A/N: Originally written September 2005. I can't quite remember the origins of this fic, but I seem to remember reading a scene in Traitor and then writing this immediately afterwards. Don't you just love digging up old stuff?
Only One Jedi
He has never been more confused in his life, but at the same time, he has never understood the world more. At the present moment, everything he was, everything he is – his entire being – has been propelling itself towards this time and this place.
This time. This place.
He has no concept of time. Time is in the past. There is only the dull fullness of now. Now is everything he's ever lived for. His past self would have been frightened of the pleasures of now. But like time, his past self is gone.
This time. This place.
This place is an unimaginable cesspit in the ruins of what once had been the centre of the Galaxy. This place has changed – and as it has changed, it changes everything that touches it. He came to this place with one mission in mind, only to have it replaced by another. By coming here, he has been forced to change. This place has killed his past self.
This time does not exist, only now does. This place has destroyed this time, just as it has destroyed his past self.
Never before has he known anything so alien, so obscure that it is terrifying – and yet, it is comforting. The wanderer has found his lost place. He is comforted by this fact. He will now thwart his lost place, his alien place, his now, his this place which has caused so much destruction and loss. He will complete his mission.
"Buy me ten minutes. That should be enough."
He will do it for his past self's friend. He will do it for the lost Jedi. He will do it for the traitor. He will do it for Jacen Solo. Most of all, he will do it because he must. He's commanded to by a power that is beyond his comprehension, but still courses through him.
This place, his mission, and now are a world of opposites. A world of opposites that unite together to face the ugliness of what has happened to the Galaxy. With the combination of these opposites, there is hope – hope for a new day, hope for the end of this war.
He does not think he will see the end of the war, even though he knows it will end. Even though he doubts that he will exist in the land of the living for much longer, he is filled with a jubilant power because he knows that his enemies will cease their bloody crusade.
He stands in the archway. The doomed archway; the archway that symbolizes so much. It is the way to death, the way to destruction, the way to loss, the way to fear, the way to hopelessness that will eventually bring the way of light. Opposites fight and join under the archway. The archway signifies everything that has happened since the war began – and everything that will happen till the end.
He is relaxed. He is ready. His mind is filled with nothing but the jubilant feeling that he gets as he thinks about his ultimate mission – to buy Jacen Solo that time. It may seem like nothing, such a little mission, to outsiders, but for those with more insight, this could be the most important mission of them all. The mission that will give the Galaxy back their hero. The jubilant feeling ignites and roars in his chest as he thinks about this; every other thought that could have been does not exist.
He is ready for them. He will succeed. He knows it. He will get that time for Jacen Solo, he will face the Yuuzhan Vong, and he will trap them. He will taste his prey's loss and the end draws nearer. That will suffice.
They are here. They have arrived. The leader seems nervous. His voice trembles (although he cloaks it well) as he speaks in Basic.
"You! You there! What are you doing there?"
He cannot see the warrior who waits in the shadow of the arch. The warrior grins as he hears his enemy's words – although they are faint and distant to his ears. He is happy to see him – the Executor, Nom Anor. He will quite happily push him and his armies back because he knows what will happen. He knows what is in store. He can feel it.
"Isn't it obvious?" His own voice chimes distantly in his ears. A chuckle accompanies the words. "I'm standing in your way."
The uncertainty and the nervousness drains from Nom Anor's face. He knows who his opponent is – Ganner Rhysode. But he only remembers the old Ganner. Ganner Rhysode has left that past self behind him; he had no choice, this place killed it.
"Stand aside! There are thousands of warriors out here! You cannot hope to stop us."
Ganner is gleeful as he hears these words. He is perfectly comfortable with the fact that there are many warriors – all bloodthirsty and anxious to kill him – waiting beyond the shadow of the arch.
"I don't have to stop you. All I have to do is slow you down." And he is proud of it. He is quite happy – excited and ecstatic even – to slow them down until he gains so many wounds that there is nothing left of him.
He will keep his promise to Jacen Solo. That lost Jedi. That traitor.
The crackle of a lightsaber fills his ears. He doesn't even remember igniting it. The humming of Anakin Solo's blade soothes him, the humming of the weapon comforts him. It becomes part of him. It is funny how a weapon can be as comforting as a mother's touch. But then, he is gone from the world of families, of mothers and fathers. He has entered the world of death and alien realms, and with it comes a sense of unorthodox happiness that no one but him can ever feel.
He knows what they want. And Force, how does it make him smile! He has the knowledge, a feeling that tells him what will happen to them. He wants them to come… and come they will. Then he will go out with flourish worthy of his name.
"You want me to move? Come one and move me."
The presence of the blade is enticing enough for them to attack. His goading only tempts them more.
"There are thousands of warriors here. You are only one man!"
He grins – that old grin that could belong to nobody except Ganner Rhysode.
"I am only one Jedi."
"You're insane!"
He laughs. He isn't insane. He isn't anything anymore; not really. Everything has been removed since he came to this place, and only one thing remains. And the executor doesn't have the wits to see it.
He laughs again. It is too decisively funny. At long last, he is free. Free to be the one thing he can only be. He is no longer a play actor, no longer a show-off. He is his one true self.
"No. I am Ganner."
He slowly waves the lightsaber, illuminating the arch around him. The purple shine lights his enemies and encases him in a soft violet glow. A protective glow that means only one thing. And he is happy to except it.
"This threshold is mine. I claim it for my own. Bring on your thousands, one at a time or all in a rush. I don't give a damn."
He waves the saber once again and raises it in front of his chest. Only two things are certain – he will buy the time needed for Jacen Solo, and the other –
"None shall pass."
Only one Jedi could manage this. Only one Jedi could have gone this far. Nothing can draw him back. This is his choice and it has been the best choice of his life. For that, he is even more exceedingly happy.
But above all, none shall pass.