Chapter 3

When they woke, neither of them acknowledged that anything odd had happened. If anything, Julienne avoided eye contact even more than usual before they set off on the day's hike.

True to their word, the ragtag group of undersurface dwellers led them right out where they had a good view of the landing platform and the Sith Infiltrator. Shemric blinked and shielded his eyes at the brightness after days underground. It had been another full day since they had met the odd survivors and he had lost track of the amount of time they spent underground.

"My Master knows we are here," said Julienne. She was looking down at the platform. "He will be waiting."

"Good luck, then," said the first man they had met back undercity, who had led the escort. "One less Sith Lord is never a bad thing." He smiled at Julienne's frown and then disappeared.

"Well, no sense waiting for him to send someone after us," said Julienne. She began to walk down the mountain of debris toward the foot of the platform. Shemric began to center himself in waking meditation exercises, hoping to find that greater awareness in the Force that he had been tapping into lately. Surprisingly he felt it snap into place and then heard a faint voice, The Living Force cannot be forced, Shem. Let it guide your actions and then you can guide its path.

Julienne looked like a skinny, teen-aged girl now that they were out in the light, about to face a Sith Lord in all his power. Shemric said a silent prayer to the God of his parents and followed her up the platform steps.

"So, my failed apprentice, you return and with a Jedi for an ally that stinks of goodness and light," said the dark figure who was waiting for them in the shade of the Sith Infiltrator's wing.

"You mistake me, master," said Julienne. "I brought him to you, to do with as you please."

Shemric frowned but did not move or take any sort of defensive stance. He had half-expected this and decided he would come anyway. He could still flee if they both attacked, or fight if she stayed out of the fight. Whatever she said, she held no love for her master.

"So you think this will bring yourself back into my good graces," said the man. "Fine. Then kill him for me and we shall see."

Shemric still refused to move. He could not see the man's face, but a Dark-side miasma rolled off him in waves; he could only imagine how powerful he was.

"I fear he is beyond my skill, master," said Julienne.

A snort of derision from the Sith Lord made Shem's skin crawl. He was glad he had held tightly to his extended Force-awareness before they approached; otherwise he might be shaking in his boots.

The man, if he could still be called that, stepped out from the shadow of the Sith Infiltrator and approached. He was tall, but no taller than Shemric himself, though much broader. He wore no armor but his black clothes and had a long-handled lightsaber in his hand. Shemric was not sure if it was a dual-bladed or not. Most striking was the man's face and hairless head. His skin was cracked and furrowed like a large mud puddle after the rain has been dried away. His eyes look out of sunken pits so black they looked like a silly mask, but the eyes themselves were a horrid yellow color striated with blood-red veins. All in all he looked as horrible as the name Darth Fright suggested, but instead of being terrified, Shemric had to stifle a giggle.

"No wonder they call you Darth Fright; decent people probably run from the sight of your face in terror," said Shemric and then smiled at his own joke. It felt very odd. Part of his mind said he should be running scared; the other part found the state of the man's face pitiable.

Clearly the joke was unexpected. "You think to mock me?" said the man in surprise.

"No, I was simply observing that your face looked like a mud pie I once left on the back step of our home," said Shem. Again, the giggle nearly surfaced. This was insane.

The look on the Sith's face became more horrible, if that was possible. "I would threaten you with all manner of harm, youngling, if I thought you would last long enough to make it worth my while. If your master's skill was any indication, this should only take a minute." The first attack was on him in an instant, red blade meeting Shem's silver blade. Crazy sparks flew off the collision, but they only seemed to harm the Sith, who stepped back with a howl.

Those ghastly eyes regarded him in surprise and then he abruptly stuck out the hand not holding the saber and lightning flew from his fingertips. Shemric caught it on his blade and felt the electricity course through him and ground out. It was a very odd sensation. He was quite happy for the odd crystal the man back in the city had given him.

Now the Sith was looking at him very strangely. "If your master had such surprises up his sleeve, he might have survived; then again, probably not. He was not very skilled at combat. I was not impressed."

"Master Keddis was a skilled negotiator who stopped many conflicts before they ever started," said Shem. They had started to circle and he found the Sith Lord's hesitancy very strange. "He was never known for his martial skills. Do not congratulate yourself too much for defeating him." The Sith's eyes narrowed and Shemric wondered why he had said that. Clearly following the will of the Force never meant things would go logically.

Abruptly the Sith stopped his side pacing and attacked again, the series of blows driven by anger, which pulsed around him like a hot furnace. He answered the Sith with Sorensu, serenity and efficient defense as Shemric calmly met the attacks and deflected them away. Still, not every attack could be misdirected and the ones he had to block were like having someone slam his arm with a hammer. Force met Force and each time the blades met those strange sparks flittered away, stinging the Sith and not bothering Shemric at all. The sparks were about the only thing keeping the fight even.

Shemric sensed the Force push that came next, but could do nothing to deflect it, so he caught the edge of the wave and rode it loosely as he flew backward toward the edge of the platform. Shemric flipped and was about to land lightly when a blast of Force lightning caught him and hurled him off the platform. He found himself howling as his graceful flight turned into a messy landing in a bush that cushioned the impact but shredded the non-armored parts of his uniform and left a slash on his cheek that dribbled blood into his mouth. He supposed that he should have closed the visor on his helmet, but it felt confining.

He came to his feet and considered. He could flee now. He might survive. However, the Jedi Council would not know of the threat here, nor the survivors who could be helped. Somehow, the Force had to see him through this one. He ran at an angle to where he had left the platform and leaped; his landing turned to a roll as sheet lightning passed over him and lifted the hair on his head. The next blast he caught on the saber and it grounded harmlessly a moment before the cracked-face nightmare was on him again, pounding with his saber in broad, two-handed strokes. Makashi would not help here and he settled back into Sorensu again, calmly meeting the onslaught and backing up at a measured pace.

Through the Force, Shemric sensed the older man's fatigue despite the intensity of his attack. The long hours of running the emergency stairways of the Jedi Temple were a blessing to him now as he felt a surge of confidence. The Sith must have sensed it too because he made a hideous sound that must have been a laugh and attempted to blast Shemric with lightning. At that range the Force-driven power of the electricity that coursed down his blade, through his body and into the platform was enough to knock him onto his back. As the red Sith blade descended, Shemric considered that he could not quite make his arm move correctly to block it. The arc of the blade stopped abruptly when it connected with another stream of Force-lightning that knocked the large Sith to the side several feet and down to one knee.

The man's baleful glare was not directed at Shem, but at Julienne who approached with her own lightsaber lit.

"So you wait until I am tired and weak, my useless apprentice," said the man. "Typical. You were never meant for greatness. All those instructors went on about your potential … bah … wasted." He leaped from the crouch then, not at her, but at Shemric who managed to get his feet under him and parry. The next became easier and then the next until he felt somewhat his old self. Just as they practiced, Julienne centered the Dark Lord between them and they began to attack him in turn.

Fright's breath came in wheezes now, but the Dark Force-power he threw at them was terrifying. A twist of his handle and his blade lengthened by half a meter and he used the extra distance to keep them back, but now he was on the defensive. They attacked relentlessly, both scoring burns and cuts on the older man, but twice he blasted them back to give himself breathing room.

They closed on him again, much like they had the many creatures of the underground and then attacked simultaneously. This time the man used something that combined lightning and push powers in a way that shocked them and blasted them off their feet. Shemric rolled and came up crouching, saber in front, but the Sith was headed for Julienne and not him. Exhaustion seized him as he came to his feet and tried to tell his legs to run, but he just stood and shook.

The Sith was driving Julienne back to the edge of the platform and seemed to know his apprentice's weaknesses and was exploiting them. Shem made his legs start moving and then started a pathetic shuffled that gained speed as he felt the Force flow more strongly in him. The Sith snarled when Shem attacked, probably irritated that he had not finished off one opponent before the other managed to return. With Shem joining the fight, Julienne counterattacked and they pressed the Dark Lord until Shem was knocked back with a fist to the face.

The Sith had not attempted any physical attack since the fight had begun so Shem had let down his guard and left an opening. He staggered back with blood streaming from his face and fell over on his back, expecting the worst. However, the Sith ignored him and attacked Julienne again until he drove her to her knees. He saw the Sith's blade rise and could think of nothing but to throw his own saber like a spear. He thought it had worked as the silver blade flashed towards the dark man's back, but at the last moment Fright leaped aside and rolled to his feet to meet Shem's eyes. Death stared him in the face and it came as no surprise when a blast of lightning knocked Shemric back down as he had been struggling to rise. His muscles contracted involuntarily and he came to rest on his side, oddly enough looking across the surface of the landing platform to meet Julienne's eyes. It was hard to say if there was regret or just pain there, but his time of wondering ended when he was jerked off his feet.

Somehow seeing that repugnant face close up made it worse, and the Sith's breath smelled like sulfur and decay. The man's grip on Shem's collar choked him, but instead of killing Shem, he spoke.

"I find you to be a worthy opponent, youngling," said the Sith. "With a little training I could make something of you. How would you like to be my new apprentice? I find my current one something of a failure."

A last tremor shook Shemric and then he flexed his hand to see if it was working. Had the man just killed him, Shemric could not have stopped him, but now the Sith monster had brought his enemy within striking range. Shemric slid his small wrist knife out of its sheath and drove it under the man's chin. The Sith died before surprise or anything else could register on his face and Shemric crumpled to the ground and stared at the blue-green sky for long moments before attempting to roll over.

Walking took a supreme effort, but he managed to stagger over and kneel next to Julienne. She was lying with her eyes closed and he put a finger to her throat to check for a pulse. It was slightly fast but strong and she reached up and gripped his hand with a moan.

"I …do not think … that went … very well," she said. She rolled off her side to look up at him. "How is it that you are alive and him dead? I saw you throw your blade and him blast you with lightning. That was silly. The throwing part." That seemed to exhaust her store of words.

"He picked me up and asked if I wanted to be his new apprentice," said Shem. "He brought me in close and I killed him with a hidden knife from a wrist sheath." She closed her eyes and blew out a deep breath.

"So now I have you to thank for being alive … again," she said. "This is intolerable."

Shemric barked out laughter and staggered to sit down awkwardly. His brain was having a hard time giving his body orders. "You still have to fly me off this planet. Then we will be even again."

"We will never be even," she groaned and tried to sit up. "You will keep getting me in trouble and then claiming you had to save me from it." She managed hands and knees and then pushed herself up. "We need to move. Who knows what orders Fright left for his people. A single trooper with a pistol could take us both."

"Speak for yourself," he said. Shemric stood with considerable effort. "Maybe two troopers with pistols." She grunted and almost smiled before starting to stagger over to the Sith Infiltrator. She keyed in the entry code and laughed when the door slid open.

"He did not even change the code," she mumbled. "I wish I could have laughed in his face just once before he died." The Sith ship was twice as large in the hull as a Penetrator and functioned as a private craft for many Sith Lords. It had two piloting seats but could be flown by one person and was more heavily armed than a Penetrator while being less maneuverable. The main cabin held bunks for four and seats for two and was just tall enough for Shemric to walk, though just barely. Julienne sat and efficiently brought the craft's engines up to speed.

They took off without anyone questioning them and then circled once; Julienne targeted her former master's body and burned it to a laser-charred crisp. One more pass and only a dark stain was left on the landing platform. Shemric thought it odd but her face did not show any signs of satisfaction; it was just a mess to be cleaned.

She piloted the ship smoothly out of the planet's atmosphere and for the first time in days, Shemric sat back and relaxed. For the moment, he was safe and not in danger of anything but Julienne's caustic tongue. That release of tension led to him thinking about the mission and ultimately back to the loss of his master. Keddis had taken him when none other would have anything to do with an overaged, unwanted youngling who made other Jedi uncomfortable.

He was not yet a Knight, but more than a Padawan it seemed. He doubted there would be a long line of Masters ready to take on someone like him. He focused and let all his doubts flow out of him until he was completely calm. Whatever happened, he was still Shemric Norm and his parents' son. If they kicked him out of the Order, then he could always go back and find his family. He had no intention of going off to serve in some obscure Jedi service industry.

He sensed their transition to Lightspeed and felt Julienne making her way back to his position.

"Well, we are on our way to Bonadan," she said. "You should not have any issues finding a ride back to the Core from there."

He nodded thanks. He would have to figure something out. He certainly did not have money for passage to anywhere.

"I have a medkit here," she offered as she pulled a trunk down from a shelf where it was attached. "Let's see what we have wrong with us." She told him to remove his armor and robes and prodded him until he obeyed. He had several burn marks on his arms and side that she could not help so she pulled his shirt over his head against his protests. She was not particularly gentle, nor was she rougher than she needed to be.

"No wonder I could not catch you running up those stairs," she said. "You are all skin and bones wrapped up with a little muscle here and there." Shemric immediately felt overly self-conscious, but he met her eyes and her smile completely disarmed him. She really was quite pretty and her dark eyes reflected his own image back at him. She reached across and put her hand on his arm in a completely different way. Her touch felt hot on his cool skin and he shivered once without being able to look away. "Thank you," she said. That was all. He held her eyes until she looked away in embarrassment. It was not a very Sith-like thing to do.

To his surprise then, she began removing her own robes until she had stripped down to a black, skin-tight bra top and compression shorts, whereupon she shooed him off the bed and began to direct him where she needed patching. She seemed quite calm about it, but several times she made sarcastic comments that seemed to betray how nervous she was. She, too, had a number of saber burns as well as plenty of scrapes that took some time to clean and cover. Eventually, he managed to finish, but his face felt red and hot.

"That was nicely done," she said. "I admire your focus." She still wore that smile like she was laughing inside.

Shemric found that he had thumped with his back against the cramped bulkhead, but that still did not put him out of her arm's reach and she tugged him by the belt until his thighs bumped against hers as she sat on the edge of the med-bunk.

"Does not the gallant prince get to claim his kiss from the damsel he so fearlessly saved?" she asked in a quiet voice. Her hand snaked up his arm, behind his neck until she grasped his hair and pulled his face down toward hers. Shemric felt oddly out of the body like it was happening to another person until their lips met and new sensations he had never imagined assaulted his senses.

Their hands and arms moved of their own accord, touching. Shemric felt like a bumbling fool, but sensednervousness in Julienne that he suspected meant she was no more experienced at this than he. A few moments more and they both came up for breath, staring at each other and breathing hard. Without a word they shared a look and as if by some Force connection or just an understanding of the other's feelings, they stopped abruptly, looked away and then parted quickly. Shemric grabbed his shirt, robes and escaped to sit in the cockpit and watch the stars fly by in hyperspace.

As he sat and thought, part of him regretted stopping and part of him was glad. When Julienne finally came forward to sit next to him quietly in the other piloting seat, she acted as if she was checking on their progress, but then she stopped and sat, mirroring his solitude.

She was the one who finally broke the silence.

"I am not going to tell you I am sorry," she said. "I have always been a little curious, but the opportunity never really presented itself."

"That was what it was, an opportunity?" he said and then regretted it; he sounded sulky.

She gave him one of her derisive snorts. "Oh, stop. Do not get all offended. You enjoyed that as much as I did and were equally caught up in the moment."

"Then why did you stop?" he asked in a more neutral voice.

"Because I realized it would have meant more to you than it did to me," she said. "I was curious; you were ... more emotionally involved. You have feelings for me."

"I see," he said and in a way he respected her more because it meant she had been selfless and not taken advantage of their odd situation to satisfy her curiosity. It stung a little for her to recognize that he had feelings for her that she did not return, but he knew he was being overly romantic about things that were just not there, and impossible if they were.

She nodded as if he had said this all out loud and continued. "Do not be too offended. It is not that I feel nothing for you. I respect you a great deal. You are not what I thought I would find when I first met a Jedi. Your motivations are not simplistic and you are not an idiot. You have given me much to consider."

"So come back to Coruscant with me," he blurted.

She chuckled and he started to bristle before she laid a hand on his arm. "I'm not ready to give up all for which I have worked on an infatuation with a Jedi who is supposed to be my enemy. I would rather we part as friends, Shem. I have not had one of those since I was taken from my home."

Shemric looked over in surprise. It was the first time she had used his name. For a small moment they regarded each other and a tiny window to her soul opened up and he sensed her extreme loneliness. The moment passed quickly and she moved to withdraw her hand. Shemric quickly covered it with his own.

"It sounds like Sith Academy and Jedi Temple are similar in at least one way," he said. "I have many acquaintances, a few mentors but no friends there either."

She met his eyes again and nodded.

The stars passed by at faster-than-light but neither of them noticed.