Symmetry and Imperfection
Part 18
~
All through the city, battles rage between the factions. Smoke and fire raged in several sectors and corpses rocked in the surf at the foot of the cliffs. Blood and charred organic matter marred the pastel exteriors of the buildings along with deep pockmarks caused by energy weapons and shrapnel.
Imperial stormtroopers, anonymous behind their death's-mask helmets patrolled the streets in twelvesquads. Thus far, they had efficiently dispensed with the local militia and the Peace Keepers had run for the hills at the first flash of white armor. The bounty hunters, with the corpses of their comrades coloring the white plascrete sidewalks with a variety of blood and ichor were reluctantly starting to reconsider the consequences of their pursuit of Jedi.
Perran's Jedi, for their part, knew themselves trapped and hunted simultaneously for Abhaia and for any possible escape route.
Abhaia stood over a fresh kill, rage reddening her eyes. Perran Jasc had escaped. Though she was not sure that she could have killed him, she knew that she had managed to cause him pain. Despite the fact that the mental contact had been bell clear, her grip on his physical person was tenuous at best. Perran was not the type to put himself at risk, hence, he had seldom needed the services of a Healer. The only thing Abhaia could latch on to was his presence in the Force. If he was going to die - and Abahaia was determined to manage that with her last breath of she must – it would have to be on her blade.
The bone-vibrating hum of an Armored Personnel Carrier reached her. Slipping into the shadows of an alleyway, she hid behind the massive block of a cooling unit until they passed.
Dimly, she could sense her new master preoccupied with his current duel. Vader was keen on the hunt and seemed to have a knack for tracking even the most sly of the warriors. Thus far, the score was three make that four to zero. Vader was not so much as scratched.
A shiver racked her once more at the thought of Vader. She had willingly chained herself by oath to a Dark Lord of the Sith. The Danu had said that no chains could ever bind more tightly than those assumed by one's own free will. Now Abhaia knew the deepest truth of that statement; she was as much a slave as if she had been sold in the Great Market on Nar Shaada. The only difference was that she had sold herself for revenge and the chance to stop the pain of her people instead of platinum.
::: Never a slave, my apprentice. Never think it. You serve of your own will. If you are a slave, you are a slave to yourself, but never to me. :::
Vader's mind-voice was at the same time heated and coldly serious, the scolding delivered with a mental sting that made her wince.
::: Yes, my Master. I am sorry. ::: Reflexively, she looked down at the toes of her boots as if he stood in front of her.
::: Time enough to correct your perceptions of your status when I have you in hand. Where are you? :::
Thinking about the first statement made her want to turn tail and run for all her legs were worth. However, that would mean death from several possible sources, not to mention deep unpleasantness from Vader should he catch her alive.
::: I'm in the Fifth Ward of the Irello District. Near the Street of Ten Thousand Pleasures. :::
Stepping out of the alley, she reconnoitered the street. The District was usually humming with boisterous traffic in and out of the whorehouses, drug dens, and pornie shows. Perfume, sweat, and the miasma of alcohol and other intoxicants normally seemed to swirl like mist in the gaudy lighting of the establishments. Now only ashes blew down the street, the signs were dark, and the ornate metal shutters that graced the Kalini buildings were pulled tight.
::: I'm moving west to the beach walks down the Street of Flowers ::: The airy expanse of bridges and repulsor platforms along the bluffs should give her plenty of cover.
Vader's amusement echoed in her skull. ::: You mean, you are right here. :::
A streetlight sparked to life over her head, bathing her in the blue-white glow of halogen and Abhaia nearly fainted. He knew where she was!
::: You see, this close, I know exactly where you are. If you ran – and I know that you were considering it, child - I could light up every street lamp along your route. Do you understand, my apprentice? :::
Abhaia drew a shaky breath and conceded the point. ::: Now please, Master, put the damned thing out. :::
The lamp darkened once more, but Abhaia found herself staring nervously up and down the street. Irrationally, she wished for her cloak to hide in and then remembered where she had left it. Rage flared along her veins; Neve's body wrapped in a cloak on a barroom floor after a pain-filled and frightening death.
::: Avenge her, youngling. Pay them death for death and make the interest higher than they ever imagined. :::
As Abhaia stalked down the wide avenue to the beach, her growl of agreement was her only response.
~
Naum dreamed.
Memories, desires, and the deepest wishes of his soul played in the deepest recesses of his brain.
The Jedi who found him in the depths of Coruscant when Naum was just a few months old brought the hungry and neglected infant to the infirmary. Naum remembered the touch of the Jedi master's mind on his with wonder. There was unconditional acceptance, love and compassion without limit. Night after night the Jedi master allowed Naum to fall asleep on his chest, listening to his heart and basking in the utter security of being wanted. The Healers, the Tenders, even the Creche Masters were each distinct and beloved memories. Master Yoda, leaning on his gimer stick, gently encouraging Naum and the rest of the Sunhawk Clan to feel the Force around them.
The Temple stood whole and proud. The riots and destruction that was triggered by the reported death of Anakin Skywalker at the hands of his own master far away in time. The late summer sun poured like translucent gold though the windows in the Hall of the Convocation and the serenity of those within was nourishment to the soul.
Eran bis Mivall, his master, looked up from his reading to chide him about being late for dinner, his hazel eyes laughing as Naum attempted to deny the very existence of a hickey on his neck.
Prana Fairsky, his friend and study mate, swearing like a trooper as they scrambled into their clothing, late for their own Knighting dinner because of a more intimate celebration.
"Hmm. Shrunk your tunic has, Knight Koghan." The entire dining hall burst out laughing as he and Prana heartily wished for the fabled hole in the ground that they could sink into.
Prana, oh, Prana. I miss you, friend of my body and spirit.
He writhed in the grip of this enforced sleep, protesting that it was gone, all of it gone. Prana died just before the last battle of the Clone Wars, caught and executed by Dooku the Traitor for espionage. Naum's master had been cremated with nearly one hundred other Jedi after the battle of Geonosis. The Temple lay in ruins and the life he knew, the life he loved and sacrificed for was dust and ashes in the air filters of Coruscant. The Jedi had been hunted out, exterminated, or turned against their own brethren in an orgy of fratricide.
Mission after mission that left him soul-sick and weeping. The loss of life after life like stars winking out one by one in the night sky.
Wake up! I have to wake up!
"Sleep, Naum Koghan." Abhaia walked his dreams in flowing silks the color of arterial blood, the filmy ghosts of her memories trailing behind her.
"Abi, Abi, please don't do this. Please" He could save her. He could save himself if he saved her. All he wanted was to pull one soul from the abyss and breathe the Light in it back to life. "Please please Abi, come back"
The rising wind from the sea howled through the caves and Naum's hands scrambled across unyielding rock as they tried to catch hold of the images in his dreams.
Abi stood on the high cliffs, her scarlet silks like banner against the setting sun. The water was as blood, bodies bobbing in the waves, and Naum could feel night's cold advance.
"Abi" he held out his hands in supplication, but night was upon them, stealing the color from her skin and turning the flaring scarlet to deepest black. The night itself contorted and Vader was there, draping her in a flowing black cloak, making her part of the darkness.
Naum woke screaming and sobbing, giving voice to a grief held too long at arms length. He pressed his bloody hands to his face and wept uncontrollably, sick to the deepest part of his being of death and loss.
Reaching out for Abi, he found only resignation and determination in equal parts. Vader was here, on Kal Madedo, his presence a black whirlwind drawing her in. Aggression and ferocity ripped through the night as duels were fought and lives lost.
Stumbling to his feet he lurched into the room he last remembered being in. The communications equipment was charred and melted beyond repair, but it didn't matter any more. He could no more go back to the Council than he could spit diamonds, the only thing they wanted to save was themselves.
Fine, he would leave them to it.
Naum checked the charge on his saber. There would be killing done tonight and for the first time in decades, his mission was clear, the objective concrete. His eyes still leaked tears but his spirit was sure and serene as it had not been for a long time. The pledge of Knighthood rang in his heart as it had so long ago.
"In the name of the Light, by the will of the Force, in memory of all who have stood here before me, I am a Knight of the Jedi order and I humbly serve."
A light filled him, the shadows in him fleeing or being swallowed by the luminous tide. Lives hung on his actions, he could feel it, and he promised the future that he sensed that he would not allow them to perish.
He sensed Abi to the west. Vader was moving toward her from the north. Other presences were tracking both from the south.
Flinging himself up the metal stairs on the cliff face, he hit the headlands and started to run.
~