Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or Rick Riordan.
Enter Luke Skywalker, on Sartinaynian.
Luke. [aside] These Dathomirians are really starting to annoy me. They should have died should have died at least three times since I first encountered them. But somehow they keep surviving no matter how many times I kill them. They never seem to stay dead more than two hours. I've only managed to survive this long because the Dathomirians can't seem to kill me either. Their claws can't cut my skin. Their teeth break any time they try to bite. But this can't go on forever. As hard as I am to kill, eventually they will find a way.
Luke pauses at the top of Bleaker Street, an area just over Rimcee Street.
The Braxant sector. Something tells me I've been to here before. This planet has some connection to Mara, the only being he can remember from my past. My memory of her is frustratingly dim. Vergere promised I would see her again and regain my memory . . . if I succeeded in my journey.
As Luke ponders whether to leap into the sea, where he might be energized, he hears the approach of the Dathomirians.
Kriff. For the millionth time, I wish their weren't so good. They said they can smell me because I'm a demigod, the near-human son of some old Imperial god. Nothing I do seems to snuff out that scent.
Luke runs up the hill, but only manages to reach a cliff; in other words, a dead end. Cursing, Luke retrieves his lightsaber (disguised as a stylus). Using the Force, he wills the stylus to assume its true form: a green-bladed lightsaber.
Enter Baritha, a thin Dathomirian with graying hair and green eyes.
Baritha. There you are.
Baritha holds out a tray with sweetcake.
Try one?
Luke fends off Baritha with his lightsaber.
Luke. Where's your sister?
Baritha. Oh, put the sword away. You know by now that even Adegan crystal can't kill us for long. Have a sweetcake. They're on sale this week. And I'd hate to kill you on an empty stomach.
Enter Barukka, a blue-eyed Dathomirian.
Barukka. Baritha. I told you to sneak up on him and kill him.
Baritha. But Barukka . . . can't I give him a sample first?
Barukka. No, you imbecile. [to Luke] You've led us on quite a chase, Luke Skywalker. But now you're trapped. And we'll have our revenge.
Baritha. The sweetcake is only three dataries. Grocery department, aisle three.
Barukka. Baritha. Consumart was a front. You're going native. Now put down that ridiculous tray and help me kill this Jedi. Or have you forgotten that he's the one who vaporized Garowyn?
Luke backs up.
Luke. Look, ladies, we've been over this. I don't even remember killing Garowyn. I don't remember anything. Can't we just call a truce and talk about your weekly specials?
Baritha. Can we?
Barukka. No. [to Luke] I don't care what you remember, son of Vader. I can smell Garowyn's blood on you. It's faint, yes, several years old. But you were the last one to defeat her. She still has not returned from the Maw. It's your fault.
Luke. How about we call it a draw? I can't kill you. You can't kill me. If you're Garowyn's sisters, like the Garowyn who turned people to stone, shouldn't I be petrified by now?
Barukka. [disgusted] Jedi. They always bring that up, just like our mother. "Why can't you turn beings to stone? Your sister can turn people to stone." Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, boy. That was Garowyn's curse alone. She was the most hideous one in the family. She got all the luck.
Baritha. Mother said I was the most hideous.
Barukka. Quiet. As for you, Luke Skywalker, it's true you bear the mark of Quinlan Vos. That makes you a little tougher to kill. But don't worry. We'll find a way.
Luke. The mark of what?
Baritha. Quinlan Vos. Oh, he was gorgeous. Dipped in the Pool of Knowledge as a child, you know, so he was invulnerable except for a tiny spot on his ankle. That's what happened to you, dear. Someone must have dumped you in the Pool of Knowledge or fed you water from the Font of Power and made your skin like beskar. But not to worry. Jedi like you always have a weak spot. We just have to find it. And then we can kill you. Won't that be lovely? Have a sweetcake.
Luke glances at the cliff, considering jumping.
Reconsidering? Very wise, dear. I added some Dathomirian blood to these, so your death will be quick and painless.
Luke. You added your blood to the sweetcakes.
Baritha. Just a little. A tiny nick on my arm, but you're sweet to be concerned. Blood from our right side can cure anything, you know, but blood from our left side is deadly . . .
Barukka. You dimwit. You're not supposed to tell him that. He won't eat the sweetcakes if you tell him they're poisoned.
Baritha. [stunned] He won't? But I said it would be quick and painless.
Barukka. Never mind. We'll kill him the hard way, just keep slashing until we find the weak spot. Once we defeat Luke Skywalker, we'll be more famous than Garowyn. Our patron will reward us greatly.
Luke. Before you slash me to bits, who's this patron you mentioned?
Barukka. [sneers] The goddess Abeloth, of course. The one who brought us back from oblivion. You won't live long enough to meet her. But your friends below will soon face her wrath. Even now, her armies are marching spinward. On Empire Day, she'll awaken, and the demigods will be cut down like . . . like . . .
Baritha. Like our low prices at Consumart.
Barukka. O!
As Barukka storms at Baritha, Luke throws the tray of sweetcakes aside and cuts Barukka in half with his lightsaber. Then he raises the tray so that Baritha sees her reflection.
Baritha. Garowyn.
Already, Barukka begins to reform.
Barukka. Baritha. You fool. That's just your own reflection. Get him.
Luke slams the tray into Baritha, knocking her out. Then, before Barukka can reform fully, he leaps off the cliff to the surface of Sartinaynian below.
Exit all.
