Chapter 8

The Millennium Falcon was packed to the fullest, with over a dozen Jedi Knights sitting in the rear compartment. It must have been uncomfortable for them all to be scrunched up in one room, and for the first time since he had left Coruscant, Luke wished they had brought a larger ship. He had picked the best Jedi students for this mission--which was what they needed, considering that they were going up against an extremely deadly opponent.
Kyp Durron, arguably his most powerful student. He had been one of the few Jedi who had fallen to the dark side and came back. His past was dark with tragedy--most importantly, the death of his brother and parents at the hands of the Empire--but he had always stayed strong, and was the closest to becoming a Jedi Master.
Kirana Ti, a warrior woman from Dathomir. Strong, tall, and well-built, she was quite a formidable opponent, even without the Force. Kirana Ti had been instrumental in helping Luke and Callista defeat the newest batch of Nightsisters three years ago, when Hope had been born. Kam Solusar, yet another Jedi who had once been a slave to the dark side. He was a bitter and angry man, still consumed by his past, but as time went on, he became more attached to the other students on Yavin 4. His heart was still heavy from the crimes he had committed as a Dark Jedi, but slowly and steadily, his inner wounds were healing.
Dorsk 81, a green-skinned clone from the peaceful world of Khomm. When Dorsk 81 had first arrived at the Jedi Academy, he had been a shy, timid young man who kept mostly to himself. After helping defeat Exar Kun, though, the clone became more confident in himself and his abilities in the Force.
Tionne, a brilliant musician and historian. In terms of the Force, Tionne had the weakest connection of Luke's original students, but her knowledge in ancient Jedi history more than made up for that. She also had a gorgeous singing voice, and often sang for the students, retelling the heroic adventures of famous Jedi Masters like Djinn Altis, Nomi Sunrider, and Yoda.
Cilghal, the Jedi healer of the group. Originally an ambassador from Calamari, Cilghal had joined the Academy at the recommendation of Leia shortly after Admiral Daala's attack on the peaceful ocean world. She had a remarkable gift for healing, and helped save Mon Mothma from a wasting disease. Now, she was teaching others how to use their powers for healing.
Streen, an old hermit from Bespin. He was the quietest in the group, and often went out in the jungle to meditate in solitude. The old man had a knack for predicting and manipulating the weather, which helped the Jedi considerably in times past. Although Streen was still uneasy being around people, he remained close friends with the original students, particularly Kirana Ti.
It was these Jedi, and more, who would help Luke and Leanna Kai in their latest mission--to stop the rise of the new Black Sun, and save Luke's daughter and nephew.
"How soon will we be there?" Luke asked Leanna Kai, who remained still in the copilot's seat. It was she who had provided the coordinates for Garkonis. Despite his attempts at conversation, the mysterious woman remained unnervingly silent during most of the flight.
"Almost two hours," Leanna replied in a cold, deadpan voice. "Garkonis is located on the farthest side of the Bright Jewel. Hopefully, Boba Fett is there, and won't be leaving any time soon."
"I hope so, too," Luke said in a soft, barely heard whisper. He looked over at Leanna and felt an inner storm of emotions raging in her mind. Apparently, she was both anticipating and dreading meeting the famous masked bounty hunter once again. For perhaps the hundredth time today, Luke wondered what Boba Fett had done to this woman.

A good distance away from the Millennium Falcon, a smaller ship trailed after it. Boba Fett watched, face unreadable behind the Mandalorian mask, as the YT- 1300 freighter headed for the Bright Jewel System. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Leanna Kai," he said.

Callista and Cray could do nothing more than watch as the Shapeshifter was slowly drawn toward the cavernous hangar bay of the Fallen Moon, held by the enormous ship's tractor beam. As the seconds melted slowly away, Callista could barely make out the small shapes of black-cloaked warriors standing near the entrance, awaiting its newest catch. Kerash.
"That's my ship," Cray said, her eyes dark with fury. "The people who did this to me are inside that ship." Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair so hard that the nails almost sliced clean through them, as if they were melted butter. "When I find Armenia, I swear I will--"
"Calm down," Callista said, laying a hand on the droid's arm. She could feel Cray's muscles ripple with tension under her fingers, muscles strong enough to rip the hide off a bantha. "You may be strong, but you're also outnumbered. We won't be doing anyone any good if we end up martyrs."
"They'll kill us, no matter what," Cray pointed out. Callista nodded, barely able to swallow a large lump in her throat. She was not prepared to face the Kerash again. Not at all.
"You're right," she said. "But we have to cooperate with them. It's the best way to survive so we can defeat them." Her eyes turned to Cray, pleading. "Promise me you won't try anything rash." Cray bit her lips hard, as if considering her options. After a moment, she finally acquiesced.
"Very well," she said. "Breaking necks will come later, I suppose." She barely had time to utter those words before the Shapeshifter was completely engulfed by the Fallen Moon. The Kerash warriors quickly surrounded the ship as it touched the metallic deck, their staffs drawn out. Their faces were hidden from their black hoods.
Callista sighed--trying with only a little success to release the growing fear she felt--and turned to Cray. "Here goes nothing," she said, as she shut off the Shapeshifter's engines. The two women unbuckled their crash webbing and walked out of the cockpit, unarmed, ready to face whatever fate the Kerash warriors had in store for them. Callista knew that she could fight them--with her Force abilities and Cray's strength, they would make a formidable team--but it would accomplish nothing, other than getting the two of them killed.
How she wished Luke was here.
Callista opened the Shapeshifter's ramp, and the two stepped outside, where the cold, sterile air of the Fallen Moon hit them full-force, sending small prickles of goosebumps down her skin. They stood side by side, unflinching, as the circle of Kerash warriors closed in on them. One of them stepped forth, pulling back her black hood, and revealing Armenia.
The woman Callista had fought deep within the bowels of the Underworld.
The woman who had been responsible for the attack on her family.
The woman who had taken her daughter.
Callista felt a fresh storm of anger as she met Armenia's eyes, but she managed to quell it down--just barely. Calm, she said to herself. I need to remain calm.
"Hello, Skywalker," Armenia said in a cool, emotionless voice. "I have been waiting for you."
"Well, did you honestly think I'd sit around while you had my daughter and nephew and planned to destroy the universe?" Callista replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Speaking of which, where's Hope and Anakin?"
"They're here, and unharmed...for now at least," the woman said. "Of course, that could change at any moment. Now that you're our prisoner, I will expect your complete cooperation." Armenia's eyes then shifted over to Cray, as if she had just noticed her for the first time. Her emerald irises slightly widened in surprise. "Cray?" she said.
The droid nodded, not at all impressed. Hello, Armenia," she said. "I see that even after all I've done for you, you still didn't even bother to rescue me after I was captured."
"Well, I...I thought you were dead," Armenia stammered, showing true, genuine fear for the first time since Callista had encountered her on Coruscant. "We all did. We had no choice but to--"
"I was your leader!" Cray snapped, with enough force to sent a shudder down Callista's bones. "And you betrayed me!"
Before Callista knew it, the droid was moving forward, her fist striking out in a backhand across Armenia's face that snapped her head to the right, nearly knocking the Kerash warrior off her feet.
"Cray, no!" she shouted, but it was too late. The other Kerash warriors got their weapons ready, prepared to defend themselves, but Armenia held one hand up.
"No!" she demanded. "This is between Cray and me." Wiping a thin stream of blood from her lower lip, she managed a crooked smile toward the droid.
"What are you smiling at?" Cray demanded, her fists held up in a fighting stance. "Come on, fight me!"
"That actually hurt," Armenia said, half-amused, half-angry. "You poor, stupid piece of plastic. You were never our leader. You were a tool from the start, Cray. Nothing more."
"Stop talking and start fighting!" Cray shouted, baring her teeth. It was all she could do to keep from snapping Armenia's head off right then and there.
Armenia shrugged. "So be it." Then she did something Callista had never seen before. The Kerash warrior made a mad dash toward the enraged droid with quicksilver speed. She seemed about to tackle Cray, just as the droid swung an uppercut for the chin-- --and flipped high into the air, using Cray's shoulders for support. Armenia landed right behind the droid--who was looking around in confusion, wondering where her opponent had gone--and grabbed her by the back of her jumpsuit.
The white-skinned woman pressed her knee against Cray's spine and bent backwards, pitching the droid over her head and down. Cray flew back a good distance and fell on her stomach, stunned from the surprise attack. She looked up as Armenia glared down at her as if she was a pitiful slave.
"I can do far worse than that to you if you dare challenge me again," she snapped, venom dripping from her voice. She motioned for two of the other Kerash warriors to bind the droid. "Take her to the detention block," she said. "We'll melt her into scrap before the day is out."
As Cray was dragged out, unable to doing anything other than weakly struggle with her wrist-cuffs, Armenia looked over at Callista. "And as for you," she said, "I believe someone here wishes to meet you."
Callista didn't even have time to utter a response before a green, reptilian hand rested on her shoulder from behind. Callista shivered as she felt the cool, strong hand rest upon her shoulder. An almost-electrical shock ran through her body, causing the goosebumps already covering her skin to swell even further. She had no idea who the hand belonged to--and yet, somehow, she already knew the answer. Armenia looked over Callista's shoulder, nodding at whoever was standing behind her, and followed the two warriors dragging Cray away. Slowly, the rest of the crowd followed suit, leaving Callista alone in the enormous docking bay.
Well, not quite alone.
"Turn around," a voice calmly said, soft and commanding, like silken honey. Callista obliged, slowly turning as if being pulled on an invisible leash-- could it be the Force?--and faced a tall, green-skinned humanoid. A Falleen, she instantly recognized, for she had known many of them when she had been a Jedi apprentice. Very alien, but strangely handsome, perhaps even more so than most humans she had ever seen. And as she looked deep into his orange eyes, she knew who this man was. The man whose face had dwarfed the holovid screen in the MedCenter. The man who had taken the entire world of Coruscant by surprise with his apparent resurrection from death. The man who had ripped her daughter, her own flesh and blood, away from her.
"Xizor," Callista said, her voice thick with contempt and disgust. It was not a question, and they both knew it.
"You've heard of me," Xizor said, not at all surprised. He lifted his hand from her shoulder, and traced his clawed fingers slowly--sensuously--down her arm. "And you are Callista, wife of the vaunted Jedi Master. You are far more beautiful in person."
Callista immediately drew away from the man, rubbing the tingling in her arm from where he had touched her. It felt as if a granite slug had been crawling across her skin.
"Don't touch me," she said in a cold, even voice, and she meant every word she said. "Where's my daughter? I know you have her."
Xizor nodded. "Very good. Yes, the little brat is here, as is the other one. The boy."
"Why are you doing this?" Callista asked, still clutching her arm. "Why did you take my Hope away from me? What's in this for you?" Xizor made a move as if to touch her again, but Callista stepped back. She didn't want to feel his clammy hand upon her skin again. Not because she hated the sensation.
Because she had enjoyed it.
"Power," Xizor then said, gesturing with both hands around the bay. "These Kerash mean nothing to me, Callista. Only absolute power over the New Republic. I kidnapped your daughter because I knew she was the perfect ransom. If I had the daughter of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, I could do anything that pleased me. How else could I have ordered the entire evacuation of Coruscant?"
Callista shook her head, no longer wishing to hear the words of this madman. "You'll never get away with this. My husband will find us, and when that happens..."
The Dark Prince merely chuckled. "You are so naive, my sweet," he said. "You see, Skywalker will never find us. Nor will anyone else in the Republic. For I plan to accompany these Kerash to their homeworld...where I shall marry you."
She recoiled in an instant, glaring gray daggers at the man who stood before her. "NEVER!" she shouted, her voice resonating in the chamber.
"You do not have any say in this matter," Xizor said, with so much arrogance that Callista was more than tempted to reach out to him and snap him in two. "Once we are married, I will have you under my complete control. You will be my Queen, and once we return to Coruscant, we shall rule side by side over our new empire. The Republic would not dare interfere, should they risk endangering your life."
Callista could hardly believe what she was hearing. She couldn't take it anymore. "If you think I'm going to so much as touch you, you're very--"
Before she could finish, she felt a strange sensation overcome her, softening her thoughts as if she had just taken a deep sedatitve. All the anger she felt evaporated like water under Tatooine's scorching twin suns, and as she looked upon Xizor, she wanted nothing more than to hold his body next to hers. To feel his powerful muscles ripple under her hands, to taste the sweetness of his mouth as she kissed him.
No! her mind shouted, almost snapping her out of her trance-like state. Don't give in! Think of Hope...and Luke... Luke...
Callista kept thinking of her husband, how she missed him, and longed to see him again, but the strange feeling covered her like a blanket she could not see but feel, suffocating her, controlling her thoughts and feelings.
Luke...help me...Xizor... No! I love Luke! I will always love Luke! Always, always always...
"Do not resist, my pet," Xizor said, his voice so beautiful and mellifluous in Callista's ears, it was like the soft singing of a crieka bird early in the chilly morning. "You are merely delaying the inevitable. You know what you truly want, Callista. You cannot lie to yourself."
Callista shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut, trying with all her might to concentrate on fighting. Keep...fighting... Must...think of Luke... I love Luke...I love...
"Xizor," Callista finally said, barely audible, not even above a whisper, but heard just the same. She looked up slowly and time started to slow as she penetrated Xizor's eyes, the core of his being. Any and all thoughts of Luke and her longing to see him again vanished into oblivion, cast away by a strange power she had no understanding of.
She didn't care.
Before she could form any rational thoughts, Callista quickly closed the gap she had formed between herself and Xizor, and he gathered her into a powerful embrace. Her lips locked onto his seconds after, feeling his long reptilian tongue caressing her own. He gripped her by the cheeks and returned the kiss, strong enough to almost bruise the inside of her mouth. The two stood there for a long time, locked in a passionate embrace. In the back of Callista's mind, she knew that what she was doing was wrong, that it was a betrayal to Luke and the rest of her family. And yet...it no longer mattered to her anymore.

No one had spoken in the small cell in a long time. Hope, Anakin, and Llia all either sat or stood in three different corners of the room. Anakin remained on the uncomfortable cot, while Hope used the cold wall as a brace, while sitting on the floor, trying to keep her eyes off Llia. The older girl seemed uneasy, the confidence she had exuded while speaking with Xizor long gone. Good, Hope thought with a good amount of disgust. You ought to feel bad about what you've done. Hope had no idea how long this lasted: four or five hours, at the most. And yet, it felt almost like years.
After a while, she found the uncomfortable silence to be extremely unnerving. She almost wished for someone to speak.
Then, as if on cue, she got her wish. "I'm sorry," Llia finally blurted out, almost too quickly for Hope to understand. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if the room had suddenly grown very cold. "I'm sorry that I had to do this to you."
Hope was tempted to say something really nasty to the older girl. Who did she think she was? First she went around pretending to be Hope's friend, then ended up stabbing her in the back, and now she was sorry about it? Then Hope stopped herself. Mommy and Daddy had always told her that yelling never made things better. And Llia did seem genuine when she said that she was sorry. Maybe there was more to this than Hope thought.
Perhaps Llia had no choice.
There was only one way to find out. "Why did you do it?" Hope asked, trying to sound as nice as possible. "I thought you were my friend."
"Well...I didn't have any choice," Llia said, confirming Hope's thoughts. "That woman who slapped you...Armenia...she's my cousin."
That caught Hope's attention. She looked over at the older girl, stunned. "Your cousin?" she said.
Llia nodded. "She's the only family I've known in a long time. When my family died, she took me in. She made sure that I was fed, clothed, and taken care of. She showed me how to fight, how to be a warrior...how to serve Arak."
Arak? The name sounded funny in Hope's mind. "Who's that?" she asked.
"The goddess of the Kerash," Llia explained. "For a really long time, my people have been preparing for her arrival." "Well, where is she now?"
"I'm not sure," Llia said. "Armenia told me that Arak resides in Raximidaj. It's supposed to be an alternate dimension, where pure evil reigns. Legend says that if the doorway to that dimension is opened, Arak will be brought into our universe."
Hope was confused by what the older girl was saying. She had never heard of this Arak before; Daddy sure never mentioned her in his Force lessons, and he knew everything. Was she even real?
"How is the doorway opened? she asked.
"It requires a Trinity of Blood," Llia replied, her voice slightly higher, tinged with excitement. "A child is chosen from one of the villages on our world, and taken to Arak's temple, where the priests cleanse them of their goodness, until only evil is left. It usually takes years for the child to be purified, and when he or she finally is, the remaining two are chosen from offworld...two who share a special bond that cannot be broken."
As Llia said those words, Hope felt a sinking feeling deep in her gut. Two who share a special bond that cannot be broken... She and Anakin had shared a mental rapport ever since her birth on Dathomir. Together, they managed to save Mommy and Daddy from death. And if what Llia was saying was true, then...
"Once the Trinity is formed, the blood of the two with the connection is drawn," Llia said. "And the purified child drinks it." As she spoke, her voice became more eerie with every word. "Armenia says that it will open the portal leading into Raximidaj, and Arak will be reborn."
Hope remembered the dream she had had on Coruscant, shortly before she had been taken away by Armenia. Of the black figures dancing around her. The blood spilling across her vision... And that was when she realized the meaning of her dream.
It was her blood.

Garkonis hung in the thick blackness of space like a gigantic green marble as the Millennium Falcon closed in. "There it is," Luke said, his blue eyes taking in the view. "Garkonis."
"And hopefully Boba Fett," Leanna added coldly, fidgeting in her seat.
"The Falcon's sensors are picking up a cluster of buildings on the far side of the planet," Luke observed. "That's gotta be the Imperial base. I'm not picking up any other buildings on the planet."
"Garkonis is a jungle world," Leanna explained. "It has been uninhabited for centuries, due to its extremely humid climate and dangerous terrain. Which is exactly why the Imperials chose it as a place to establish one of their main bases in this system."
"And if everything goes according to plan," Luke said, "we should find Boba Fett on Garkonis...and then we will finally get some real answers."
Leanna nodded. "Indeed," was all she said.
"Leanna, could you tell everyone in the back to get ready?" Luke asked. "I plan to land the Falcon as close to the base as we can to avoid having to go through the jungle, probably near the Jrinjan Plateau. So we'll have to move quickly." The white-skinned woman nodded and headed for the rear compartment, while Luke guided the Falcon through the planet's atmosphere, unknowing of the smaller ship slowly trailing after it.

"No, no, no! For the hundredth time, we're trying to find our brother and cousin!" Jaina shouted over the intercom.
"Nice going, Jaina," Jacen groaned as he watched the three robotic police vessels surround the freighter on all sides, forming a tight triangle around them so that there was no possible way of escape. "You just had to go over the speed limit, didn't you?"
"It was an accident," Jaina snapped back. "Besides, how was I supposed to know that the Rimdarians had speed limits on hyperspace?" One of the fish- like Rimdarian officers shouted over the speakers in his native tongue, which sounded like two fragile bubbles rubbing against each other. "I can't understand you, sir! Do you speak Basic?"
"Hahlejlgtam ljadiugoiao lljljle ljalhfaudop ljeljlejl ljagiyrtja oauodufoahlk," was the officer's reply.
Jaina heaved a melodramatic sigh. These guys were really. Getting. On. Her. Last. Nerve. "DO...YOU...SPEAK...BASIC?" she asked, stretching each word out long and slow so that the officer could hopefully understand what she was saying.
After a few minutes, another voice replaced the previous Rimdarian, thankfully in a language she could understand. "You have broken the speed limit within this system. We must ask that you give us your name and age."
Jaina swallowed hard. She wasn't old enough to be flying a spaceship; she had to be at least sixteen years old for that. If these guys found out...
"Um, my name is...Zaydie Spacewood. And I'm twenty-six." The officer hesitated. "You sure don't sound like you're twenty-six, young lady."
"Um...eighteen?"
"Nope."
Jaina was growing desperate. "Sixteen?"
"Try again."
Finally, admitting her defeat, Jaina sighed and told the truth. "I seven and a half. There, you happy?"
"I see. I'm afraid that you will have to come with us, young lady. And your ship will have to be confiscated for the time being."
"I can't believe this," Jaina groaned as the police prepared to board the ship. "We're going to jail now."
"No way!" Jacen said. "We're only kids. How can we be sent to jail?" "Apparently, dear brother, you don't know about the Rimdarians as well as I do," Jaina said. "According to the Rimdarian code of laws, anyone caught committing an offense of any kind has to go to jail."
Jacen gulped. "Anyone?"
Jaina nodded. "Afraid so."
Jacen slumped in his seat, looking as deflated as a balloon. "I wonder what prison food tastes like," he said.
"I bet it's better than hospital food," Jaina replied.

The week after her mother's death, the funeral was held on the cliff, near their home. As long as Callista could remember, Mama and Papa had wished that when they died, they would be buried at the beach where they had spent so many of their years of happiness. But they had never dreamed it would be like this.
Callista watched with a deep, frightening coldness as her mother's casket was flung over the funereal cliff into the deep sea, and the priest began the Chadrian song of death. She had not spoken to anyone for the entire week, had not slept, or even eaten. Papa was worried for her, said that she was starving herself and had to eat something.
It barely registered in her mind.
When people had asked her father how her mother had died, he had simply called the incident an "accident," not telling anyone about the suicide, or Callista's involvement in it. All she could see now was holding her mother's pale, cold hand in the refresher as she slowly died. How she just watched as the life went from her mother's eyes, and was unable to do anything to save her. And this was all her fault. Because of her, she would never see her mother again. Her mother would never call her "Lissy" again, or make her breakfast, or ask her how she was doing in school, or kiss her good night. Her, or Josef, or Maya, or Arkna.
Or Papa.
And it's all because of me, she thought to herself. Beside her, Arkna was fighting so hard to keep the tears from falling, whereas Maya was sobbing so hard she was bent double. Josef also cried, as did Uncle Claine, and Papa stood frozen, as if he still couldn't believe that Mama was dead. He wasn't crying--Papa was too strong to cry, he was the strongest man Callista had ever known--but Callista could feel his pain. Even after a week, he was still in shock over Mama's death, was still in denial. It would probably be a while before the reality would sink in, and Papa would no longer be able to hide from the truth.
The priest continued singing, the song in the ancient Chadrian language. It was beautiful and soothing in Callista's ears, but it did little to make her feel better. It reminded her of how her mother always sang to her when she couldn't sleep...
That was the last straw. Callista turned and ran off, away from the funeral, away from her grief-stricken family, away from her mother's pale, lifeless body that still haunted her in her mind. She didn't know where she was going, but it had to be better than remaining back there. She heard Papa call her name, demanding that she come back, but she didn't listen, and continued running. She ran until she was over on the other side on the island. She stopped when she reached the Twin Caves, almost out of breath, and a searing pain stabbing her in the side. As she tried to catch her breath, she seated herself on a large rock overlooking the surf. The blue, foamy waves crashed peacefully against the shore, like music to her ears. Callista normally came here whenever she felt depressed, or lonely, or just wanted to escape from real life, get away from it all.
Now, she needed this sanctuary more than ever. As Callista looked on at the crashing waves--accompanied by a cool burst of wind from the overcast sky--a brief image flickered in her eyes. Her mother, running alongside the shore with Callista, when she was barely two years old, laughing as their feet slapped against the wet sand. Happier times. Happier times she would never see again.
"Lissy."
Callista whirled at the sound of her mother's voice. For a brief, fleeting moment, she thought that she would find Mama standing behind her, welcoming her with a hug and a kiss, and assure her that she was all right--
--and saw nothing. Just a small blue lizard perched on the rock, flicking its pointy tongue at the little girl. Sighing with disappointment, Callista turned back and continued gazing at the endless ocean. I was just hearing things, she thought, burying her face in her hands. She would not cry. She would not cry.
"My daughter..."
This time, Callista knew that she heard her mother's voice. The little girl stood up and looked around the area, hoping against hope that she would find her mother, alive and well.
"Mama?" she called, her voice carrying over the lagoon. "Mama, where are you?"
"Over here, Lissy."
She turned toward her left--she was sure the voice was coming from there-- and saw her mother. She was dressed in a flowing white gown that went down to her ankles; her hair flowed down her back like a black cascade of water, blowing in the wind. She looked more gorgeous than Callista had ever seen her before.
"Mama!" An elated shout of joy escaped Callista's lips as she ran toward her mother. Barely able to contain the happiness she felt, she reached out to hug her--
--and passed right through her body. Callista stopped dead in her tracks, her heart almost skidding to a stop. She slowly turned back and saw her mother still standing there, a smile on her face. But she couldn't touch her.
"Mama?" she gasped, almost choking on her own words. "I...you're..."
She nodded sadly. "Yes. I'm dead, Lissy," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, Mama," Callista said, feeling the slightest river of tears pooling in her gray eyes. "I miss you."
"Then why did you kill me?" her mother demanded, her voice suddenly changing, taking on a deeper tone. Callista stepped back, shocked by her mother's words. "What? Mama...I-I-I didn't kill you..."
"Oh, but you did," the ghost retorted, her voice growing into a frightening growl. "I gave you everything, Callista. I gave you life, a home, a family. I gave you everything I could, and you shut me out of your life! You never loved me."
Callista squeezed her eyes shut and covered both ears, as if that would make the ghost go away. "No!" she shouted, shaking her head over and over again. "That's not true! You're a liar! I do love you. I love you very much!"
She screamed as her mother snatched her by the wrist, forcing her to look her in the eyes. "You can't even lie to yourself, Callista!" the demon roared, her eyes blazing with red fire. "You never could. My death is only the beginning. The future holds so much more pain and darkness for you and your family. And no one will be able to save you." She dug her fingers--now transformed into claws--into Callista's jaw, drawing a small gasp of pain from the little girl.
"Have a look, my sweet!"
Images flashed before Callista's eyes: dark, terrifying images that she had never seen before.
Of her, a teenager now, wielding a lightsaber in the midst of a bloody battle.
Of her on board a ship of some kind, surrounded by explosions.
Fully grown, battling warriors draped in black on a snowy landscape.
Fighting a woman with white-skin and emerald eyes, in the center of an arena with spectators cheering on.
Surrounded by a group of cloaked beings, their chants and cackles shattering her eardrums.
Standing over someone's body--Was it a man or a woman? Was he or she dead?--and screaming with rage and grief, tears masking her face. As these images danced around in her head--taunting her, screaming at her, driving her to the point of insanity--the lagoon seemed to vanish, replaced by the same snow-covered landscape she had seen earlier.
And she was now lying on the ground, years older now--she wasn't sure how old. Almost naked, and bloodied, as if she had just fought in a battle. Women wearing black robes surrounded her, and as she looked over to her right, she saw a man lying next to her. He was almost dead, his ribs struck by an arrow. He was looking over at her, fear and love shining in his beautiful blue eyes. He reached out and clasped her hand. "Forever," he whispered.
Callista nodded, returning the grip, as a shadow fell over her. Her eyes slowly crawled back so that she was looking straight up--
--to stare in her mother's face as she held a mallet and a stake in her hands and prepared to nail her palm into the ground. "NO!" Her mother laughed as she drove the stake deep within her flesh, and everything went black...
Callista came to with a shriek of terror, her hands clamped against the sides of her head. Gasping, she looked around, and remembered where she was. Xizor had Callista sent to a room adjacent to his own, but with fortified locks on all the doors. Still she paced like a jungle cat in a zoo, checking and rechecking windows, closets, suspicious-looking wall panels, looking for any secret passages or faults in Xizor's security. But Xizor's security was impeccable. Guilt washed over her every second, as she remembered the Dark Prince's lips against her own, his hands on her body. What made her all the more sick was how much she had wanted it. What would she tell Luke? Could she tell him? She wasn't even sure she had the courage to admit that she had betrayed him. She didn't know if he would ever forgive her...
Furious, she picked up an expensive-looking vase and hurled it at the wall. It shattered into millions of pieces with a horrendous crash. The crash echoed into the room's silence, rescued only by her own irrythmic breathing.
I've got to get out of here... Hope! Hope, my darling...where are you? The doors opened as if in answer. Callista whirled around, her eyes wide and her face full of anticipation.
But it was Xizor.
"Anxious, my pet?" he hissed. He stepped closer, but she took a step back. She noticed two guards behind him, each brandishing a thin, wicked silver blade. Xizor paced quietly to the wall and crouched beside the broken vase.
"Hmm...a pity. That was quite expensive. I shall have to order another." He looked up at her. "But it's no matter, dear." Wiping his hands, he stood up. "Some rather...disturbing news has come to my attention."
Callista moved to the table, on the end opposite him, never tearing her eyes from him. She could feel his allure washing over her, and with all her might she tried to resist it...
...but still, she felt her urgent desire that he would lie her on the long ebony table between them and... She shook her head, and bit her lip hard to shake herself back into reality.
"Really," she said without emotion. Uneasily, she was aware that the two guards accompanying him were coming closer to her.
"Yes. My sources tell me that you...are with child." He looked at Callista appraisingly, like a father prodding a child to confess on her own. "Is this true?"
Callista tensed.
Xizor nodded. "That's what I thought." He raised a finger. The guards behind her grabbed her by the arms and forced her down on the table. She kicked at them futilely, but they were so strong...
"No! Get off me! Leave me alone!" Frantically, she fumbled for the Force, but she was in no way calm.
Xizor circled the table and stood to face her. "Oh, my dear...if I am to marry you, do you really think that I want anything of Skywalker's left behind? Don't move, or they will miss and have to do it again." He reached out and touched her stomach, just below her navel. "There," he said.
And walked away.
"NO!" Callista screamed, thrashing against the ebony. One of the guards pulled out his knife--
--and jabbed it into her stomach. "NO!" As she sank into unconsciousness, she reached out and touched the tiny presence within her, tried to urge it back to life. But it was a mere cinder, dimming, dimming... In a matter of moments, that cinder became nothing more than a gray, dead flake of ash.

They treated Callista's wound quickly, so there was little blood loss.
But still, the wound had served its purpose.
Callista lay on the bed in her room, curled into a tiny, self-contained ball. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she desperately reached out through the Force, searching for any trace sign of the baby that had once been there.
Nothing.
"Come back...come back," she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her face contorted into a grimace. "I'm so sorry, Ben..." She'd known it was a boy; it was as clear to her as her own name. She and Luke had long ago decided that their first son would be named Ben.
But now, he would not come. For a moment, Callista wondered if she'd still be able to have children at all, after this.
Then she wondered if Luke would even want to have anything to do with her, let alone have children with her, after this.
She shook with racking sobs, long into the night.

Luke slept little the night before they were to land on the planet. He dreamed of Callista. She was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room, knees drawn to her chest. Her body shook as she cried. Luke sat beside her, reached out and touched her shoulder.
She turned up and looked at him. "He's gone," she said, simply.
Before Luke could ask her what she meant, the heavy door flew open, banging loudly against the wall. Prince Xizor himself stood there, one clawed hand outstretched. He jerked awake, sweating, panting. He was alone in the darkness.

"Push, Callista! Come on, you can do it!"
"I'm right here, Callie. I'm here for you. You'll be all right."
The rest of Geith's words were drowned out when Callista screamed again. The last thirteen hours had all been the same, filled with pain, like a white-hot lightsaber slicing through her stomach.
"Okay, Callista, you need to stop pushing now," a healer knight named Samon told her.
"Why isn't she coming out?" she whimpered, exhausted. Her head fell back against Geith's arm. His hand squeezed hers every so often. He kissed her temple, and let his mouth rest there for just a few moments.
"What's going on?" Geith asked Samon.
"Samon!" Katrinna Ghalas called from the door. "You about done there?"
"Why?" Samon didn't even turn to face her.
"There's another one across the hall."
"What?!" Callista cried, raising her head to stare at Ghalas. As far as she knew, there was only one other pregnant woman on Belsavis...
"I'll be there in a few minutes," Samon said. He turned his attention back to Callista. "Okay, Callista. Don't panic. That's the last thing any of us want to do."
"Why would I panic?" she asked, suddenly scared ten times more.
"Your hips are too narrow. The baby can't get out."
"What does that mean?" Geith asked.
Samon looked at him as if to say, Not now.
"Oh, stars." Callista moaned.
"Reach out, Callista," Samon told me. "We'll do what we can...bring her out slowly."
Callista squeezed her eyes shut, tears of pain, exhaustion and fear trickled down her cheeks.
"Callie," Geith whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. "I love you. Hang in there."
She released a shuddering, gasping breath. "Help me, Geith," she pleaded. Then she reached out through the Force, deep within herself to where the baby was trapped-
There. She wasn't moving, her own simple fear had stayed her progress. Even two months early, she was too big, or Callista was too small. She would have to move the bone, stretch it, make room for her to get out. Gingerly, carefully, Callista set to work, reassuring the baby that everything was going to be okay as she grabbed onto the bones with invisible hands, and then she began to pull.
Raw, searing pain from between her legs told her it was working, adding itself to the sharp, repeating contractions. She couldn't divert her attention to calming it now...giving in to that weakness would kill them both. Instead, she screamed.
Geith stepped in, using his own talents to soothe over the burning edges of pain.
"I see her!" Samon cried. "I can see the head."
Geith squeezed her hand. "It's almost over, darling. Almost there."
"All right, Callista, one more push." Samon coaxed. "And...she's...out!"
A new, shaky, bleating cry joined theirs. Callista opened my eyes, releasing the hold on her bones and exhaling. She was shaking, and even that reflex seemed like a chore.
Samon wrapped the baby in a blanket. "A lovely baby girl," he said, handing the bundle to her.
She took her greedily, like one starving and being offered bread. Her arms were so sapped of strength that Geith had to help her hold her.
"You did it, Callie," he said gently, kissing her softly.
"We did it," she corrected him, exhaling and taking in her first breath in what seemed like thirteen hours. She gently lifted the baby to her lips and kissed her fuzzy head. "You're so little, baby," she whispered. "How can you have caused so much trouble?"
Geith chuckled. "What are we going to name her?"
"Kara," Callista said, knowing absolutely that that was meant to be her name. "Her name is Kara."

Callista laid back against the wall in her room, looking as pale as the dead, her eyes staring off blankly into nothingness. The sobbing had finally stopped, the tears sticky on her face. And yet she made no move to wipe them off.
It didn't matter any more. Nothing mattered to her anymore. She felt a dull emptiness deep within her womb, where the child had been before it had been horribly ripped away from her. Just hours before, it had been glowing with a new life, slowly growing before it was ready to be released into the world. Her own son, a boy she would have loved with all her heart. And now...
A deep, powerful hatred was aroused in her, dark and terrifying, something she had never felt before in her entire life. She had felt anger before, true, and had almost fallen to the dark side more than once. But not like this. She wanted revenge. She wanted Xizor's blood on her hands. She wanted to break his neck, and gut him clean, and lick the blood off her hands. She wanted to kill every last person on this ship. And she would soon have her opportunity, as soon as--
Then she thought of Luke. The man she loved more than anything in her life, and the man she had trusted the most. She had not even had the opportunity to tell him of the new treasure she had had in her womb, that they would now have a son, someone Hope could play with, another child to be proud of. What could she tell him now? That the unborn baby she had kept from him was now dead, ruthlessly murdered by the man she had not so long ago felt a burning desire to kiss?
For a brief second, she wished that she would never get the opportunity to see her husband again. Because she knew that he would never forgive her for this. Suddenly, it all made sense to her. These dreams she had been having, of her childhood, of her crucifixion on Dathomir, and of Kara's birth. All had ended in tragedy, with her mother committing suicide, her own death at the hands of the Nightsisters, and Kara being taken away by the Imperials.
It had been a warning of Ben's death.
Callista cursed herself for not having seen this before. She should have realized that she was risking her baby's life if she went to Anasazi.
And yet she ignored it, and continued on her mission anyway. Why? Because she was trying to be heroic. Callista pressed her face into the pillows, trying to shut out the plush room she had been given. She felt guilty for having snapped at Luke, having slapped Leia, and accusing her and Han of losing Hope. She had thought ridding them of the Kerash would redeem herself, would make everyone forgive her. And instead, it had cost her the life of her son.
The door suddenly slid open, sending a cold chill throughout the room. Callista slowly turned her head to see Xizor glide gracefully into the chamber, a forlorn expression on his face. Callista gnashed her teeth at the sight of the murderer, and wanted nothing more than to rip his black tongue out--
"You must feel a lot of hatred toward me," Xizor said, with mock-sadness. "You must forgive me, my pet. I had no choice. This decision was hard for me to make...I feel even worse than you do right now."
Callista easily saw through his facade; he felt no remorse whatsoever. He had taken the life of her child, and he was happy about it.
"You son of a bitch," she said in a weak, raspy voice, backed up with little strength. "You have NO IDEA what I'm feeling right now!"
"Oh, but I do," Xizor said gently, looking so incredibly handsome, despite what Callista felt toward him. "You see, I have just taken the life of an innocent. A baby who had done no harm to the galaxy. I truly did not wish to do this, but it was the only way for us to be together, don't you understand? And I feel terrible about it." Callista shook her head and looked away. She didn't want him to see the tears blocking her vision.
"How could you?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "He was my son...and you butchered him."
"We will have another child," Xizor said, stroking her hair--as Geith had done when she had given birth to Kara. "One that will be even better. Stronger...like us. Once Black Sun is in control over Coruscant, we can have as many children as we want. We'll have a family of our own, my pet."
Callista sank to her knees. "You bastard," she whispered through shuddering tears. "You bastard...bastard..."
"Yes, I am. Let me make it up to you. If you let me, Lissy, I will make you love me." Callista looked up at him, wiping her nose. For some reason, his words seemed right. She knew he was telling the truth. They would have another son together. And a daughter...and even more children.
She would get to have the family she always wanted.
His hand was extended to her, and she gingerly slipped her fingers into his palm. "Yes..." Callista whispered, feeling the strong sensation again as he lifted her from her knees. She looked down at Xizor's robe, and wanted nothing more than for him to take it off. "Yes, my love..."
Xizor smiled, and their lips joined again, more powerful and sensual than before. Callista swallowed his entire tongue, and reached down to take off the Falleen's robe.
"I love you, Xizor," Callista said, her voice muffled. "I want you more than anything else in the galaxy." Xizor smiled again, and bit into Callista's lip. She tasted blood seconds later, but didn't care. She relished the pain, and wanted more of it.
Much, much more.
Xizor's clawed fingers slithered beneath the hem of her thin blouse, sending chills up her spine as the nails traced over her bare skin. "I truly am sorry, Callista," Xizor whispered in her ear, lifting the shirt over her head. His scaly head dipped below her chin, his serpentine tongue flicking over her neck and shoulders. "So sorry."
He lifted her off her feet and kissed her left breast, then the right. It pleased him to feel her tremble. She shook her head, as the robe slowly came off.
"I forgive you," she whispered back. The rest of the night passed away into darkness.

Xizor let out a huge sigh as he awoke from his slumber, and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, his mind starting to recollect what had happened during the night. He was not in his room, but Callista's. And he was lying in her bed, with no clothing on.
And right, next to him... Callista laid on her side, her back turned to the Falleen. Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. Clearly, she was still sleeping, and would not wake up for a few more hours. Despite her disarrayed hair and sweat-soaked skin, she looked more beautiful than any woman Xizor had ever met in his life. The past few hours had been the most passionate hours of his life. Xizor had enjoyed every second of it, and from the look on Callista's eyes as she gave in to him, he could tell that she relished in it as well.
Or, at least her body did.
Xizor allowed himself a small smile as he softly stroked his clawed fingers through the woman's hair, trying not to wake her up. The poor thing probably had not had much sleep in weeks; she deserved a little rest.
Xizor had done his research, and knew that Callista was a very powerful Jedi. She was almost as adept as the great Skywalker himself, and more than capable of resisting Xizor's pheromones. But the stress from losing her children had been taking its toll on her, had clouded her focus, weakened her strength, making her easy prey. Xizor knew that he was taking a large risk doing this. The sensible thing to do was to return to Coruscant and leave her in the hands of these Kerash. He knew that murdering her son would probably mean the death of him in the not-so-distant future. For Callista could not remain under his spell forever...
Of course, if that ever did happen, the next clone would automatically reawaken.
Xizor got up a few minutes later and got dressed, careful not to create too much noise. He left the room, where he almost ran into Armenia in the corridor.
"I have been looking for you, Xizor," the white-skinned woman said. "I trust you made our guest...comfortable?" Xizor nodded, his smile deepening, showing off his fangs.
"Oh, you have no idea," he said.
Armenia chose to ignore that comment and added, "We received a transmission from Coruscant. A woman named Guri wishes to talk to you. She says that she has very important news." Xizor nodded, and headed for his personal quarters (the guest quarters on the Fallen Moon). Once he was inside and alone, he took out his comm-link and switched it on.
"Guri?" he said knowing the HRD was on the other end of the transmission.
"Price Xizor," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Good news. The evacuation was a complete success. The New Republic has withdrawn every last being from the planet. Coruscant is now ours for the taking."
Xizor nodded, despite the fact that Guri could not see him. "Good. Very, very good."
"What are your further instructions, my Lord?" "Establish our new headquarters in the Imperial Palace," the Dark Prince said. "I trust that our weapon is primed and ready."
"It is," the droid replied. "Then wait for my further instructions," Xizor said. "Things are going so well for us. In forty-eight more hours, the New Republic will cease to exist."
"My Lord," the droid said after a moment's hesitation. "When do you plan to return to Coruscant?"
Xizor pondered that answer for a long time, thinking back to Callista sleeping peacefully in bed, naked and vulnerable, her beauty and spirit so palpable..."Soon," was all he said, then terminated the transmission.
Xizor had been planning this for years now. He had been preparing for so long, and now it was time for the final blow. After forty-eight hours, the detonators Black Sun had implanted in over fifty percent of the Republic's starships would explode all at once. And the remnants would be wiped out by his own personal fleet, leaving absolutely no resistance. Xizor set the comm-link on the table and sighed. For the first time since his death, things were proceeding according to plan.