Dark and ice blue eyes clashed, everything else in the universe forgotten as the two stared at each other. Their grips tightened on their lightsabers, but neither made a move to attack. He should attack now. She was vulnerable. She was evil. She was death incarnate. She was the love of his life. How could he strike her down?
Her voice snaps through the air like a whip. A sharp warning. Leave and she will spare him, although she will find him again. It almost sounds like a tempting promise. He should stay. He should fight her. But he will lose. Does it matter? Is it better to die now instead of having to see what she will eventually become?
In the end, he's a coward. He flees. He can't face her. He loves her. He can't kill her.
Frustrated hands slam down on the ship's console as the last contact he has falls dark once more. She's finally done it. She's gone through and hunted every last Jedi to extinction. Every single one of them are dead. Except for him. He snorts at the thought. He's no Jedi. He's a coward. He should have fought her then. He might have been able to stop her.
But he knows that's not true. She's too strong. She's too powerful. She's too…her. She hunted down the last three remaining Sith Lords and killed them with little effort as well though. Maybe there is hope for her.
His console beeps. Hope flares inside for a moment. Maybe a contact? Maybe she missed one. He answers the message, only to feel a chill seep into him as her silky voice sounds out in the room. It's prerecorded. A message. A promise. She will find him. She will show him the error of his ways. She will have him again.
He doesn't admit it now, but he wants to be hers again.
It's been years. He thinks. Maybe it has been days. It's hard to tell now. He's been running for so long. He feels empty inside. All he can do is try to stay one step ahead of her now. Wake up, find out where she is, plot another random jump to try to lose her and maybe pick up supplies, go back to sleep, dream of her face. Rinse and repeat. How long has that cycle continued? Is it worth it?
He doesn't know the answer to that question anymore. Why is he still fighting it? Why does he still run? She will win in the end. She is everything. She is his life. She is his death. She is his everything. He listens to her message again. Her voice calms him. Brings him peace. Focus. He needs her. He doesn't want to admit it. But he does. Even now, when everything has changed, she is the one thing that makes him keep living.
With her, he will be letting her win the galaxy. Without her, he is nothing; empty. He falls asleep dreaming of her face again.
She wants to meet. Says it is time for this to end. He agrees. He can't keep running. It's been too long. But what will he do? He can't beat her. He's too weak. He needs her. Living without her was hell. Running away from her has killed whatever was left of him. He has to have her. But he can't give in to him. He's the last hope the galaxy has.
What a pathetic last hope he is. In love with the woman who has murdered billions in the name of change. He can't let her go though. Does she even care anymore? Does she even remember their time together? Or has she forgotten? Would that be easier? Maybe it would be best if she had forgotten their past. Maybe he should be nothing but another target for her.
His heart clenches in his chest at the thought. No. He refuses to believe that. She's let him live this long. Maybe, just maybe, she needs him just as much as he needs her. He hopes so. Maybe their confrontation won't end in death. Those thoughts are pointless though. He'll see what happens when he confronts her for the final time.
He just wants to have her in his arms again.
Rain pours down. It seeps into his clothes. Into his skin. Chills him to the bone. He can't think properly. He should get into shade. Try to avoid the rain. But she's getting closer. He can feel her. She's…intoxicating. She is life, death, his everything. Coming here was a mistake. He can't think around her. His mind is consumed with thoughts of her.
He should leave. She's not here yet. He has time to leave. He could keep running. Pretend this never happened.
He can't do it. He can't force his feet to move. The temptation of seeing her again is too strong. He needs her and she knows it.
He hears a familiar sound from above. A shuttle. She's here. He can't leave now. The fate of the galaxy will be decided here, on this forgotten planet.
He's terrified, excited, exhilarated. Mostly, he just can't wait to see her again.
The shuttle door opens and she strides out, every fluid movement graceful as a dancer's. Force, she's more beautiful than he remembered. Her white hair is down, framing the same face he remembered tracing with his fingers in a past lifetimes ago. Her ice blue eyes are sharp as she gathers information on her surroundings. His blood speeds up. He can feel his heartbeat all over his body. The creamy white skin that is exposed to the rain is already turning from pink from the hard rain. For someone so powerful, she's so fragile.
Her eyes meet his. They soften before she realizes it. She does need him. He can see the look in her eyes. Her walk is slow, steady, seductive. Her hips sway lightly, but he can't pull his eyes away from hers. She is perfect, just like he remembered.
She mutters his name like a forbidden promise, her lips brushing against his ear. He shivers, and this time it has nothing to do with the rain. He shouldn't have let her get so close. Her presence is overwhelming. He's dizzy with her. She mutters that she needs him. He can't help but smile. Those words bring a happiness to him he hasn't felt since before the first war. A happiness he hasn't felt since he last held her against him.
She tells him to join her. Tells him they will build a new galaxy. He's not interested in that. Doesn't care what happens to the galaxy anymore. She's the only thing important anymore. She senses the change.
Join me, she almost purrs. Stand by my side. I need you, she whispers. He's almost broken to her will. She's too much for him to handle. Be my passion, she offers. Her hand tangles in his wet hair as she pulls him down to her level, kissing him with an intensity that puts fire back in his veins. He pulls her against him, and the galaxy is lost.
In the end, she wins. He always knew she would. She may be death incarnate for the galaxy, but she is the passion that fuels life for him. And there is nowhere he would rather be than at her side.
Anything familiar belongs to LucasArts/Obsidian/Bioware. Tyla Kian Moore belongs to me.
Life, Death, Passion © Shadows of the Storm.