Hi all! So...I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get this chapter posted. I was taking a (long) break to work on a few other stories. However, I will say that I have some new ideas for this story, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for your patience:) Let me know what you think! As always, all rights go to Bioware.
Caius woke from a dreamless sleep. It was an uncommon occurrence, one so rarely experienced that he welcomed the strange, cloudy feeling of having slept peacefully with a sigh of contentment and gratitude. He turned his head. Lana was sleeping soundly beside him, her face half-buried in blankets and her body curled into a ball on her side. Caius raised an amused eyebrow. The position didn't appear very comfortable, but he often woke to find her that way—knees drawn up to her chest, back pressed against his side, blonde hair uncharacteristically messy and strewn across the pillow. Carefully, he pulled himself into a sitting position, then slid his legs over the edge of the bed. He paused for a moment, listening, afraid that his movement would wake her. It had been quite some time since she'd gotten this much sleep—since either of them had, for that matter. He would hate to wake her.
After a moment, Caius slowly rose from the bed and tiptoed around the fire pit and across the room, where he paused in front of the closet. He had brought several robes with him from Odessen. One in particular—a simple, pitch-black outer cloak with silver accents—contained a hidden inner pocket. Caius tugged it on after donning an equally simple grey tunic and trousers. He pulled on his boots, fastened the clasps of his outer pieces of armor (these consisted of some relatively thin shoulder plates, wrist guards, and armored gauntlets, as his acrobatic style of fighting required the ability to move and stretch without impairment), and hooked his lightsabers to his belt. He paused in the doorway for a moment. Lana hadn't stirred. From there, he could just see the faint rise and fall of her chest, the gleam of her blonde hair in the grey light of the morning, the relaxed set of her brow as she slept. His lips turned upward in a small smile. Then he ruffled his hair and swept quietly out of the room and down the hallway.
It wasn't until Caius reached the den area that he stopped to check the contents of his cloak. He breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed that the materials he had gathered were still there, hidden within that secret pocket: six delicate strips of metal and two thin silver chains. Exhaling, Caius grabbed a fistful of red berries from the fridge. Then, with his other hand, he picked up a holopad from the counter and typed in a note:
Lana,
Out with Tully for a morning walk. Be back soon.
C
The morning sky was dimmed by a blanket of thick grey clouds, and although it hadn't started to rain yet, Caius assumed it would begin to pour before long. He rounded the corner of the house to see Tully peering at him from over the paddock fence. She released a lively grunt as he approached.
"Hey, old girl," Caius said. He reached up to scratch the top of her head between her horns—one of her favorite spots—and she dipped her head down, extending her neck in an effort to reach the other hand at his side. "Ah, is this what you want?" he opened his hand, and the tauntaun immediately began munching on the berries he held. Caius chuckled. "I thought so." Her warm, velvety muzzle pressed against his palm; she finished the snack in moments, then released a great breath of air against his chest, ruffling the fabric of his outer robe. He grunted and opened the paddock gate to enter. After ensuring that her water trough was full and surveying the amount of grass she had left (it turned out to be plenty, as she seemed to eat less in her old age), he rested a hand on her neck and stroked her side a few times. "You could use a bath, my friend," he said. Tully snorted loudly. "I thought not. How about a walk instead?" The tauntaun reached around and nipped at his hair, blowing hot air against his scalp. He laughed and shook his head. "Alright, you silly beast. Stay close."
Caius made his way along a game trail, listening to the thump of Tully's footsteps behind him and the occasional rustle of leaves as she nibbled at berries and foliage along the path. He plucked a blossom from a tree to his right and held it up, examining the blend of scarlet and white in its petals. Then he closed his fist; the blossom crumpled and tore beneath his fingers. After a bit more walking, Caius paused at the edge of the trail and opened his hand. The flower lay like a crumbled tombstone at the center of his palm. He furrowed his brow. Cellular level and finished product. Carefully, he reached out with his senses, down and into the broken petals, where the blossom's cells lay like so many fractured compartments. Though it was faint, Caius detected the stream of telltale energy amongst the carnage: midi-chlorians. He took another breath. In his mind's eye, he pictured the blossom as it was before he crushed it: scarlet hues fading and blending into white, as though painted by some divine artist; six petals, each rounded and delicate; a center dusted with yellow pollen. When the picture was complete, he took hold of that thin stream of Force energy by tethering it to his own. Having bolstered the cells' natural healing process, he guided the reconstruction like a needle and thread, repairing damage on an exponential level.
The process came easier than it had the night before. While he was nowhere near as efficient as Lana, Caius was encouraged to see that the blossom was completely mended in a few moments. He stared at the flower in his open palm.
Using the Force to heal was a delicate process, one that seemed both familiar and foreign at once. In battle, the Force was his ally, his servant. It was a river through which he swam: if he channeled it correctly, he could use the sheer weight of its power to crush his enemies, all raw energy and devastating blows. At other times, he used its flow to guide him. It allowed him to sense the oncoming attacks of his foes, then acted as a source of balance and focus when he struck with both lightsabers. Yes, in battle, the Force was his might; it gave him strength, focus, precision. But in healing...the Force was suddenly an intricate thing, a delicate strand requiring guidance and care. If used incorrectly, Caius could easily fail to heal someone, perhaps even worsening the damage that had already been done.
His stream of thought was interrupted by Tully, who took it upon herself to reach over Caius' shoulder and gobble the flower out of his hand. She expelled a disappointed grunt when she apparently realized that it wasn't very tasty. Caius wiped his hand on his robe, raising an amused eyebrow at the disgruntled tauntaun.
"Well, it serves you right," he said. "Do you realize how much effort I just put into that?"
Tully snorted and turned her attention to a nearby berry bush, leaving Caius to chuckle and shake his head. He continued onward, stopping periodically to pluck a leaf, tear it, and mend it again. After a time he moved on to sticks and small branches (these proved to take longer to heal, as they were larger and their cellular makeup was slightly different from leaves, but the concept remained the same). Now and then Tully returned to the trail; she announced her presence by nipping at his cloak or ruffling his hair with a warm breath, and he, in turn, would reach back to scratch under her chin or between her horns.
When he had gone far enough that the smell of the sea became more distinct and the rush of the salty air swept over him, Caius lengthened his steps. He required a specific location—somewhere that would allow him to meditate more easily, as it were. The beach, he thought, might be a good start. The trees before him thinned until he was able to spot the grey swell of the waves beyond them. Caius stopped just before the ground fell away to sand; before him, nestled between two palms, squatted a smooth, relatively flat stone, about a foot in diameter. The grass around it was clear of shrubs and debris.
This will do, he thought, surveying the cohesion of sand and grass, sea and forest. Caius glanced behind him to see that Tully had paused a few feet back. Her head was ducked as she munched contentedly on an especially healthy-looking bush. What was it I thought about her eating less in her old age? He mused. Grunting, he turned back to the scene before him. He approached the smooth stone and, as he knelt, Caius removed the strips of metal and the two chains from his robe. He set them upon the rock and examined them for a moment.
The six strands were comprised of three pairs. The first was a fiercely dark metal gathered on Yavin 4. It was so dark, in fact, that in average lighting it appeared to be onyx. It was only in direct sunlight that one could see the subtle purple hue the material contained, written through the metal like a stream of concealed energy.
He had found the second metal there, on Rishi. It was a warm, vibrant gold, not unlike the planet's sun when it wasn't concealed by the clouds.
The third and final metal came from Odessen. Like the chains he had procured, this one was silver. It was a fitting analogy of the planet it had come from: balanced, serene, and able to reflect the elements around it with sharp clarity.
It had taken Caius several months to gather those metals, as he had wanted to excavate them himself. Theron had been of great help in the matter. Lana was not easily distracted—especially when it came to Caius' whereabouts—and thus the former SIS agent had been instrumental in directing her toward "highly-classified, crucial missions that the Alliance could only entrust to her." Naturally, she was quite disgruntled upon finding that these "crucial" missions were often little more than simple diplomacy tasks, to which Theron would simply shrug and assure her that if she hadn't been there, things might have ended poorly. Luckily for the spy, her subsequent rebuttal was always cut off by Caius' timely return from his latest trip, each time carrying with him another sample of a metal he needed.
Caius was pulled back to the present as he blinked down at his task. This had to be done perfectly, delicately, lest he ruin the samples altogether. He drew a deep breath in and focused inward. Then, closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses and pictured the climax of his project.
Warmth, hope, anticipation. This has been a long time in coming, indeed.
A word continued to echo in his consciousness as the metals were lifted gently into the air and separated into their corresponding trios. Finally, his soul hummed like a whisper of the relief and joy to come. Finally.
Slowly, the two rings began to take shape, each of them an intricate braid of the three metals, the three worlds, and the two lives. He set Odessen—silver, balanced, strong—at their centers. Yavin 4's dark hue and the gleam of Rishi's sun were woven in with it like some minute tapestry, a tiny masterpiece. When the ends came together, Caius took another breath. He reached out and finished the rings by sealing them with the Force, melding the ends of the metal together and closing the bands.
Caius opened his eyes. There, before him, held in thin air with the sea behind them, floated the rings. He levitated them into his open hand and smiled faintly. They seemed to hum in his palm; it was almost as though the process by which they were forged as well as the original energy from the planets they came from had given them their own Force auras. He looped a silver chain through each one and clasped the ends for the finishing touch. I think they turned out quite well, he thought, blinking. I hope Lana approves.
Just then, Caius felt a familiar warm breath on his hood, and he quickly closed his fingers before Tully's curiosity got the better of her. "Don't you dare try and eat these," he growled, raising an eyebrow as the tauntaun settled for nibbling his hair instead. "And how is it that you're still hungry, anyway?" he grunted as he slipped the bands into the pocket of his robes. The tauntaun snorted and swept her thick tail through the air, bleating softly.
"Alright, then. Let's walk a bit further." The Sith brought himself to a standing position and, patting Tully's side affectionately, headed back into the woods, grabbing another collection of leaves and sticks to mend as he went.
One hour, twelve leaves, seven sticks, and five branches later, Caius stepped over a large stone and ducked beneath a particularly thick cluster of leaves, then rounded a bend. The trail widened; it looked as though there was a clearing ahead. He lengthened his steps until he reached the opening. His dark robes flickered in the grey morning light, a black flame, and he brushed aside another branch and looked up to see that the trail did, in fact, cut through a relatively large clearing; the grass on either side of the path was flattened in some areas, as though something had been nesting there. Caius knelt to examine the ground. The trail was muddled with tracks. It was difficult to discern how many pairs, exactly, but he estimated at least three beasts, judging by the flattened areas of grass. The prints themselves were large—about twice the size of his hands, with four long toes that came to distinct points.
Tonitrans, Caius thought as he recalled the large, raptor-like beasts that were native to Rishi. He straightened suddenly. How long had it been since he'd last seen Tully? Retracing his steps, he exited the clearing and gave a loud whistle. It was quiet for a moment, and then Caius heard the unmistakable sound of his tauntaun's bleating cry, accompanied by a chattering, reptilian snarl.
He plunged through the trees without hesitation, heading toward the sound. Tully cried out again; leaping over a fallen tree, Caius reached for his lightsabers and ignited them in unison. Their red glow bathed the forest around him in a foreboding scarlet, the steady hum of their power echoing fiercely in his hands.
He burst through the trees and into a second clearing. At the far side, Tully was lying on the forest floor, struggling to scramble away from three tonitrans, one of which had its jaws clamped around her leg. The other two towered above her, clearly preparing to strike. Each stood nearly a foot taller than Caius; their backs were covered in thick, knobby scales, and their tails were muscular enough to knock a man off of his feet. Large, hook-like talons glinted in the grey light.
Tully spotted him from across the clearing and lifted her head with a weak grunt. While they still had their backs turned, Caius leapt from the ground and landed with a snarl in between the two standing tonitrans. With practiced ease, he twirled his sabers over his head and brought one down on the beast to his right while blocking an advance from the raptor on his left. His blow struck true; the tonitran to his right crumpled to the ground, its severed head rolling a few feet away before stopping in the grass, mouth still agape in a silent roar.
Turning his attention toward the remaining two beasts, Caius rolled to avoid a vicious bite from the standing tonitran; its teeth closed on thin air with a resounding snap. The third beast released Tully's leg and lunged. Scrambling to his feet, Caius narrowly missed another bite as it went for him. He responded by slamming his lightsabers together in front of him, gathering a burst of Force energy and sending it cascading in a thunderous blow toward the beast; shrieking, it lost its footing and skidded to the ground some feet away.
He leapt again, flipping over the other raptor in a controlled arc. As he did so, he cut his lightsabers down the tonitran's spine and through its tail, then heard it collapse with a thump as he landed on the other side.
The final raptor was just getting back to its feet as he turned around. Roaring, it charged toward him. He sidestepped to dodge its attack; the beast turned and managed to catch his right shoulder, but the bite was shallow enough that it lost its hold, dragging its teeth through the fabric of his robe and into his armor and flesh before losing its grip. Caius snarled in pain and used his other arm to plunge his lightsaber into the side of the tonitran's head, driving it to the ground and killing it instantly.
Tully grunted weakly as Caius switched off his sabers and returned them to his belt. He crossed the distance between them in a few strides and knelt beside her, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder as he reached out to lay a hand on her neck. She shifted restlessly for a moment, her teeth bared in pain, until he closed his eyes and reached out to her through the Force.
"Easy," he murmured, projecting as much calm as he could. Caius stroked her neck gently and, as she began to relax, he looked over her wounds. Evidence of the tonitrans' attack lay scattered upon her body; bite marks, missing tufts of fur, and scratches marked her sides and back. Luckily, most of those were relatively minor; with time, they would heal on their own. The leg they had gotten ahold of, however….Caius' jaw tightened as he examined the jagged bite wound. Blood pulsated from a torn artery, staining the ground beneath his feet red, and he could see through muscle and sinew to the bones beneath. One of the two was clearly fractured. He shifted until he was seated more comfortably on his knees and tried to picture just how he would mend the leg. He hoped it would be enough—the pool of blood was growing steadily larger, its edges swallowing up more and more blades of grass as a storm cloud might swallow the sun.
Caius closed his eyes and rested both hands above the wound. In his mind's eye, he pictured the finished product, seeing and willing the ravaged tissues to mend. He took a breath and reached out through the Force, stretching his own energy until it met that of the midi-chlorians within Tully's bloodstream. There was so much damage to be undone—an array of tissues and vessels, similar and yet so different from the tightly structured, box-like cells of the tree branches and leaves he had been working with. Still, the concept was the same. He pressed further, deeper, struggling to bring everything together like some grand conductor of a soundless orchestra. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead and dripped from his nose. He could still feel the blood flow beneath his fingertips, could smell the metallic tang in the air. He clenched his jaw.
It wasn't working.
Cellular level and finished product. Cellular level and finished product. Caius felt his delicate influence over the midi-chlorians slipping; how could he guide so many at once, and so quickly? He leaned closer, struggling. If only Lana were here, he thought. She would be able to do this with ease.
As if on cue, he sensed a familiar presence at his side. A pair of gentle hands rested atop his own, and a warm voice whispered in his ear.
"You're forgetting to breathe, love," Lana said. Caius opened his eyes to see hers, steady and bright, looking back at him. "Tully will be alright," she assured him, "but you need to breathe. It may seem like there are a lot of things happening at once—different tissues, different levels of damage—but remember that these cells already know how to heal. You're just lending them a hand—giving them energy they wouldn't normally have access to." She pressed her lips into a small smile. "You can do this, Caius. Try drawing from something—a memory, an image…."
Turning his focus back to the wound, Caius reached once more for the midi-chlorians in Tully's bloodstream. He took Lana's advice and conjured an image in his mind's eye as he began the process anew.
Layers upon layers to keep the cold's bite at bay. Tiny hands stuffed into homemade mittens; a velvety muzzle and a hot breath against his covered palm, searching for the promised gift of winter berries. Ahead, the reaching shadow of his father cast against Hoth's pristine white, beckoning—supper is ready.
The tissues slowly began to mend. The bleeding—though reluctant—started to subside, and Caius sensed Tully's frantic heart rate as it continued to calm.
His mother's hair, the color of ebony, tied in a loose knot against her back. His nose is pink from the chill, ears aflame, hands grasping for the warm bowl of soup as she hands it to him. She clicks her tongue—boots off first, young man. He kicks them away, watches his father do the same as he laughs.
His father's laugh...It's a sound he never wants to forget: joy and openness pulled from weather-worn cheeks, normally set tight and stern.
Caius released a breath through his teeth and opened his eyes. Below him, the last stretch of Tully's wound closed, leaving nothing behind save a pale, jagged mark across her thigh. Gentle pressure on his shoulder alerted him to Lana's touch, beneath which his own wound—long forgotten until now—mended swiftly together in a rush of quiet warmth.
A smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you," he said, and sealed his gratitude with a kiss to her forehead.
Lana hummed pleasantly and rose to her feet, the first drops of rain beginning to patter against the canopy of leaves above them. "We should get her back," she said.
Nodding, Caius rested a hand briefly on Tully's neck before urging the tauntaun to stand. The beast huffed a great breath into his chest as she did so; chuckling, he returned the gesture with an affectionate rub between her curved, knotted horns. "Come on then, old girl," he murmured, and the three struck off across the grass. Occasionally, Caius reached out with his senses to further empower the tauntaun, ensuring that she was well enough for the journey home.
After a time, he glanced over at Lana. "Enjoy your beauty rest?" he asked.
"I did, thank you." Lana grinned faintly, her golden eyes flickering against the grey swath of ever-increasing rainfall. "I can't remember the last time I've gotten this much sleep." She lightly booted a stone away from their path. "What about you?"
"Mmm." Caius tipped his head up and peered into the clouds for a moment. "After my five-year nap in carbonite, I'm afraid sleeping in doesn't appeal to me like it used to."
"Afraid it will be another five years?"
"Something like that." He raised an eyebrow. "Although if you joined me this time, I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps my dreams would be...well, dreams, instead of nightmares." He closed the distance between them, and Lana gladly looped her arm through his as they walked.
"Ah," she mused, chuckling, "little do your enemies know that romanticism is your true weakness."
Caius sighed in mock disappointment and tugged his hood up against the rain. He angled his head closer to hers, near enough that she could feel the warm whisper of his breath on her ear. "I rather thought it was a strength," he rumbled.
Lana hoped that the dim skies would be enough to mask her blush as she swallowed, nearly choking on her words in a rush to conceal the whatever it was in her throat. Embarrassment, perhaps? "Don't tease," she chortled, and gave his arm an affectionate tug.
"There it is," Caius said.
So he had seen it. Or sensed it, more likely.
"Oh?" She feigned ignorance.
Caius' dark eyes warmed as he released a chuckle. "Your blush," he said. "It's proof that my romanticism is a strength."
"Well," Lana hummed, stepping over a large rock, "I'm afraid that's only true when it comes to me, my dear. Your charms won't go far on our enemies."
"No? Perhaps we should test that theory."
Lana snorted. "Please don't."
"You're only hesitant because you're afraid it will work."
"Stop it."
"What was it we said about proceeding with caution?"
Caius released a snort as he crossed his arms over his chest. "We told Verin we would help him. Besides...don't you want to look into this 'Umbra', as well?"
Lana settled one of her scrutinizing gazes on him, trying (and failing) to make him squirm. It would seem that their close connection lessened its effectiveness, as Caius could easily sense her lack of true condescension. "I do," she agreed, allowing her countenance to soften. "However, I can't say that I think this is the best way to go about it. Surely there is a more tactful approach than going waltzing through the front door…."
"Technically, it's the back door, Lana," Theron chimed in, the flickering, silver-blue glow of his hologram bathing the room around them in a sterile light. He gestured to the second hologram before them—a diagram of Umbra's base. It was a relatively simple structure: just one building placed at the center of an island less than half the size of Caius and Lana's oasis. Apparently, whoever built the facility assumed that its remote location and the choppy sea at its shores would be deterrent enough for potential intruders, as there were no walls surrounding the base. There appeared to be two entrances. The first—presumably the main entrance—was a high-level security door. Theron assured them that he would not be able to hack through without a direct connection. They could attempt to cut through it with their lightsabers, of course, but an easier and more practical option would be to enter through the back. The second entrance was a large hangar bay door; it would likely take them straight into the vehicle bay. Caius and Lana would be able to hack through the panel on that side—it was a simple interface, one that Theron had given the pair a crash course on in a matter of minutes during a bind on Zakuul. Using the back entrance would give them a chance to take the slavers by surprise and—hopefully—release any slaves held captive at the base, as well as gather any information they could find on Umbra.
Lana shifted, clasping her hands behind her back, and examined the diagram for a moment. "You're certain this is the best option, Theron?"
The agent furrowed his brow. "As far as I can tell. It would be nice to have more intel, but Jakarro and C2 could only gather so much from a few discreet passes in their ship. If you guys are sure I shouldn't make the trip over there…."
"No," Caius shook his head. "We need you on Odessen. Lana and I can handle things here," he said, glancing over at her. "Really, though. What are a couple of washed up slavers against the likes of us?"
"You and your optimism," she drawled.
He tipped his head to the side and smirked. "You know you love it."
"Alright guys, let's save that stuff for after our important strategy meetings, yeah?"
"Sorry, Theron," Caius said, although his tone betrayed his lack of remorse. "So," he continued, "I think we should go today. It's still rather early, and the rain could work to our advantage."
"I agree," Lana said. "The sooner we deal with this, the better."
Theron's image flickered again as he bent over an unseen console before him. "Sounds good. Give me a call if you need anything—assuming comms aren't jammed on that island." He turned around to address someone, then shook his head. "Ugh, I've gotta go. Koth found another nest of those wingmaw things on the Gravestone. How they keep popping up is beyond me...do you guys have any idea where that industrial strength cleaner went?" At Lana and Caius' amused expressions, he shook his head. "Ah, never mind," he grunted. "Good luck, you two. May the Force be with you." The holo flickered off, leaving the pair in relative silence, save the patter of rain outside their home.
"Well," Caius mused, "sounds like we're missing out on all the fun."
"Clearly." Lana grinned as she tugged at the collar of her traveling cloak. "Do you still have that speeder bike in the Fury's cargo bay?"
"I do." Caius flipped his hood over his head as they prepared to head out. According to Theron's information, the slavers' island was close enough to a larger land mass that they would be able to land the Fury, then take the bike across the water. They hoped to attract less attention that way. "With any luck, this weather won't create too much disturbance in the water," he continued. "It would be unfortunate if we capsized halfway to the island." Caius tipped his chin up. "Humorous, but unfortunate." He winked at her from beneath his hood as they rounded the corner and strode through the front door, out into the rain. "I hope you know how to swim."
"Oh, I hope you know how to swim, love." Lana took his arm as they made their way along the path that led to the starship. "I'm not sure if you've ever learned, coming from Hoth and all." Her golden eyes blinked up at him. "Do they even have bodies of water on that ice heap?"
Caius snorted. "Of course they do. I mean, they're all frozen, but they exist."
"Did you learn how to swim there, then?" She asked.
Caius brushed a low-hanging branch out of their way as they passed Tully's paddock. The tauntaun was resting peacefully in a makeshift shelter at the far side—he and Lana had hastily constructed it upon returning that morning. "I did—or, at least, I got my first taste of swimming. It took my father and I hours to melt the ice and pour it into an extra water trough."
"You can't be serious."
"I'm deadly serious," he grinned. "It was either that or have me tossed into one of our settlement's water purifiers. My mother would have killed us both for that one, though." He stepped over an outcropping of rock and paused for a moment before continuing: "Not that she was overly pleased about the water trough, of course. The sickness I caught after that stunt lasted nearly two weeks."
Lana chuckled at the mental image of a small, ebony-haired mess of a little Caius, floundering about in a tauntaun's water trough, of all things. "Was it worth it?" She asked.
He smiled at the memory. "Most definitely."
Lana wrapped her arms tightly around Caius' middle as they sped across the water. They were in luck: although the rain continued to pound around them, the air itself was relatively calm, and thus the waves amounted to little more than gentle, rain-speckled swells beneath the speeder's thrusters. They had found a clearing large enough for the Fury on the island behind them; now, the pair was nearly halfway to the shores of the slaver's alleged base.
She squeezed a bit tighter as she gazed into the water. Lana knew how to swim, of course, and she trusted Caius' piloting, but there was something about the abyss of the waves that had always been somewhat...unsettling for her. The sea was beautiful when viewed from solid ground: the rush of salty air, the dusting of white caps when a wave crested, the way the water reflected the morning sun or the night sky like some pristine, rippling mirror. And yet, when she was above it as she was just then, staring into the darkness, it became something else entirely: dim and foreboding and unknown, not unlike the Dark Side of the Force.
The sea, like the Dark Side, was a powerful thing. Powerful and fierce and mysterious. She imagined that if she fell in, it would crush her entirely. She would be pulled to the bottom as Light from the surface slowly faded to black. She snuggled into the slope of Caius' shoulders and closed her eyes. Calm. That's what she felt when she reached out with her senses, when she tapped lightly against his Force aura. Calm and determined and, at his core, Light. She chewed pensively on her lip as she allowed herself to become absorbed in his essence, his steadiness.
Lana had long taken pride in two things: her pragmatism, and her connection to the Force. She cared little for the petty squabbles over power which seemed to all but swallow most Sith Lords; titles and lofty chambers with imposing desks and high-backed, throne-like chairs were all well and good, but in the end they were just that: "well and good." Meaningless clichés belonging to another crusty, brooding Lord who would likely be overthrown in a matter of a few short years.
No, those things were not worth pursuing. It was the immaterial that mattered most to Lana: knowledge, understanding, discernment. She had learned that early on.
Her father had been a shrewd entrepreneur who praised money and status above family, willing to sacrifice time and affection for another rung on the ladder of Imperial prestige. Lana couldn't remember a time when he was home on Dromund Kaas for longer than a few weeks, as his work often required him to travel. He wasn't a cruel man. He was not angry or unreasonable or demanding. He was simply elsewhere, even when he was in the same room, within arm's reach.
Her mother was an entirely different story. She had a certain gentleness about her, a softness in everything she did, ingrained so deeply that even the smallest, most habitual movements were careful and methodical. Lana used to watch her flit about their apartment; she often wondered how the woman managed to carry herself so weightlessly on a world as dark and heavy as Dromund Kaas. She used to mimic her mother's movements, hoping that perhaps by repetition she would be able to bottle that serenity like a last vestige of spring water to keep with her when she inevitably left Dromund Kaas—not that she necessarily dreaded the idea of leaving the dark, lightning-plagued world. Not when mystery and adventure awaited her. Still, her repetition must have worked in some way; more than once she had been described as "serene" and "calm", especially for a Lord of the Sith. A part of her would always attribute that to her mother's influence. One night in particular would always stand out to her, would help drive and direct her when life was at its darkest. It was the evening before she left for Korriban to begin her training at the Sith Academy.
She was lying in bed, her small body curled into a ball on her side, staring at the haloed form of her mother as she stroked her hair.
"Little bird," her mother whispered her nickname into the darkness, "I want you to remember something." Lana blinked up at her, waiting, watching, as she always did. "I want you to remember that life is more than the darkness around you." She tucked a strand of Lana's blonde hair behind her ear. "You will be surrounded by people who will choose the darkness because it is easy. But that doesn't mean it's right." She sighed. "You have a keen mind, Lana," her mother said. "Search for what is right. Examine every angle. And when you find it—when you find the right way, you hold onto it. Do you understand?"
Lana buried her head further in the blankets, peering at her from over the top of them like a sparrow tucked in its nest. "But how will I know when I find it?" she asked.
She couldn't see her mother's smile, but she felt it when she pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You just will." She was quiet for a moment, then: "You have a big day tomorrow, so you should get some sleep. No more reading, okay?"
Lana begrudgingly handed her the holopad she'd been hiding under the blankets. Her mother took it with a soft, airy chuckle, placed another kiss on her daughter's forehead, then swept out of the room like a whispered breeze.
Lana remained awake for a time, mulling over her mother's words. She puzzled and hummed and frowned until her mind grew muddled with thought, until the word right simply echoed drowsily in her consciousness, and sleep finally brought her the rest of the way through the night.
Lana would continue to ponder those words for many years after. For a time, she was sure she had found it, that "right way." She had learned to command the Force, to use it as an ally. She had been relatively successful in her pursuit of knowledge and understanding. She had avoided the death grip of greed and oppression that choked the life and decency out of most Lords, and that had been enough for her—something she could build a foundation upon, at least.
But then she had met Caius, and she saw the Light he carried like a precious flame, sheltered from the storm of Darkness that threatened to quench it at every turn. Oh, he was no Jedi, of course, but he was...how would she describe him? He was simply good, at his core, where it mattered. He was indomitable and fierce and strangely kind. He was balanced, thoughtful, stoic and reasonable in the face of countless adversities. He was...centered. He was right. Right in a way she had never seen before, not in the Jedi, not in the Sith, not in the Zakuulans or the Revanites or the Voss.
This collision with Caius' being—or, rather, this connection—required Lana to re-examine herself. Who was she, really? She utilized the Dark Side in most respects, had often thought it a strength so long as it was not given the run of the place. She had begun utilizing some Light Side techniques when she healed, and had been quite successful. But what did that make her—that balance, that smattering of different methodologies? To use Light was not the same as to be Light.
And that was just the thing: what did it mean to be Light? Did she know? Did Caius? Surely he had to, as he was a prime example. For him, it didn't appear to be a matter of technique or debate or doctrine. He simply saw the way, and he walked in it. He was.
So Lana wondered as she rode with Caius above the darkness, through the torrent and over the waves: was she Light, like him? Or was she the sea—at her core, Dark, an anchor that threatened to pull him down with her and into those foreboding depths?
It took several moments for Lana to realize that they had reached the shore, and that Caius had been saying her name, a quiet worry pulling his features into an expression of concern. "Lana? What's wrong?"
She released her vice grip in an apologetic rush, allowing them both to stand. "Nothing. I'm sorry." She adjusted her rain-soaked cloak in an effort to dispel the bore of his worried gaze.
He blinked at her once, slowly, clearly unfazed but willing to let the moment go in spite of the gnawing, unsettling something that he sensed. Instead, he allowed Lana her deflection by saying, "Afraid of the water, hmm?" He forced a smirk.
"Don't insult me." Lana snorted weakly, then looked toward the building ahead of them, half-hidden by a sparse smattering of trees. "Shall we?"
"Let's." He blinked through the rain. "They haven't sent us a welcoming party, so perhaps they don't know we're here yet."
Lana followed after him as they began their ascent up the beach. "Looks like your optimism has won the day, so far."
"You shouldn't have doubted me," Caius quipped, keeping his voice at a low rumble as they drew nearer to the building. Lana hummed in amusement.
They crouched in a cluster of foliage as the extent of the base came into view. Before them was the large hangar door that Theron had pointed out on the holo. Lana spotted the console they needed to hack on the far side of the entrance; several large shipping containers were arranged outside the door, and she counted three guards ambling around the area. Judging by their shuffling gaits and slumped shoulders, it was likely that they didn't encounter many visitors. One of them leaned against the wall and pulled a pipe from his front pocket. He attempted to light it several times as he stood under the cover of the building's roof. Apparently, however, the rain had soaked through his pocket, and the pipe refused to light. The man snarled something vulgar and shoved it back into his jacket with a disgruntled scowl.
"Charming bunch," Lana murmured.
Caius glanced over at her, rain dripping from his shaggy, night-colored hair, as his hood had done little to protect him during their ride across the water. "Let's do this your way," he suggested. "Quick and quiet."
Lana nodded. The shipping containers would provide decent cover for their approach. "Alright," she agreed.
Caius unhooked his lightsabers from his belt and ducked his head, sweeping an arm out in a gesture of chivalry. "Ladies first," he said, a faint smirk passing over his features.
Lana rolled her eyes before gripping her own lightsaber and slipping out of the bushes, moving swiftly and silently for the cover of the nearest shipping container. She couldn't hear him, but she knew that Caius was right behind her. The Sith was grateful for her rather plain, ash-colored attire, as the grey melded easily with the dreary environment. She kept her hood pulled over her head as she reached her destination and pressed her back against the cold metal of the container—it had likely been used to ship slaves, as it could easily hold ten average-sized men. Lana turned to see that Caius had chosen a separate crate, allowing him to close in on a guard furthest from the entrance. He crept to the edge of his cover and glanced over at her, awaiting her move.
Lana reached out with her senses. There was a guard on just the other side of her container. She gave Caius a sharp nod, gathered herself, and swept around the corner like a gathering storm, igniting her saber as she did so. The guard didn't even have a chance to turn around; the red glow of her blade burst through his chest, and he crumpled to the ground. Across from her, Caius decapitated his foe with a swing of his two sabers. The remaining guard opened his mouth to shout. Whatever he was about to say was cut off, however, as Lana reached out with the Force to close his airway in one swift motion. The guard sputtered and spat as he was lifted into the air; Caius stepped forward and plunged one of his blades into the man's chest, killing him.
The pair moved quickly to the console beside the door. "Mind keeping a lookout?" Caius asked her as he began tapping through the display's interface. Lana nodded and held her lightsaber ready, scanning the area.
Rain fell around them as Caius fiddled with the console, grunting periodically as he reached blocks in the system.
After a time, Lana cast him a look over her shoulder. "Having trouble?"
Caius turned his head slightly and sighed. "I thought Theron said this was an easy hack," he muttered.
Lana gave an amused hum. "Here, let me have a try." They switched places, Caius with his back to the building and his lightsabers held aloft, sweeping the area with an astute gaze.
Lana tapped through the interface for a time. What was it Theron said about this kind of work-around? Her face scrunched into a look of concentration as she struggled to remember.
Caius must have heard her sigh. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can I shove my lightsaber through it now?"
"No, dear," she answered, attempting another trick that sounded vaguely like something Theron might have mentioned once. "I'm afraid that isn't a very effective method, anyway. It might shut us out completely."
Caius sighed. "It's worked in the past."
"Really."
"Yes. You wouldn't believe how many bases and other systems it worked on back when I was Baras's apprentice." He chuckled. "There is some truth to the accusation that I'm a brute, you know."
Lana snorted. "I'll tell you what: if this doesn't work, we can break the thing to pieces. We can always cut a hole in the door if—" She stopped as the locks on the hangar door clicked, and it slowly began to open. Lana gave a Caius a look of mock pity. "Sorry, honey."
He snorted. "Damn. It's been too long since I've smashed my way into an evil lair." Smirking, Lana ignited her lightsaber again, and together they entered the hangar.
The pair found with some surprise that the bay was empty of guards. A few speeders were kept inside; the faint scent of oil and scorched metal led Caius to believe that they had been ridden within the last six hours or so. Across the room, there was a door that led to an elevator shaft. Caius and Lana approached the lift and examined the access panel.
"Looks like there are three floors," Lana murmured. "This one, of course...and there's a cell block below us. The lowest level is an administration floor of some sort."
Caius glanced over his shoulder to ensure that they weren't being followed. "Alright," he said. "I say we hit the cell block first, see what the situation is. We can continue down to administration after that...it's likely they'll have some kind of master release for the cells down there."
"And, with any luck, some information on Umbra," Lana agreed. They stepped onto the lift, but before Caius could tap the "down" button, she lightly gripped his arm. His dark eyes flicked to hers. "This could be a trap, you know," she said softly.
He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I know," he answered, just as softly. "Think we should split up?"
Lana allowed her hand to fall back to her side. She ran a finger along her chin as she frowned, considering their options. "It might be wise," she said after a moment. "I can go straight to the lower floor while you clear the cell blocks. There can't be that many guards here...it's really not a very large facility."
Caius nodded. "I agree," he said. "We'll hit them on both fronts, and we might avoid a lockdown in doing so." He gave her a questioning look, his head tipped slightly to the side, as she regarded him with a strangely pensive expression. There was something lingering behind those golden eyes, something that hadn't completely faded since their trek across the waves. It worried him. "You sure you're alright?" Caius asked her.
Lana tugged her mouth into a hesitant, lopsided attempt at a smile. "It's nothing serious," she answered. "We'll talk about it when we're done here. I promise."
"If you're sure…."
"Do you trust me?"
Caius met her eyes, his dark gaze certain and gentle. "Always," he answered, and then he reached out to give her hand a brief squeeze before activating the lift that would take them to the next floor.
He left her on the elevator with a promise to keep their private comm channel on. The lift descended toward the lowest floor, and Lana disappeared from view as she descended along with it.
Caius paused before the shaft's closed door and pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Comm check," he said, keeping his voice low.
Lana's reply crackled softly over the frequency. "I read you."
"Good. Keep me updated," he whispered, readying his lightsabers. They ignited with a scraping hum; the walls around him were bathed in a familiar shade of red as he approached the door's panel and halted, awaiting Lana's signal from downstairs.
Caius closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what it was that had been bothering her. He could sense the faint, almost imperceptible hum of the rings in his pocket. Does she know? He wondered, his brow pulling low in concern. No, I don't think that's it. She would've said something. And….His frown deepened. Caius was so certain about this—more certain than he had ever been about anything in his life, really. They had discussed it once or twice; never in much detail, as they had been up to their necks in war and politics at the time. But he knew, he saw—he sensed—in those moments a certain wistfulness, a half-concealed hope that lingered within Lana. He saw it and he recognized it instantly, for it was a clear reflection of what he had been clasping within his own chest, close and restricted, like a bird within a gilded cage.
Lana's voice lifted him from the current of his thoughts and back onto dry land. "Alright, I'm at the door," she said from the room that was presumably directly below him. "Shall we?"
"Let's." With that, Caius tapped the interface before him, and the door to the cell block opened with a hiss.
The room, true to the building's outward appearance, was not very large. Eight Force cages—four on each side—lined the walls, each one emitting an eerie yellow glow. Six of them contained a single prisoner fitted with a slave collar. The furthest side of the cell block held a simple desk and a console with a large screen.
"Oy!" A male voice with a thick accent sounded from across the room. Four guards stood watching Caius, blaster rifles aimed and ready. "Looks like we've got ourselves an intruder, boys," the speaker—a man with a tattered old pirate hat and a mechanical hand—curled his lip at the Sith Lord across from him.
Caius twirled his lightsabers, reveling in the weighty balance they produced in his hands. "Let's make a deal, gentlemen," he said. "You tell me everything you know about Umbra, and I'll consider letting you live."
The man with the tattered hat snorted loudly, scuffing his boot against the metal floor. "Your fancy red swords don't scare me none," he growled. "How's about we just kill you instead? What do you say, boys?" His companions smiled hungrily.
Caius sighed. "Have it your way," he muttered, and then he leapt from the ground in an explosion of pure, unfettered Force energy.
Lana ducked behind a stack of metal crates as a slew of blaster fire pelted the wall behind her. Well, we're off to a great start, she thought, tightening her grip on her lightsaber as she prepared for another attack.
She could hear more fighting over the comm as Caius wreaked havoc upstairs. "How's it going down there?" his voice echoed in her ear, accompanied by the unmistakable clash of his lightsabers.
"Oh, about as well as you'd expect," Lana replied. She rolled out of cover and came to a stand, immediately raising her blade to deflect the oncoming hail of lasers.
Caius grunted, his breath coming in short hitches as he fought. "So, not well, then," he quipped. "Do you need me to come down and rescue you?"
Lana snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." She focused her energy on deflecting the shots, allowing the Force to guide her and keep her centered. Two of the six men fell as their own lasers came hurling back at them. The other four spread out, taking cover behind desks and crates across the room. Lana took advantage of the pause in blaster fire to press forward, leaping over a holoterminal and bringing her lightsaber down on one of the slavers' crates. The man stood and raised his weapon, but she slashed again, taking off his arm below the elbow. His pained bellow was cut short when Lana stabbed him through the chest.
Two of the remaining three slavers cast down their blasters and took up vibroswords instead, while the third gave them covering fire from behind a desk. Lana eliminated him, however, when she cast lightning in his direction. His body crumpled beneath the force of the electric onslaught. Free to face the other two at close quarters, Lana deflected the first man's blow with ease, causing him to stumble backward. The second slaver swung his blade high; she rolled out of the way, then came back up just as swiftly. His back was toward her; she decapitated him in one smooth stroke.
His footing restored, the final slaver charged at Lana with an echoing yell. Their blades clashed; the vibrosword's electric energy field was just strong enough to keep it from being sliced in half by Lana's lightsaber. She slid her weapon up and kicked hard. The slaver's feet were swept out from underneath him, and he landed on his back in a rush of lost air.
Lana kicked his weapon away and pressed her boot against his chest, her lightsaber hovering precariously close to the vessels in his neck. "Tell me how to release the slaves upstairs," she demanded.
"It's—" The man swallowed, his pale eyes wide and frantic. He looked young—no older than twenty. "The release is on the console behind us. You have to deactivate the failsafe upstairs before you hit it, though—"
"Or?"
"Or...or the whole place will blow."
Lana cleared her throat and glanced at the console. "Caius, did you get that?" She asked.
"I heard," he confirmed, his voice coming in much easier than before. He must have finished off his opponents, as well. "I'm deactivating it now."
Lana nodded, although he couldn't see her, and she glanced back down at the slaver. "What do you know about Umbra?" When he hesitated, she leaned closer, her blade burning a shallow rift in the skin just above his collar bone.
"Ah! Okay, okay!" he shouted. "I don't...I really don't know much. He never showed his face, never came here in person."
"How unfortunate," she growled, her voice dangerously low.
The man was shaking from fear. "Wait! Wait, ah, there might be some information on that console, too. Some logs, some recorded conversations. I swear, that's all I know. That's all." He stared up at her. "Please don't kill me, miss. Please. I'll get out of this business, I'll find honest work, please…."
She stared at him for a moment, her golden gaze sharp and unrelenting. Caius would spare him. She knew that. But this man was a liability; he would likely say anything to save his skin now, seeing how easily she had dispatched the rest of his group. She had to make the rational decision, the pragmatic decision, because that's what she always did. Because it was right.
Wasn't it?
Lana raised her lightsaber as she prepared to strike, but she found herself hesitating. Memories rang through her mind, echoed within her chest.
I think it's in my nature to believe that some things can change for the better, if we give them time and effort. The Empire, Arcann, slavers….
You will be surrounded by people who will choose the darkness because it is easy. But that doesn't mean it's right.
She froze, a trickle of sweat running down her brow, every instinct she had screaming at her to end it, to stick with what she had always done because it was safe and practical and known.
Caius' voice flickered over the comm: "Lana?" His tone was hesitant.
And that was just the thing: what did it mean to be Light?
"Damn it," she hissed as she finally lowered her lightsaber. She glared down at the man. "Get out of here," she said. "Go. Before I change my mind." Gasping, the man scrambled away from her and sprinted headlong for the elevator shaft without a backward glance.
Lana remained for a moment, standing rigid, and then she switched off her lightsaber with a heavy sigh.
And when you find it—when you find the right way, you hold onto it. Do you understand?
"I'm trying," she breathed, before she could stop herself.
Caius stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching as the last two captives climbed aboard a speeder bike and started the engine. The younger one—Seph, he believed his name was (it turned out that Verin had, apparently, told the truth)—gave him a grateful smile before looking ahead and speeding out of the hangar.
He and Lana had ensured that each vehicle had the coordinates to the nearest settlement programmed into their systems; the riders would be able to make it there in less than two hours, assuming they stayed on course.
"So, what was it you were trying to do?" Caius turned to Lana, who was standing beside him, close enough that their arms brushed when she shifted to look up at him.
"Oh, I was...trying to find the right way," she said simply. "I'll explain on the way home."
"Home," his dark eyes warmed as he echoed her, savoring the gravity of that one word. "It's nice to be able to say that."
Lana nodded. She leaned into his shoulder, smiling faintly. "I still can't believe we accomplished this so easily," she admitted. "I blame it on your optimism."
Caius hummed pleasantly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You should try it sometime, you know."
"Perhaps you're right."
He chuckled. "Ready to head back?"
It was then that the alarm went off, just before she could answer. The hangar door slammed closed with decisive force; red, blaring lights above them flashed in the sudden darkness, and the two Sith sighed in unison.
Caius groaned. "Looks like we spoke too soon," he muttered.
They ran to the hangar door, hoping to cut their way out. Caius ignited his blade and plunged it through, but the door—now sealed with an extra lockdown layer—was so thick that even a lightsaber would take a painfully long amount of time to provide them with an exit.
"Come on," Lana took off toward the elevator. "We need to get back to the administration floor...we should be able to release the lockdown from there. We don't know how much time we have before this whole place blows."
Caius sprinted after her. They made it to the elevator and tapped the interface; the lift grated downward, painstakingly slow.
"Shit," Caius spat. "I don't understand—I thought we deactivated the consoles in the right sequence."
"Me, too." Lana scowled, pacing back and forth on the elevator's floor as they moved. "Well, it was obviously on a timer. It's possible we were given the wrong information, or we may have tripped it some other way…." She sighed. "In any case, what matters now is that we shut it down before—"
The first rumble of an explosion below them cut her off. She looked to Caius, opened her mouth to say something, but another explosion shook the lift so fiercely that the platform was knocked loose. Lana felt the lift fall away, taking Caius with it, and then the world around her crumbled as stone and metal and darkness buried them both.
So, a note about Lana: I've decided to explore her character a bit more in this chapter (and the chapters to come). That said, I'm especially interested in how her relationship with Caius—a VERY Light side character, as far as Sith go—might affect her views on the Force and her perception of herself / what she believes is right. She is an exceptionally loyal character, I think, and her desire for knowledge and understanding allows her a certain flexibility when it comes to the "Sith way" and/or what she has experienced before and during the war against the Eternal Empire. I realize this might require me to deviate a little from how she is portrayed in the game (although I am learning as I go, so who knows where we might end up). Anyway, I suppose I'm just asking that you would bear with me as I explore her character (and Caius' character, but I think I have more leeway when it comes to him). Above all, I want to make sure that I am portraying them in a realistic way, and I want to do them justice. Thanks again for reading :)
