StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Empress Leia Organa Solo stood at the center of the bridge of the Shade, watching the passing tunnel of hyperspace. By outward appearance, she was an unmoving monument to strength and determination. Inside, her heart was pounding with a fury that threatened to split her chest open. She opened her mouth to say words she never would have imagined could have come from her throat. "Captain," she said in a crisp voice, "prepare the superlaser to fire the moment we emerge from hyperspace."

The Shade's captain nodded, then relayed it to his XO to carry out. There was no need for anyone else's approval, no one to second guess her. She said to destroy an entire planet, and an entire planet would be destroyed. That kind of power was frightening to wield; what terrified her more was that one day it wouldn't. Destroying a world would be routine for her, and when that happened, would she be able to give it up? There was no more time to think about it, though; she'd brought the Shade out here to deal a blow against the Vong. If she turned back now, it would be a sign of weakness before the military leadership, and they might consider taking matters into their own hands.

The Shade and a twenty-two star destroyer escort emerged from hyperspace inside the Provag system. The Vong had increased their fleet presence, but not enough. The word probably hadn't reached them that the Empire wasn't playing by the same old rules. The officers went about their work, but Leia didn't hear any of it. There was just the sign of Vong forces, there to defend a Vong planet, a planet she was going to destroy. There were no innocent bystanders amongst the Vong; it was like fighting the Borg in that regard. Everyone was part of the military in some fashion, everyone was devoted to the cause, and every resources was devoted to their war effort. There was no collateral damage when you fought the Vong, except against your own people amongst them. It didn't offer her as much comfort as she'd hoped.

"Empress," the captain said to her, jerking her back to the task at hand. "We have a firing solution."

Leia nodded. The planet was a distant dot from this range... not like Alderaan. It was nothing like Alderaan. Alderaan was peaceful, and beautiful, and home to a culture whose richness was known across the galaxy. This was just some empty world the Vong terraformed. It was here only to serve the cause of war, to try to destroy her people. It had consumed her son... yes, she focused on that thought. Jacen, lying on his pyre, dead because of this world. "Fire," she said, startled at how easily the word came out. Green energy lanced from the distant tip of the ship through space. It hit the small dot, which glowed for a moment, then was gone. It was so simple, so quick... had Tarkin gotten up close to Alderaan just to make for a better show? Probably, given his reputation for sadism.

"Target destroyed, empress," the captain reported. "Should we withdraw?"

"No, captain," Leia said. "We have the Vong confused. Let's mop these Vong up first before we proceed."

The captain tried to hide a smile; finally, they were fighting like they were the Empire again. "Yes, empress," he said emphatically and returned to conduct the battle. Leia watched distantly, reflecting on what had just happened, what she had just done. It was over, and she was glad for it, because it had to be done. Now all she could have were regrets, not second guesses, not refusal. Every time she started to feel guilt, she remembered Jacen, and the feeling went away.

Beyond the window a Vong coralship exploded under fire from the Shade. For some reason the sight made her smile.
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The Oracle was talking to Garak again when Ben Skywalker exited his quarters. He waited with his usual impatience while they finished; the Oracle cut the transmission. "What was that about?" he demanded.

"Just addressing a security issue, my lord," she replied.

"What security issue?" he asked again, letting his teeth show.

"It's nothing to be concerned about, my lord," the Oracle replied. "Just a detail or two. I thought you were more interested in the Jedi."

Ben brooded, but she was right about where his interest lay, and there wasn't really anything he needed to worry about from her. "Leia Solo," he said. "She's the only real threat left. You think you know everything, so tell me; where do I go, so I may kill her?"

"She's Empress now," the Oracle replied. "It would be exceedingly difficult to reach her now."

"I don't care about difficult," Ben said irritably.

"Of course, my lord. But if I may, there is a simple way to deal with her."

"How?"

"She already wants to face you. Let her seek you out, and you can dispose of her as you like."

"I grow tired of waiting-" Ben began.

"Respectfully, lord, this will not take long. You merely have to show yourself, and she will come to you." She held up a datapad. "May I suggest this?"

Ben yanked it from her grip and looked it over, and despite himself a smile slowly crossed his face. "Yes," he said slowly, "I had almost forgotten. Did Alixus heed our warnings?"

"Yes, it is proceeding as I have foreseen it. If you depart now, my lord, you will have time to deal with him and attract the interest of the Empress."

"Very good," he said, and returned to his quarters to prepare himself. As he did he took note of his trophy display. Two already there, and soon he would add Leia Organa Solo's and Sebastian Skywalker's.
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Finding Thorim Glesser on Trodendt proved easy; persuading her to talk was less so. Her will was too strong to manipulate, and Sebastian had a tough time looking the other way when Gorren used his persuasive talents on females. Perhaps it was chauvinism, but Gorren had learned to adopt a different technique in such cases. At the moment, he had a chair and was using it to smash up some equipment. Kilana watched with obvious distaste.

“Thorim,” he mused as he worked. “That doesn’t sound like a Twi’lek name,” he remarked.

“It’s probably an alias,” Sebastian remarked as he held the white-skinned Twi’lek still while Gorren did his work. “It is, isn’t it?” he asked.

“[You will pay for this!]” the woman snarled at him. “[I can destroy your lives!]”

“Indeed,” Sebastian said. “Gorren, I think you missed a spot.”

“Ah, thank you,” the Klingon replied, smashing up another display, causing an angry torrent of Huttese profanity. He paused in his work. “Hello,” he said. “What’s this?” He worked a small bit of the wall material until it all fell away in a neat section, revealing a wallsafe. “If I were a slicer, I’d hide my dealings in something like this.”

“So would I,” Sebastian remarked. “Will you open it, or will we?”

“[You can’t,]” she replied. “[It’s set up so that an energy weapon or tool will erase the data. Unless you can cut through it with physical tools, you’re stuck.]”

“We’ll destroy the rest of your equipment if you don’t open it,” Sebastian said.

“[I’ll get more.]”

As the argument was about to heat up, Kilana stepped forward. “Wait,” she said. “Let me.” She looked down and closed her eyes. She seemed to slowly raise her head, as if taking a deep breath. As she did so, a glowing ball of white light seemed to emerge from her chest and rise up to neck height. It lashed out and hit the wallsafe, blowing the door open. She took another deep breath, then was aware that everyone was staring at her. “Some of my people are allowed telekinetic abilities,” she said. “A gift from the Founders.”

“Speaking of gifts,” Gorren said with a menacing grin. Klingons were quite good at menacing grins. “I think we have quite a selection here.”

“We want all your data from Dem Roz,” Sebastian said. “You can give us the right one, or we can just take them all. It’s your choice.” Thorim glowered, then reached out for them. Gorren glanced at Sebastian, who nodded to him, and he handed them over to her. She flipped through, then handed it over. Gorren looked through it a moment, then gave it to Sebastian. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Sebastian remarked. They left the cursing Twi’lek behind as they walked out onto the streets of Trodendt.
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Anakin Solo, Jedi knight, led the way through the cavern, quickly followed by Laudica Reshad, his apprentice for the moment. He held a small glowstick, but in the reflective walls of the cavern it was more than enough. Laudica shivered as they walked, and it wasn't because of the cold of Ilum. "This place feels strange," she said, constantly looking around her. "I feel comfortable in some ways... and yet, I feel like I'm walking through a cemetary."

"Ilum is sacred ground for the Jedi order," Anakin said, not turning back. "Tens of thousands of Jedi have walked this path. The place remembers..." He continued through a small opening in the wall into another cavern.

"Come on," Laudica said. "You're just trying to give me the willies."

Corellian bravado; Anakin knew it well. She was spirited, and somewhat questioning of their teachings, but so what? Knowledge and wisdom was at the core of the Jedi's purpose, parts of their philosophy from before they had taken an active role in the galaxy. So long as she evaded the dark side's lure her challenges were a sign of healthy thought. Anakin stopped. "Close your eyes," he said. She stopped and put one hand on her hip at his behavior, but Anakin's expression was more than enough. As if humoring him, she sighed and closed her eyes. "Stretch out with your feelings," he said, then waited a moment. "Open up your mind, Laudica, and-" He stopped talking as he heard her gave a deep suction sound as if just struck in the solar plexus.

"Someone's watching me!" she said, looking around at the walls as if they were going to come to life any second.

"Calm yourself," he said. "You're safe." She continued her panicked searching. "The presence you sense is the impression of past Jedi."

"Yeah, well whatever it is I don't like it," she said with sharpness and fear in her tone.

"You're going to have to get used to it," Anakin said as kindly as possible. "Your senses are going to grow more acute as your knowledge of the Force grows. Come," he reached out to lead her by the hand, but she shrunk away. "It's all right," he said.

"No!" she said, "it's not all right!"

"This is still new and frightening to you," Anakin said. "But you have to trust me. Here, feel my peace... share in it." He reached out his mind towards her; at first she shrunk away, then slowly he could feel her start to accept it. "Good... like passing flame from torch to torch, let the peace come to you and fill you with comfort." Her movement was so quick he was caught off guard, but suddenly he felt her lips on his. Almost as suddenly as it came she pulled back in horror and slapped him across the face.

"What did you just do to me?" she demanded.

"What?" Anakin replied, rubbing the stinging red spot on his cheek.

"You did something to me just now," she said, her voice saturated with accusation. "You made me do that."

Anakin gave her a look. "You obviously just-"

"I'm not going to listen to your excuses," she shot back. "I should have known from the beginning. You set this up, didn't you."

"I set this up so I could cross half the galaxy just to kiss you?" Anakin replied. "Don't flatter yourself."

"You bastard," she replied with a voice that could cut diamonds. She tried slapping him again, but he caught the limb this time and held it, staring into her eyes to see the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She kissed him again, then pulled away and slapped him on the other side of the face with her free hand.

"Would you stop that!" Anakin said at the end of his rope.

"You are a disgusting pig," she said.

"And you are psychotic," Anakin said. "And I've had it. I'm going to go get the crystals, you can stay here and argue with the shadows." He turned to leave, but she grabbed his shoulder and twisted him back. In one movement she stepped into him, kissing him passionately as she knocked him over backwards. As he lay back in shock, the passion in her mind was the emotional equivalent of a siren, and he found himself reciprocating. As she fumbled for her coat, however, he pushed her away. "No," he said, though it was hard to get the word out of his mouth, which seemed to disapprove of the conclusion the brain had reached. "Let me take you back to the ship."

"We don't need the ship," she answered coyly.

"I'm taking you back to the ship," Anakin said, now in a better position to resist the thoughts, at least emotionally. Physically it was a great position to indulge them. "I'll finish the mission alone, okay." He got up.

Laudica's lust soon crumbled leaving resentment and anger in its wake. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" she said barely below a shout. "You having fun with me?"

"No, it's-" She tried slapping him again, but he knew now, and he blocked both slaps easily. "Would you just-" His voice turned to a squeak as she drove her knee into his lightsaber crystals.

"And don't think of trying that crap on me again," she said with a look of evil satisfaction. It vanished as Anakin straightened up.

Anakin's cybernetic arm snapped out and caught her shoulder, whirled her around, and picked her up so she was standing on her toes. "To the ship," he said in a voice like a rumble along a fault line. He half-led, half-dragged her back to the ship. Given her behavior, he locked the helm with his security code so she couldn't leave him stranded here. "I'll be back," he told her, his words managing to convey the additional message "and you'd better not think of leaving." Laudica said nothing as she flopped into a flight chair and watched him with unhidden malice as he exited the ship.
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Sebastian was scanning through the data while they walked, his eidetic memory storing away details for later contemplation. Half way through he lowered the list, and started thinking. "Han and Julian could probably use this to," he mused to Gorren.

"They haven't had much success tracking down the cure for this disease," Gorren said. "Any lead may be of help."

Sebastian nodded. "Gorren, would you stop at a public terminal and find out if Han wants to rendezvous with us somewhere? I don't want to just broadcast the data over the holonet."

Gorren responded with a nod of his own. "You'll be at the Raven?" he asked. Sebastian answered in the affirmative and Gorren parted ways for the moment. Kilana didn't seem as pleased.

"You said you would take me to the Founder once our work here was completed," she said.

"I will," Sebastian said. "But this data is important-"

"So is my getting to the Founder," she interrupted. "Your concerns are secondary."

"My concerns are for stopping an incurable disease that's crossing the galaxy and preventing the Vong from wiping out our people."

"The Founder will know how to solve these problems," Kilana said confidently.

"Kilana, I've known the Founder, and I can tell you that he doesn't." He turned and he could see the anger in her eyes at his remark. "Something wrong?"

"Yes," she replied coldly, "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"Look, the Falcon is coming from Chandrilla towards the wormhole," Sebastian pointed out. "We wouldn't be going out of our way to meet with him. After that, no more delays, okay?"

Kilana seemed to struggle with it for a moment, then eventually said, "Fine. But I will hold you to that."

"Don't worry," Sebastian said as they reached the docking bay. They sat on a bench and waited. A few minutes later their Klingon companion arrived.

"I made contact with the Millennium Falcon," Gorren said, trying to suppress a grin. "Solo suggested that we rendezvous with him at Wormhole Station." He gave a deep belly laugh and hit Sebastian on the shoulder, not quite breaking the bone.

"What's so special about Wormhole Station?" Kilana asked.

"Jorielle Sunspring," Gorren said cheerfully. "A proud warrior and the mate to our own proud warrior." He hit Sebastian's other shoulder, apparently to balance them out.

"It's been a while since we've been together," Sebastian explained.

"I see," Kilana said, even though it was clear that she didn't.

"Bah," Gorren said, falling back on the Klingon standard. "You are a Vorta; you would not understand. When we mate, we do so out of love, not like you did back in the Ferengi pleasure pit."

"Gorren," Sebastian said sharply.

"What I did," Kilana said, "I did out of love as well. Love for the Founders." She stood toe to toe with Gorren. "You're a Klingon; you would not understand."

"Yes," Gorren sneered, "Klingons do not understand willful slavery."

"Is that not what you call marriage?" Kilana replied. "To make the self subservient to another out of love for them?"

"What you call love, I call genetic programming."

"Enough," Sebastain said. "Now I need to know that you two aren't going to be at each others throats while I'm with my willful slave, okay?"

Gorren drew himself up. "I would not let even my own dishonor interfere in your happiness, my friend."

"I won't distract you," Kilana said.

"Good," Sebastian said. Together the trio got on board the Raven and headed for orbit, then slipped into hyperspace. Behind them, an Orion Syndicate freighter powered up its engines and followed.

More kickassery!!!

I like, Empress Leia is good as is Seb as always I liked Anakins bit and the psycotic Jedi girl, very amusing.

Jorrielle Sunspring Skywalker opened the door to her quarters. The man on the other side was wearing a blue and grey flight suit and a combination helmet-mask for breathing. "I expected as much," she remarked sternly. "All right, come in." She stood aside and the man walked in; she sealed the door shut behind him. Sebastian pulled the mask off; it was still in his hands when she struck, sending the two together into the wall behind Sebastian, her lips on his as her arms tried making up their minds of where they should start.

"You do this with everyone who comes through your door?" Sebastian asked when he had a brief respite.

"If I did," Jorri managed to get out, "I wouldn't be so quick to give you this welcome." She finally finished for the moment, then leaned back, looking Sebastian's suit up and down. "Can't say I approve of this," she remarked. "It'll have to go."

"Well, you'll-" Sebastian stopped, mesmerized for the moment. "I suppose you have a lot of practice getting in and out of that," he remarked as she tossed her own flight suit on his head.

"Imperial pilots, baby," she said. "Now, if you don't mind," she crawled onto the bed, "your wingmate is standing by waiting for your move."
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Laudica Reshad waited two days for Anakin to return. It was plenty of time to think, especially when you're alone and dare not leave the ship. The more she thought, the more her anger gave way to embarrassment. She knew for certain that she wasn't acting on her own impulses... okay, admittedly Anakin wasn't repulsive or anything. He was a Jedi, he kept in shape, and he seemed to care a great deal about his students, all positives. But she wouldn't have done what she did, felt what she felt, on her own. The only answer had been that he was using the Force to try and manipulate her mind. It did make sense at first glance. After all, he had brought her half way across the galaxy, and he'd made sure it was just the two of them. If he wanted to make some moves on her, he was in the ideal position. But there were problems with that idea she hadn't thought of at first. She knew that the Force influenced the weak mind, and pride wouldn't let her admit that about herself. Also, her blossoming Jedi senses hadn't picked up anything from Anakin except confusion, nothing malicious or mischievous. If he was playing with her mind, he was doing a good job of hiding his enjoyment of it. But the most damning of all was simply that it wasn't in his character. Anakin was patient and kind and self-sacrificing... it just didn't seem to fit in with the idea he'd go to this much trouble just to mess with her head.

The ramp sealed, and Laudica straightened up, still not sure what she should do at this point. Anakin stomped the snow from his boots and carried a storage box back to stow in the cargo area. Laudica went to start the pre-flight, then remembered that he'd locked the helm to keep her from leaving him behind. It was a smart thing to do because she'd been tempted at first. He came up and unlocked the helm without a word, then flopped into the chair. Laudica decided to be the first to speak as she started prepping for take off. "You were gone quite a while," she said.

"Gathering lightsaber crystals is not a matter of just grabbing shiny rocks," Anakin said with weariness in his voice.

"I suppose," she said as she finished the checklist and closed the ramp. The ship slowly left Ilum and headed for space. "About what happened-" she began.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," he said before she could continue. "I should have expected that."

She cocked one eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I should have expected your emotions to get the better of you."

Now she gave him a glare. "You stuck-up, vain little shit," she said. "Get over yourself."

Anakin looked at her with the same dazed confusion he had been, then straightened up. "Poor phrasing," he said. "I haven't had much sleep. I didn't mean your emotions towards me, I meant your emotions in general. Ilum is strong with the Force, and the Force is an influence on the mind."

"On the weak mind, if I remember the teachings correctly," Laudica said accusingly.

"On any mind, to one degree or another. The weaker the mind, the stronger the influence. Like, have you ever been on the fence about something, where a little nudge could push you one way or another?"

"Sure, everyone has."

"So even if your mind is strong, it only takes a little push from the Force to persuade you to take a direction. It's like a little friendly persuasion. So, in your case, you were influencing yourself."

"What?"

"Your mind was being influenced by its own emotions, feeding back upon themselves. Think about it, your little nervousness grew into terror, because your feelings were being amplified. When I tried offering you peace, that no doubt gave you some comfort, and it amplified to... you know... it wasn't that my animal magnetism was at work," he finished, and Laudica offered a laugh at it. "And then, when you got angry, naturally you got really angry. So, it was really just a matter of falling under your own influence."

"Well, how come it didn't affect you?" Laudica asked.

"Well, it does in a way. The influence of the Force is what helps give a Jedi control. But I've been a Jedi for so long I've learned to... tune out the noise, I guess you could say. That's why I said it was a mistake... not because there's anything wrong with you, but because this is all simply too new for you to take in properly."

"And what about you?" she asked. "I do recall that you seemed to be ready to give as good as you got."

Anakin cleared his throat. "Probably just the intensity of your own mind lowering my guard a moment."

"Uh-huh," she said while she activated the hyperspace controls, not bothering to hide her self-satisfied grin. "I'm sure it was exactly that."
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Jorri finished brushing out her hair while Sebastian lounged on the bed. He hadn’t slept in an actual bed for months, and just the feel of it was filling his mind with warm fuzzy thoughts of sleep. Jorri put the brush down then picked up Sebastian’s flight suit in the manner wives have done for millennia. Then she picked up the mask and looked at it for a moment. "I thought Leia- the Empress- had called off the search for you," Jorri said as she toyed with Sebastian's mask idly.

"Yes, which is a relief," Sebastian said. "But that only changes the Empire's policy, not people's thoughts. In many minds, I murdered the Emperor and drove us into near chaos; being incognito will help prevent any attempted 'accidents.'"

Jorri nodded just a little, then set the mask down carefully on a table. "We couldn't have picked a worse time to bring a child into this galaxy," she mused quietly.

"Hey," he said, coming over and taking her hand. "Don't even think that."

"The Vong are on the loose; even the Milky Way isn't safe any more." Jorri squeezed his hand tight. "More and more worlds are openly revolting, and the Empire has to let them, to avoid weakening their positions. Sebastian, we could lose this war... and even if we win, what will happen? Leia said she would lay down the power when this was over, but when does that happen? When the Vong are stopped? When the Empire is reclaimed? When?" She shook her head a little. "I know she's your aunt, and it's not that I shouldn't trust her, but I have a feeling this galaxy is going to get a whole lot uglier before this is over."

"That may be," Sebastian finally admitted. "But if I'm going to take an interest in that, I want a personal stake. You, the baby, you give me something to fight for; when all else is gone I have that left to cling to... and it's already gotten me through the worst of times."

Jorri snuggled into him and they embraced. "I suppose Rahasia and I could live with that," she said.

"Ah, it's Rahasia this time," Sebastian said.

"I like it," she said with mixture of humor and defensiveness.

"I had one in mind," Sebastian said. "It refers to the morning, the dawn. It's a bit of hope."

Jorri sat up and looked at him. "I do like the sound of that," she admitted. "What is it?"

"Morgan," he said. He looked at her curiously. "Is something wrong?" She sat frozen, as if she were locked in a stasis field. "Jorri?" She snapped back from wherever she'd been. "What is it?"

Jorri opened and closed her mouth several times. "You just... caught me off guard."

"What is it?" he asked, now visibly concerned.

"I-" She got up. "It's complicated," she said finally. "And I have to run a patrol with Mayhew. If you want we can discuss it then."

"Jorri-" he began.

"Sebastian, I don't want to start this and not have time to finish it," she said as she grabbed her flight suit. "I promise, as soon as I get back, I'll explain."

Many a husband has been stuck in this infuriating position, but Sebastian had learned to cope with being in the dark over the years. "Haven't seen you with one of those in a while," he finally said to change the subject.. He pointed to the complete environment flight suit she was sliding on.

"Patrol duty around Wormhole Base isn't a very high risk job; that's why I took it. We only get the old TIE Interceptors rather than the H-Wings." She ran a quick diagnostic on her suit's equipment, then gave Sebastian a kiss. "I'll be back in six hours," she said.

"Be careful," he said.

"In this system?" she said with a laugh. She sealed her helmet and left, leaving Sebastian to wonder what her odd behavior was about. After a few minutes he surrendered as most husband do to the fact that he wasn't going to figure it out himself and so might as well leave it alone. He crawled back onto the bed, enjoying the mild scent of his wife on her pillow before napping for a few hours. He awoke, took in a standard shower, and put his outfit -complete with mask- back on and hunted down Gorren. The Klingon and their Vorta companion seemed to be getting on as well as they could, given the growing sense of mutual antagonism. Sebastian ignored it; Gorren was too professional to let it get in the way of his work, and Kilana's only concern was the Founder anyway.

"Any problems?" Sebastian asked.

"None," Gorren said. "And Bashir seemed optimistic about the data for their work."

Sebastian nodded. "How was Han doing?" he asked.

"Well enough," Gorren said, "though I could tell he was hiding his grief. I would have thought the knowledge that his son had fallen in battle would be a comfort to him, but I didn't broach the subject."

"Good," Sebastian said. "Very wise."

"I am becoming used to dealing with alien ways," he said. "Though I worry sometimes that your ways may leave an impression on me."

Sebastian was about to respond when he froze. There was a tremor in the Force, and he reached out towards the disturbance to try and pick it out. The presence reached back towards them, and their minds met, sending a chill of terror through Sebastian's body.

Greetings, Jedi, came the thought from the Sith.

"Is something the matter?" Gorren asked, but Sebastian closed his eyes to concentrate.

Who are you?

Your doom, Jedi. Sebastian could feel the satisfaction in the mind of the Sith. Is that fear in you, Jedi? He seemed to be chuckling to himself. Good... you are wise to be afraid of me.

So it's my turn to die, is that it?

Astute, Jedi.

Sebastian opened his eyes. "We're leaving."

Gorren nodded; he knew when to ask questions and when to operate on his trust. "Do we have time to get our gear?"

"No, we'll have to leave it behind." They began walking briskly through the halls of the station.

"What's happening?" Kilana asked, but her question was drowned out by the Sith.

Are you trying to run away, Jedi?

Yes, Sebastian thought frankly.

You wish me to hunt you down before I kill you, is that it?

No, I just don't have the luxury of dying today.

I killed your father, Jedi. Don't you remember?

The trio turned a corner. Every single day, Sebastian thought back.

Are you going to pass over the chance to make me pay for that?

Yes.

You are a coward, the Sith thought with hatred.

The galaxies are falling apart, the Vong press further into Imperial space, and terrorism increases every day. I don't have the luxury of indulging in a fight with you.

You cannot hide forever, Jedi!

Tell me that again in a hundred years, if you can find me. Sebastian focused on the here and now. "Our old friend is coming," he said out loud. "We need to get out of the system in a hurry until we can plan our next move."

Gorren seemed hesitant for a moment. "Now would be the time to reclaim your lost honor, my friend."

"This guy is good," Sebastian said. "Even with your help, I doubt I'd win, and we have too much left to do."

"What more is there than your honor?" Gorren asked in bewilderment.

"My family," Sebastian said.

This silenced Gorren. "Sometimes our obligations stand in the way of what needs to be done," he finally said.

"Yes, they-" Sebastian shifted and twisted his head; a blaster bolt hit the wall right behind where his face had been a second before. He pulled his blaster out; Gorren, who was always a soldier, already had both out and had fired at the attacker, putting him down. Even as they did heads popped from out of cover everywhere, quickly followed by weapons. "Get to cover!" Sebastian said as he grabbed Kilana and pushed her towards a doorway, ducking down and taking a shot at one nearby. He dropped behind a crate of supplies, shot and ducked back. As he lay hunched down a blaster bolt exploded through it and hit the wall next to him. He flinched back as a second perforated the box, then rolled forward to avoid the next one, coming out of the roll and blasting a mercenary in the face. He jumped to his feet and ducked down the next corridor. "Gorren!" he shouted. The Klingon gave him a quick glance. "Give Kilana a weapon!" Gorren gave him a disapproving look, but tossed her one of his blasters. He shifted his other blaster to his right hand while his left pulled out his Klingon dagger.

Duwal cursed as he pulled himself back behind some cover for a moment. This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid, and still knew was going to happen. The Klingon was of no use to them; they were supposed to wait and catch him first. But these Syndicate mercenaries can sometimes be a little too independent, and probably thought the Jedi was the greater threat. Of course, he was, but taking a potshot at him wasn't going to solve the problem; if it was the Empire wouldn't have a five hundred thousand credit bounty on his head.

Then there was the Vorta. Technically she was expendable, but Duwal knew Luin wanted her back; she was worth too much to just kill. Except now she was armed with a blaster and was a threat, and the Klingon was there to protect her. Best laid plans... He ducked back then promptly returned fire. They had to move quicker; the Empire wasn't going to ignore a firefight for long. He switched his blaster over to stun and took a shot at the girl, missing. He ducked out again, lining up his shot-

Kilana put a blaster bolt into his face. Duwal's body collapsed on itself like a broken puppet. She went back to work. Gorran, however, apparently decided that it was time to up the ante. He holstered his blaster and put his dagger on the ground where he was crouching. He pulled out the disruptor... not a Klingon disruptor, but a little something he'd picked up from Black Sun a year ago. Sebastian disapproved, but they were in a desperate situation. He didn't want stormtroopers here for the same reason the Orion Syndicate didn't. He steadied his shot, aimed at the intersection the Syndicate was using for cover, and fired. It blew out a jagged chunk of metal, and left a similar shape in the mercenaries behind it, who fell to the floor in pieces. He gave a grin and turned to the next, sending the mercenaries scrambling. Another shot and there was a new doorway into a storage bay. He put the disruptor away, feeling he'd made his point. The Syndicate were going to be more cautious, and that would give them time to withdraw back to the Raven and get off the station before the Imperials found them.

Duwal had already had an idea in place for dealing with the Jedi, although he had doubts about the entire operation. When Luin had sent him the furry little beast with its nutrient harness, Duwal wondered if the Orion had lost his marbles. Still, if it did what it was supposed to do, then it fit in rather well with Duwal's own plan. It was a pity he was dead, because he never had the chance to see what happened a few moments later. As Sebastian came out from cover to take another shot, the Force left him. It was only a moment, but that was all it took. A Lethean, wearing the nutrient harness, stepped up behind him and put his hands on either side of his head. Without the Force, he never saw the attack coming, and it left him with no means to defend himself against the vicious telepathic attack. His jaw locked shut, his eyes screwed closed, and his mind was reeling under the mental onslaught. He tried to cling to something, but his thoughts were a jumble, and his mind collapsed under the blow, leaving him powerless to offer any resistance.

Why can't anything ever go good for your characters?

Superb, as always Chuck.

SO just how many more heroes are going to have their blood spilled.

And Morgan being a bad name for Jorri? Surely not something to do with Morgan Katarn (IIRC Kyle's dad's name)

The Sith fighter was a heavily-modified smuggling vessel. Ben Skywalker had a similar one in his own universe, one he'd grown quite fond of. This model lacked the cloaking device, but it did have more than enough weaponry and extreme maneuverability, which is what counted most for him. Most of the military equipment either required a special flight suit, or was as maneuverable as a sloth on rollerskates. Ben hated both, and took satisfaction in blowing many of each out of the sky over the years.

As Ben approached Wormhole Station -known to some as Wormhole Base- he gave his forged ship codes and moved in to an assigned docking bay. He fitted his mask into place as the ship settled into position, then headed down the ramp. The docking attendants watched him with fear, but he didn't care. Let them alert the stormtroopers; it wouldn't make a difference. As he left, however, the one attendant stopped the other from hitting the alarm. "What are you doing?" he demanded as she held his hand away from the button. "There's a half a million credits on this guy's head!"

"Yeah," she replied, "and guess who will collect it if you sound the alarm. I'll give you a hint, he has a blaster rifle and only knows killing and white uniforms."

"So?" the attendant said. "You have a better idea?"

"Yes," she said with a grin. "I do."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Sebastian twitched where he stood, the Lethean’s hands on both sides of his head, psychic energy passing between them into his mind. It ended when Gorren whirled and jabbed a klingon dagger into the Lethean’s ribs; it dropped to the floor without so much as a stagger. A moment later, Sebastian collapsed as well. Kilana was behind him, firing the blaster at the Syndicate members with instincts, but Vorta instincts with protection were quite good. She picked a second off, then a third. Gorren came to her side and joined in the fight, and that was when the remaining forces broke off and bolted. They were killers, but not soldiers, and this wasn’t what they’d signed on for. With the Lethean dead and their numbers dwindling, they knew this was already a failure. Gorren plucked the blaster from Kilana’s hand before she could say anything and placed it in his holster. “Syndicate ambush,” he rumbled.

“How did they know we were here?” she asked.

“Credits buy a great deal in the Empire,” Gorren said, “and that means information.” He knelt down by Sebastian and felt for his pulse. "We have to get him back to the ship. There will be more of them."

Kilana was shaking Sebastian. "He's dead," she said bitterly.

"No, but he won't be much use in a fight," Gorren said, hefting him to his feet. "Lethean attacks shut down the brain. Hopefully we stopped it before he came to much harm."

Kilana seemed hesitant. "I will stay here," she said.

Gorren put Sebastian's arm over his shoulder, but the Jedi hung limp. "Nonsense; follow me."

"It's me they want," Kilana said. "If I stay they'll leave you two alone."

Gorren grunted as he tried to turn with Sebastian's full body weight on his shoulders. "They were after him. A Lethean attack would incapacitate a Jedi, and they knew it. Gint must have told the Syndicate who he was. If you want to help, help me get him to safety!"

Before anything more could be said there was the sound of stormtroopers. Gorren groaned, knowing this wasn't going to end well. He was shocked when, after they had filled the hallway, they all turned away from him. "There he is, blast him!" one said, and immediately blaster fire rang out. Gorren called to Kilana and the two began heading down the hall in the opposite direction. Gorren managed a good trot despite the situation, but Kilana was able to easily keep up while glancing back. She was surprised to hear the sounds of screams coming from the stormtrooper ranks, until finally they parted, revealing a man in a cloak and mask swinging a lightsaber at the stormtroopers. She paused. "Is he a Jedi?" she asked. "Could he help us?"

Gorren turned, and for the first time ever Kilana saw a Klingon show fear. "No," he whispered. He began running, half dragging Sebastian as he tried to put as much distance between them and the pursuing Sith. They reached an intersection and Gorren activated the blast door, sealing them off. "Take him," he said, passing Sebastian off to Kilana, who nearly fell under the weight. Gorren pulled out his commlink. "Solo, Bashir, this is Gorren."

"Solo here, Gorren. What's up?"

"Our Sith adversary is here, and he's after us. We need help."

"Falcon's nearby," Han said. "Docking Bay 1172; we'll give you a ride out of here."

"My thanks," Gorren said putting the commlink away. He grabbed Sebastian and began running with him again. "Let us hope we can reach it in time," he said to his Vorta companion.

"What's going on?" Kilana asked as she jogged to keep up. "Who is that?"

"Sith," Gorren replied, panting. He quickly explained the situation, and Kilana's fear rose with each word.

"He kills Jedi?" she said. She had thought that nothing could do that, especially if Sebastian was still alive after the Lethean attack.

"This one killed Sebastian's father," Gorren said. "I saw a recording of him moving Earth's moon solely with his mind." Gorren shook his head. "Even if uninjured, I doubt even Sebastian could stand up to him. Now, it would be quick slaughter." There was a sound of metal striking metal, and they glanced back and saw the blast door closing. Gorren didn't waste time talking; he hefted Sebastian up and did his best to sprint, Kilana following suit. They passed through the next door before it closed, but there was another after that. Sweat poured down Gorren's face as he raced to beat it; Kilana had already passed through and was waiting for him on the other side. With a cry of defiance he jumped and the two passed through the doors just before they closed.

"There it is," Kilana said. Gorren had no breath left, he just nodded and picked up Sebastian. Cybernetic implants made Sebastian heavy, but Gorren carried him like he weighed no more than a kitten. They turned into the docking bay and rushed to the ramp. Bashir was waiting for him at the top. "This way," he said, ushering them over to the bed he'd already prepared for Sebastian. Gorren laid him down and Bashir worked on getting his mask off. "Someone get me my medical kit," he said.

Kilana found it and handed it to Bashir, who had just finished getting the mask off. Sebastian's expression was a cross between being dead and being heavily doped. Bashir opened the kit and ran a medical tricorder over him. "I've had experience with Lethean attacks," he said, mostly to himself. "They can be fatal, but I don't think I see any permanent damage, at least physically."

"Can you help him?" Gorren asked, getting straight to the point.

"I don't think so, not yet. This is a telepathic attack; we've got to just hope that he can fight it off."

"Then I have every confidence," Gorren said with a nod. Before any more could be sound there was a sound of protest from the ship's engines and a great deal of Corellian swearing.

"I'm glad someone does, “Bashir remarked as he went towards the cockpit, only to be nearly knocked over as Han came rushing out. "Bad?" he asked.

"I can handle it," Han barked as he grabbed his toolkit and raced towards the back of the Falcon.

"What's going on?" Kilana asked Bashir. "I thought you would help us escape."

"Yes, well, the Millennium Falcon is a rather temperamental old ship." There was a heavy clang and a collection of shouts and curses. "As is her owner," he added.

"But that person was after us!" Kilana said.

"A Sith," Gorren said with a nod, heading over to a display and getting a look through the base's security cameras. The Sith had been trapped between two blast doors, but it didn't look like he was going to let that stop him. He was already trying to cut through with his lightsaber.

"There's four blast doors between him and us," Bashir said as he watched the activity on the display. He tapped his lips with a clinical detachment. "Rate of cut... distance... Han, I'd say you've got about six minutes before we all face a rather violent death."

"Thanks," Han shouted back, his tone managing to care a great deal information, especially about the value of Bashir's opinion and the circumstances of his conception.

"Is that going to be enough time?" Kilana asked.

Gorren looked between Bashir and Kilana, then drew himself up. "Yes, it is." He walked over to Sebastian and started going through the pouches of his suit.

"What are you doing?" Kilana demanded. She froze as she saw him pull out Sebastian's lightsaber.

"Today is not a good day to die," Gorren said, holding the weapon up as he examined it. He flipped the switch and the blades came on, then turned off. "But it will have to do."

"Gorren," Bashir said, "that is a dark Jedi out there. You can't beat him."

"Ah, but I don't have to," Gorren said. "Just slow him down."

"Wait," Bashir said, then rummaged through his medical kit for a moment. "Wear this."

"What is it?" Gorren asked with annoyance as Bashir attached it to his neck.

"Blood oxygenator," Bashir said. "I have a feeling you might need it."

Gorren nodded to him, then put a parting hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "See you in Stovolkor, my friend," he said, then strode down the ramp and out of the docking bay. He reached the nearest blast door. Even as he arrived the tip of a lightsaber penetrated and began cutting; there wasn't going to be much time to prepare. Gorren got down on one knee and bowed, the lightsaber held to his brow. "Kah'less," he thought with determination. "I go to my death as a warrior. I ask you, in my final hour, to give a bit of your strength for my strength, your skill for my skill, your courage for my courage. Help me save my friend, great Kah'less. I do not ask for a glorious death, but a death that will mean something." He opened his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, then rose to his feet. He switched on the two blades and held it before himself like a bat'leth. The blast door fell towards him with a blow that shook the floor; Gorren didn't so much as flinch.

The Sith came through, paused when he saw Gorren, and laughed with contempt at the Klingon. He made a gesture and Gorren was thrown aside like a leaf in a windstorm, and the Sith went on his way. Gorren pulled himself to his feet; it was a miracle that he hadn't been killed by his own lightsaber. "Coward!" he cried after the Sith. He paused at the insult. "Running away to kill a helpless victim rather than face an armed enemy? You are no warrior!"

The Sith turned back to face him, his face unreadable behind the mask. He gestured at Gorren, and the Klingon's windpipe sealed. The blood oxygenator kicked in and despite the choking he still stood, although it took all his strength to do so. He gave a contemptuous grin to the Sith, and finally he felt the pressure ease as the Sith turned his lightsaber back on. "Come!" Gorren said between gasps. "It is a good day to die!"

"Maybe for you," the Sith said as he approached. "I plan to live forever." Gorren waited until he was close, then swung. The weight of the lightsaber was all wrong, and he overextended, allowing the Sith to step out of the way with ease and stick his lightsaber into Gorren's side. Gorren let out a cry of pain and rage and swung back, getting another stab for his troubles. "Klingons," he said with contempt as Gorren stumbled in agony. "So much talk, but you all fight like a lazy hutt. It's really quite pathetic."

"Hide behind your words, Sith!" Gorren snarled back. "Let them keep you warm on cold nights when you realize tricks are all you have! Take them away and you have all the skill of a Ferengi!" He screamed as the Sith shoved the tip of his saber into his left arm near the shoulder, then slowly drew it down towards the elbow. He stepped back as Gorren swung blindly, then stabbed the Klingon in the abdomen through his back. Behind his mask he smiled as the Klingon coughed weakly, then jerked as he pulled the blade free.

"The words of dead men mean little to me, Klingon," the Sith said. He turned and began walking away, but he heard the wheezing and turned back. Gorren was stumbling after him, still holding the lightsaber. "You are determined, if not bright. Probably too stupid to die."

"Go with your strengths," the Klingon gasped. He made some bat'leth like swings just for show, then charged as best he could.

"Nice trick," the Sith said with irony in his voice. Gorren swung, and the Sith easily evaded, bringing his lightsaber around to chop off his right hand. Instead of pulling back the severed limb, however, Gorren continued his forward momentum and struck the Sith across the face with the stump, knocking his mask free. The Sith turned back from the blow, and looked at Gorren with fire in his eyes.

"Thump," Gorren said through teeth clenched in agony. "It's the... only trick I know."

"Oh really," the Sith said with hate. "Lie down." Gorren was tossed backwards several meters and landed on his back with a hard thud. "Roll over." His body twisted until he was face down on the floor, bones cracking in protest. Ben kicked the lightsaber away from the Klingon's feeble grasp. He spun his own blade and held it point down. "Play dead," he stabbed Gorren through the back up to the handle. He deactivated the weapon, then kicked the body over. There was no sign of life in the Klingon's eyes.

Ben hung his lightsaber on his belt, then turned and looked at the one that had fallen from the Klingon's grip. It was Sebastian Skywalker's; he'd seen enough footage of his counterpart to know that. He reached out and it flew through the air into his waiting grip. The moment his hand closed around it, it was just like the Lethean attack had been for Sebastian. Hate, fear, pain, rage, the sources of Sith strength, turned on him in that moment. He tried to release the lightsaber, but his fingers seemed fused to it. Ben stumbled and hit the wall, leaning against it for support as his mind was bombarded. Then he heard the voice, and even in the midst of the emotional storm it pierced through to his mind. "Mara Jade's lightsaber," Ben Sisko said. "You should have known better than that."

"Make it stop!" Ben cried, or tried. He couldn't get his muscles to respond properly; instead it was just a desperate mental thought, although that didn't seem to matter to Sisko.

"This is the path of strength; don't you remember? The self-destruction of the dark side is a lie. You should know, you've said it many times to your students or to the Jedi you've slaughtered." There was no sarcasm in Sisko's tone, which made it all the worse. "You haven't given up on your beliefs, have you?" Ben slid down the wall until he was kneeling on the floor; still he couldn't drop the damn lightsaber! "The dark side has no loyalty, Ben. It consumes, and it doesn't care who or why."

Sith lightsaber crystals are often constructed through personal meditation. When complete, there remained a bit of the Sith's power within. It was subtle; despite proximity Luke and Sebastian hadn't noticed over the years they lived near it. But Ben Skywalker had a personal connection to this weapon's creator, one filled with pain and fear. Sisko was probably amplifying the effects, but for him it was like jabbing a pick into an exposed power socket. It took all his strength, but he was able to release the lightsaber; he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.

After a few seconds he tried picking himself up, but he heard the voices again, like on Chandrilla. In the weakness of his exhaustion, their accusations filled him with fear, as if he were on the cusp of cosmic judgment. He put his hands over his ears for all the good it would do, his eyes screwed shut. "Tell me," Sisko said, not unkindly, "what in your Sith training ever prepared you for this moment?"

And then, like waking from a nightmare, it was gone, and Ben realized someone had just put binders on his hands. He looked up and saw he was surrounded by stormtroopers. His eyes narrowed, and they were tossed backwards like a bomb had gone off. With a thought the binders dropped from his wrists and he grabbed his lightsaber and swung, his embarrassment at this humiliation turned into a white hot rage he channeled into a fury of destruction. The stormtroopers weren't just killed, they were massacred. As the last one fell he looked and saw the Falcon through the window as it exited the docking bay, and a scowl crossed his face.

On the floor, near his feet, the corpse of Gorren seemed to be smiling.

Wow. Poor Gorren's off to Sto'Vo'Kor. Personally I thought Jorielle was going to get shot down by Ben...

Idiot stormtroopers, stun him first, THEN put on the binders.

And Chuck isn't scared to kill the main characters he created! Damn, that's mean.

Gorren died a brave and extremely kickass death.

I've updated my sig in your honor...

The Millennium Falcon slipped out of the docking bay into space. As they turned, Bashir saw the Sith through the window, staring at them as they flew past. "It's an amazing similarity," he remarked in passing. "If I didn't know he was lying down in the back I'd swear that was Sebastian."

"Let's not let him get any closer," Han said as he kicked the engines up. "Take the controls while I get the coordinates from the nav computer."

"Where are we going?"

"Earth."

"Why there?" Bashir asked.

"Because it's the first thing I thought of," Han replied.

Lying down on a bunk, Sebastian tried getting his thoughts together, but it was like trying to grab a speck floating in the water; it kept sliding out of his grip. As the ship passed the window, however, the Sith's thoughts pierced his shattered mind.

You cannot escape me, Jedi.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Ben Skywalker, Sith Lord, stood amongst the mound of dead stormtroopers, oblivious to their presence as he watched his enemy attempt a retreat. He deactivated his lightsaber and pulled out a site-to-site transporter. A moment later he was standing inside his ship. He took his seat in the pilot's chair, went through preflight within seconds, and started lifting off. He gestured, and the doors for the docking bay opened; he would have preferred to blast his way out, but that was outweighed by the risk to his ship. Sith were reckless, but not stupid. When the doors opened he pushed it to full throttle and roared out of the docking bay, twisting as he did to follow the escaping Falcon.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Bashir was visibly sweating. "I'm afraid I'm not exactly experienced in this kind of flying," he said as he tried to make a move to evade the Sith Fighter and instead sent them into a crazy spiral. "You'd better hurry." An alarm sounded, but Bashir didn't dare take his eyes away long enough to see what it meant. "I hope that's not bad news," he said in the tone of a man who knows alarms rarely ring to report good news.

"Damn! Wormhole Station's set up an interdictor field!" Han hit some buttons. "It's nearly 2 AU across; so much for a quick escape."

"Why would they- ah, the fighter."

"Leia wants him bad; can't say I don't feel the same, but I'd rather not be caught here with him." The ship rocked under a laser blast. "I'll take over, go check on your patient."

Bashir pulled himself out of the chair and worked his way back to wear Sebastian lay. The Vorta, Kilana, was watching over him like a mother lion, ready to protect him against anything or anyone. Bashir pulled out his medical tricorder again. "He seems to be doing somewhat better," he said with relief. "Pass me my medkit there." He took it and prepared a hypospray, then held it to Sebastian's neck. "Hopefully this'll help speed up his recovery, now that he's started to fight it off." The ship shook violently under another impact.

"What's happening?" Kilana demanded. "Why haven't we gone to lightspeed?"

"Interdictor field," Bashir said, examining the readings again after the injections. "Large gravitation impression on space, leaves ships unable to enter hyperspace."

"I thought they were obsolete?"

"The Empire developed a new form that was immune to anti-interdictor torpedoes, for the moment anyway." The ship shook again. "Lucky for us," he said dryly. "Keep an eye on him, let me know if he's having some kind of reaction." Bashir got back to his feet and stumbled under another impact on his way back to the cockpit.
Bashir returned to his seat. He was amazed at how fast Han's hands were flying over the controls while he spoke on the comm system. "Mayday mayday, civilian freighter Millennium Falcon under attack, requesting assistance."

"Stand by, Millennium Falcon," said a voice with the calm detachment of one who wasn't being shot at. "We are attempting to lock onto the hostile with a tractor beam."

"You're not going to get this guy with a tractor beam," Han said sharply. Another blast rocked the Falcon. "Damnit, get us some support ships or lower the interdictor field! We're sitting ducks out here!"

"Shields are holding," Bashir reported. "But I'm not sure they will for much longer."

"Come on old girl," Han said, "don't let me down." He started putting the Falcon through an even more intense set of maneuvers that threatened to roll Bashir's eyes back into his head, but it didn't seem to make any difference. There was laser fire everywhere. "You ever operate a quad laser cannon?" Han asked in a rush.

"No, but I learn quickly."

"Good, crash course, down the ladder. That should at least give him something else to think about." Bashir nodded as he headed back through the cockpit door. His equilibrium took a jolt as gravity changed direction on his way down, then he settled into position. He looked the controls over; it was all fairly straightforward.

"Try to spook him off our tail," Han said over the comm.

"Aye aye," Bashir said, bringing the gun around to point back towards the pursuing Sith Fighter. He fired a few shots, but it evaded easily. A few more, and it rose up out of sight. "He's out of firing range," Bashir reported.

"Stay there, he may slip up."

"Civilian freighter," came the sound of the officer at Wormhole Station, "we are having trouble locking on with our tractor beam."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious," Han shouted back. "Now can you give us some help out here?!"

"Stand by, we'll be sending you some support."

"'Stand by,'" Han growled. "We head for the edge of the field, and it'll take longer for the backup to arrive. We head back to the base, and we're stuck here."

"He can't hold off against all those fighters," Bashir pointed out.

"Yeah, but he just needs enough time to catch us," Han said. "And that's what he wants, another dead Jedi. Well, he took away my boy, and he sure as hell isn't getting Sebastian. We'll head for the edge and hope for the best."

"Doctor," Kilana said peeking her head down the shaft. "I think he's having a reaction."

"Han?" Bashir asked.

"Go, you're not doing much good down there... no offense."

Bashir climbed back up to the deck and rushed over to Sebastian, his tricorder already out. "It's not a reaction," he said as he closed it up. "He's starting to shrug it off. The treatment is working faster than expected. His nanoprobes seem to be accelerating his recovery."

"Good," Kilana said, resuming her protective position. Bashir got to his feet and returned to the cockpit. As he passed through he had to resist the urge not to grab the wall as space spun beyond him. Han was pulling out all the stops it seemed, and considering they hadn't felt an impact for a couple minutes, it seemed to be making a difference.

"How much further?" Bashir asked.

"A while," Han replied, not letting his attention wane.

"Civilian freighter," the officer said again, "we have ships inbound. They will assist you. When you are clear proceed beyond the field and engage your hyperdrive."

"Thanks," Han said. "Brilliant strategist, that man," he remarked to Bashir.

"Tractor beam control reports inability to lock on," someone else reported in.

"Launch all fighters," the officer said. "Launch all fighters."

"Finally," Han remarked.

"Wormhole Base," came a new voice on the comm, "this is patrol 127, we are preparing to intercept."

"Patrol 127, you are cleared to engage and destroy," came the response from the base. Han banked as two TIE Interceptors roared past, firing their laser cannons at the Sith fighter. It made only the smallest of moves to evade, firing again at the Falcon as it continued to run for the edge of the field.

Sebastian sat up a little as the sound of the battle came over the comm. Something was itching his broken mind. "Loosen up, but don't break off, this guy looks too good to take down alone."

"Copy, sir," came the response. The TIEs passed near the Falcon again, and Sebastian felt it, and it locked the last mental piece into place. His eyes went wide, and Kilana flinched as he bolted from the bed.

Jorri!
--------------------------------------------------------------

A look of brief confusion passed over Ben Skywalker's face, soon followed by a smile of self-satisfaction. With a quick move his ship twisted off its pursuit course of the Millennium Falcon. He fired weapons, and the TIEs scrambled to avoid him.
--------------------------------------------------------------

"Wormhole Base," Jorri said, "be advised the bogey has broken off its attack on the civilian freighter and is actively pursuing our patrol." The TIEs twisted to evade his weapons, but he stayed on them. "Requesting reinforcements, Wormhole Base."

Sebastian lurched into the cockpit, hitting the wall hard and causing Han and Bashir to whirl around and look at him. "The Sith is bugging off," Han told him, turning back. "It's the Empire's problem now."

It took all his concentration to get his mouth to move right, and even then he sounded like a buffoon, but the words came out. "He's after Jorri."

Han turned to Sebastain again, then looked at his instruments, and that at space through the window. "Aw kriff," he muttered as he yanked the Falcon around and headed back for the fray.

"Give me some room," Jorri ordered her wingman as she took a wild spin to give her a moment to put the ship at full throttle. The Sith fighter turned to follow. "I'll keep him busy, you finish him off." Her wingman acknowledged and Jorri dipped and veered right, then left, then back, taking quick banks and unexpected turns. The Sith Fighter's weapons continued to fire, but she was managing to stay ahead of him for the moment, never quite giving him a chance to lock on for the kill. "Mayhew?" she asked.

"I can't get a lock on him, sir," he said. "He's just too quick."

"Hurry it up, I can't do this all day." She had her speed at maximum and was going through all the parts of her evasive maneuvers playbook, and even with the Sith Fighter evading her wingman's fire, he was still always on her tail. It was starting to make her a little nervous.

Sebastian fumbled for a headset and put it on. "Jorri," he said.

"'Bastian?" she replied in surprise, almost getting blown to pieces for the brief lapse in judgment.

"You've got to get out of here, now!" he said. "Don't argue, just go!"

The edge in Sebastian's voice spoke of more than just worry; he was terrified of what was about to happen. She had to trust his instincts. "ETA on the fighters?" she asked Wormhole Base.

"Ninety seconds," came the response over the comm. Jorri saw the Falcon coming in and she banked off to the right, the freighter already firing towards the Sith Fighter head on. It dodged, twisted, and came right back on her flight path.

"Determined, isn't he," she mused, but there was a nervous edge to her voice. She turned the inertial damper to max and put the ship into insane turns and random jumps, yet still he stuck like glue behind her. Even as the Falcon joined her wingman in trying to blow him away he flew as if they weren't even there. Every time she seemed to straighten out there was approaching laser fire all around her, so she was constantly corkscrewing and weaving to avoid his shots, but it was simply impossible to do it and keep her bearings. She could be leading them away from the rest of the ships for all she knew. She took a brief second to glance at her position; it was all Ben Skywalker needed. To her credit, it was a grazing shot, just alongside the strut to starboard of her pod. The ship now spun even beyond her control, alarms filling her cabin. She heard Sebastian call her name, but she tuned it out.

"Sir, what's your status?" Mayhew asked. "Can you pull it out?"

“It’s no good!” Jorrielle shouted as she tried to keep the ship under control. “I’ve lost stick, engine’s going critical.” She grit her teeth, making the decision. “I’m ejecting,” she announced as she pulled the handle. The top of her TIE burst off and she was shot out into space, narrowly missing the passing panel as she floated away. The explosion pushed her even faster, and she had to use the small jets in her seat to stop the end-over-end flipping that was tying her stomach in knots.

“Recovery’s on the way, sir,” Mayhews said as reassuringly as he could, but Jorrielle knew the truth. She was a beautiful target, unmaneuverable and unarmored.

"She won't have that much time," Sebastian told Han. "We've got to pick her up now!"

"Hang on," Han said without another word as the Falcon twisted around, engines flaring as he poured on the speed. Jorri looked towards the distant shape of the Falcon, and the much closer shape of the fighter.

Ben Skywalker took a chance to savor the moment. She was vulnerable now, and through her, him. Know pain, he thought towards Sebastian through the Force. Feel her die.

Please, Sebastian thought back. Your fight is with me, not her!

You broke the rules, Ben thought back. You ran away and hid behind the weak. If I have to kill them to get to you, that's the price you pay for your cowardice.

I'll fight you, Sebastian thought frantically. Whatever you want, just don't do this!

It's too late for that, Ben thought with scorn. I'll find you eventually, but for now, let this serve as a reminder if you decide to let cowardice govern your actions next time.

Adrenaline focused Sebastian's mind like a razor. "Jorri, hang on!" he said into the comm.

“Sebastian,” she said, closing her eyes as she heard the despair in his voice. “I’m so sorry.” The fighter was getting closer now; she was an easy target, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Han-” Sebastian said in a drawn out tone.

"I'm working it, kid," the old smuggler said, trying to get them into position. "Jorri, just hold on a little longer.

Jorrielle tried to blink away the tears. “It’s too late,” she said as the ship closed to within range, evading her wingman's best efforts to intercept it. She should’ve been terrified, but all she could think about was the baby. It wasn’t fair for her to die now, not without knowing any of the wonders life had to offer her. She cursed herself for her arrogance and putting her unborn daughter in danger, and now into certain death. She would’ve dived into a sarlaac’s maw and faced its living death rather than this fate. But it was too late to change things now, too late to make the right choice. She watched helplessly as the weapon's prepared to flare. She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye. “I love you, ‘Bastian.”

He felt the comforting presence slip from his mental grasp, and Sebastian fell to the floor. He didn’t cry out, he just said her name over and over, as if trying to quietly awaken her from a deep sleep. His wife and his unborn child... the knowledge was like an overwhelming weight around his neck and heart. The sorrow seemed to seep through his pores into the core of his being, engulfing him in a dread that dwarfed even the loss of his own father. And above it all, the prophet’s words came back to him.

“They’re going to take it all away from you.”

What did I say in my last post?
Sonnenberg you, cold hearted Sunnuva...
I know your stripping it all away from Seb for dramatic purposes but surely Jori was the only reason he had for fighting? Whats he gonna do now? It's not Jedi-like to fight for her now seeing as that would be revenge...

Damn, your one sadastic sob.

Crazedwraith wrote: What did I say in my last post?

You were on the money, just didn't comprehend the depths of my sadism. You don't kill his wife and kid until you've savagely murdered his best friend. Amateurs.

Crazedwraith wrote: Sonnenberg you, cold hearted Sunnuva...
I know your stripping it all away from Seb for dramatic purposes but surely Jori was the only reason he had for fighting? Whats he gonna do now? It's not Jedi-like to fight for her now seeing as that would be revenge...

Very early in PL was the scene where Luke moved the moon back into place. Someone called it deus ex machina at the time, but the purpose wasn't the drama of the moment, but because the moment had to happen. The shadow of that event still looms over Sebastian whenever he thinks of himself and his father.
There was certainly a conscious effort towards drama in this chapter, but the purpose of this plot point is to cast a very large shadow over Sebastian as a character now. Even beyond the immediacy of moving on without his center, how will this affect the rest of his choices. Could he, for example, even think of starting a relationship with Kilana with the knowledge that she too might be killed by Ben (not saying that's necessarily going to happen...)? Would he reach the conclusion that the only way to hope to have a normal life would be to hunt down Ben and kill him, no matter what the Jedi code said? Will he follow the path taken by his father and grandfather before him, of turning to power with the best of intentions, only to become an agent of evil?
Chapter 26 is only half done, and I've got a big backlog of other stuff to get to, but I'll try to get it out by Thursday.

darthdavid wrote:Damn, your one sadastic sob.

Thanks! Love the sig, btw.

Sonnenburg wrote:

Crazedwraith wrote: What did I say in my last post?

You were on the money, just didn't comprehend the depths of my sadism. You don't kill his wife and kid until you've savagely murdered his best friend. Amateurs.

'No one gets out alive' eh?

LOL Something like that.

Funny you should mention that... I've been thinking about putting that story to bed after this story ends. By then I should have a DVD version of Unimatrix Zero on hand to fuel my hatred for Voyager and its suckitude.

Sonnenburg wrote:Love the sig, btw.

If you're talking about the piece from your story: It was too awsome not to use.
If you're talking about the davie crockett: Who doesn't love a man portable tactical nuclear warhead launcher with a warhead that when set to max power has a larger leathal radius than range?
Whatever you're talking 'bout: Thanks for noticing.

Sonnenburg wrote:LOL Something like that.

Funny you should mention that... I've been thinking about putting that story to bed after this story ends. By then I should have a DVD version of Unimatrix Zero on hand to fuel my hatred for Voyager and its suckitude.

Ooohh, goody now that is something to look forward to. Seeing the scum of the universe suffer so is such sweet sweet fun.
Give in to your dark feelings, let the hate flow through you....wipe them out, all of them..well I am sure you get the idea

Sonnenburg wrote: Will he follow the path taken by his father and grandfather before him, of turning to power with the best of intentions, only to become an agent of evil?

I'm sure i've said it before but one of the great things about the whole Unity Saga is that it's got an entirely new history compared to the standard SW EU.
I was just about to mention that Luke hadn't turned to the Dark Side, as Dark Empire (IIRC that's the series) hadn't happened .... and then i remembered that he had turned to the DS, just in totally different conditions way back in Shadows of the Night.

Out of intrest are Paradise Llost and Blood of heroes set in around the same time period as the NJO in the normal SW EU?

Pretty much the same timeframe. I'm not too sure of the specifics because, in all honesty, I've only read one NJO book. Everything is based on second hand info.

It's an old story, but it still gets told amongst the troops. On Earth, centuries ago, they would train members of their security or military to deal with bombs and other explosives. The new initiate would be given a specially armored suit to wear, then sent off to do a training exercise. As he walked, his trainer would talk to him over the communicator; radio at the time. "From this distance, if the bomb went off it would knock you over." The trainee would nod and continue. As he got closer: "From this distance, if the bomb went off it would require a trip to the hospital." The trainee continued; the trainer then said. "From this distance, if the bomb went off, you'd probably lose an arm or a leg." Often the trainee would pause for a moment at the revelation, then continue walking. As he neared his target, the trainer said: "From this distance, if the bomb went off, you'd be dead."

Now the trainee stopped in his tracks. In a voice mixing frustration and confusion he asked, "If that's the case, why am I wearing the suit? It's not going to protect me from the blast."

"You don't understand," the trainer would say, usually with a small chuckle. "The suit isn't there to protect you. It's so that if the bomb goes off it'll keep all your pieces in one place to find."

Jorri had told him that story, and he'd shared a good laugh with her. As he stood on the dock of wormhole station as they brought her body in, the remains held together by her flight suit, he wasn't laughing. In less than half an hour he had lost his center; without his wife and child, he had no reason to carry on. They removed her helmet, and he looked into her horrified expression, and he wept right there. He didn't care what they thought; his companion, lover, friend, the term "soulmate" didn't begin to do her justice. He would have given anything to be lying there in her place. Han put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, kid," he tried to say as comfortingly as possible, but Sebastian knew it wasn't.

There were officials from around the station, and stormtroopers as well. No one bothered Sebastian, even though he wasn’t disguised. Besides the Empress’ order, they had more than enough evidence to see that Sebastian and the Sith couldn’t have been the same person. It would have been a relief to know as little as an hour ago; now it was pointless.

“You’d better get some rest,” Bashir told him. “You’re still recovering from a telepathic attack.”

Sebastian wanted to argue, but there was no point. His strength was gone, and he had nothing to cling to to replenish it. He was alone, and that wasn’t going to change. They escorted him back to Jorri’s quarters, and he dropped onto the pillow and cried himself to sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Sith Fighter settled into the docking facility on the Oracle's planet. Ben Skywalker noted with disapproval the presence of Cardassians about; there had been more in ships around the world. The Oracle was up to something, and she hadn't told him, at least nothing beyond the vague "security issue" remark. It would have angered him if he weren't already upset at recent events. He'd ultimately failed his mission, of course, but he did extract some satisfaction in the blow he had delivered. In retrospect, he should have taken Sebastian up on his offer for a fight and spared the girl... but for some reason that didn't seem right to him. As he flew back, with time to reflect on the matter, he suspected it was a desire for revenge at his humiliation. After all, if Sebastian hadn't fled, then the fiasco with his lightsaber would never have happened. He'd think twice about trying to run again.

Still, he'd let his anger get the better of him, to the detriment of his goals. Killing Sebastian was necessary, the girl wasn't. Sisko's words were so fresh in his mind, the taunting of the weakness of his choices. He wanted his anger to rule, wanted to demonstrate that it was he who controlled the dark side. In the end, it was a rather unimpressive display; the girl was good, but it was like stepping on an ant for a Sith. He should have known better.

Ben cast a glowering expression at everyone unfortunate enough to cross his path, but all were smart enough to give him a wide berth when they saw him. He passed the Oracle on his way towards his quarters; she was speaking with a Cardassian, but brushed him aside when she saw Ben. "My lord," she said in greeting. "I take it all went well." Ben growled at her, but said nothing, and continued walking. "If I may, lord," she called, and he stopped, then turned around with impatience. "Leia Organa Solo will be coming. While you were at Wormhole Base, the docking attendants placed a homing beacon on your fighter."

Ben's already dark expression moved towards darker. "Why didn't you tell me this?" he asked.

"You wanted to confront the Empress," the Oracle answered. "This is why you went to Wormhole Base, to draw her in. She'll think she'll catch you by surprise, but you can be ready for her. She will be no match for you." She smiled just a little. "There is even the chance you might turn her to the dark side."

"Unlikely," Ben said. "The light is too strong in her."

"Respectfully, my lord, I think you underestimate how far she has already gone. And her anger towards you will be great. After all, you've killed her brother, her son, and now her nephew-"

"He's not dead," Ben snapped, and in a moment wondered why he'd reacted like that. His failure must have gotten to him more than he'd thought.

The Oracle, for her part, wore an expression of slight bewilderment. "What do you mean, my lord?" she said with a shaky laugh. "You killed Sebastian Skywalker, did you not?" Ben said nothing, but it was a very talkative silence. "I saw it," she said. "You killed him, the Klingon, Bashir, and Solo. You spared the Vorta because she amused you. Isn't that what happened?"

"No," he said, his tone and expression made it clear that he wouldn't tolerate further discussion on the subject, but the Oracle didn't seem to notice.

"That's impossible," she said, mostly to herself. She rushed into her lab; Ben decided to follow. She was operating her equipment, and an image appeared on the screen... an impossible image. It was his confrontation with the Klingon, but... there was no way a camera could have recorded it from this angle! He was about to ask about it when his humiliation played out on the screen. He was tempted to shut it down with a lightsaber, but the Oracle's reaction gave him pause. "Sisko," she said under her breath. "I should have known. Even dead, you want to try and interfere." She watched all the events that transpired, through the Falcon's escape, Ben's pursuit, and the inevitable death of Jorrielle Skywalker. "It's of no importance," she finally said to Ben. "So Sisko managed to postpone the death of one Jedi... it won't make a difference. The Empress is the real danger, and she will come regardless. If she brings Sebastian along, it won't matter; even together they are no match for you, my lord."

"Of course," Ben said with disgust, as if the very idea he could fail was laughably obtuse. He returned to his quarters to prepare himself the conflict the Oracle warned him was soon coming. That would no doubt explain why she was increasing security, but her failure to foresee Sisko's manipulations was a bit unnerving. Ben wouldn't dare have admitted it, but he'd grown accustomed to her prophecies, and their inevitable outcomes. If Sisko could get around one of them, did that mean that they were no longer trustworthy? He dismissed it; Sisko had been lucky, that was all. The lightsaber, his connection to the woman who made it- Just the memory of her sent a stab of fear through his heart, which only fueled his dark side rage. "Play your games, Sisko," he said aloud, hoping the dead man might be listening. "They won't do you any good."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Sebastian was sitting in silence in the room with the two coffins. Both had been prepared and then put in stasis for their journeys to Qo'nos and Tatooine for the funerals. Sebastian would attend neither. This was where he said goodbye to both of them, and to the life he'd led. Kilana came in, showing quiet respect. She put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy; he didn't shrug it away, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. She held out his lightsaber. "They found this near the body," she said quietly. "I assumed you'd want it back."

Sebastian took it with a nod of thanks. He held it a moment, then got up from his stool and opened Gorren's coffin. "Sto’vol’kor is a rough place, my friend," he said as he placed it in the Klingon's hand. "This will do you more good than I."

Kilana wasn't sure what to say as Sebastian closed the coffin and reactivated the stasis field. "I don't understand," she finally admitted.

Sebastian ignored the remark. "Han will take you to Chandrilla," he said, not looking at her. "Volgo Terraine will be waiting, and then you can decide what it is you want to do."

Kilana hesitated. "I want to go with you," she said.

"No," Sebastian said, but it had a lifeless tone.

"You said I should choose what to do," Kilana said. "I choose to help you."

Sebastian turned and looked at her; he looked washed out, as if he was nearly as dead as his wife and friend. "Why?"

Kilana opened and closed her mouth a few times. "The Syndicate... if you hadn't saved me from them, then none of this would have happened."

Sebastian was quiet, then a hint of a smile appeared. "That's right," he said quietly. "I guess it wasn't wise." He rubbed her hand. "But it was right. That's what matters."

"I will help in any way I can," she said emphatically.

"Good," he said, "then go with Han."

"I want to go with you," she said in frustration. "You cannot do this alone."

"Do what?"

Kilana stopped, her mental train derailed. "You are going to find the one who did this, aren't you?"

"Why?"

Kilana was flabbergasted. "To bring him to justice, make him pay for what he did."

"Will that bring them back to me?" he asked. She was quiet; he turned his back to her. "Then what's the point?"

Kilana floundered. "I thought... I thought that was what you did. You have some kind of responsibility."

"Had," Sebastian said. "I had a home, I had a wife, I had a daughter, I had something to fight for." He turned away and ran his hand over Jorrielle Sunspring Skywalker's coffin. "And now it's gone. They have taken everything from me, all that I’ve ever loved. It’s all gone. And here I stand in the depths of woe, and even now the brief escape from reality is stolen from me, forbidden to entertain my desires." He laid his forehead on his hand, leaning against the coffin, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even want revenge, I just want to indulge in my emotions, just this once, just to allow myself to feel something besides the emptiness. But that’s forbidden because of my burden, because of what I am. I am a Jedi. Hatred is a luxury I am denied.”

Kilana didn't know what to do, so she tried her best to comfort him. Physical contact... something she'd learned to use in the employ of the Syndicate, but never for something like this. "Wherever you go," she said, "I will help you."

"Thank you," Sebastian said, still not moving. "But you can't. Where I'm going you can't follow."

"Why?" she asked, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "Because I'm not a Jedi?"

"No," Sebastian said. "Not because you're not a Jedi..."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Annika Hansen Skywalker opened her eyes; at least, what her mind was telling her were her eyes. She was lying in her bed, but beyond it, there was nothing. A single light came from nowhere, illuminating a circle around her, but revealing nothing. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, free of weariness and pain. There was nothing beyond the circle of light. "Hello?" she cried, but no response, not even an echo, as if the darkness devoured her words. "Doctor?" she called. "Doctor!"

"He can't hear you," an old, familiar voice said.

"Jean-luc?" Annika replied. She paused, the familiarity of the situation coming back. "Is it time? Am I going to die now?"

"No," Picard answered.

"Good," Annika said. "I need just a little more time, Jean-luc. Just a little more time 'til the dawn..."

"Annika, I'm sorry," Picard said, "but there isn't going to be enough time left in the world now."

Panic seized her heart, although she didn't know why. "What do you mean?" she asked. "What's going to happen?"

"It's too late, Annika," Picard answered. "There's nothing you could have done."

"Jean-luc," she said, her voice quivering with a barely contained fury, "tell me-" She was cut off by a baby's cry coming out of the darkness. "Hello?" she tried again. She followed the sound of the crying out into the darkness. "Hello?!" No one answered. "Is someone out there?" she cried almost in desperation.

"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."

"Hello?" Annika continued into the darkness.

"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."

"'Bastian?" she asked. She tried to follow the direction of the words, unable to orient based on anything but the sound of the crying.

Annika drew to a quick halt, her lungs frozen in shock as she saw Jorri standing before her. She was cradling a baby in her arms; it had finally stopped and lay in silence. Jorri looked up from the baby to Annika, and it was a face filled with shame and regret. "You were right," she said, and then she and the baby slowly faded into the darkness, oblivious to Annika's cries. Still, she saw a glow beyond.

"Be strong, or they'll take it all away."

Annika slowed as she saw another circle of light; the only sound now was her own breathing. She approached slowly, uncertain, her grief growing with every step.

There was a coffin on a table. It was wooden, with a solid black finish and a shine that was far too bright for so grim an object. It was draped by a red flag, the Imperial symbol emblazoned upon it. Before the casket sat Sebastian. He leaned wearily towards it, as if the weight of this tragedy was too much for his shoulders to bear. He was staring at it... no, not staring. It went far beyond that, as if there were nothing else in the universe but himself and the somber sight before him. Annika could only see his profile, but it betrayed no emotion. "'Bastian?" she said. "'Bastian?" He didn't answer. Uncertain, she came closer. "'Bastian," she said, unable to hide her grief any more, "I'm so sorry." Slowly, he turned to look towards her, and despite herself, she screamed.

Sebastian's left eye was gone, replaced by a Borg ocular device.

Annika took a frightened step back into a wall. No, she realized as she looked about her in fear, not a wall, an alcove. She saw drones moving about the Borg ship in their mechanized fashion; they ignored her presence. The circle of light was gone. "Sebastian!" she cried. "Where are you?"

The drones stopped in their tasks, and suddenly Annika felt a billion eyes looking at her; it chilled her to the bone. And then they spoke as one, as the Borg always did, a dark chorus setting the stage. "Everywhere, mother," the Borg answered.

"Sebastian," she said, crying. "Don't do this!"

"There is no other choice," the Borg answered. "The Jedi, Sebastian, is part of us now."

"Why?!" she cried. "Why did you do it?!"

"You are all that was left," the Borg answered. "Everyone else has been taken away. There was only one way to save you, the last one Sebastian had left."

"No!" she shouted. "It doesn't have to be this way!"

"Would you ask your son to bear this burden alone?" the Borg asked. "With no mother or father, no wife or daughter, no friend at his side, no allies to turn to? He tried to be strong, 7 of 9, but no one is this strong, not as an individual." One of the drones stepped closer. It took Annika a moment to recognize the drone behind the implants and skin tone, and she started to weep. "Now strength is irrelevant," Sebastian said with the voice of the collective. "He will adapt to service us."

Annika wept as the ship and all the Borg faded into darkness. She soon felt Picard embrace her in his fatherly way, and she cried on his shoulder. "This can't be happening," she said.

"There are some things we can change," Picard said. "And there are some that we can only accept."

"Never," she said with fire in her voice. "I'll stop him."

"It's too late for that," Picard said.

"I will not lose my son to them," Annika said. "And pity anyone who tries to get in the way."