer of my cybernetic eye, exposing the biomechanics, he did not look elsewhere (but a couple more drops of sweat began to appear). Honest mistake.

I felt D’Aylanna’s hand squeeze mine in mild annoyance. Sighing, I broke eye contact. “Well, I have to congratulate you, young man. My daughter has a good head on her shoulders. And if she sees…something within you, then I trust her implicitly.” Mostly. “Stril. Why don’t you and I have a drink on the veranda.”

Before I could exit, Jorya appeared in front of me. “Fa…Dad.” Damn. “Please don’t…scare him. Please?” Looking up into my eyes, I saw the girl that I’d saved all those years ago. And relented; how could I say no?

As I turned, I saw D’Aylanna looking up at me, a look of pride on her face. “Shakal. You are a good man.” Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed me lingeringly with her blue lips. She then went to join Jorya in the atrium garden. Well…that’s one way to win an argument.

Walking out onto the balcony, I saw that Stril had his back to the door. Well, he’s no warrior… I wasn’t sure if that changed my opinion of him more or less. Still…I did owe it to Jorya. And D’Aylanna.

Walking forward, I assumed a pleasant look on my face before he turned to see the change…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Even as I entered the corridor, I could feel the inexorable tide threatening to inundate me. Pounding against my very being, the power of the primal force was almost a physical blow, a tripartite beat that reverberated through the ferrocrete walls, the transparisteel windows, and my exposed soul.

Turning behind in order to be heard over the roar, I saw both Jorya and D’Aylanna with almost mirror-like looks of terror upon their faces. They’d both ignited their sabers.

“Ereneda! Dear One! RUN!!” But even as the words left my lips, I knew that I was too late.

And I saw…it…reflected in the watery pools of both their eyes, their faces falling from a terror so intense that sanity no longer seemed possible.

I ignited both of my lightsabers, the snap-hiss drown out by the inhumane howl that was a gale-force hurricane upon my back. Jorya fell to her knees, both of her hands pressed against her mouth hard as she attempted—in vain—to stop her screams. D’Aylanna—miraculously—took a step forward to stand by me, her face turned to one side as if to stave off a blinding light or excessive heat and fighting the agony of doing so. She had tears streaming down her face but—unbelievably—she took another step, to stand right next to me.

And I. I finally turn knowing—knowing—that what remains of my rational mind will wither before the raging storm. That my life had been forfeit the very moment that the power had been delivered unto my presence.

And a scene wrenched from the bowels of the abyss assaulted my eyes, scorching my senses, flaying my soul. A figure clad in midnight black armour loomed menacing, the light dimming as if a star was eclipsed or a life was taken.

Screaming, defiant, terrified, reckless, I adopt an aggressive posture, knowing that there was no effective defense against that which was unstoppable. Beside me, my wife stood next to me, with me, screaming in solidarity, screaming in horror; both of us a shield in front of Jorya.

Drawing a sword the shade of the blackest night, the onrushing tempest intensified, the report of a sonic boom crashed into us, through us, and past. And before my eyes had even registered movement, I knew that the figure was in front of me, his sword stabbing into my chest, ripping my still-beating heart out through my spine…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Waking in panic, drenched in sweat, my lungs gulp in deep breaths of air, my heart hammering through my sternum. This time my eyes affix immediately onto the black dagger, naked and pulsing…if shadows could be said to do so. What little ambient light there is in the room is drawn and absorbed by the dagger…as is my waning fear. And I know—know—that it is the dagger that is leeching it from me.

Rising from the bed, the temperate air felt chill against my bare, hairy chest. And just before my hand touched the knife, I stopped mere centimeters from the smooth surface. This time, I was certain that I’d sheathed the weapon, placing it in my kit. Steeling my resolve, I picked up the dagger, anticipating…something.

Nothing. Even after a minute had passed and I’d expectantly waited for the ground below to open, rending and swallowing me…absolutely nothing happened.

Actually…that was not true. My fear was no more. Not gone; non-existant. Slowly turning the dagger in my hands, I wondered what that portended. And a thought skirted across my mind: if this could affect me…could it be…made to affect others? I introspectively gnawed on that question until Bar’leth’s sun banished the night, waking both of the women in the household, where they found me staring off the veranda, slowly twirling the knife in my hand.

            <<<<< >>>>>

As the Hapan Infiltrator ascended through the atmosphere, the occupants of Fenris’ Dirge felt a sense of purpose, and one of renewal. Body, mind, and spirit had been healed, restored. A general sense of optimism had returned despite the incidents surrounding the black stone dagger.

And when Fenris’ Dirge left the spacelane, entering hyperspace in a flash of pseudomotion, no one noticed that the nondescript ship that had tailed them from a distance soon followed, its destination the same as those aboard the Hapan ship: Cosmatanic Steppes.

Chapter 11: Bad News

“…No, I understand Koawan Telow’na. No; thank you again for the update. Please extend our best to Master Karmack and Lady Arnor at Endor. Fenris’ Dirge out.”

D’Aylanna’s troubled expression had turned her blue lips into a thin line. Turning, her dark eyes looked right into my hazel. “…Shakal…”

I stepped forward, enveloping my wife’s small body in a hug, her face pressed against my chest. “I know, Ereneda. We’ll deal with it…” Jennira’s escape was bad enough and the loss of four Gray Jedi was a tragedy but the exact details as to how it had been done… “Interdicted” Koawan Telow’na had said. She had been very…deliberate in her choice of words. How the hell did the Imperials…?

My wife was the strongest person I knew but I could tell that she was legitimately concerned. And looking above her head at Jorya… She looked truly terrified. Our daughter had reason to be worried, if Jorya’s description regarding her experience during her Delve was any indicator to go by…

“Look…we can’t do anything about that right now.” I looked at Jorya and then down at my wife. “We mourn our compatriots and allies. But we still have a job to do. And right now, we’ve got to find Doctor Aphra. With luck, we can find out more about the crystal of Rur; perhaps who purchased it…” I fell silent. Breathe. Balance. “Thanks to Stril, we have our lead. Karm and Arnor are counting on us; we will not let them down.”

I hoped that my words had buoyed my wife and daughter. They certainly hadn’t done anything to alleviate my own anxiety. But I let none of that show. “Let’s get ready.”

<<<<< >>>>>

The Cosmatanic Steppes was a geological oddity. Located in the Outer Rim, the gas giant that the Steppes occupied was unnamed but suspended above the gaseous core, a large continent of grasslands lay atop the incomplete mantle. It was a haven for archaeologists, geologists, bio-astronomers, and scientists the galaxy throughout. During the Historical Art Rush, it’s population had millupled, that is, had increased 1,000-fold. This had created a fantastically outrageous economy, mostly based on “futures” and “unique” exhibits. Consequently, the Steppes also had become home to a wealthy elite, effete and with a marked propensity for sloth.

Walking through one of the countless bazaars, we three had on our robes, hoods up to shade us against the trinary-star daylight that beat down upon the Steppes during the day. After having done some reconnoitering, we’d gathered intel regarding the doctor: apparently, she had “retired” here in the Steppes. Unfortunately, that meant that she was now a member of said elite…and it was in that economic strata that a ruthless social war was facilitated. And—according to rumor—Doctor Aphra had been “captured” and was to be “ransomed.” And, despite even D’Aylanna’s mental abilities, we were unable to glean just what that entailed…

Making our way ever inward, the Steppes were designed in a series of concentric circles, the further inward and upward one went, the richer the tenants. Our target was located in an enormous manse near the center of the city. As we made our way closer to the center, we also noticed that there were many, many more security guards.

Finally, we’d made it to the closest level just under Aphra’s manse. After we’d walked around it—twice—I was at a loss as how to proceed. D’Aylanna and I put our heads together while we quietly discussed how best to continue. It was then that I felt Jorya’s hand upon my back.

“Father? I…think I know what this is.” My wife and I had identical looks of expectation. She continued, looking somewhat diffident, “…when I was talking to Stril, he was telling me that the ‘upper-class simpletons’ of the Steppes had these…games.” She grinned in remembrance. “And the games usually constituted some form of…humiliation.” I could tell that she was still thinking of Stril.

“OK, Dear One. So…what are we to do now?” Looking around, I saw no one in the vicinity.

Jorya’s eyes narrowed. Her keen eyesight was far superior to mine. Slowly she scanned the façade of the clustered buildings. And abruptly stopped. “There, Father.” She pointed at…nothing. At least, nothing that I could immediately see. The nondescript architecture was absolutely alike every other one on the level: brown-gray ferrocrete. When I continued to look at her disbelievingly, she sighed, “Sorry, Father, Mother. This way.”

As we followed our daughter, she came to stand in front of one of the myriad ponds that dotted the landscape, interspersed throughout the manicured lawns. As it was, I could see no difference and said as much to the Togruta. “Dear One, remember that you can see much more clearly than I can.”

Jorya grinned. “No, Father it’s not that. The answer is in the pond. Well…more like through the pond.” Her blue eyes held humor in them.

I stared at the pond. It was a large, semi-circular, shallow vessel that had a high wall on the far side… I scrutinized the far wall…only now noticing that it did not line up exactly with the surrounding buildings. “Ah…an optical illusion.” Confident, I stepped over the low wall and into the pond itself.

To late, I heard Jorya’s warning, “No, Father!” Having expected the bottom to be the same level of the lawns, I had all my weight forward. So it was that I fell completely into the pond, the “floor” much lower than the surrounding grounds. Easily treading water despite my robes, I found the sloping bottom, walking myself to the opposite side.

Meanwhile, both D’Aylanna and Jorya had found “hidden” footsteps where the water merely came to their ankles. Walking up the stairs on the far side, I was soaking wet while both women were dry and laughing.

“…Well, Shakal I can honestly say that you truly are a Water Warrior now.” My wife’s mirth was infectious: Jorya laughed openly while I came to see the hilarity of what I imagined was quite a site: a big, bearded man in drenched gray robes. As rivulets of water ran down my face, I suddenly noticed that we were no longer alone.

Standing further down the hidden tunnel, a bizarrely dressed couple were watching us in obvious enjoyment. “What did I tell you, Sendal?” said an incredibly fat Herglic as he faced his much slimmer partner. “I knew that we’d have a good game day!”

The woman—Sendal—was a long-necked Kaminoan that had what passed for a smile on her face. “You did Tulan, you did…but I still won the wager as only the big human was dunked…” She looked dubiously at D’Aylanna and Jorya, “…and not the Hapan nor the Togruta.”

The Herglic made a sound accompanied by a loud exhalation from the blowhole on his forehead. “Double or nothing that they can’t be ransomed. Given or taken?” He put out his large, solid looking hand towards the Kaminoan.

Cocking her head, Sendal studied each of us in turn, finally nodding. “Given.” She shook hands with the Herglic.

“Taken!” Tulan exclaimed, another loud breath billowed as he shook the Kaminoan’s delicate hand. He then turned his enormous Cetacean head towards us. “So…you’re not punters…are you part of the creditholds?”

The Herglic could have been speaking Gungun for all the sense that it made to me. Thankfully, Jorya seemed able to decipher what he was saying.

“You’d be wrong. We’re beucoup punters, innit? So: you won over Sendal. Double, that.” She winked at me. “Triple or nothing to see Doc Aphra.” She spit in her hand, holding out to Tulan.

The Herglic…smiled. I think. “Given!” His hand engulfed the Togruta’s delicate one.

“Taken!” She pumped his fist twice before releasing. “One moment,” she said turning from Tulan. In a softer voice, she gathered D’Aylanna and I and took us aside. “OK, we’ll need to wager…something…” As her voice trailed off, she stared at D’Aylanna’s ring, the band that I’d given her for our wedding. Jorya stood up straight. “Mother…we’re going to need your ring, please.”

Arching her dark blue eyebrow, my wife slowly took off the band. As she did so, it glinted in the sunlight, the exotic metal looked smoky from one angle, iridescent from another. “I trust you, Jorya. But you must needs explain to me exactly how this helps us.” She handed our daughter the ring.

Breathing in slowly, Jorya put her head right next to D’Aylanna’s. “This is going to be our ‘entry fee.’ I mean, it’ll be the wager for our entry.” My wife’s eyes could have shattered quadranium for how hard they looked. “This is our only way to get to Doctor Aphra.” She gently reminded. Nonplussed, D’Aylanna gave a small nod.

Jorya walked back up to Tulan. “Here. What’s the contest?” She dropped the ring into the Herglic’s enormous hand. As soon as the metal band touched his skin, he made it disappear. He gave a shrewd and pointed look to Sendal.

“You’re witness. I won ‘tween us. Now: the Togruta has ‘taken!’” Again, his blowhole made a noise, expelling a breath. He handed Sendal my wife’s ring.

“That she did, that she did.” The Kaminoan agreed. “So: contest to begin!”

This time Jorya looked as confused as did D’Aylanna or I. She shrugged, looking apologetic. I stepped forward, the water still dripping off of me. “OK. What’s the ‘contest?’”

Sendal grinned savagely. “Oh, since your Togruta has ‘taken,’ it is to Tulan to ‘cide.” I did not like the sound of that.

Walking past us, he stepped into the shallow side of the deep pool. “Since you’re already ‘pared for our ‘test, I choose you, ‘uman.” His enormous finger stabbed at me. “And the ‘test be…‘Breavebrudder!’”

I stood motionless, having understood almost none of it; D’Aylanna clearly hadn’t either. But by the look on Jorya’s face…it was not good. “Um…Father. He said that the contest is which one can hold his breath the longest. If you win: you’re now ‘brother’ to Tulan and he’ll speak for us to gain entry.”

Well, that didn’t necessarily sounds so bad… I said as much but even before I’d finished my sentence, Jorya was shaking her head vehemently. “No, Father.” She now had a hint of fear in her voice. “You don’t understand. If you come up for air before Tulan or…‘forfeit’ then…Tulan will…‘reave’ you.” What the hell… Quietly, Jorya stepped forward, her voice dropping to match, “He’ll…eat you, Father.”

I stared at Tulan. I had no doubt that he could make good on his…threat. The Herglic must have been almost two and a half meters tall, and weighed almost four times what I did. But…what other choice did we have? We were lucky to have gotten this far…

“I accept.” I spit in my hand and thrust it towards Tulan. Smiling (?) a toothy grin, his huge hand dwarfed mine. He had a malevolent set about his face.

As I walked back into the pool, the water quickly came up to my chest as I ventured further. Tulan was already almost completely submerged, the smile never having left his face. His blowhole made loud inhalations as he breathed in, oxygenating his body. I quickly did likewise, simultaneously preparing myself mentally with the Force.

“Begin.” Tulan stated grandly just before he immersed himself completely. And just before my eyes went under the water, I saw both D’Aylanna and Jorya with identical looks of apprehension on their faces.

And then I sank deeply into the water.

Chapter 12: Lagniappe

Quiet.

Perfect. I settled in, focusing on a meditative technique that D’Aylanna had taught me. And I withdrew into myself.

Gaetana’s orange saber blade was impenetrable. And all of the power attacks that I’d come to rely upon were useless, worse than useless. And even as she pressed her attack against me, her smile never faltered. And I knew that I was doomed… I saw her effortlessly parry every attack, cutting through my forearm and calf when she tired of playing with me.

As she walks towards me, a thought forms. Taking one more step to deliver a killing blow, I raise up my hand, the hand with my cortosis glove. Only…this time it’s different. She’s different. This time, she sees the cortosis glove. And smiling, she halts her stroke and instead, stabs out at me, impaling me, burning in my chest… wait, what…?

Distantly, I’m aware that my chest feels a burning sensation… I try to regain center, focus. Again, I withdraw into myself, this time further.

The man in black was too fast. Every stroke he parried, every attack he countered. I thought that D’Aylanna and I would be enough…but I was even wrong about that. And when I saw her body, crumpled at the foot of the pine tree, pure rage overcame me. But even that was not enough. First my saber, next my hand, then my…side. And…again, pain.

Looking up, I see the man in black above me. Only…this time, it’s different. He’s different. This time, I see the saberpike raised…and then the man in black inhales quickly, swinging with all of his power. The red blade descends…I can actually feel the heat on my head…and my arm… wait, what…?

Suddenly, realization floods into my consciousness. I can feel hands on my head and on my arm. Even blurry as they are through the water, I can see that they belong to my wife and daughter. My chest is burning, lungs wanting to reflexively inhale. I kick off of the bottom of the pond, my head breaking the surface of the water. Sucking in deep breaths of air, I take a moment to clear the water from my eyes and look around…to see a scene that I did not expect.

“Well done, Shakal.” D’Aylanna’s smiling face is the first thing I see. Thank the Maker… And Jorya’s hands rub my back and shoulder. My chest begins to rise and fall with regularity, more or less.

“Oh, Dad…” my daughter’s smile warms me. Looking past her, I see Sendal grinning broadly (yet slightly disconcerting) as she meets my eyes and then looks down upon Tulan. The Herglic was doubled over, coughing; his blowhole wheezing as he inhales deeply, only to be interrupted by another coughing fit.

“…You…how…well…” Tulan’s voice rasps as he attempts to get a word in edgewise between coughs. Finally, with a deep inhalation from his blowhole, he quiets down. His completely black eyes stare at me as if seeing something…unbelievable. “…How is a ‘uman able to hold his breath for so long?”

My face impassive, I looked at Tulan. “I’ve won the contest. Now, I want for you to take us to Doctor Aphra.”

Walking to D’Aylanna, Sendal casually handed her back the wedding band she’d been holding as collateral. “Yes, Tulan. The human won. And triple.” Her long neck bowed slightly to Jorya. “Come. I will take you to the manse where Tulan can…recover. And you can see Doctor Aphra”

Again dripping wet, I made my way over to my wife. “Ereneda, how long was I under?” I quietly asked, following the odd pair as they directed Jorya, D’Aylanna, and myself further in the maze of ferrocrete paths.

D’Aylanna spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Almost forty minutes. You must have been in torpor. Any memories?” I nodded. “Yes, that’s indicative of a deep trance such as yours.” She turned her eyes up to mine, love and worry shining through. “Shakal, you must be careful. You went so deep that Jorya and I had trouble reviving you.”

“Sorry. But…at least we’ve gained the access that we needed.”

And as if mirroring my words, we stopped in front of a pair of metallic electronically sealed doors. Tulan waved his hand in front of a sensor node causing the doors to slowly part. As we entered, the relative darkness of the manse was significant enough that we had to allow our eyes to adjust, the lack of light enough to night-blind D’Aylanna. Although, no one would suspect it given her sense of acuity thanks to her other heightened senses. And, of course, the Force.

Following Tulan and Sendal further into the enormous building, my suspicions began to strengthen again. I could tell that both D’Aylanna and Jorya felt the same, ready to grab and ignite their lightsabers in an instant. I fully opened myself to the Force, projecting outward. And there, just on the periphery, I felt them: multiple life forms. Soon, with my senses alert, I followed Tulan and Sendal into an enormous, brightly lit grand room.

From the dimensions of it, the room must have taken up the entire top of the manse. Lining the walls were various exhibits: paintings, archaic weapons, incredibly lifelike wax statues, a perpetual motion device, even an ancient water clock. And lounging about the room was an assortment of peoples from all corners of the galaxy: human, Gran, Duros, Rodian, Lorrdian, even an H’nemthe. One and all they exuded contemptuous pretentiousness.

And as I looked around, I noticed that the current occupants of the room did not match the number of life forms that I’d felt through the Force. Perhaps they are hiding…? But even as the thought came, I knew it to be wrong… But I was interrupted before I could complete my line of reasoning.

“…And whom, pray tell, are these…persons?” the Gran practically spat, adjusting his trifocals as if to verify that his three eyes were actually seeing…whatever he thought he was. I was immediately reminded of the kommisars of Dalos IV: greedy, ostentatious, and venal. Needless to say, my hackles were up.

Tulan announced, “Thur’st’en, these are punters…who have already proven themselves at the ‘test.” Sendal nodded vigorously.

Surreptitiously, D’Aylanna touched my elbow, almost imperceptibly indicating with her chin for me to look over in the far corner. Immobile in a chair, leaning over as if in contemplation, sat a slender human woman. She had long brown hair, an attractive if weathered look about her. And she had dozens of tubes feeding into her extremities, her chest, and her head. What the hell…?

The Gran—Thur’st’en—followed my gaze, as I’d been staring. “Ahh, yes. Our most prized possession. Behold! The Steppes very own Doctor Chelli Aphra! The only in-subordinate subordinate—” he laughed at his own witticism, a throaty guffaw, “—of Vader whom he attempted to kill…but instead lived to tell the tale!” The only part of Aphra that moved was her eyes. If looks could kill…I thought. Silently, I gave both D’Aylanna and Jorya knowing looks. They knew what to do; we’d had years to develop an unspoken rapport bordering sometimes on precognition. Outwardly, we all looked nonchalant and unperturbed.

Thur’st’en’s grandstanding wasn’t finished, apparently. “And now…Tulan tells me that we have a human that can hold his breath even longer than himself!” The change was subtle but the room felt as if it had grown colder, a pall of menace infecting the atmosphere. “Lairds, ladies. I think that we’ve had the considerable luck to find our newest addition!” I don’t like this. Clandestinely, I readied my lightsaber. Meanwhile, clamor around the room echoed as the assorted sentients clapped and cheered. And when the Gran faced me, I immediately noticed the blaster in his hand. Indeed, looking out of the corner of my eye, I saw that each and everyone of them had a blaster pointed at me.

Thur’st’en had a malevolent look on his face. “For the Togruta and the Hapan: contact the Hutts, Myzm the Third I should think. They could always use more chattel.” He must have seen the scowl that appeared on my face. “Oh don’t worry human. You’ll be safe, here.” He gesticulated around the room, pointedly pausing at each statue. “After all, they are!”

Incredibly lifelike wax statues…

It was Jorya who reacted first, with her superior eyesight. “…By the Maker… The statues…they…they’re people.” Her voice was soft, appalled.

“Welllll…” the Gran’s voice was mirthful yet derisive, “…I wouldn’t consider them ‘people’ really. But they’re certainly trophies!” The collected assemblage laughed. “Unique, one and all, they are part of our ‘game.’ You see: we ‘ransom’ them…to each other! And to the winner: the spoils!” Walking over to Aphra, the Gran poked her. She neither flinched nor reacted in the least. “Not as crude as, say, carbonite but certainly just as good at preservation! Once the good doctor here is saturated with the protein catalyst, we’ll add the final reagent. And: viola! Our very own Doctor Chelli Aphra! Never to be duplicated!” Thur’st’en pointed at Sendal. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s your turn for ‘Acquisitions’ is it not?”

The Kaminoan nodded, a wicked grin splitting her face. “Yes, especially as I’ve brought this new one.” She gestured disgustedly at the Herglic. “Tulan almost let them get away, the fool.”

“Not so! I assessed them with the ‘test!” the fat Herglic balled up his fist, pointing his thumb at himself. “I demand my ‘alf-share!”

“I’ve heard enough.” D’Aylanna’s voice was soft, the quiet of death, silencing all of the talking within the room. “Now.”

As one, Jorya, D’Aylanna, and I ignited our lightsabers, and attacked. We’d all heard enough. We gave no quarter even as cries of “mercy” pierced the air. These were not innocents. They were a malignant cancer. As such, they were eradicated.

Closing down my lightsaber, I looked around the room, limbs littering the floor. And one part of me had a macabre thought that someone—most likely the former occupants—would consider the tableau…“art.” Grimly, I looked to my wife and daughter. Jorya’s face looked…angry. D’Aylanna? She had the imperious look appropriate for her royal status. And having passed judgment, she’d found them all…wanting.

Making our way through the grisly scene, we approached Doctor Aphra. Her face impassive, D’Aylanna held her hands up to either side of the woman’s face, lightly touching her. “Doctor Aphra, we’ve come to help you. If you allow me in, I can know better how to do so.” The woman’s eyes softened and D’Aylanna began to Delve her. Silently, a few moments passed as my wife stared into Aphra’s eyes. Quietly, she released her head. “Thank you, doctor.”

Moving about the tubes deliberately, D’Aylanna began pressing various buttons. Finally as she stepped behind some biomechanical machinery, I heard the equipment come to life and the tubes began to withdraw. Apparently before doing so, the machine must have administered a coagulating agent because the wounds barely bled. Almost at once, Jorya grabbed Aphra’s arm, healing flows from the Force coursing from her and into the doctor. Before long, she was able to slowly move her head, shortly followed by her arms and then her legs. We had introduced ourselves during the interim.

“Thank you,” she slurred, drool dripping down her chin as the anesthetic slowly wore off.

“Actually, doctor, we could use your help.” I added my own Healing to Jorya’s, despite my meager skill at it. D’Aylanna slowly moved about the room, scrutinizing everything.

“Anything…I can do…I’ll do it.” Aphra’s voice was stronger now, easier to understand.

“Can you tell me about the Crystal of Rur? Whom did you sell it to, what they wanted with it, can you put us into contact with them?” The doctor’s head was bowed but she stared her brown eyes into my hazel.

“The Rur crystal.” She said in between breaths. “FicTeneBris Corporation. No idea what they wanted it for. And they contacted me through intermediaries. Sorry.” Her face mirrored her regret.

Damn. Then a thought hit me. “Doctor…have you come across any other kyber crystals?” I held my breath.

Doctor Aphra’s face broke out into a wide grin. “Oh, Zearic, I can do better than that…” She paused but whether or not if it was to catch a breath or for dramatic effect I did not know.

“I know where the Emperor’s kyber crystal processing stations are.”

Just to preface this chapter, I have an image that is a perfect analog for the tactical armor that Zearic wears:
(https://image.ibb.co/dk2KS6/Screenshot_2013_10_15_00_00_33_933072104.jpg)
Only difference: gray robes :D
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Chapter 13: Visions

“Geonosis?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you certain?”

Aphra’s brown eyes looked at me from underneath her brow. “Absolutely. The crystal manufactories have been there ever since the Emperor and Vader began building the first Death Star.” Her head lowered, Jorya still administering healing via the Force. “And when the Second Death Star was being built, crystal production had already begun. That’s one of the reasons that the superlaser was already operational despite the superstructure being incomplete.”

“Yes, that follows.” D’Aylanna’s voice was introspective as she approached us. Turning to me, she lowered her voice. “Shakal, look at these.” And when she opened her hand, I saw several light-blue kyber crystals. “I found them amongst the other paraphernalia. Do you recognize them?” As the light caught the facets of the crystals, the light blue seemed to have an almost preternatural glow about them.

Shaking my head, I slowly responded. “No. I’ve never seen kyber crystals that are that…color.” I pulled one of them out of my wife’s small hand and held it up to the light, scrutinizing it. Again, it seemed to have an inner glow about it, pulsing in time with…something.

“Father? What is that?” Jorya’s voice held inquisitiveness but also…was it, fear? She approached me, her blue eyes large.

“A kyber crystal that your Mother found amongst the collection.” Looking into her face, I was suddenly aware that my daughter also had a look of…recognition. “Why Jorya?” Turning the crystal in my fingers, I added, “Have you seen these before?”

As she slowly shook her head, she never took her eyes from the crystal. “No. That is, I have never seen them. But…” Jorya seemed almost reticent to continue, but when she did, words poured out of her mouth, faster and faster. “…Well, I have seen them in a…vision. When I Delved the Night Sister. I still don’t know why I saw them when I probed her but… Well, they’re called ‘Permafrost crystals.’ Jennira…showed them to me. I don’t know why she would do that or what the significance is…” She slowly paused. “But in my vision, the crystals would…strobe.”

Looking at my daughter curiously, my brow furrowed. “What do you mean? It’s pulsating now.” I even held up the crystal to prove my point. Turning my eyes from the crystal to Jorya, I stopped. She looked incredulously at me.

“…Father. That crystal looks…opaque to me.” Jorya’s eyes looked dubious.

“As it does to me, Shakal.” D’Aylanna’s voice agreed from behind my shoulder.

I looked straight at the crystal. Even as I stared, the…permafrost(?) crystal’s light throbbed within. “…Neither of you can see that? Seriously?” My eyes never left it. The light within the crystal was now strobing. Now I looked from Jorya to D’Aylanna. “Nothing?”

“Not in the least.” D’Aylanna’s voice was quiet, flat.

“No, Father. Nothing.” Jorya sounded almost apologetic.

After considering a moment, I decided to pocket the crystal. Perhaps Kage Oyuna can help me… Later…

Mentally shrugging, I went back over to Doctor Aphra. “Doctor, you were saying about Geonosis?” Seeing them out of the corner of my eye, D’Aylanna and Jorya had put their heads together, their voice quiet and almost conspiring.

Rubbing her hands through her hair, she inhaled slowly before talking again. “Yeah. Geonosis was the Empire’s primary site for both Death Stars. Well…even before the first Death Star was complete, Grand Moff Tarkin—under the implicit direction of the Emperor—deemed that Geonosis should be...‘sterilized.’” She shuddered as if reliving a memory. “I…that is, Lord Vader had…‘hired’ me to investigate the planet afterwards.” Her voice lowered. “The Empire was…quite thorough.” I could imagine.

Looking at each of the women in turn, I was deadly serious. “Let’s go.” I collected my robes that I’d shrugged off. But when I straightened, I noticed D’Aylanna’s body went rigid midstep.

Jorya noticed almost immediately after I had. “Mother? Mom?!” She was about to shake her when I firmly but gently grabbed my daughter’s arms.

“No Jorya, don’t.” I knew what this portended. It had been awhile since my wife had had a vision. “Your Mother’s alright. Just give her a moment.”

True to my words, D’Aylanna’s body relaxed as she inhaled a deep breath. “Shakal. We must needs travel to Geonosis with haste. Master Karmack needs our help.” Her dark eyes looked…haunted.

“Ereneda, what did you see?” I asked, noticing that Jorya’s face must have mirrored my own: love and concern filled her blue eyes. Standing next to my wife, I put my arm around her small waist.

“…Nothing explicit. Menace. A dark tide awash with hate and…intent. To subjugate?” D’Aylanna’s Basic was impeccable but she still thought in Hapan so often her choice of words were not as…exact as she wished. Still: her Basic was much better than my Hapan. However…

I looked at Jorya. “Dear One, you speak Hapan better than I. D’Aylanna, tell Jorya please.” My wife nodded, relating her vision.

Jorya looked awestruck. And fearful. “Oh Mother… Father, she said that there is a…presence awaiting us at Geonosis. All of us; Master Karmak, Lady Arnor, and Ken as well. Someone is orchestrating events in the hopes of…dominating. A new empire. And…a new dark lord.”

Silence hung in the air. I finally spoke, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

<<<<< >>>>>

We’d offered Doctor Aphra a place on our ship but she declined, grateful for the rescue. She told us that she would collect what she needed and then leave the Cosmatanic Steppes. But before she did, she hugged each of us in turn, D’Aylanna the longest, thanking her profusely.

“If you ever need anything, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” She had told my wife.

Now, with the blue-shift of the light from the hyperspace tunnel bathing the canopy in the cockpit, D’Aylanna joined Jorya and I in the small lounge area of Fenris’ Dirge.

“Ereneda, are you saying that we’re expected then?” I asked as she took a seat next to me.

Nodding her head, D’Aylanna’s voice was soft, strong, resolute. “Yes. But…we still have a chance. But…we must be…unorthodox in our tactics.”

I briefly laughed. “Ereneda. Our ‘normal’ is unorthodox.” I became serious one again. “Still, please tell us your thoughts…”

<<<<< >>>>>

As D’Aylanna entered the jump coordinates into the computer, I prepared. Sitting on the deck in our room alone, I focused on the blue kyber crystal that lay before me. And as the pulsations slowly continued, I finally understood why: it was in time with my own beating heart.

I knew something about how Singers often felt an…affinity towards their crystals. The stronger the Singer, the more intense the bond. And while I could not Sing like the Mak’Tor, I was definitely…aware of the Song. But this…this was different.

When I was first apprenticed to Master Kazic, he once told me of Jedi that had such empathy with their crystals. I smiled in remembrance, his gruff lilting voice instructing me on the ways of lightsaber construction. Most students would usually be able to do so on their third or fourth attempts. It took me over twenty. Kazic would often say that the Maker must have made me first since I would need all of the time in the universe to finally get it right. Yet…he never once got agitated or angry with me. The man’s patience was truly a virtue. But he would often relate of a symbiosis between kyber and Jedi that transcended the usual, creating a bond between weapon and wielder. Again, I smiled wistfully, thanking him who helped save me.

Just as with D’Aylanna. Like Kazic, she had a seemingly inexhaustible supply of forbearance for me. And it was under her tutelage that I’d finally been able to learn. I would prevail at this, just as before.

And now: I focused, this time embraced in the Force. The crystal began to rise, the light within strobing now with a bright yet relaxing radiance. Concentrating, I then took both ends of my disassembled lightsaber and carefully but securely constructed the emitter, hilt, and pommel housing the new crystal. Finally, I reached out with my hand, touching the weapon for the first time. The comfortable banding around the hilt felt familiar yet it was the new crystal with which I felt an attachment. Igniting the lightsaber, the rich sapphire blade was beautiful, again subtly pulsating in time with my own heart.

But I still needed to prepare. Walking towards one of the lockers in my room, I keyed the mechanism. Inside was a gift that D’Aylanna had given me for our wedding years ago.

Constructed of Charubah steel, indigenous only to Hapes, D’Aylanna had had commissioned a suit of combat armor for me. The plating was not only incredibly lightweight but it never hindered movement. The style hearkened back to the time of the Old Republic, back when the Sith were legion and the Jedi were true warriors and not just emotionless bureaucrats. But what truly made this armor unique was that somehow D’Aylanna had incorporated a weave of beskar within the plating. It was as good as Song-steel, if not necessarily cortosis. Still: unlike cortosis, it would not eventually shatter.

Within the vambraces, I had two stiletto vibroblades, one in each forearm. And the same within the greaves: one in each boot. The tactical hooded surcoat was a Mak’Tor gift that Karm and Arnor had presented to D’Aylanna and I during our time on M’Tzigon: a dark gray blaster-dissipating mesh woven throughout the cloak. It was a remarkable gift, one that they’d given to myself, D’Aylanna, and Jorya. Smiling, I remember Karm saying that he called it being “prepared.”

Attaching my newly constructed lightsaber opposite my shoto on my belt, the armor felt like a second skin. D’Aylanna’s vision foremost in my mind, I was grateful that I had donned it. Before walking out of the room, I paused, looking at the pack that I'd had at Bar'leth. Making a decision that I hadn't knew that I was vacillating on, I put my hand in the pack, withdrawing the black stone dagger and put it in the holster at the back of my belt. Walking out of our shared quarters, I joined my wife in the lounge area. She already had her own armor on, lithe and formfitting. I knew that Jorya would also have her own personal armor, courtesy of D’Aylanna’s position within the Hapes Consortium.

“Shakal, I’ve made the course corrections. It should allow us to excise almost twelve parsecs from our route, including Arkanis. With luck, we’ll be able to be of assistance to Master Karmack…” My wife’s eyes lost focus as she once again scrutinized her visions.

As I’d said: D’Aylanna was a master at Force Precognition. If she said that Karmak and Arnor were there at Geonosis then I knew that they were.

But I also knew that her visions were never wrong. Ever. And looking at her, I knew that she was trying to remain calm. To anyone else, she had the outward appearance of serenity and composed assuredness. But I knew her better.

D’Aylanna Vih’Torr, Master Gray of the Vhal’Dan, was terrified. And we were heading within the dark tide itself.

Special thanks to Karm for trusting me with his characters and Medwyn for his insights concerning Water Forms :)
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Chapter 14: Contrapasso (part 1) (This takes place directly after Wind Chimes, Chapter 15: The Butcher's Bill)

Exiting Fenris’ Dirge, I was first to see that Arnor was not with Karm or Ken. As I took the taller man’s hand in my grip, I asked, “It’s good to see you, my friend but is Arnor alright? Ken.” I nodded and gave a brief smile to the shorter teidowan then turned my attention back to Karm.

“She’s alive. She’s recovering.” I could see by the tight set of his eyes that there was more to it than that but I respected his prerogative in what he wanted to tell. Nodding in understanding, I looked at our surroundings while I waited for Jorya and D’Aylanna to disembark.

Before we’d made planetfall, Karm had transmitted coordinates on where to rendezvous. It was one of the major hive-spires, adjacent to the Petranaki Arena. The redish landscape and orange sky was a direct contrast to the Steppes. Combined with the gravity of the situation, it was disconcerting to say the least.

Feeling Jorya’s hand on my pauldron, when I saw D’Aylanna walk down the ramp, I knew that we were ready. Grasping both my lightsabers, I was about to talk when my wife spoke first.

“Shakal, you and Master Karmak needs must go together.” Her dark eyes were watery and full of worry.

“I was going to say that Ken and I would set the pontite.” Karm’s steady voice intoned. Even as he spoke, D’Aylanna was shaking her head.

“Forgive me, Master Karmak. I’ve had a vision. You and my husband must go together; otherwise, without the other you both will succumb to the dark tide.” D’Aylanna’s blue lips thinned in apprehension. “I will take Jorya and Ken to set the pontite along geodesic positions.” Suddenly, her hand shot up, resting upon Karm’s tall shoulder, her voice full of compassion. “Karm…trust the Singer.”

With only the barest of hesitation, Karm nodded, giving no hint of astonishment. “Thank you, D’Aylanna.” He faced Ken. “Watch their backs, son,” he said as he smiled. And turning, Karm gathered me with a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go, Zearic.”

As I fell into step next to him, I said, “Lead the way, Karm.” He nodded without a word, instead grabbing his own lightsaber. Together, we ran into the hive-spire, heading further inward.

Instead of waiting for our eyes to adjust, we ignited our lightsabers, Karm’s golden blade casting a warm glow which, combined with my own silver and sapphire, helped to dispel the oppressive darkness. Following the tunnels, I had already opened myself to the Force, projecting ever outwards, looking for life signs. As I did so, I could hear Karm gently Singing what I recognized as a battle-Song. Up ahead… I thought. And before we knew it, they were upon us.

Springing from the shadows, six figures with red lightsabers attacked. They were almost all different species—Zabrak, Trandoshan, Lorridian, Duros, and human—but they were of single intent: to kill. There was also another similarity: they were all Singers. Karm engaged the nearest three, his saberwork immediately recognizable as superior to the Dark-Siders. Gritting my teeth, I simultaneously went through my Mental Water Forms as I met my three opponents, my blades against theirs.

As my Force-assisted muscles propelled my body quick as thought, part of my mind made notice of each of our blades: one and all, they were pulsating. With Karm and the Dark-Siders, there was a…cadence that was reflected in both voice and blade. With my own, my sapphire lightsaber beat with my own heart.

The shock on each Dark-Sider’s face was evident: they didn’t know that they faced a Singer, much less one of Karm’s caliber. And it was then that I had my second epiphany: Karm’s battle-Song mirrored my own attacks, almost exact. My Nexu Master had taught me the Water Form: the style was one of flow and control and, like waves washing ashore, the moves followed the rhythm of advance and retreat. So too was Karm’s Song: the changes in the Song directly changed our environment; notes—form—were only temporary in the flow. Whether the Song—the form—was gentle or hard depended on the situation, changing from one state to another as a matter of the moment. Both Song and Form were melodies in one harmonious tune, the whole greater than the sum of its parts. I smiled, feeling kinship once again as we fought as though of one mind. Within moments, four of our opponents lay dead, the fifth failing in his defense against my shoto. And as I feinted low, the opening that it created was immediately exploited, my blue blade sweeping upwards, cutting the Lorridian’s face completely from his head.

Glancing past Karm and his opponent, I noticed that a small army of Sith-Shadows were attempting to flank us. Before they could blindside him, I made a quick jump to engage them. Even as their numbers continued to grow, I was untouchable; with my lightsabers an extension of my arm, of my will, I furiously cut them down. And while a few blaster shots did make it past my blades, the dissipating weave of my cloak and armor protected me. Soon, I noticed that there were less and less Sith-Shadows—and blaster fire—to contend with: feeling his presence from behind, Karm’s golden blade was scything through the Sith-Shadows upon my flank, returning the favor. Soon, we met towards the middle of the large antechamber, not one Sith-Shadow remaining alive.

“Thank you.” We both said in unison. Smiling, Karm closed down his saber, kneeling by the Dark Singers’ bodies. And from each fallen Dark Singer, I saw him open the housing that held the pontite crystal, removing them from the lightsaber. “These Vitreous weapons each have a potent primed crystal that I can take advantage of.” He turned his eyes towards me. “But how is it that their Singing didn’t affect you? I could almost feel their Songs being absorbed around you.”

“I don’t kno—” I suddenly stopped, immediately thinking about the black stone dagger. “…I think that it might have something to do with…this.” I reached behind my cloak, pulling out the dagger. Karm’s intense gaze scrutinized the seemingly innocuous weapon.

“Incredible.” With that, he had the last crystal from the Dark-Sider’s weapon in hand. He looked as if he were about to say something else when suddenly we both felt a disturbance in the Force coming from somewhere in front of us.

“Zearic…I need a short distraction.” He looked up, the hint of a smile on his face. “Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all.” I could feel the oppressiveness radiating out in waves of darkness from before me. “Just don’t forget D’Aylanna’s warning.” I said, only half-joking, running forward.

I noticed that from the distance we’d traveled, we were no longer in the hive-spire. As I continued down the halls, the rock crags were soon replaced by foundry machinery and automated assemblies. Soon, the tunnel opened into an enormous mechanized cavern, a break in the ceiling leading to the surface far overhead. And in front of me, a presence that I’d felt before…

With a lightsaber in her hand, the pulsing red blade slowly strobing in time with her Singing, Jennira stood a lone sentinel against me. Her face drawn back in a feral sneer, the witch made a flourish with her lightsaber, advancing upon me. “I’ve dreamed of this day. But before you die, I want for you to know that I will have my revenge upon your daughter.” I was already angry, but it was tempered with righteous justice. As my blue blade met her red, she ignited a second blade on her saberstaff, intent on bisecting me. Thankfully, I deflected her blade with my shoto, slowly circling. The Night Sister’s face furrowed in confusion. “…How is it you are resisting my Song?” And as she mentioned, I noticed that her Singing was diminished. Her Song still affected me but almost as if having been strained through a…filter, as if muted. Regardless, I was grateful for the effect. Jennira was not only powerful in the Force but clearly also a practiced saber practitioner.

Each attack that she pressed, I was able to parry but she was good enough to not allow for any riposte. And from time to time, she would try to distract me, either with a Force Push or some telekinetic missiles. Each attack I was able to thwart, to her growing agitation. “You will pay for the deaths of my brood-chattel. You will beg for death at my hands! You will come to realize that the only release left you in this world is a quick death that I will never grant you!” Emphasizing her words, her swings became more power-prone, less precise. Smiling inwardly, I…flowed into my next Form. Using the momentum from Jennira’s last lethal swing, I surged straight into her, grabbed her saberstaff and threw her across the room where she hit the far wall, hard.

Shaking her head as she rose to her knee, I wondered why she still had a small smile upon her lips. “Surrender. Or die.” My voice was cold but I could feel the heat of my anger below the surface. Yet with my sapphire blade at her throat, the witch only smiled further.

“Neither.” Her eyes flicked behind me for the briefest of moments. “Now you die.”

Before I knew it, I was attempting to pick myself off from the floor. I felt as if I’d been run over by a speeder. Trying to clear my field of vision, I shakily stood. What the hell…? Turning, I saw a figure clad completely in black. Almost two meters tall, he was slender, a mask hiding his face, the rest of his body in black durasteel armor. And before I’d regained my faculties, I was again blown across the room, through the far wall. Only my armor protected me from dire injuries, although I felt the soreness that promised future pain. As I came to rest, I heard Jennira’s voice behind me.

“Meet my Master, Darth Mendax.” She laughed, a melodious and pleasant sound. “And your death.” As if to illustrate her words, I was bodily thrust from the floor to the ceiling, a crushing force that even my armor couldn’t fully mitigate. After a moment, I fell and hit the floor, hard. Spitting blood, I tried to focus on this Mendax and his Singing.

And for the first time, I noticed that he held a staff affixed with a large, glowing green crystal, its light a sickly hue. “The Rur crystal…” I inadvertently said aloud.

“Yes.” Mendax’s voice sounded mechanical, inhuman. “I’m impressed. Most people know nothing of Rur, much less its provenance.” And then he again began to Sing, pain erupting all over my body. I felt as if my nerve endings were being burned by the coldest ice, that my tissues were being ripped from my bones, and my blood was being boiled. By the Maker… If Jennira’s Singing within the crevasses of the Canticum Lowlands had been bad, this was worse. “You see Zearic, the Rur crystal confers the ability to Sing. Not that the fools who had it before would know.” Mendax laughed. “They were actually using it as their computer core!”

I was doubled over in pain as both Mendax and Jennira approached me. My lightsabers…where? I thought. Spying them out of the corner of my eye, I was about to call them to me when a surging wave of pain inundated me. Compared to what the Night Sister had done to me, this was by far the worst. And even as I screamed, Mendax’s Singing was interrupted when he spoke, almost conversationally.

“You see, the Rur crystal also allows me to utilize people as if they were themselves kyber crystals. Like Jennira and her brood-chattel. And in conjunction with the pontite that Jennira and her sister Julwynn have provided me, an entire planet is mine to enthrall.” Both Mendax and the Night Sister stood above me as I writhed in agony. “And now, Zearic, before you die, know that I will make suffer your wife and your daughter, that they will plead for death, a death that I will deny them. And they will experience torments unending…and they will have you to thank.” Again, Mendax laughed.

Involuntarily, I closed my eyes against the agony that I anticipated to come…

And suddenly, I began to feel a comfortable warmth, healing coursing throughout my body, muscle, tendons, and ligaments mending themselves as my body felt…rejuvenated. Looking up at Mendax and Jennira, I could see that they were both confused. And on the periphery of my vision, I noticed that the Rur crystal’s glow no longer cast the eerie, ill green light about. From the core of the crystal, a pure golden radiance began to shine. I couldn’t help but smile.

“…By the Emperor’s ghost…” Mendax’s voice held disbelief, his Singing no longer effective. Besides him, the Night Sister looked about in fear.

“M…master? What’s happened?” Her black eyes looked haunted.

And that’s when I heard Karm’s Singing. And I wasn’t alone in doing so. Jennira’s mouth dropped in utter astonishment. And as I stood, I saw Mendax retreating towards the far tunnel. Calling my lightsabers to my hand I ignited them, the sapphire and silver blades casting shadows across the witch’s fallen face. Karm stood beside me, his baritone voice resplendent, his golden blade glowing like a newborn star.

“Great timing. Thanks.” I spoke quietly.

“Don’t mention it.” He said easily. Louder, “Jennira, surrender.”

“A Night Sister would rather die than be taken by the likes of you fools.” She said haughtily as she adopted an aggressive stance with her saberstaff.

Karm’s eyes bored into Jennira’s. “Julwynn would object to that.” He continued as the witch’s face changed from arrogance to shock. “You see, she didn’t surrender; she came to us willingly.” Karm’s smile took on an almost vicious slant. “I guess that you don’t know your sister half as well as you’d thought.”

Jennira’s entire body twitched, her face assumed a broken look. “No.” She said quietly. Then, as if a conflagration had ignited, the Night Sister shrieked, a howling keen that almost deafened us.

“NO!!!” And Jennira began to Sing, a torrent that threatened to subsume Karm and I, her saberstaff blades a continuous blazing crimson beating in cadence with her Song.

Screaming in order to be heard, Karm put his head next to mine, “She’s trying to wrest control of the crystals from me!” Looking at Rur, the crystal had resumed a green glow, albeit faint. “She’s using her own life-energies as well as the Force!” Force winds born of Jennira’s Singing buffeted us, threatening to break us against the wall. Both Karm and I went down to one knee. “Zearic…I’m holding control of the crystals but barely.” I could hardly hear Karm despite the fact that he had to scream at the top of his lungs.

I fought against the storm, squinting my eyes, hoping that a plan would take root. Think dammit! We couldn’t move; using the Force, I thrust my lightsaber at the Night Sister, throwing the blue blade at her. Right before it impaled her, my saber rebounded as if it had hit an invisible wall. I knew that Karm couldn’t release his own lightsaber and risk losing the Ancient One. And, in the back of my mind, I had a singular thought. The dagger… Grabbing the hilt, I reversed my grip and held it by the blade. And with a powerful flick of my arm, I sent the dagger end-over-end at Jennira. She must have expected her Force Storm to protect her as it had against my lightsaber; her face didn’t change from its furious scream.

Suddenly, the air around us was silent, both Karm and I stepping forward against the gale that no longer battered against us. Jennira’s eyes looked shocked for a moment…but then the life left them as she collapsed to the ground. The black stone dagger had buried itself to the hilt in her forehead.

Calling my lightsaber to my hand, I had to physically retrieve my dagger from the Night Sister’s body. Meanwhile, Karm was busy removing the Rur crystal from Mendax’s staff. Once detached, he placed it in a deep pocket of his combat smock. “Karm…where to now? I can’t sense Mendax…”

As if anticipating my question, he was already walking towards the far tunnel. “This way.” Again, Karm’s baritone voice Sang. Clearly, it was a healing Song, as it helped to assuage the agony that I’d suffered under Mendax’s Singing. I thanked him again as we ran down the tunnel, greasy and rusted pipes lining the entire passageway, small billowing clouds of vapor condensing around the ceiling. His head turned sideways, a grin on his face. “No problem. Maybe I can teach you next to gargle.”

I gave a short, appreciative laugh. “Why not?” With the Force flowing from me, I could feel three life signs in front of us, unmoving as if they were expecting us…

As the industrialized tunnel opened to the next antechamber, the walls changed back to the megalithic structures of the hive-spires. And once within I pulled up in shock. Mendax was standing there unconcerned but I looked past him at the other two people in the room. One was Mellichae, his cybernetic arm whole and grasping his pulsating saber. But his left arm was locked around the neck of the third person: Jorya. She was bloodied and bruised, one eye almost completely swollen shut, her lower armor all but missing, the femur of her right leg jutting out through a savage, ragged gash. She had a pair of binders around her wrists. No…! Dear One!

“Karmak, Zearic. You will both drop your swords and hand to me the Rur crystal.” Mendax pivoted his head and then addressed Karm directly, “If there is even a hint of Singing or using the Force, I will have Mellichae run the Togruta through.”

I stood there, hesitant. I didn’t know what to do… To his credit, Karm did not Sing…and neither did he relinquish the Rur crystal. “I cannot do that, Mendax.”

I knew that he was right. “Karm…” My voice was borderline pleading; I knew that we could NOT give Mendax the crystal…but I feared for my daughter…

“So be it… Mellichae, kill that tralk.” Mendax’s voice was flat, impassive.

Smiling and quicker than the eye could see, the Zabrak held out his left arm, gripping Jorya by the neck, his right arm holding his raised lightsaber, the red blade poised to cut her down. And laughing a gravelly, incredibly deep laugh, his right arm fell.

Contrapasso (part 2)

“Jorya!!” I took a step forward, readying a Force Pull, knowing that anything I did would be futile.

There was a flash of blue and both the Zabrak and Jorya flew from their places; Jorya to the floor and Mellichae up to the ceiling. He then dropped back to the floor like a clipped mynock, hitting some stacked crates. Nearby, his severed cybernetic arm reflexively gripped the still-ignited lightsaber, until the biomechanical servos recognized that they were no longer receiving electrical signals from the synapses and released the lightsaber, closing down the weapon.

With a curse Mendax ran, escaping through an opposite tunnel. Stunned, I turned back to see Ken holding his ice-blue lightsaber at the ready, standing just behind of where Mellichae and Jorya had been. Running to my daughter, I helped her up to her feet. “Karmak, can you please help her?”

Standing by Jorya, smiling a proud smile for Ken, Karm quietly began Singing a healing Song. Adding my own meager healing flows, I heartily thanked the teidowan, “Ken, you have my eternal gratitude! But…what happened? Where is D’Aylanna?”

Still standing where he’d telekinetically thrown the Zabrak from, he answered with a small grin on his face, “We were ambushed by Sith-Shadows before we could set all of the pontite so Master D’Aylanna told Knight Jorya and I to finish with the crystals while she ‘took care’ of them. But when I was setting the last one, Jorya was attacked by a couple of Dark Singers. I countered with a battle-Song and we fought back-to-back…but then that Zabrak attacked us.” Ken bowed his head, shame radiating off of him. “I…he got me with a Force Push… Jorya, she…she tried to stop him but… And he…took her.”

“Ken.” I spoke severely in order to get his attention. Looking up, his blue eyes tentatively but resolutely looking into my hazel, I sternly continued, “Ken. You saved her. I cannot thank you enough.” Slowly, his confidence returned. I smiled at him, “I owe you.” Looking from Ken to Karm Singing and then to Jorya, I saw that she looked better, if still a bit bruised. But the bone of her leg was no longer fractured and she was able to tentatively put her weight upon it.

“…Well, th…I mean, you’re welcome, maenowan.” Ken looked somewhat bashful, deliberately changing the subject. “Say…do you think that I…killed him?”

Both Jorya and I chuckled while Karm stopped Singing, speaking to his son fondly, “Well, Ken—”

Suddenly, a red blade arced through the air, cutting off Ken’s arm near the shoulder. The teidowan’s face contorted in both shock and pain; Karm’s yell echoed throughout the chamber. “No!”

Mellichae’s face appeared above and behind Ken’s shoulder, his rough, deep voice rasping, “No, you didn’t kill ‘him,’ but you did get ‘his’ attention!” And with that, he plunged his blade through Ken’s back, the red tip exploding through his chest.

“Ken! No!! NO!!!” And after a second of silence, Karm began to Sing.

When Mendax and even Jennira had Sang, they were drawing strength from the river that was the Force.

Karm was the river. No, he was an ocean.

As Karm Sang, the Rur crystal began to glow, becoming a radiance that began to outshine a thousand suns. The surrounding walls, floors, and ceiling began to vibrate intensely as the pontite crystals began to propagate the Song, an earthquake shaking the hive-spire. Waves of pure energy washed over all present, healing Ken, Jorya, and myself while hammering against Mellichae, propelling him against the wall, knocking him insensate. All of my pain, all of my injuries were entirely healed; Jorya’s broken leg, lacerations, and bruises completely restored.

And still Karm Sang.

And even as I watched, Ken’s chest reformed itself to its natural state, the skin, muscle, and organs regenerating completely as if nothing had occurred. And, slowly, his arm began to grow back, first from the shoulder…and then his bicep and tricep…and then his elbow. And all the while, Karm began to shine as brilliantly as the Rur crystal, his sonorous baritone reverberating throughout the chamber, as strong and as bright as a star during noon, growing ever greater, wonderful, and more powerful.

The abruptness of the silence was deafening. Karm’s Singing went from a rising crescendo to absolute stillness. He looked at Ken, the look on his face one of absolute joy…until his eyes rolled up into his head. And before I could react, the taller man collapsed, his lightsaber rebounding on the floor, coming to rest in the shadows. Jorya and I ran up to Karm, examining him as we both opened ourselves to healing flows of the Force. His pulse was slow but stable. But try as we might, neither of us could revive Karm.

He was in a deep coma.

“Dad…Ken?” Jorya reminded me tentatively, looking at the teidowan. I approached Ken’s body and knelt down, rolling him over. The sight that met me was…wonderful. Of the chest wound, there was no sign of it. And Ken’s arm had…grown back. Well, much of it; his arm ended in a stump just past his elbow. Still, considering the injuries he’d sustained… Ken’s chest rose and fell with the regularity of peaceful sleep, his pulse strong and steady.

Thank the Maker… I thought, smiling. And Karm…

Looking around, my eyes fixed upon the Rur crystal. Or rather, the thousands of shard pieces. It must have shattered as a result of…whatever Karm did. And lying prone and motionless—but alive—was Mellichae. Gabbing my lightsaber I ignited it. I would correct a mistake that I’d made, one that I regretted profusely. Slowly, I walked over towards him…

“How different you’ve become, Zearic.” The voice behind me had the mechanical quality of a droid. Turning, I faced Mendax as he approached, dust and small rocks covering his armor, his saber hilt in hand. I grabbed my shoto and ignited it as well. Mendax slowed to a halt, his body language seemingly unconcerned.

Whispering to Jorya, I hastily spoke, “Get Ken and Karm out of here and back to Fenris’ Dirge, fast as you can. Find your Mother. Now, apprentice.” The last I said more harshly than I intended but I wanted them all out of danger. Hurriedly, Jorya got the Mak’Tor Jedi out of harm’s way using the Force.

Facing the black and gray mask, I squared up against the taller man. “How would you know, Mendax?” I adopted a ready stance in Juyo, again preparing my Water Forms.

“I know…because…I know you.” And he ignited his saber.

An orange blade sprang into existence.

Stunned, I almost lowered my defenses. “…Gaetana? How…you…you’re dead…” Even as I asked the question, she attacked. Automatically, I flowed into my defense, intercepting her brutal attacks, her blade probing, searching, trying to force any advantage. She found none. I knew that I’d bettered my saberwork exponentially since I’d last seen her; she followed a quick strike with a savage cut that I barely had time to parry. But before I could take advantage, her blade was moving again.

But if I had improved, so too had Gaetana. Even as a Jar’Kai practitioner, I was pressed in matching her single bladed combat. Still, I focused on my Water Forms, the ebb and flow as we circled each other, attacking, defending, always moving. Even as she struck my shoulder, my pauldron absorbed the worst of the blow, the Charubah plate holding. Better still, it had helped to create an opening. Before she could recover, my shoto cut through the armor at her leg, piercing the black plate. Using my momentum, I brought the blue blade of my main saber in a swift overhead cut connecting with her helmet.

Instantly, my lightsaber deactivated.

I could hear Gaetana’s laughter as I desperately tried to recover, my shoto at a disadvantage compared to her full-length blade. Her helmet is made of cortosis?! I thought. I also noticed that the cut on her leg didn’t impede her in the least. Knowing that my main lightsaber would not work for several minutes, I tried to delay.

Before I could react, Gaetana’s fingers splayed apart, dropping her lightsaber and simultaneously projecting a torrent of Force Lightning at me. Normally, I would be able to block it with my blade, but my shoto was too short to effectively intercept it. Even as the lightning coursed through my face, Gaetana pulled with her other hand upon a large stack of compartmented storage boxes. Before I could completely clear the falling metal containers, several pinned my legs against the floor, my shoto knocked from my hand and buried beneath some other cases. As soon as I couldn’t move my legs, Gaetana’s full lightning barrage hit me, overwhelming my armor, surging into my body. Between lightning strikes, I attempted to grab at the black dagger in my belt holster.

It was empty.

I must have lost it when the compartments had fallen upon me. Looking around, I spied it several meters away from me, but then another onslaught of lightning ripped through my body. As my muscles seized, micro-tears forming, I could not focus upon anything except the pain. Without stopping, Gaetana kept up her lightning assault even as my screams stopped, not from a loss of consciousness but from lack of breath.

Barely holding onto cognizance, my eyes lost focus as I attempted to follow Gaetana as she walked towards me. Clearly, she’d learned a valuable lesson from our first encounter: she stopped short several meters. “I have waited years for this.”

Slurring my speech, my jowl muscles locked forcing a rictus grin upon my face, I spoke, “You are the only one to blame, Gaetana.” I hoped that she understood my words. “But why now when you had escaped, ‘Mendax?’”

“That damned earthquake nearly brought the hive-spire down upon me. But it did block my route of escape.” She paused briefly. “But now since your Singer is no longer a concern, I need not fear reprisals from a superior opponent.” I could feel her rage even now despite the mask, her voice quivered with anger. “You were right: Gaetana died that day on Byss. Lord Vader himself saved me…but not without…consequences. And from that day forth, there was only Darth Mendax.” She let loose a potent onslaught of Force Lightning, not once letting up while she spoke this time. “And it is Darth Mendax that kills you now, Zearic.” And to emphasize her point, her Lightning only intensified. My existence was agony, pain without measure. Curling into a fetal position, or as close as my armor would allow, I waited…hoped…solicited that death would take me…

Incredibly, I had not shut my eyes. I saw Mendax suddenly fly bodily away, crashing into the far wall, stone and detritus falling around her as she collapsed to the ground, her helmet flying off. Pivoting my head, deliberately, carefully, I saw D’Aylanna swiftly approaching, her lightsaber on her belt. “Shakal…shh, husband, mine. I am here.” Her quiet words were softly emphasized by the gentle stroking of her hands upon my face. But I saw her face grow serious again and she stood. “So. You are ‘Mendax.’ Gaetana.”

Standing, Mendax towered over my wife. Dusting herself off as she walked forward, Mendax stepped into the light. The once beautiful face was terrible to behold: her skin was gray, what little hair she had was white and unkempt. Her left eye was a mechanical replacement, not even cybernetic. And her face belonged to that of a decrepit, old woman. “Yes, D’Aylanna. I am Mendax. And your doom.”

Quicker than my eyes could see, she raised both of her hands, Force Lightning cascading from her fingers towards my wife, the blue electrical cloud lethally surging at D’Aylanna. Unconcerned, my wife raised both of her hands, accumulating Gaetana’s—Mendax’s—Lightning and absorbing it with tutaminis. Mendax’s face fell, her disbelieving look painted across her features.

“…How…?” Mendax’s mechanized voice was alarmed.

Igniting her saber, purple blade casting righteous light upon Mendax’s face, D’Aylanna attacked. I had practiced with my wife for years, especially after Gaetana had first wounded me. But never had I seen her this…savage. Her purple blade struck so fast, it created a virtual haze obfuscating her person, always attacking, searching, and striking home. As the minutes passed, D’Aylanna had scored several cuts against Mendax, most on her legs. As before, they seemed negligible.

But even as D’Aylanna’s mastery was evident, so too was Mendax’s. She countered my wife’s offensive with a series of brutal saber strikes, one cut almost decapitating D’Aylanna. Thankfully, she parried in the last moment. And almost simultaneously, both women flew back from one another, both having delivered a powerful Force Push upon the other. D’Aylanna backflipped, gracefully landing on one knee while Mendax plowed through another stack of metal containers, skidding to a halt along the floor. Even in pain, I could tell from the look on Mendax’s face that she was afraid, as scared as she had been of Karm. She looked around the room, her eyes belonging to prey cornered by an apex predator. But D’Aylanna did not relent; she was upon Mendax again, working her lightsaber blade, purple against orange. It was truly a meeting of masters.

Both women locked their sabers together, Mendax’s much taller stature seemingly smaller despite my wife’s diminutive frame. Suddenly, D’Aylanna launched upwards, head-butting Mendax, blood flowing from her broken nose. Moreover, it stunned her. With a scything swing, D’Aylanna separated Mendax’s right arm from her body. And in the next orbit, she bisected her left leg just below the hip. Before Mendax had even fallen, D’Aylanna’s Force Push sent her crashing against and through the far wall, causing the far room to cave in. Even as D’Aylanna ran forward, she must have known that there was nothing that she could do. As she stared, the far side of the hive-spire collapsed, weakened from the earthquake that Karm had caused earlier. Turning, my wife ran towards me, never once looking back.

“My Shakal…” The love and concern in her voice warmed my heart as she collected me in her arms, healing flows from the Force embracing me. “…Are you OK?” Her voice cracked as a single tear flowed down from her dark eye, across her cheek and upon her blue lips.

I did not even attempt to rise, not that I could. “I will be, Ereneda, I will be…” Gently she rocked me until Jorya returned, our daughter both relieved and dismayed by what she saw had happened to me…

<<<<< >>>>>

Mellichae woke to the sound of screams, his ice-blue eyes quickly surveying his surroundings. The rocky antechamber had strewn about it several large metal containers, two of them crushing the big man’s legs and effectively pinning him against the ground. Knowing that he was hidden from view by one of the larger containers, he had the perfect vantage to see the big man writhing in pain as Force Lightning engulfed him, his Master pitiless in judgment. His Master. He couldn’t be sure…but something felt…different. As if his mind were no longer…constrained. Could it be…? Could Lord Mendax’s tether have been…broken? He knew that Jennira was dead; he no longer felt her within. But his Master as well…?

A flash caught his eye, the Lightning from his Master reflecting off of a silver surface in the shadows. Crawling over, it looked like…a lightsaber. Wait…it was that Singer’s! With as much facility as he could, he opened the weapon, specifically the housing for the crystal. And there, he saw, was a true treasure: a golden kyber crystal unlike any he’d ever seen. Greedily, he grabbed it when something else glinted within the shadows. It was a shard of the Rur crystal, he was sure. Momentarily, his breath stopped. Singing ever so quietly, he saw the glow within the crystal shard as it propagated. Mellichae hurriedly pocketed it, closing the lightsaber and placing it on the ground near where he’d found it. Again, carefully looking around the corner of the container, he could see his Master in furious combat with a petite Hapan woman. Incredibly, the woman was superior to his Master. Not waiting to learn anymore, Mellichae carefully worked his way further in the hive-spire where his ship was docked.

Boarding on shaky legs, the large Zabrak hurriedly went through preflight and rocketed off the planet surface. Achieving escape velocity, his ship entered into the Geonosian stratosphere and, finally, outer space.

As the Sith Infiltrator made the jump to lightspeed in a flurry of pseudomotion, three things went through Mellichae’s mind. First, he no longer was a thrall, not to Jennira and not to Mendax. Next, he would get revenge upon those Gray Jedi. And finally, he now had not one but two potent crystals beyond compare to do with as he chose.

Mellichae smiled, his memory lingering on killing…well, almost…that Jedi welp. The next time that they met things would be much different. And he thought of the name that the big man had said. A name that both filled him with hatred as well as dread. One that Mellichae would use in his personal litany to forever remind him of the price of his failures. And the realization of his vengeance.

“Karmak.”

For continuity's sake, I've reposted Karm's final chapter as (first part of) the finale. Yep, I had to steal his idea again since it was so good ;) Please enjoy ;D
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Chapter 15: Cadence Point

The Wayfarer settled gently onto the wide landing pad under Ken’s steady hand. I felt the ship rock ever so slightly as the Fenris’ Dirge settled next to us. I looked over at Arnor and grinned. She smiled back from the tactical station, a tired smile still filled with too much pain, but there was a hint of her normal sparkle in her eyes.

It was good to be home. Especially when you’ve gone through hell to get there…

My body reminded me of just how hard that journey had been when I rose. Even now, after a journey home which had taken several weeks thanks to the torturous routes around the Outer Rim as well as Wayfarer’s damage, my legs were unsteady and my body wracked with the fiery after-effects of the energy that I had unleashed. Arnor was better – and worse. The Bacta had done wonders on her body, aided by the auto-doc built into the medical bay as well as Ken’s healing songs. Unfortunately Arnor had been out of range of the massive pulse that had healed Ken. She still had some residual healing to do, but the real damage was internal. She’d been brutally savaged by the Storm Troopers, stripped and beaten nearly to death. She’d had broken ribs, a broken femur, dislocated shoulder and elbow and her right cheek had been crushed along with a blow that had cracked her skull. But far worse was the fact that, in my effort to save her life, I had poured healing energy into her, which had prevented her from falling unconscious.

I’d forced my wife to endure every painful moment of her horrific beating … to save her life, to be sure, but the cost…

A tear trickled down my cheek as Arnor sensed my emotions and turned. She reached out and wiped the tear away, laying her wet finger on my lips. “Shhh… None of that, dearest. You saved us all. The pain is just part of the journey.”

I wiped the unshed tears from her eyes and managed a smile in return. “Yes, I know. But it still hurts…” I let my hand fall to the empty place on my belt where my saber with the Ancient One usually rode.

Sometimes it hurts a lot…

I pulled Arnor close into a fierce hug. “Thank you, my love.”

Behind us Ken cleared his throat. “Landing post-check completed. Mutt is cracking the hatch. Are you two ready to debark?” Ken’s playful poke at our PDA was another familiar touch-stone, and like the rest it was also now slightly muted. Ken’s right hand was gone, but the fully-healed stump had easily accepted the cybernetic implants needed for a more complete version of the glove I still wore. It was perhaps a sad commentary on our Order that our medical bays carried such cybernetics routinely.

It’s called being prepared…

I chuckled, at the thought as well as the look of long-suffering pain Ken had affected to cover the amused warmth I felt from him. “Of course, Teidowan.” I reached back to my station and retrieved a memory crystal with Two’s “bootstrap” download on it and slipped it into my pocket as I followed Arnor down the ramp. His body had been destroyed again, but with his core memories and programming intact all I needed to do was build him a new one. I’d already decided on a few new … refinements … to the basic R2 chassis to incorporate as well. Two always complained about changes, but in this case I didn’t think he’d mind.

After all, everyone loves having a lightsaber, right?

I was chuckling slightly as we reached the bottom of the ramp, imagining Two swinging a saber around. OK, maybe not the best idea after all… I saw a matching smile on Zearic’s face as he cleared the ramp from his own ship. Even out of armor, he was a big man, bigger even than I was, and his need to scrunch down to clear the overhead on the ship’s ramp obviously triggered some humorous memory of his own. “Master Zearic, welcome back to M’Tzigon.”

I extended my hand and Zearic grasped it, eschewing the hand-shake and pulling me into a bear-hug. “And welcome home, Master Karmack!”

I gasped slightly as he let me go, mentally counting ribs and avoiding a flinch of pain only with effort. “Um, thank you, Zearic.” Mistess DAylanna, welcome. Zorya, welcome.” I bowed to each as they emerged behind the exuberant Zearic. “It appears we’ve been expected.” I gestured toward a small group of officials headed by Kage Silman standing at the edge of the pad. “Shall we?”

“Certainly.” D’Aylanna replied, her bearing regal. Arnor fell in beside her as we fell into pairs – D’Aylanna and Arnor, Ken and Jorya, and myself with Zearic. Something in the song nudged me… Ken’s melody and Zorya’s, suddenly becoming entwined. Well, now that is interesting…

I felt a ripple from Zearic and I turned a raised eyebrow to him. “Thoughts?”

Zearic had felt it as well, in his own sense of the force or parental intuition. “Tell Ken to buckle up, he’s in for a wild ride.”

I chuckled again. “More than they know. Kage Silman transmitted a few days ago that the Council has decided to offer Ken the Trails.” I chuckled. “Seems his performance on this mission impressed more than just his parents.”

“I am not surprised. The same offer will likely be forthcoming for Zorya from our own Council.” Zearic looked worried, the worry any father would have for a daughter headed out into a dangerous world on her own. “I am proud, but…”

“Worried.” I finished for him. “I as well. He’s ready, but…”

“…are any of us ever really ready? I certainly was not.” Zearic stopped walking, allowing the gap between us and the others to open a bit. “I wanted to apologize for…” His eyes dropped to the empty place on my belt.

“My friend.” I laid my hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “There is no need.” I leaned closer, lowering my own voice. “The Ancient One is in the Song. I can feel it still. The Zabrek will get nothing from it. It only shares it’s secrets willingly. Meanwhile, everywhere he turns he will find himself vexed and foiled until I am ready to take back what is mine. Nor will I have forgotten what he did … and tried to do.”

A dangerous light flickered through Zearic’s eyes. “Excellent. If I can be of any assistance…”

My own smile was also dangerous. The smile of a predator. “I will not hesitate to call.” Again I extended my hand, and this time he took it shook. The bond was made: Mellichae would face justice.

But first… I looked back for a moment, watching crews begin the process of unloading the pontite we’d recovered. It was still dangerous and would be carefully dispersed and hidden over the next few months and years. Most of the shards of the Ruh Crystal ahd also been recovered, but not all. Another mystery to track down. After the reception.

I sighed and we turned back to the awaiting welcoming committee, following our wives into the fray…

I realized after reading Karm's excellent finale that I had accidentally left out some crucial details that I'd meant to include. So, here is the last part of "Shadow Etude." Special thanks again to Karm :)
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Epilogue

“Maenowan Zearic? Master D’Aylanna is waiting in the salon for you.” The Gray Singer’s smile was youthful, respectful, and congenial. By the Maker, he’s young… I thought.

“Thank you, Singer.” I nodded respectfully, smiling both outwardly and inwardly: I had taken advantage of our convalescence on M’Tzigon, specifically, their Singers. After what I’d suffered at Jennira’s and then Mendax’s hands, I was in rough shape. Even with the bacta treatments in the intervening weeks as we slowly made our way from Geonosis back to M’Tzigon, I had still suffered neuropathy and electrical burns from Lightning, a few ruptured organs from the Dark Singer, and both of my legs crushed besides. Thank the Maker that we just happened to make planetfall to a home full of Singers…

Slowly walking to the waiting area, I passed through a beautiful garden of tall bluegrasses, violet petal flowers, and trees that were organically incorporated within the walls, creating a gorgeous tableau that seamlessly combined nature with the structures of the Mak’Tor.

“The fauna are Sung trees.” The Singer said by way of explanation. “That is how we are able to join both structure and landscape to create a unique and beautiful environment.” Again the Singer’s smile was…angelic.

I nodded. “I have never seen a more exquisite ecosystem.” I meant it. I could see why the Mak’Tor had chosen M’Tzigon to settle on. Arnor had told me a little of the story concerning the Mak’Tor Expulsion from Coruscant during the administration of Grand Master Kimer. I shook my head thinking of the serendipity of being forced to leave…and to finally emigrate here. I realized that I had stopped to look at the crimson red fruit of a vibrant yellow tree that stood amidst a gently flowing stream that then flowed under the transparisteel floor, the sapphire blue waters glowing from some bioluminescence. Patiently, the Singer waited, the smile never leaving his face and eyes.

“Sorry.” I said somewhat sheepishly. Again, I was transported back to my childhood where the only colors that I knew were dull browns and grays, tints and shades. Color meant power which meant credits which I had little of, learning at a young age that I had to fend for myself. Shaking my head as if to dispose of the morose thoughts, I fell into step next to the Singer.

“It’s OK, maenowan. Besides: any friend of Master Karmack is always welcome. Ah, here’s Master D’Aylanna.” Bowing low to my wife and then giving me a affable nod, the Singer left us. Flowing towards me, D’Aylanna effortlessly put her arm through mine and around my waist. Or rather, as far as her petite arm would go. Even with her heeled boots, her head barely came to my neck. Yet, she was comforting me.

“Shakal, it warms my heart to see you looking much improved.” Looking up into my eyes, she stood on her tip-toes to give me a full, lingering kiss. “Yes. Much improved.” She said playfully, a mischievous set to her blue lips. But just underneath, I could sense through the Force that she was still worried.

A relaxed grin spread across my face. “I am, Ereneda. But the Singers insist that I must now get a full night’s sleep to have the most effect.” Slowly, with her head upon my upper arm, we exited the Singer’s Atrium. “Have you seen Jorya? I thought she’d be with you…”

I could sense a fundamental shift in my wife’s manner. “She is…spending time with Master Chillum.” She stopped, halting me as she did so. Looking into my eyes, her demeanor was stoic. “Shakal, I believe that our daughter is…afraid. Not for herself…but for you. And me. And Master Karmack, Arnor, Ken.” She emphasized the last name. Not surprising given what had occurred. Not for the first time, I was grateful that Karm had been there…

I was silent, contemplative. Then, gently, I began to lead D’Aylanna to our apartments. “I understand, Ereneda. I’ll talk with her…” Even as my body had healed, my heart ached with fear, with hurt, with worry. Somehow, I would help Jorya.

Somehow.

            <<<<< >>>>>

The stifling waves washed over us, D’Aylanna and I. Even as we stood tall against it, it took all of our willpower to do so. Even as we attempted to communicate to one another, our screams were drown out amidst the torrent that assaulted us.

Panicked, I desperately looked around searching for Jorya. She was nowhere to be found. Evidently, D’Aylanna had noticed as well, but even as she attempted to tell me, she pointed beyond me, a look of disbelief upon her face. Reflexively, we ignited our lightsabers virtually in unison.

Turning to confront the figure, it was—as always—in the darkest shadow amidst a backdrop of blinding light. But…something felt different. Even as I fell into my Water Forms, I knew—knew—that it was ineffectual, futile.

The figure loomed large, slowly, inexorably approaching us, D’Aylanna in front of me. NO! Before the figure could reach her, I insinuated myself between him and my wife. The light dimmed, absorbed by the figure… I squinted my eyes, realizing that I was…familiar with the figure.

And finally, the dark figure stood close enough for me to make out details. It was a tall, pale-faced Night Sister with black patches decorating her face, her white eyes surrounded by black sclera. The figure took another step. The face…changed. Sucking in my breath, I recognized the visage before me. “Jennira…?!” I whispered, a booming, seething sound. Smiling at my recognition, the witch’s countenance became even more malevolent, her eyes…cloudy, surging as if a tempest. But even as I stared, her eyes distorted, her face…transforming.

And with speed defying description, faster than even my Force-enhanced senses could perceive, the Night Sister was upon me, her midnight black sword thrusting forward, piercing flesh, bone, heart, and spine. I felt the quillions of the sword upon my stomach, the blade exploding out my back as I fought for breath.

And we stood face-to-face, the witch and I, staring into one another’s eyes. But I no longer was looking at Jennira. The witch’s face had become more ruddy, taking on an orange hue, her eyes turning to the most intense blue, her black lips becoming red. Astonished, I was at a loss to act. The lips smiled, a fiercely cruel set on a face that I knew almost as well as D’Aylanna’s, as well as my own. Twisting her sword, she pulled it from my body, blood fountaining from the ghastly wound in my stomach. And despite the pain, I could only think of one thing: why?

It was Jorya’s face that looked down upon me as I lay dying…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Waking from the nightmare, I inhaled deeply, the ghost of pain still felt in my abdomen. And looking to where I knew it would be, the naked dagger lay upon the shelf that I’d stowed my clothes and equipment into. And this time, I knew that I’d placed the black stone knife under my clothes within the drawer. Breaking out in gooseflesh despite the relative warmth of the night, I collected myself. Slowly, calmly so as not to disturb my sleeping wife, I rose from the bed and walked out into the night air onto the adjoining veranda from our bedroom. The temperate weather of M’Tzigon’s nights felt refreshing, the gentle breeze caressing my shirtless, hairy chest. Looking down, I noticed a new scar that I’d received from Mendax’s Lightning barrage upon my chest, the burnt skin still tender.

And yet…all I could think about was Jorya. What could the dream portend? And why did the dagger influence me in such a way? These answers eluded me, which made me think of my failures.

Lowering my head, I felt the shame rise anew as I thought of my most recent failure: losing the Ancient One. True, I was not responsible but…I should have done more.

“Shakal.” D’Aylanna’s quiet voice came from behind me. “Come back to bed.” I felt her arms around my waist, her face upon my back. Turning, I enveloped her in my arms.

“I will, Ereneda. It’s just that—” Before I could continue, D’Aylanna placed her slender finger gently upon my lips.

“Shhh. It can wait until morning, Shakal. Come.” And leading me back into the apartments, her bare feet made no noise. And I soon found sleep once more, this time without any troubles.

            <<<<< >>>>>

The ship had been hiding behind one of the larger asteroids in Geonosian orbit when the two craft left the surface. And although they’d attempted to follow, it was clear that the two ships were not in any rush. So as not to risk discovery, the pursuers decided to break off the chase for the first time since they’d acquired a lock around Bar’leth. Besides, they now had confirmation of what they’d been searching for.

“You were lucky that you did not run into her on the surface. She would have immolated you the instant she saw you.” The pilot said to his companion as she slid into the seat next to him. “Were you at least able to get a genetic marker for proof?”

Unhurriedly, the woman ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes staring straight into her companions. He blushed, lowering his eyes, muttering apologetic noises. Meanwhile, the woman’s eyes never once waivered. After she felt that he had been suitably castigated, she spoke, a regal bearing evident in her voice. “Of course. I would not have left the surface had I not secured my objective.” And in her hand, she held up a datapad with a digitized double-helix upon the screen. “It’s her, alright.”

Her companion smiled, a bare curling of his lips. “Should I break comm-silence?”

Intent upon the datapad, the woman spoke, slowly, deliberately. “Yes. Tell her that we’ve finally found the Marquesa.” As she spoke, her eyes changed, hardening. “And confirm the order for liquidation.”

Once uttering her final command, the woman left the pilot, heading back to her private quarters. All the while focused on one thought. Assassinations were commonplace; after all, it was only the strong that survived.

And without malice, she asked herself: Just how strong are you, D’Aylanna Vih’Torr?

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THE END

Saber Forum

General Chat => Fan Fiction and Art => Topic started by: TheDutchman on November 03, 2017, 06:30:53 PM