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?*****************************************************************************************************************