Disclaimer: All characters in here, with the exception of Maara Jade, are the sole property of Lucasfilm. I'm just playing with them, and only for fun. I'm not making a single red cent. Maara Jade created 1996 by Sithspit.
PART FIVE
The Death of Callista
The morning dawned cold and wet. Swamp creatures called out, screeching their triumphant hunting cries or their agonized death squeals. A perpetual mist hung over the Dagobah morning, soaking Callista to her skin as she exited her shelter. She stretched languorously and yawned sleep's clinging tendrils away from her mind. Scratching at her side where one of Dagobah's parasitic dwellers had attempted to take up residence, she walked over to her fire pit to begin her breakfast.
Callista was much thinner now. She wryly reflected on the events of the last seven or eight years, the leanness of her existence and the revelations her meditations had brought her. She had always known that she was susceptible to the whisperings of the Dark Side and had always suspected that that was part of her separation from the Light these last few years. At first, she cursed the separation from the man she loved. Now, she understood that it was merely her destiny. The reports she had been hearing assured her that it was good for Luke, too. He apparently needed some maturity in his use of the Force, and with her he would not have gotten it. Then the Dark Side would have claimed them both.
That fateful day aboard the Eye of Palpatine she was already dangerously close to the Dark Side. Transferring her life force from the computer to Cray's willing body was what pushed her over the edge. That action had prompted the Force to place her in a bubble that effectively cut her off from itself. This was very similar to what Masters Arca, Bodo Baas and Nomi Sunrider had done before and during the Sith War. They had been capable of placing a Dark Jedi in a bubble of Light Side force that cut them off from their connection to the Dark Side. The only access to the Force that left them was the Light Side's. It very effectively neutralized them. Some like thing had happened to Callista. She suspected that she would not regain her connection to the Light Side's warmth until every single bit of the Dark Side's corrupting influence vanished.
She was almost there. As more of the past melted away into the mists of time, her joy at just being alive became much stronger. Very little of her past darkness remained. She no longer lay awake at night fretting over things that could have been or should have been. She was a Jedi and she served the Force. Nothing else mattered.
Callista finished preparing her food and sat down to eat it. As she lifted the first bite to her mouth, she heard the roar of landing jets firing in the shrouded mists overhead. Immediately, she forgot all thoughts of food.
Who could be landing here? She thought.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she set her bowl down and set her lightsaber within reach of her hand. She stared at the silvery cylinder and thought, One day soon I won't need to set you within arms reach, my friend.
The thunder of the jets grew increasingly louder as the ship dropped lower through the atmosphere. Suddenly, the noise transformed from a roar to a whining, high-pitched moan. Hmmm, cut in the repulsors, she thought. Callista reached into the pouch on her robe's belt and pressed the activator of the beckon call that snuggled in there. When she didn't hear a confirming beep from the unit, she drew it out and visually checked it. Jammed!
Immediately she stood and ran for her ship, nimbly dodging and hopping over stumps and roots along the way.
Callista's Hope, a Hyrotii Crescent-class light freighter, stood 25 meters away, hidden beneath the sensor net. The ship was a gift from one of her past employers, received two years ago after she had saved his life on Celanon. It contained some very sophisticated security and sensor systems, and it challenged her as she approached.
"Halt and be recognized."
"Recognition," she shouted.
"Confirmed," the ship replied, and the angry red light on the side control panel flickered to green. Callista punched in the manual override commands for her ship's start-up sequence and powered up the weapons system. Working frantically, she ripped the netting off and lowered the ramp leading into the ship's interior.
At that precise instant, the intruding ship lowered itself through the mist and oriented itself towards Callista. She immediately noticed the heavy laser cannon in the ship's nose and realized that she would never make it off the ground. With that same realization came the knowledge that she must face this interloper on its own terms.
Callista recognized the type of ship as Corellian, but was unfamiliar with the class. It possessed sleek lines and looked built for speed. Jutting from its stabilizers were two more laser cannons, long and wicked tools of destruction. An ion cannon rested on top of the hull like a malignant growth, and she also recognized openings that probably housed concussion missile tubes. Dressed to kill, she thought.
The ship eased to the ground with a sigh and shut down. A ramp lowered from the port side of the ship and a young woman strode down it to the damp soil. She stood there for a brief moment and looked around, seeming to take stock of the situation. She was lithe, gracefully shaped and moved with a feline, predatory air. Red-gold hair framed her face, pulled back into a tight braid at the back of her head. Her snug, formfitting jumpsuit suggested a serious, no-nonsense approach to affairs that in no way detracted from her obvious charms, which were plentiful.
Realization hit Callista and stunned her. Mara Jade? What is she doing here?
Mara turned to her and waved. Callista waved back, half-hearted in the motion. She noted, with interest, that the lightsaber hanging from Mara's belt wasn't the one Luke had given her. Perhaps they've had a falling out, she thought. Well, she won't get any help from me. Immediately, she felt shame for her petty and defiant attitude. Red faced, she turned away to stop her ship's launch cycle and to hide her embarrassment.
Mara walked up to her and greeted her. "Hello, Callista." She smiled and said, "Long time no see."
"Hello, Mara. Welcome to Dagobah. Ah--" She hesitated and Mara smiled again, this time rather slyly.
"I suppose you're wondering why I am here."
Callista flushed and muttered, "That thought had crossed my mind." She looked around the clearing restlessly and offered, "Would you like something to eat or drink?"
Mara shrugged and said, "Why not? I might as well before I get to business."
The two women walked back to the fire in silence, each absorbed in their own private thoughts. As they sat on the logs that encircled the fire pit, they sipped the hot beverages that Callista had provided. Finally, Callista could take the tense atmosphere no longer and broke the silence. "All right, Mara. Why are you here?"
Mara set her drink down and looked thoughtful. "Well, let's just say I needed to tie up a few loose ends." She stood and began to pace, hands clasped behind her back into tight fists. Abruptly she stopped and fixed Callista with a hard stare. "You're the last one."
Callista's head jerked up, her head tilted quizzically, eyebrow arched in confusion. "Huh-?I", she thought.
Maara inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. She stared into the distance, her gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon as she sighed and said, "Let me tell you a story..."
"It all began a little over a year ago at a place called Lake Liralil. I awoke for the first time and realized that I was alive. I had sentience and a purpose; that purpose was to do the bidding of someone I know only as The Hand."
Callista's eyes narrowed and she hissed, "Her-." She climbed to her feet and gazed harshly at Maara, loathing pouring from her in waves. "Mara, how could you? She's been trying to have me killed for years!" Callista's hand began to edge toward her lightsaber as she eased slowly away from Maara, never once taking her eyes away from her soon to be executioner.
"Mara, I don't understand something. What do you mean 'you awoke for the first time'?"
Maara turned to look at Callista, a far away, almost dreamy look on her beautiful face. She smiled, almost sadly. No, with pity. "You don't get it, do you Callista? My name is Maara Jade, not Mara Jade. I am a clone."
Callista paled. Her mind whirled as though caught in the winds of the planet Vortex. Impossible, she thought. It can't be. How?
Abruptly, all thought stopped at the feel of her throat constricting and cutting off the flow of air to her lungs. She began to gag as bright spots appeared before her eyes and the edges of her vision slowly started fading to black. Then, as suddenly as it began, the assault on her throat stopped. The pain there crept down her chest, like the cold fingers of the undead, to linger and compress her heart. There it began to squeeze, slowly putting more and more pressure on the organ.
As Callista dropped to her knees, gasping in pain and from the lack of oxygen, Maara laughed and taunted, "It hurts, doesn't it?"
As she continued to chuckle, she released the Force grip she held on Callista's heart. She clucked her tongue as Callista rolled onto her back from her kneeling position, panting and clutching at her chest, all the while fighting to remain conscious. She eased one hand down from her chest to her belt and began to grope for the lightsaber hooked there. Maara saw this and gestured. The weapon pulled away and leapt to the clone's outstretched hand.
Maara grimaced and shook her head, vicious glee written all over her visage. "Oh, no, my dear! We can't have that just yet. I want to play some more, first." She walked around to where Callista had turned her head and crouched next to her, but just out of reach. "I bet you're wondering where The Hand got the genetic material from, hmm?" Callista was still lying there moaning, but she managed to nod her head in response to the clone's query.
Maara smiled in satisfaction and mused, "Let me see. Do you remember when my template had to undergo neural reconstruction after the Katana fleet incident? You don't? Oh, yes, you were still trapped in the Eye of Palpatine, weren't you? The Hand paid one of the med-techs to obtain a small and easy to overlook piece of Mara's brain tissue. He delivered it to a courier who brought it to Nar Shaddaa. There it was picked up by The Hand herself and brought to Lake Liralil. Incidentally, Lake Liralil is another of the Emperor's storehouses, but I think that little secret will be safe with you, hmm?"
Callista was able to breathe much better at this point and managed to roll to a seated position. Her throat still ached and the pain in her chest felt as if a bantha was standing on it. While she could attempt to calm herself, she had no recourse to the Force to effectively alleviate her condition. Worst yet, she knew there wasn't really anything she could do about the clone, either. Maara was Force sensitive, fully armed, and totally evil. This was her end, her destiny, and she accepted it. I've got to keep her talking. Think, Cal, think!
Callista peered up at the grinning clone and calmly said, "Yes, I suppose it will be. How many storehouses does he have?" She began the attempt to stand up, but immediately felt the pressure begin on her throat and chest again.
"No, no, no. None of that, ma'am. You stay right where you are." Maara frowned and took a step back, putting a meter or two between them.
Callista sat back down and the grip faded away again. "That's better," Maara said. "Now, back to your question. He had a total of six, but Skywalker and his friends took care of Mt. Tantiss. That left five. I came from Lake Liralil, which leaves four, and I haven't a clue as to where the rest are. I do know that the guardian of each storehouse is a clone of the Jedi Masters from the Outbound Flight Project. Six Masters, six storehouses. It worked out perfectly for Palpatine."
This stunned Callista. This tale was unbelievable. She marshaled her thoughts and managed to stammer out, "But, what about the originals? Where are they? What if they come back?" She was afraid that she already knew the answer to that question, and Maara confirmed that fear with her next statement.
"Oh, them? Grand Admiral Thrawn took care of them when they reached the Unknown Regions. One Interdictor cruiser and some careful planning was all he needed to kill them. After that, I guess they didn't really need their genetic material anymore." Maara walked over to the tree farthest away from Callista and leaned against it. She casually crossed her shapely legs at the ankles and folded her arms across her chest. Angling her head to look at Callista's face, she regarded her with a quizzical expression.
"Why all of the curiosity about the storehouses? I would have bet my credits you would want to know how you were going to die."
Callista shifted her position so her rear wouldn't fall asleep and pondered the question. "I guess it doesn't really matter. To a Jedi, death is only the beginning of a new phase of living. What does it matter how you get there?"
Maara snorted, "Yeah, right, like you really expect me to believe that."
Callista replied, "No, it's true. If you have no choice about making a journey and are not given a choice as to how you travel, all that matters then is that you get there." She crossed her legs and propped her elbows on the knees, resting her chin in her hands as she continued her thought. "In all honesty though, I suppose I would rather the trip to be quick as opposed to lengthy." She smiled wryly and quipped, "Do I have a choice?"
Maara considered this for a moment. "Sure, within certain parameters, of course." She stood and began to pace again. "I guess I have enough of an advantage to allow you that." She paused, then continued, ticking off with her fingers as she did, "One, no blaster duels. Two, no hunts. Three, no ship to ship fighting." Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Callista. "I think that sums it up."
Callista mulled this over. After several minutes she smiled wanly and said, "All right, how about a lightsaber duel?"
The predator in Maara surged through to the surface of her face and she regarded Callista with a wicked, wolfish grin. "Oh, I like that. I have the advantage in the Force and you have the advantage of years of experience. A fair match, I think."
Maara moved from her position against the tree and tossed Callista her lightsaber, but just out of her reach. Callista had to lean over to catch it, which overbalanced her. She fell over, but rolled with the motion and came smoothly to her feet, igniting her lightsaber as she did. The sun yellow blade "snap-hissed" into existence, and she smiled. She nodded at Maara's white blade as it too hissed to life and said, "You know, your lightsaber was my first clue that something wasn't right." She started towards Maara and raised her blade to a guard position. "That's not the one he gave Mara."
Maara snarled, "Observant little bitch, aren't you?" She lunged forward with her blade and feinted at Callista's legs, then slashed upward in an attempt to cut her fighting arm.
Callista ignored the feint and easily parried the strike, her blade hissing as it slid along the other. Using Maara's blade as a springboard, she shoved, and her saber leapt into a short, counterclockwise circle, returning the attack to Maara and trying for her arm.
Maara anticipated the attack and went with the motion of the push and spun out of range with bare centimeters to spare. She completed her spin and found that Callista was just standing there, calmly waiting for her.
Callista slightly bowed her head and softly said, "Whenever you're ready."
Maara's beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of rage and hate. She spat a curse at her nemesis and carried the attack back to her, slashing viciously in an attempt at finishing the contest.
Surprised at the ferocity of the attack, Callista hastily blocked and countered with an equally hasty uppercut, sidestepping and looking for another opening.
The two women battled on and on. They blocked and countered, feinting and parrying and counterattacking, giving no quarter and asking for none. The fight raged for nearly thirty minutes before one of them made a fatal error, and then it happened quickly.
Callista's malt hair clung to her head with sweat and her breathing came in short, ragged gasps. Her muscles screamed and protested at the punishment they were receiving, aching and threatening to quit. At least Maara's finally looking winded, she thought with relief.
As Callista thought this, Maara stumbled. With an exultant cry of triumph, Callista stepped through her attack and raised her blade to deliver the finishing blow. Just as her blade began its downward charge, her joy turned to horrified despair. That smile. Oh, NO.. .!
Maara nimbly sidestepped the attack that her faked stumble had provoked and smiled, coldly and evilly. Using a tactic similar to the one her template had used on Wayland, she thumbed her blade off, reoriented it towards Callista's heart, thumbing it back on. The blade sprang back to life and arrowed through the robe's cloth, the body beneath it, and back out the other side. It hissed and sizzled at the contact of cloth and flesh, humming as if accepting the offering it had received. The smell of burned flesh hung in the morning air as the body that originated it fell to its knees and then slumped over onto its side, eyes open and wide with shock.
Maara stood by and watched as the body inside the brown robe vanished, leaving the robe to slump empty to the ground, the lightsaber deactivating itself as the grip that held it disappeared.
Thumbing her blade off again, she extended her empty hand towards the lightsaber on the ground and watched meditatively as it floated up to her. She considered keeping it as a trophy, then shook her head negatively. She would send it to Skywalker with a holo for explanation. Consider it closure for his life.
Two hours later, after slicing into Callista's ship's computer, she slaved it to her own ship and the two vessels lifted off into Dagobah's sky, leaving the planet empty once again.
PART FIVE
The Death of Callista
The morning dawned cold and wet. Swamp creatures called out, screeching their triumphant hunting cries or their agonized death squeals. A perpetual mist hung over the Dagobah morning, soaking Callista to her skin as she exited her shelter. She stretched languorously and yawned sleep's clinging tendrils away from her mind. Scratching at her side where one of Dagobah's parasitic dwellers had attempted to take up residence, she walked over to her fire pit to begin her breakfast.
Callista was much thinner now. She wryly reflected on the events of the last seven or eight years, the leanness of her existence and the revelations her meditations had brought her. She had always known that she was susceptible to the whisperings of the Dark Side and had always suspected that that was part of her separation from the Light these last few years. At first, she cursed the separation from the man she loved. Now, she understood that it was merely her destiny. The reports she had been hearing assured her that it was good for Luke, too. He apparently needed some maturity in his use of the Force, and with her he would not have gotten it. Then the Dark Side would have claimed them both.
That fateful day aboard the Eye of Palpatine she was already dangerously close to the Dark Side. Transferring her life force from the computer to Cray's willing body was what pushed her over the edge. That action had prompted the Force to place her in a bubble that effectively cut her off from itself. This was very similar to what Masters Arca, Bodo Baas and Nomi Sunrider had done before and during the Sith War. They had been capable of placing a Dark Jedi in a bubble of Light Side force that cut them off from their connection to the Dark Side. The only access to the Force that left them was the Light Side's. It very effectively neutralized them. Some like thing had happened to Callista. She suspected that she would not regain her connection to the Light Side's warmth until every single bit of the Dark Side's corrupting influence vanished.
She was almost there. As more of the past melted away into the mists of time, her joy at just being alive became much stronger. Very little of her past darkness remained. She no longer lay awake at night fretting over things that could have been or should have been. She was a Jedi and she served the Force. Nothing else mattered.
Callista finished preparing her food and sat down to eat it. As she lifted the first bite to her mouth, she heard the roar of landing jets firing in the shrouded mists overhead. Immediately, she forgot all thoughts of food.
Who could be landing here? She thought.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she set her bowl down and set her lightsaber within reach of her hand. She stared at the silvery cylinder and thought, One day soon I won't need to set you within arms reach, my friend.
The thunder of the jets grew increasingly louder as the ship dropped lower through the atmosphere. Suddenly, the noise transformed from a roar to a whining, high-pitched moan. Hmmm, cut in the repulsors, she thought. Callista reached into the pouch on her robe's belt and pressed the activator of the beckon call that snuggled in there. When she didn't hear a confirming beep from the unit, she drew it out and visually checked it. Jammed!
Immediately she stood and ran for her ship, nimbly dodging and hopping over stumps and roots along the way.
Callista's Hope, a Hyrotii Crescent-class light freighter, stood 25 meters away, hidden beneath the sensor net. The ship was a gift from one of her past employers, received two years ago after she had saved his life on Celanon. It contained some very sophisticated security and sensor systems, and it challenged her as she approached.
"Halt and be recognized."
"Recognition," she shouted.
"Confirmed," the ship replied, and the angry red light on the side control panel flickered to green. Callista punched in the manual override commands for her ship's start-up sequence and powered up the weapons system. Working frantically, she ripped the netting off and lowered the ramp leading into the ship's interior.
At that precise instant, the intruding ship lowered itself through the mist and oriented itself towards Callista. She immediately noticed the heavy laser cannon in the ship's nose and realized that she would never make it off the ground. With that same realization came the knowledge that she must face this interloper on its own terms.
Callista recognized the type of ship as Corellian, but was unfamiliar with the class. It possessed sleek lines and looked built for speed. Jutting from its stabilizers were two more laser cannons, long and wicked tools of destruction. An ion cannon rested on top of the hull like a malignant growth, and she also recognized openings that probably housed concussion missile tubes. Dressed to kill, she thought.
The ship eased to the ground with a sigh and shut down. A ramp lowered from the port side of the ship and a young woman strode down it to the damp soil. She stood there for a brief moment and looked around, seeming to take stock of the situation. She was lithe, gracefully shaped and moved with a feline, predatory air. Red-gold hair framed her face, pulled back into a tight braid at the back of her head. Her snug, formfitting jumpsuit suggested a serious, no-nonsense approach to affairs that in no way detracted from her obvious charms, which were plentiful.
Realization hit Callista and stunned her. Mara Jade? What is she doing here?
Mara turned to her and waved. Callista waved back, half-hearted in the motion. She noted, with interest, that the lightsaber hanging from Mara's belt wasn't the one Luke had given her. Perhaps they've had a falling out, she thought. Well, she won't get any help from me. Immediately, she felt shame for her petty and defiant attitude. Red faced, she turned away to stop her ship's launch cycle and to hide her embarrassment.
Mara walked up to her and greeted her. "Hello, Callista." She smiled and said, "Long time no see."
"Hello, Mara. Welcome to Dagobah. Ah--" She hesitated and Mara smiled again, this time rather slyly.
"I suppose you're wondering why I am here."
Callista flushed and muttered, "That thought had crossed my mind." She looked around the clearing restlessly and offered, "Would you like something to eat or drink?"
Mara shrugged and said, "Why not? I might as well before I get to business."
The two women walked back to the fire in silence, each absorbed in their own private thoughts. As they sat on the logs that encircled the fire pit, they sipped the hot beverages that Callista had provided. Finally, Callista could take the tense atmosphere no longer and broke the silence. "All right, Mara. Why are you here?"
Mara set her drink down and looked thoughtful. "Well, let's just say I needed to tie up a few loose ends." She stood and began to pace, hands clasped behind her back into tight fists. Abruptly she stopped and fixed Callista with a hard stare. "You're the last one."
Callista's head jerked up, her head tilted quizzically, eyebrow arched in confusion. "Huh-?I", she thought.
Maara inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. She stared into the distance, her gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon as she sighed and said, "Let me tell you a story..."
"It all began a little over a year ago at a place called Lake Liralil. I awoke for the first time and realized that I was alive. I had sentience and a purpose; that purpose was to do the bidding of someone I know only as The Hand."
Callista's eyes narrowed and she hissed, "Her-." She climbed to her feet and gazed harshly at Maara, loathing pouring from her in waves. "Mara, how could you? She's been trying to have me killed for years!" Callista's hand began to edge toward her lightsaber as she eased slowly away from Maara, never once taking her eyes away from her soon to be executioner.
"Mara, I don't understand something. What do you mean 'you awoke for the first time'?"
Maara turned to look at Callista, a far away, almost dreamy look on her beautiful face. She smiled, almost sadly. No, with pity. "You don't get it, do you Callista? My name is Maara Jade, not Mara Jade. I am a clone."
Callista paled. Her mind whirled as though caught in the winds of the planet Vortex. Impossible, she thought. It can't be. How?
Abruptly, all thought stopped at the feel of her throat constricting and cutting off the flow of air to her lungs. She began to gag as bright spots appeared before her eyes and the edges of her vision slowly started fading to black. Then, as suddenly as it began, the assault on her throat stopped. The pain there crept down her chest, like the cold fingers of the undead, to linger and compress her heart. There it began to squeeze, slowly putting more and more pressure on the organ.
As Callista dropped to her knees, gasping in pain and from the lack of oxygen, Maara laughed and taunted, "It hurts, doesn't it?"
As she continued to chuckle, she released the Force grip she held on Callista's heart. She clucked her tongue as Callista rolled onto her back from her kneeling position, panting and clutching at her chest, all the while fighting to remain conscious. She eased one hand down from her chest to her belt and began to grope for the lightsaber hooked there. Maara saw this and gestured. The weapon pulled away and leapt to the clone's outstretched hand.
Maara grimaced and shook her head, vicious glee written all over her visage. "Oh, no, my dear! We can't have that just yet. I want to play some more, first." She walked around to where Callista had turned her head and crouched next to her, but just out of reach. "I bet you're wondering where The Hand got the genetic material from, hmm?" Callista was still lying there moaning, but she managed to nod her head in response to the clone's query.
Maara smiled in satisfaction and mused, "Let me see. Do you remember when my template had to undergo neural reconstruction after the Katana fleet incident? You don't? Oh, yes, you were still trapped in the Eye of Palpatine, weren't you? The Hand paid one of the med-techs to obtain a small and easy to overlook piece of Mara's brain tissue. He delivered it to a courier who brought it to Nar Shaddaa. There it was picked up by The Hand herself and brought to Lake Liralil. Incidentally, Lake Liralil is another of the Emperor's storehouses, but I think that little secret will be safe with you, hmm?"
Callista was able to breathe much better at this point and managed to roll to a seated position. Her throat still ached and the pain in her chest felt as if a bantha was standing on it. While she could attempt to calm herself, she had no recourse to the Force to effectively alleviate her condition. Worst yet, she knew there wasn't really anything she could do about the clone, either. Maara was Force sensitive, fully armed, and totally evil. This was her end, her destiny, and she accepted it. I've got to keep her talking. Think, Cal, think!
Callista peered up at the grinning clone and calmly said, "Yes, I suppose it will be. How many storehouses does he have?" She began the attempt to stand up, but immediately felt the pressure begin on her throat and chest again.
"No, no, no. None of that, ma'am. You stay right where you are." Maara frowned and took a step back, putting a meter or two between them.
Callista sat back down and the grip faded away again. "That's better," Maara said. "Now, back to your question. He had a total of six, but Skywalker and his friends took care of Mt. Tantiss. That left five. I came from Lake Liralil, which leaves four, and I haven't a clue as to where the rest are. I do know that the guardian of each storehouse is a clone of the Jedi Masters from the Outbound Flight Project. Six Masters, six storehouses. It worked out perfectly for Palpatine."
This stunned Callista. This tale was unbelievable. She marshaled her thoughts and managed to stammer out, "But, what about the originals? Where are they? What if they come back?" She was afraid that she already knew the answer to that question, and Maara confirmed that fear with her next statement.
"Oh, them? Grand Admiral Thrawn took care of them when they reached the Unknown Regions. One Interdictor cruiser and some careful planning was all he needed to kill them. After that, I guess they didn't really need their genetic material anymore." Maara walked over to the tree farthest away from Callista and leaned against it. She casually crossed her shapely legs at the ankles and folded her arms across her chest. Angling her head to look at Callista's face, she regarded her with a quizzical expression.
"Why all of the curiosity about the storehouses? I would have bet my credits you would want to know how you were going to die."
Callista shifted her position so her rear wouldn't fall asleep and pondered the question. "I guess it doesn't really matter. To a Jedi, death is only the beginning of a new phase of living. What does it matter how you get there?"
Maara snorted, "Yeah, right, like you really expect me to believe that."
Callista replied, "No, it's true. If you have no choice about making a journey and are not given a choice as to how you travel, all that matters then is that you get there." She crossed her legs and propped her elbows on the knees, resting her chin in her hands as she continued her thought. "In all honesty though, I suppose I would rather the trip to be quick as opposed to lengthy." She smiled wryly and quipped, "Do I have a choice?"
Maara considered this for a moment. "Sure, within certain parameters, of course." She stood and began to pace again. "I guess I have enough of an advantage to allow you that." She paused, then continued, ticking off with her fingers as she did, "One, no blaster duels. Two, no hunts. Three, no ship to ship fighting." Her eyes narrowed and she stared at Callista. "I think that sums it up."
Callista mulled this over. After several minutes she smiled wanly and said, "All right, how about a lightsaber duel?"
The predator in Maara surged through to the surface of her face and she regarded Callista with a wicked, wolfish grin. "Oh, I like that. I have the advantage in the Force and you have the advantage of years of experience. A fair match, I think."
Maara moved from her position against the tree and tossed Callista her lightsaber, but just out of her reach. Callista had to lean over to catch it, which overbalanced her. She fell over, but rolled with the motion and came smoothly to her feet, igniting her lightsaber as she did. The sun yellow blade "snap-hissed" into existence, and she smiled. She nodded at Maara's white blade as it too hissed to life and said, "You know, your lightsaber was my first clue that something wasn't right." She started towards Maara and raised her blade to a guard position. "That's not the one he gave Mara."
Maara snarled, "Observant little bitch, aren't you?" She lunged forward with her blade and feinted at Callista's legs, then slashed upward in an attempt to cut her fighting arm.
Callista ignored the feint and easily parried the strike, her blade hissing as it slid along the other. Using Maara's blade as a springboard, she shoved, and her saber leapt into a short, counterclockwise circle, returning the attack to Maara and trying for her arm.
Maara anticipated the attack and went with the motion of the push and spun out of range with bare centimeters to spare. She completed her spin and found that Callista was just standing there, calmly waiting for her.
Callista slightly bowed her head and softly said, "Whenever you're ready."
Maara's beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of rage and hate. She spat a curse at her nemesis and carried the attack back to her, slashing viciously in an attempt at finishing the contest.
Surprised at the ferocity of the attack, Callista hastily blocked and countered with an equally hasty uppercut, sidestepping and looking for another opening.
The two women battled on and on. They blocked and countered, feinting and parrying and counterattacking, giving no quarter and asking for none. The fight raged for nearly thirty minutes before one of them made a fatal error, and then it happened quickly.
Callista's malt hair clung to her head with sweat and her breathing came in short, ragged gasps. Her muscles screamed and protested at the punishment they were receiving, aching and threatening to quit. At least Maara's finally looking winded, she thought with relief.
As Callista thought this, Maara stumbled. With an exultant cry of triumph, Callista stepped through her attack and raised her blade to deliver the finishing blow. Just as her blade began its downward charge, her joy turned to horrified despair. That smile. Oh, NO.. .!
Maara nimbly sidestepped the attack that her faked stumble had provoked and smiled, coldly and evilly. Using a tactic similar to the one her template had used on Wayland, she thumbed her blade off, reoriented it towards Callista's heart, thumbing it back on. The blade sprang back to life and arrowed through the robe's cloth, the body beneath it, and back out the other side. It hissed and sizzled at the contact of cloth and flesh, humming as if accepting the offering it had received. The smell of burned flesh hung in the morning air as the body that originated it fell to its knees and then slumped over onto its side, eyes open and wide with shock.
Maara stood by and watched as the body inside the brown robe vanished, leaving the robe to slump empty to the ground, the lightsaber deactivating itself as the grip that held it disappeared.
Thumbing her blade off again, she extended her empty hand towards the lightsaber on the ground and watched meditatively as it floated up to her. She considered keeping it as a trophy, then shook her head negatively. She would send it to Skywalker with a holo for explanation. Consider it closure for his life.
Two hours later, after slicing into Callista's ship's computer, she slaved it to her own ship and the two vessels lifted off into Dagobah's sky, leaving the planet empty once again.