Star Wars: The Old Republic
Marr
~Chapter Thirteen~
We live as long as we are remembered…
The council chambers faded and with it the triumph of my ascension.
Returned to the present, the protective mantle of the past gave way to the Force tide. To my surprise, I had overcome the disorientation I'd come to expect. The current ebbed around me, like the depths of a cool Alderaanian lake and I was reminded of a happier time. The will of the Force banked on my nostalgia, using it to impel me toward the void. The nudge was subtle but no less determined to guide me toward the fate that claimed most Sith.
The void loomed on the horizon, a pool of indigo swirling with ribbons of ultramarine and cerulean blue. If I listened intently enough, I could hear the music of its vibration and it reminded me of the electromagnetic frequency of every ringed planet I had reason to survey. The eerie treble chimes mingled with the deep thrumming bass, spoke of the Force, light and dark entwined.
No matter how fierce or gentle its demand I would not surrender. I could not. I was of no use in the void, and while death deprived me of much, it would not rob me of my purpose.
The Force pressed me again—the urgency to expel me from this plane growing ever more insistent.
"I will not yield!"
My voice boomed across the ocean and vanished into the void. For the briefest of moments, I thought I'd heard a response, the voice soft yet commanding—"I will not fight you…"
The Force tide would not allow me to dwell on the voice or the resignation it intoned. I dismissed it as a hallucination and turned my back to the void.
The burden of my defiance set into my shoulders. I grew heavier and more tired.
Curiosity drove me to look over my shoulder to measure my progress, and to my dismay, I'd gained no advantage from my efforts, if anything, the void appeared closer.
I roared my frustration. Impatient and desperate I began my efforts anew, only to drain myself further. The will of the Force had a new ally in my fatigue, and my confidence in my own strength wavered.
In life, I ignored such impulses. I had no time to wax over my diminishing humanity, but here, time exists in abundance and memories are weapons. Perhaps they serve as sustenance as well.
The darkness had eroded the man I was—and continued to undermine the residue of that man. I began to understand the war wasn't solely between myself and the will of the Force, but between it and the darkness. I was merely a soldier, caught between the dark values that served me in life and the impractical ideals that sought to condemn me to the abyss for my choices. I would not regret, repent, or recant.
If I summoned the darkness to fight for me, it would devour the last vestiges of humanity I clung to. I had no strength left to control it. Only chaos would survive. The darkness was my one advantage—a last resort I must not squander—only during a moment of great need, would I make that sacrifice, no sooner.
To fight the will of the Force, I would need to attack. Holding ground was no longer enough—but the only arsenal at my disposal was memory. Not every decision I'd made led to the corruption of my nature—a fact I was determined to prove. Not every road was dark. There had been a light once. It was dim and weak, but I recognized something of myself in its persistence.
I remained still. Tranquility carried me further than the thrashing effort I'd expended before. Fighting did nothing. This was not a battle, but a game of chess.
I had fallen into Taxon's habit of relying on physical prowess alone and the will of the Force capitalized on my weakness. On a plane where the corporeal does not exist, I had been labouring under a crippling disadvantage. Slowly, I began to advance toward my desire—a shimmering world I had grown to hate in life.
No bigger than a pin point of starlight, the speck beckoned to me across the deep. Each step brought me closer, and the completion it promised nourished me. My strength returned and with it renewed vigor and resolve. The will of the Force would not win. If there was a way to escape the looming void, I would find it.
I drifted along the now familiar shore that was the past. The darkness enveloped me and the guiding star exploded to become many. White hot streaks blazed past me as I plummeted across the world's thermosphere. Black became blue, then fuschia and orange, the skies brightening until I was met with the golden bands of an Alderaanian sunset.
The shuttle quaked and the instrument panel blacked out. I recognized this moment as my first visit to Alderaan, nine years after ascending to the Dark Council.
I didn't need sensor readings to see the jagged range of snow-capped mountains ahead. I pulled up sharp. The shuttle's belly grazed the peak.
The fuselage groaned. The stench of fuel told me I'd ripped open the fuel tank. I swore under my breath. The ship swayed and lurched.
Fuel gushed from the shuttle like blood through a sliced artery. The engines sputtered and stalled. I was turned on my head. Blood pounded in my skull and I growled. The shuttle spiralled and wouldn't respond to my command.
I reached out with the Force to right the vessel and hold it steady. The ship skipped twice across a slushy plain and collided with a mound of phosphorescent purple. Gel and guts exploded across the viewport like crushed grapes, but the shuttle continued to rush forward. I tucked my head against my chest and held myself. Several seconds passed before I realized the shuttle had stopped.
I pawed at the seat belt and threw it back to escape the cockpit. Sparks shot through the console and the stench of fuel hung in the air. I didn't have much time.
The shuttle had taken more damage than I'd thought. The ceiling had collapsed and as I rushed toward the hatch, I was forced to crouch. Hoses swung loose and jets of foggy steam filled the compartment. I threw myself against the hatch, forcing it just enough to see that the shuttle was impacted by a mound of moist clay.
Fuel oozed toward me from the aft compartment and flames engulfed the cockpit. I drew my lightsaber and thrust it through the portside wall, grinding the blade through the durasteel, to forge a new opening.
Cool air rushed inside, feeding the flames. I threw my supply pack ahead of me and tumbled through the smouldering exit I'd carved. I rolled to my feet and put as much distance between myself and the burning shuttle as the slushy soil would allow. The flames and fuel met, the resultant force throwing me forward. My skull vibrated inside my helmet and my ears rang. I tumbled and rolled, finally coming to a stop at the edge of a precipice. I peered over the edge, noting a good ten-meter drop. After collecting myself, I stood and watched the flaming remnants rain over the clearing.
The fireball grew to engulf the hive-shaped mound until it collapsed. The molten clay oozed over the remains of the shuttle and smothered the fire. The chittering wail of dozens of insects rose from within the hive. The pitch of their cries grew sharper and took on a more desperate resonance—a rallying call.
Killiks.
Swarms of man-sized insects armed with crater-riddled glaives rushed toward the damaged mound. Others swarmed the clutch of shattered purple eggs. I'd murdered their offspring and burned their home—hardly an auspicious beginning to a mission dedicated to understanding the Alderaanian political climate.
Not even Vowrawn's detailed briefing could prepare me for the onslaught I was about to encounter.
The insects turned in perfect unison to face me; as if one voice—or one mind—commanded them. I might have admired their precision under different circumstances. The insectoid army advanced, their song and weapons raised to a blazing pitch.
Instinct told me to take a step backwards, but the crumbling stones under my heel reminded me I had nowhere to go but down or forward. Neither option held any appeal.
Beyond the swarming mass, a woman's piercing scream made the decision for me.
Forward it is, then.
My lightsaber snarled to life and I threw myself at the horde of insects. Scratchy brown bodies became a tunnel around me, the scarlet glow of my blade the only light. I plowed forward, slashing, and stabbing and dodging glaives. The clatter of mandibles and their tergum armoured bellies was almost deafening.
With a wave of my arm, I swept the corpses to one side and somersaulted to a bulbous ledge jutting from one of the nearby hives. To my horror, the body of a trooper lolled through the wall, exposure to their secretions having eaten away the soldier's insignias. What colouring remained suggested he had served the Republic. A thermal detonator hung from his belt. I snatched the device and glared at the remaining throng of angry insects below.
Hmph…let us hope this works…
I depressed the switch and felt the vibration against my palm as it armed. The blinking red light hastened and I lobbed the sphere into the heart of the chattering army below.
The sphere detonated, triggering a whorl of dismembered insects and livid splashes of muddy yellow blood across the snow-dappled mountainside. After the explosion settled, quiet fell over the mountain and I questioned if the woman had survived.
I leapt from my perch and strode up the incline. Night threatened to cloak the mountainside. If I failed to learn the woman's fate within the half hour, I would need to abandon the search. Perhaps it was an exercise in futility…I began to doubt of her survival.
As I was about to abandon the search, my gaze was drawn to a clump of dark green fabric, a sharp contrast against the pristine snow. The girl didn't move, but through the Force, she appeared as a shimmering light.
I shucked my gloves and pressed my fingers to her throat. She was pale and cool to the touch, but the jaunty persistence of her pulse thrummed against my fingertips.
By my estimation, the girl was no more than twenty. Dainty manicured fingernails and the elaborately coiled hair suggested she was of noble birth. A low involuntary chuckle escaped me when I discovered she was armed only with a jewel encrusted letter opener. I shook my head and tucked the makeshift weapon into my belt. What she was doing here alone, remained a mystery.
I unfastened the pearlescent buttons at her throat and loosened the wide embroidered sash binding her waist to help her breathing. A complex network of under-wiring cinched an already tiny waist. I tugged the lower third of the corset's busk apart. Nobles and their ridiculously uptight clothing…
No sooner had her eyes snapped open, she pelted me with her fists. "Stop it! At once! Or…I'll scream!"
"I'd rather you didn't."
"You're a beast," she whimpered.
"No…I'm your rescuer."
"That doesn't give you the right! Please don't—I'm…betrothed." She gripped the sash and drew it to her chest as if I'd stripped her bare.
I laughed. "And how precisely will your impending marriage aid your breathing?"
"My breathing?" Confusion bloomed in her eyes.
"Yes…you were unconscious. What did you think I was doing?"
"I thought…I thought you were going to—you're a Sith aren't you?"
"And because of that, you assumed I was going to take advantage of you."
"Well…yes. Aren't you?"
"Is that a hint of disappointment?"
"No!" She roared and patted down her robes. "Wings of the thranta…where is it…"
"I suppose you're looking for this." I patted the letter opener tucked into my belt.
"Give it back."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Given your reaction, I suspect you're with House Organa." I rose and folded my arms.
"No…I'm from House Teraan."
"Which to my understanding is allied with Organa—and that makes you my captive."
"A captive—what's going to happen to me?"
"That…remains to be seen. If you co-operate, you will be returned to your family, no doubt as part of a prisoner exchange."
She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Through the Force, I sensed her fear rising over her shoulders like a fog—but it wasn't so much me that she feared or the insects or even captivity…
"You don't wish to return to your family. You ran away—that would explain why you're here…alone."
She lifted her head and sniffled. "Just go away, let me be."
"You're of noble birth. What could be so terrible, that you'd prefer death?"
"You wouldn't understand…"
"Because I'm Sith…"
She nodded quickly and swiped at her tears.
"Perhaps, it is because I'm Sith, that I would understand—better than any other…"
"I doubt that. You can do anything…you're free…I'm told what to wear and how to act and who I can marry…I wish I was a Sith or a Jedi…anything…except who I am."
"I was raised as a slave…my family was more fortunate than most…we had shelter and food in bellies—but we were slaves…"
"You were a slave?"
"For a time…but I longed for more. The Sith code gave me strength…perhaps it might do the same for you."
"I'd like to hear it…"
"Very well…" I drew a breath and gazed down at the girl by my feet. Brown, fear tainted eyes seared into my memory and I caught myself wanting to soothe the fear I saw there. I turned away. "Peace is a lie; there is only passion; through passion, I gain strength, through strength I gain power…through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken…the Force shall free me."
"That's…beautiful. But Master Rylister…he's a Jedi who visits us regularly—he says, there's no passion…only serenity…"
"Jedi platitudes…hmph. And what profound advice did this Jedi offer you?"
"He told me to be calm…that he would speak to my father on my behalf…and help him understand my unhappiness—that I don't love Malon Baliss…that I never could. I don't want to marry to win allies…I want to be loved."
I whirled on her. "A Jedi cannot speak of that which he does not understand…what does a Jedi know of love or unhappiness?"
"And what do you know about it, my Lord?"
Why am I even entertaining this mawkish nonsense? "We need to leave before the infernal insects return," I barked.
"I'm not going anywhere…let them come." She lifted her chin indignantly and the misery in her eyes became a challenge.
"Don't be a fool…"
"Please don't talk to me like that…I don't like it."
"You're testing my patience."
I sensed a lone presence no more than a few meters away—a killik. My lightsaber came alive in my hand.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"Quiet…stay down." I hurled the saber into the night and cut the creature down. My lightsaber returned to me, and I re-sheathed my blade. "That was a killik scout—we won't be alone much longer. Surely, accompanying me holds more appeal than becoming insect fodder."
"Maybe a little." She stood and dusted herself off.
In spite of myself, I chuckled.
Deep within the valley, a dome of golden light lifted over the treetops. "There…is that an outpost?"
"I think that's Wardpost Luurdes…but we can't go there…they'll shoot you."
"Your concern, while touching…is unnecessary."
"Yes, but they might miss and shoot me instead."
I palmed my forehead. "I think I'm beginning to understand why your father wants to be rid of you. Let's move."
((to be continued…))