Chapter 9
"So, that's it?" Anakin said, perhaps the first time he had opened his mouth in a long time. Hope and Llia turned to face him, and Hope saw pain and anger in his blue eyes. "We're just...gonna be sacrificed like animals. And you're gonna do nothing about it?"
Llia quickly looked away, ashamed to meet the little boy's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, for the hundredth time. "But I have no choice. Armenia is my cousin; I have to obey her."
"Why do you have to obey her?" Hope demanded, forcing the older girl to look her straight in the eyes. "Because she's your blood kin?"
"No!" Llia shouted, her voice powered by so much unexpected anger that Hope was literally knocked back a few steps. "It's because I am sworn to serve the Kerash Order faithfully and wholeheartedly. I was baptized in the blood of my grandmother when I was born, forever connecting me to the link of Arak. To sever that link would mean death for me...and for you both as well."
"Well, we're going to die anyways if we just stay here," Anakin shot back, getting off the cot. His knees slightly wobbled, but he managed to remain standing. "Llia, you don't belong with these sickos. You deserve better. Help us escape. Heck, just come with us. Why do you choose to remain here?"
"You don't understand, Anakin!" Llia said, and Hope swore she saw the faintest shimmer of tears in the girl's eyes. "None of you do. Armenia is the only family I have left. I can't betray her."
Anakin opened his mouth, as if to say something else--and probably not anything good--but Hope silenced him with a hand on his arm. "She's right," Hope said softly. "We can't force her to do anything. I don't want to drag her into this mess." She looked over at Llia, and her heart went out to her. It must have been horrible for her to have been trapped in a lose-lose situation like this. "There has to be another way."
Llia's head suddenly shot up, as if she had just gotten an idea. "There might be," she said. Hope and Anakin turned to her, their attention now caught.
"What?" they both asked.
"According to our custom, slaves can buy their freedom from their masters by challenging them to a fight," Llia explained. "They must bring their case before the village council and win their approval. The duel would take place in the village square. Everyone, including the village council, would gather to watch it, and the master and the slave would fight. If the slave won, he would immediately become a free man. But if the master won...then the slave is purified."
"Purified?" Hope said, confused by Llia's choice of words. "What do you mean by that?"
"Will the slave be given a bath, or something?" Anakin asked, in a joking manner.
Llia shook her head. "Not at all," she said seriously. "The slave will be thrown into a dungeon underground, and beaten within a centimeter of his life. Our beliefs state that lower beings--people who are not of Kerash descent--carry goodness within them. Our job is to cleanse them, or "purify" them, of this goodness, leaving nothing behind but evil."
Hope didn't even realize that her mouth was hanging out in a large gaping maw as she listened to Llia explain the gruesome process. The idea of being that badly beaten chilled her. "But, how can we do that?" she asked. "We're not slaves."
"Technically, you are," Llia pointed out. "You were brought here against your will, as all slaves are. It will still work for you...if you win the duel, that is." "So...what you're saying is," Hope said as she tried to piece everything together, "is that we should challenge Armenia to a fight, and if we win, we'll be free?" Llia nodded. "It's your best shot." Hope looked over at Anakin, his uneasy expression a mirror of her own. Neither child was completely convinced that it would work. They had the Force on their side, true, but Armenia was a strong, fearsome warrior, far too powerful for the two little children. She could easily beat them in a fight, and Hope did not want to be "purified" by these monsters. She wondered who she could find who could fight Armenia.
The Unknown Regions was one of the most mysterious areas of the galaxy. Largely unexplored, sparsely uninhabited, few people within the boundaries of civilization dared to go out this far into space. Callista herself had traveled a great deal ever since she had become a Jedi Knight, and yet had never had a chance to visit the Unknown Regions.
Until now.
She stood on the bridge of the Fallen Moon, next to Xizor, who towered over her a good foot and a half. He stood behind her, stroking her hair. Occasionally his fingers traced her back, bare in the gown he'd put her in. The touch of his scaly flesh sent a shiver of self-loathing through her.
Callista's mind was sickened by his touch, and wanted to pull away from him, but her body said otherwise, and she could do nothing to resist. Silently, Callista cursed herself for being so weak. Ever since she had graduated from Master Djinn's class, she had prided herself in being his most powerful student. Her Force abilities were practially unmatched, her strength and stamina limitless. She had always thought of herself as a physically and mentally strong person...
And now, here she was, letting herself being seduced by the madman who had murdered her son, unable to fight back...at least for now.
She felt violated, raped, dirty. She had betrayed Luke in the worst way possible, and he did not even know about it. She felt that she no longer deserved him...and could not forgive herself for this. Callista glanced down at her abdomen. The bleeding had stopped long ago, the tiny mass of tissue that would have become her son removed, but she would always carry a scar, now, until the day she died. She would always be reminded of the new little being she had carried in her womb, still so young and helpless, not ready to be born...torn away from her at the blink of an eye.
Callista fidgeted a little, causing Xizor to look over at her, an obviously fake look of concern on his face. Callista smiled at him as sweet as she could, reassuring him that she was fine. Unbeknownst to him, however, the smile translated as, You sick son of a bitch. The minute you release me from your thrall, I'm going to rip your throat out and smash your head into little green pieces.
And Callista meant every word of it. Xizor could not keep this up forever. He was seriously delusional if he thought she was going to marry him, thrall or not. She knew he would let his guard down sooner or later. And when he did...she would be ready. One way or another, she would have her revenge.
"Almost there," Armenia said off to their left. "Anasazi really is a beautiful world. It has been a long time since I have last seen it."
Callista glared over at the other woman when she wasn't looking. Armenia was no better than Xizor; none of these Kerash were. They had stolen her daughter and nephew, to use them as sacifices for their so-called "goddess". She would make sure that all of these people would get what they deserved when she got the chance.
The Fallen Moon exited out of hyperspace moments later, and Callista's eyes settled on the enormous planet crowding the bridge's viewscreen--Anasazi, she presumed. It was large, larger than even the gas giant of Yavin. However, its terrain resembled that of Yavin 4, jungles and more jungles. A vast blue ocean split the enormous contintent in two, like a great barrier. "We'll be landing in my home village, Semaj," Armenia explained. "There, you and the other prisoners will be presented before the village council. And from there...you'll be taken the the Temple of Arak."
"Where are the children?" Callista suddenly demanded. It felt like years since she had last seen Hope...
"You'll get a chance to see them soon enough," Armenia snapped. "But not until we land."
Xizor's hand tightened around Callista's; a silent warning, perhaps. Callista managed to calm down a little, but she would not feel peace until she was reunited with Hope and Anakin again.
How she wished Luke was here now.
*
The chanting of the Kerash priests resounded through the Grand Chamber of Arak as the High Priest freed Kinshur from his dark, lonely prison and led him toward the altar. The black-robed priests were gathered in a half- circle around the altar, chanting in the ancient Anasazi language, calling upon the will of Arak.
The Grand Chamber was by far the largest room in the temple. Lit up by over thousands of torches bolted into the marbled walls, with a golden-carved altar placed upon a dais in the center of the chamber, and a massive skyroof in the shape of a crescent moon in the ceiling, allowing the sun light to stream through, this was where the Ritual of the Coming would take place. This was where the goddess Arak would be reborn.
"I am frightened, Tsin," the scarred boy said in a hushed whisper. It had been years since Kinshur had been allowed to speak; he was still growing accustomed to using his voice again. Tsin, the High Priest, laid a hand on Kinshur's scrawny shoulder.
"Do not worry," he said soothingly. "Arak will be there to guide you."
The boy nodded, as if being tugged by puppet strings. "Yes," he whispered. "Arak will be there to guide me."
"Then let us begin," Tsin urged. "Armenia will soon be here with the Bond. The Third Vessel must be baptized in order for the ritual to begin." Kinshur nodded again, and two other priests came to help him up onto the altar, for the boy was so weak due to the purification that he could barely even walk. They picked him up by his arms and legs and hoisted him onto the golden altar. The circle of priests tighened around the boy, their chants growing even louder. One of the priests held out a small bowl with a steaming yellowish liquid filled almost to the rim. Tsin took it in both hands and held it over the boy's head, careful not to spill any of it.
"In my hands, I hold the blood of a sooman," Tsin began, his booming voice almost drowning out the chants. "This animal's blood represents the blood of Arak, the goddess who will bring retribution and death upon the unbelievers, and riches and rewards upon her faithful followers." He held the bowl up even further, his voice growing to a climax. "O mighty Goddess! Let the sins of the Third Vessel be absolved with your blood. Let the purification be complete so that you may enter our world, and reign it as you did in the beginning."
Kinshur closed his eyes, quietly praying to Arak in his native tongue. The chants from the other priests built to a thundering roar as Tsin held the bowl high over the boy's head-- - -and poured. The scalding blood fell upon the boy's face, burning into his flesh. Kinshur shrieked, but he was barely heard under the screams of the chanting priests. They began dancing around the altar, flailing their hands into the air in a perfectly choreographed pattern, as Tsin poured the rest of the blood upon Kinshur's face, cleansing him of the final traces of goodness he may have carried within his soul. The boy continued screaming and screaming as steam starting rising from his face, but Tsin ignored it. Pain was such a small price to pay for Arak.
"So let it be done."
The Verpine homeworld of Taragoth was a barren wasteland, devoid of any and all life save for the insectoid creatures themselves. The surface of the planet was unappealing, which mainly consisted of frequent sandstorms, dry afternoons with temperatures of up to five-hundred degrees, and freezing cold nights that made Hoth look warm in comparison. Taragoth had not always been this way, Leia knew. Thousands of years ago, way before the rise of the Old Republic, it had been a lush, bountiful planet, much like the long-dead Alderaan. An asteroid collision shortly before the Clone Wars had laid waste to the entire planetside, leaving nothing alive in its wake. Only the Verpines, who lived primarily underground, were spared from the devastation. And now, the Verpines were in danger of joining their fellow Taragothians in death, if Leia didn't stop this war.
The Hive Nest was located hundreds of feet underground, safe from the surface of Taragoth. Han, Leia, and the two Verpine B-wing pilots had just boarded a turbolift that took them downwards. They would reach the nest in a matter of minutes. No one spoke the whole trip down; there was no reason to. Leia still couldn't quell the uneasiness she felt. True, she had managed to convince the Senate to take action against Xizor, but this was an entirely different matter. It had been a long time since she had interfered in a war like this without weapons at her side. What if she couldn't convince the Verpines and the Barabels to make peace after decades of bloodshed?
As if feeling her tension, Han laid a quiet hand on her arm. Leia looked over at her husband and managed a smile, trying to hide her true feelings. So much had happened to them over the past few weeks: Anakin's kidnapping, Xizor's appearance, the evacuation of Coruscant, Callista's breakdown, the Cray HRD. She had never felt as overwhelmed as she did now, at least not since the early days of the Rebel Alliance, when she had been on the run from the Imperials, having retrieved the blueprints of the Death Star. And even then, at least she had some sort of defense to protect her. Here, she had nothing. She had only herself, and the Force, on her side. And she didn't feel that it was enough. She hoped that she would be proven wrong.
The turbolift finally stopped, and the foursome were let out, bringing forth a cold rush of air and near-darkness. Leia wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to stop her shivering. The Verpine Hive Nest closely resembled those of ants. Over hundreds of small, greenish-yellow egg sacs were buried within the rock walls. Leia knew from studying Verpine biology that the Hive Queen laid these eggs and incubated them in the walls, protecting them for approximately five months until they were ready to hatch. Until then, the eggs were extremely vulnerable and helpless--not to mention flammable.
"Lovely," Han said sarcastically, his sleeve brushing against one of the eggs, leaving a thick gooey substance on the brown leather. As Leia and Han stepped inside the chamber, Leia's eyes met those of the Hive Queen herself. She was a towering sight, standing well over twelve feet tall. Her entire body was coated with a black armor-like carapace, which was strong enough to deflect even a laser bolt. Instead of a mouth, she had large black pincers that clacked against each other over and over. A long, thin tail was draped over her shoulder, disappearing behind her broad back. Despite her ferocious exterior, Leia knew that the Hive Queen, though capable of fighting and winning, could be friendly and gentle when she wanted to be. She harbored no hostile feelings toward her or Han...not now, at least.
"Madame Chief of State," the Hive Queen spoke in a garbled, guttural voice. Leia could barely understand her, but was aware that the Queen rarely spoke with her pincers (the Verpines normally communicated telepathically with each other). "It is an honor to have you and your husband here as guests." Leia nodded, prepared to use all her diplomatic experience to the fullest.
"The honor is mine, Your Majesty," she said. "But I am afraid that the circumstances surrounding our visit is less than cheery."
The Hive Queen nodded, a simply bobbing of her angular-shaped head. "Yes. I have been informed of the tragedy on Coruscant. My deepest apologies to you and the rest of the New Republic."
"That's why we have come here," Leia said, drawing herself to her full height. "Your Majesty, we need your help. We can't defeat Black Sun on our own. The Hapans will be coming, but we need more. With your permission, we would like to borrow some of your manpower. Your B-wing pilots are among the most talented and spaceworthy the Republic has ever known. They would help us a great deal in the upcoming battle."
The Hive Queen remained silent, her head turned to one of the Verpine pilots who had accompanied Han and Leia into the nest. Neither spoke; rather, they were using their antennae to communicate. Leia considered using the Force to translate what they were saying, but decided against it. This was a personal matter between them, and to intrude into their conversation would be disrespectful.
She and Han waited patiently until the two had stopped conversing, and the Hive Queen turned back to them.
"I wish I could help you in this matter, Madame Chief of State," she replied. "But as you fully know, the Verpines have their hands full at the moment with the Barabels. Even now, we are planning on invading their system, while their backs are turned to us. It will ensure us a great victory against the treacherous Barabels."
Leia and Han exchanged brief, concerned glances. Clearly, the Hive Queen had made her decision, and would be adamant about it. But she did not intend to give up. "I am well aware of your war with the Barabels," Leia said in a stern tone. "But if Black Sun succeeds in obliterating the New Republic, it will only be a matter of time before they hunt down every last world loyal to us--including Taragoth."
The Hive Queen was taken aback by her caustic attitude and voice. She straightened up, more than a little muffed. "They wouldn't dare," she said.
"But they will," Leia shot back. No anger, just cold, brutal truth. "Your Majesty, you know that I care about you. I have been your friend for over twenty years, and I sympathize with your plight. I also, however, care for the Barabels. And to see you two tear each other apart like dogs over a war as petty as this saddens me. Wouldn't it benefit both sides so much more if you worked together, rather than as enemies?"
The Hive Queen shook her enormous head. "You don't understand," she said. "The Barabels have done so many terrible things to my people in the past. Many of our kind has died. So much blood has been spilled on our side. Do you have any idea, Madame President, how it feels to know that people close to you have been eaten by your enemy? It's terrible."
"But the Barabels have suffered greatly as well," Leia pointed out. "If I remember, you attacked the Barabel colony of Darink two months ago. Killed every last man, woman, and child, and put their bodies on display."
The Hive Queen looked away, as if ashamed to be reminded of her own doing. "That was different," she said. "We were merely avenging the deaths of our friends and family."
"But what good does revenge do?" Han demanded. "All it does it get more people hurt." Leia looked over at her husband and nodded. It reminded her of how Vader and Tarkin forced her to look on as the Death Star destroyed Alderaan. And she could still remember the fiery anger she felt toward them, how much she wanted revenge..."All I am asking, Your Majesty, is to meet the Barabel leader on a neutal planet. No weapons, no battleships, no fighting...just talking." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "The Republic needs you both. I'm asking you to--no, I'm begging you to help."
"Think of how many lives you'll save in the process," Han added. The Hive Queen hissed softly, the Verpine equivalent of a sigh, as if their words had struck a chord with her. After all the years of fighting, of loss, of death, things were now starting to sink in with her. "But...I've done terrible things," the Hive Queen finally admitted. "How can they ever forgive me? It will not work."
"At least give it a try," Leia pleaded. "It's never too late to apologize. Join us...and help us save the galaxy from Black Sun once and for all."
The Hive Queen looked over at her fellow Verpines, who silently nodded in encouragement, having listened to the entire conversation with profound interest. Then her bulbous yellow eyes returned to Leia and Han, and she finally nodded. "Very well. Where shall we meet?"
The sight that befell Callista's smoke-gray eyes as Armenia opened the door that led into the cell room of the Fallen Moon aroused a deep sense of joy and relief, something she had not felt for a long time.
"Hope!" she shouted. Hope turned at the sound of her mother's voice. Almost immediately, she smiled at the sight of seeing her again, and she ran into Callista's waiting arms.
"Mommy!" she squealed, half-laughing, half-crying. "I'm so glad to see you!"
"Thank the Force you're alive," Callista said, her own face wet with already-fallen tears. "I thought I would never see you again."
"Aunt Callista!" Anakin called from the single cot in the room. He practically leaped to the floor and gathered her in a tight embrace. "I'm so scared."
"It's okay, honey," Callista soothed as she returned the hug. She held the two small children for such a long time, afraid that if she let go, they would be taken away from her again. "It's going to be okay now."
Armenia cleared her throat, causing all three pairs of eyes to fall upon her. "You have five minutes," she said, then turned to the strange-looking girl who was with Hope and Anakin. "Keep an eye on them while I'm gone."
The girl--who seemed about ten or eleven years old, and looked strikingly similar to Armenia--nodded as Armenia left the room, her black robe swirling around her like wings as the door slid shut behind her. No sooner was the Kerash warrior gone did Callista, Hope, and Anakin resume their happy reunion.
"My poor babies," she whispered, desperate to hold them as close as possible. "We're going to be okay now."
"But what about those bad people?" Hope asked in a frightened voice. "What are they going to do to us?"
"They won't do anything, Hope," Callista said sternly. "I promise. I would never let anything bad happen to you."
"You don't have much time," the other girl said from the closed doorway.
Callista stood up and looked down upon the child, a bit wary, but also careful not to jump to conclusions. "Are you with them?" she demanded.
The girl nervously nodded. "My name is Llia. Armenia is my cousin."
That took Callista by surprise. "You're so young," she observed, horrified that a girl so young and innocent could be involved with these terrible people.
Llia nodded. "I got your children into this mess, and I'm going to get them out."
"Do you know of a way to escape this place?" Callista asked.
"No, but there is another way," Hope replied. "Llia, tell her."
The little girl nodded, and turned to face Callista, her emerald eyes strikingly lovely. "Many times on our homeworld, a slave who is dissatisifed with his master has the right to fight for his freedom...by challening his master to a duel."
"A duel?" Callista had fought many times before in hand-to-hand combat, but she rarely enjoyed it. "What kind of duel?"
"One that would take place in the battle arena of the village the slave and master live in. It is the only form of entertainment on Anasazi, and it is always extremely bloody. No weapons are allowed. Only fists."
Callista could mentally picture it right now. Herself standing in the middle of an arena, with dozens of anxious spectators cheering her and her opponent on, demanding blood and death...
"The fights can last from five seconds to five hours," Llia continued. "If the slave wins, he is freed from the bonds of slavery. If the master wins, however, the slave is purified." Callista shuddered, recalling what Cray had told her about the Kerash purification ritual. "How does the slave ask for the challenge?"
"He presents it before the village council. They must approve of it first before anything else can happen." Callista nodded, her brain quickly processing everything the little girl had told her. She had fought before--from HRDs to Nightsisters--and had always emerged the victor. If she could do it before, she could do it again.
"Who do I have to fight?" she asked.
Llia took a deep breath, as if afraid to answer that question, and said, "You have to fight Armenia."
Callista looked over at Hope and Anakin, who awaited her reply with anxious eyes. Armenia was more than a worthy opponent for her; she was not Force- sensitive, but she was more than capable of holding her own in battle, as demonstrated in their fight in the Underworld. And if she lost to Armenia...
"Fine," she found herself saying, her eyes trailing back to Llia. "Then I'll do it."
Llia sadly nodded, perhaps not surprised by Callista's answer. Hope tugged on Callista's jumpsuit leg. "Mommy, are you sure you want to do this?"
Callista dropped to her knees so that she was staring Hope straight in the eye. "If it means ensuring your safety and Anakin's, Hope, then I'd be willing to go to the dark side and back just to do that." She stroked her daughter's hair--so soft and beautiful--and kissed her on the forehead. She could sense Hope's fear, fear for her mother's survival.
"What if you die, Mommy?" Hope said.
"I'm not going to die, Hope," Callista answered honestly. "I promise."
At that moment, Armenia burst into the room, followed by two other warriors carrying stun-cuffs. "Your five minutes are up," the white-skinned woman snapped, and nodded toward the two children.
Hope and Anakin both whimpered as the two warriors separated them from Callista and bound their hands behind their backs. "Don't hurt them!" Callista demanded, her voice sharp and acrid. If they so much as hurt them, so help the Force--
"You are in no position to demand that," Armenia said, moving forth so that her face was mere centimeters from Callista's. "Perhaps seeing your daughter die right before your eyes will change your attitude." Her voice dropped to an abrupt whisper. "Or didn't you learn anything when Xizor gutted your baby open?"
Callista was so tempted to beat Armenia's face in when she said that, she could almost taste it in her mouth. But she looked over at Hope and Anakin, who seemed so lost and confused and scared. She had already lost one child to these people. No more. Callista finally looked away and silently nodded. "As you wish," she said. Armenia smiled in satisfaction. "Good dog. Now, let us be off. We must present the three of you before the village council of Semaj."
Luke laid awake in his cot, covered in a thin layer of sweat, almost completely immersed in darkness. It took him a few minutes to realize that he had been holding his breath. Trying to snap out of his reverie, Luke took several fresh gulps of cold air. With one hand reaching out, he hit the switch that ignited the lights in his room, eliminating the blackness.
A dream, he kept telling himself, not even aware that he was shivering, and it was not because of the cold. It was only a dream. But what if it was more than that? Obi-Wan and Yoda had once told him that warnings and omens sometimes came in the form of dreams. It had happened when Obi-Wan had visited Luke for the last time, shortly before the rise of Thrawn, telling him that he could never see him again. It had happened when Exar Kun had managed to invade his dreams and masquerade as his father. But why were Callista and Xizor in his dream?
He's gone... Callista's haunting words echoed in Luke's mind, deep with regret and sorrow. What had she meant by that? Who was gone? And then he remembered Xizor... Luke remembered what Leia had told him when she had encountered Xizor all those years ago, how he had seduced her with his pheromones, made her believe she was in love with him. If his dream was any indication, Callista may be with Xizor right now. And if that was true...
"No!" Luke shouted, barely aware that he had just spoken out loud. No one was around to listen anyway. "No, she would never do that. She would never even think of..." Whether it was true or not, Luke knew that they needed to desperately find Boba Fett, more than ever now. He was the only one who could lead them to Xizor. And if they couldn't find him...then it might be too late for all of them.
As Luke climbed out of his bed, the door slid open, revealing Tionne. "Master Skywalker," she said, "are you all right?"
Luke nodded. The silver-haired Jedi historian must have heard him yell. "I'm fine," he lied. "I just...had a bad dream, that's all."
Tionne pursed her lips. He was not telling her the complete truth, and they both knew it. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Luke shook his head, releasing small droplets of perspiration into the air. "No...not right now, at least."
Tionne nodded, and dropped the subject. Out of all of Luke's original students, Tionne was the one he trusted the most. They both shared a deep, mutual respect and friendship with each other, a bond that could never be broken. Luke felt a little guilty that he wasn't being completely open to her, but knew that she respected his decision, and would not press further about it.
"We've landed on the Jrinjan Plateau," she said. "Just two miles away from the Imperial outpost."
Luke nodded as he dressed into his black jumpsuit. "Any sign of Imperials yet?" he asked.
Tionne shook her head. "None, so far. They must be slacking off."
Luke had to smile at that. "That'll work to our advantage," he said as he buckled his lightsaber to his belt. "Hopefully, Boba Fett will be among them."
"I hope so, too," she agreed. Moments later, the two left the room and headed outside the Millennium Falcon, where everyone else had gathered. The Jrinjan Plateau was the tallest hill on Garkonis. Green-grassed blessed the ground rather than the tall, tangled trees that populated the jungles of the planet. It overlooked the entire countryside--including the Imperial base.
"There it is," Luke pointed out. "If we're hoping for a lead to Xizor, then this has to be it." He shuddered at the mention of the Falleen's name, remembering his dream...
"So, what's the plan?" Kyp asked. "Kyp, you and Tionne will remain here," Luke instructed. "In case any Imperials come here, and there is a good chance that will happen. Everyone else will accompany me to the outpost. I'll cloak everyone with the Force so that the Imperials can't detect us. And if everything goes according to plan...we might just find what we're looking for."
The Jedi nodded amongst themselves, agreeing with their Master's plan. Leanna Kai, armed practically to the teeth, seemed willing and ready to fight. Luke nodded, as he switched on his lightsaber. "Then let's go."
From one of the gnarltrees below the Jrinjan Plateau, Boba Fett waited, staring through his macrobinoculars, as the Jedi ensemble departed from the Millennium Falcon and headed down the hill, more than likely heading for the old Imperial base. The bounty hunter watched with cold, steely eyes as he focused on Skywalker, who lead the group with his greenish-white lightsaber.
The fool really must have believed that the base was still being used.
The Imperials had abandoned the base long, long ago, since the destruction of the first Death Star, at least. With Skywalker distracted, it gave Fett the perfect opportunity to destroy the Falcon. Readjusting his binoculars, Fett focused on the two Jedi guarding the YT- 1300. They would not offer much resistance for the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy, he had no doubt of that. He had been swallowed by the Sarlacc, and lived to tell about it.
He was Boba Fett, and he was capable of anything.
The first thing Callista noticed as she, Armenia, Hope, Anakin, and half a dozen Kerash warriors left the Fallen Moon was the stench. It smelt of death and decay, and it almost made her gag on her own saliva. And as they entered the village of Semaj, she quickly understood why. Surrounding the entire village was a vast wall--possible constructed to keep intruders out--built completely out of human bones. There must have been over hundreds of them, many with small pieces of flesh attached to them. Swarms of flies covered the skeletons, picking off whatever was left. The smell emanating from the wall was so unbearable that Callista was lucky she didn't pass out. She looked down to see how her daugher and nephew were doing. Hope and Anakin was transfixed on the horrendous construction, their faces as pale as a ghost. She gripped their hands, quietly encouraging them--We won't be here much longer, kids, if everything goes well--and they continued on.
The inhabitants of Semaj had to be among the filthiest, most grotesque people Callista had ever seen. The people she saw--most of them toiling the crops on the outskirts of the village--were covered head to toe with filth. Apparently, no one on Anasazi ever bathed, she thought with disgust.
"Um...your people seem to...have very poor hygiene," Callista said to Armenia. The white-skinned woman nodded, perhaps agreeing with her, and not at all offended by her remark. "My people do not believe in using water to cleanse themselves," she explained. "We believe that water is a sign of washing away the evil within us. And we must keep that evil in order to serve Arak. So...we bathe in the blood of our prisoners."
This time, Callista did gag. "Blood?" she gasped.
Armenia nodded again. "Blood is the sign of death and power. If we bathe in it, the evil inside us grows stronger." She looked over at Callista and gave her a sly smile. "Perhaps you would like to try it."
Callista averted her eyes, disgusted. The idea of having someone's blood poured all over her body made her ill. She would rather dive into a swarm of piranha-beetles than do that. "No thanks," was all she said.
We must hurry," Armenia pressed. "The council is waiting for us." The group headed for the tallest building in Semaj, a tall, conical tower made of mud and brick. To Callista, it almost seemed like it had been carved in the shape of an alien head--and maybe it was. Already, a mob of curious onlookers were trailing after them, whispering amongst themselves, wondering who the three strangers in their village were.
One of them--a very old woman with no teeth and dry, wrinkled skin that felt like the flesh of a corpse--grabbed Callista by the left arm and said something in a language she didn't understand.
"Fyorga! Fyorga! Ahrua joaueja lurial binama!" the woman shouted, over and over again.
Callista tried to squrim her arm from the woman's grip, but she was surprisingly strong for someone her age. "I'm sorry," she said, careful not to panic. "But I don't understand what you're saying."
Armenia slapped the old woman's hand away, saying something in her native tongue. The hag backed away, her eyes wide with fright. She kept staring at Callista, even as they entered the council building. "What was that all about?" Callista asked.
Armenia shrugged. "Don't worry about it," she replied, shoving Callista forward so hard that she almost fell. The inside of the building more or less resembled the rest of the village: cold, unappealing, and dead. The skulls of long-dead beings hung from the walls and ceilings--more prisoners of war, Callista assumed. As she took in the sight, she saw at least seven people, draped in black, seated in a semi-circle table in the center of the room. They must be the village council, Callista thought. She couldn't make out their faces, and thus couldn't tell whether they were male or female. Armenia stepped forth and addressed the council, making her presence known. Her underlings surrounded Callista and the two children, making sure that they wouldn't escape. "I have returned, bearing what the Goddess Arak seeks. The two beings that share the special bond that will bring her into our world."
She gestured with one hand, indicating Hope and Anakin, who shrank back in fear. One of the council members nodded in approval and spoke in a deep, masculine voice. A male, obviously, and the leader of the council. "Excellent work, Armenia. The council is pleased with your success, and you will be rewarded."
His head moved past Armenia's shoulder, and focused squarely on Callista. "And who is this woman you have brought with you? Surely, she is not of the Sacred Trinity." Callista flinched under the stare of the council member. It unnerved her that he could see her face, but she couldn't see his, and she was tempted to go over there and knock the hood off his head. Armenia shook her head and looked over at her. "The mother of the little girl," she explained. "Apparently, she decided to follow us in an attempt to save the two children. As you can see, her attempt was futile."
"We have no use for her," the council member said, then pointed at the two children. "But these two...they are very special, indeed. I can feel their power. It is exactly what we seek."
"At long last," another said, "the Goddess shall be released from Raximidaj, and reign over all."
"The Third Vessel is almost ready," added a third. "We must bring the Bond to the temple and prepare them for the Coming."
"By drawing their blood," the leader said.
At the sound of those words, Callista stepped forth and yelled at the top of her voice, so that all in the room would hear, "I challenge Armenia to a fight to the death!" The room burst into an uproar after she spoke.
Dozens of voices surrounded her, mixing in together so that it was incoherent. She saw Armenia stare back at her, a shocked expression on her face. Apparently, she had not been expecting that. No one had. After the room quieted down, Armenia took a step toward Callista.
"How did you know about the right of challenge?" she demanded.
Callista shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Armenia. As a prisoner, I have that right." She then met the eyes of the council. "Your law states that any slave has the right to fight his or her master in exchange for freedom. Is that true?"
The council leader fidgeted in his seat before replying, "Yes, Skywalker, indeed you are correct."
Armenia turned back, even more shocked, if that were possible. "How can you say that?" she snapped. "She's not my slave, and I'm not her master! Therefore, the challenge is folly!"
"Not true," Callista pointed out. She had prepared for any argument Armenia might spit out. "My children and I were brought her against our will. You held us captive on the Fallen Moon during the entire trip to Anasazi. So, technically, we are slaves, and therefore have the right to challenge you." She allowed a smile to cross her face as she said, "Or are you afraid, Armenia?"
That apparently struck a nerve, for Armenia answered with a inhuman glare. "I swear by the will of Arak that I will defeat you without even breaking a sweat."
Taking that as a yes, Callista focused on the council members. "With your permission," she said, "I request that the duel take place within the next hour."The council members took five minutes to discuss it amongst themselves, their voices barely above a whisper. Callista could hardly make out anything they were saying, but there was no reason to. The final verdict was pretty much unanimous.
"Your request is approved," the leader said. "The duel will take place in the village arena within an hour. If you win, you and the children are free to go. If Armenia wins, you will remain on Anasazi...and be purified."
Callista nodded, and the meeting was adjourned. As she bent down to reassure the children, she could still hear Armenia ranting. "But--this is ludicrous! Even if she wins, you cannot allow her to take the children with her! They are the Bond, and we cannot perform the ritual without them!"
"Arak once said that the Kerash must respect all of their laws, young warrior...even the law of challenge."
"Mommy," Hope said, as she hugged Callista as strongly as she could. "I don't want you to fight."
"I know, sweetie," Callista whispered in her ear. Her child felt so delicate and vulnerable in her arms. It tore her apart to see her like this. "But this is the only way for us to survive this. If I win this fight, we can all go home. And see Daddy again."
Callista felt a deep pang as she mentioned Luke, and she thought immediately of Xizor... "Promise me you'll be careful," Hope said, her voice choked with tears.
Callista nodded, careful not to cry. She had to remain strong in front of them. "I promise with all my heart, baby." She reached out and included Anakin in the embrace. "Anakin, honey, if anything happens to me, I want you to take care of your cousin. Do you promise?"
"Cross my heart, hope to die," Anakin said bravely. "Kick her butt, Aunt Callista." Callista chuckled at her nephew's weak joke. A good laugh was what she desperately needed at a time like this.
As the council disassembled, Callista, Hope, and Anakin were led out of the building and back outside, where the mob of onlookers awaited them. "Take them to the prison hut," Armenia demanded. "And bind them until the battle." She looked over at Callista and snatched her violently by the arm. "I think you should know, Callista," she snarled in her ear, "that I happen to be the best fighter at the Kerash's disposal. No one has ever managed to beat me before."
Callista nodded, accepting what she said, and met her opponent dead straight in the eyes. "Until now," she said. Armenia sneered. "Looks like we'll find out in another hour." With that, the three prisoners were led away.
Xizor remained alone on the Fallen Moon, contemplating everything that had transpired since he had hired Boba Fett to kidnap the daughter of Luke and Callista Skywalker. He was in his personal quarters (provided by Armenia; it had belonged to a warrior named Voreo, who had died recently on Coruscant), sitting quietly at the crystal-glass table, his comm-link in one clawed hand. As far as he could tell, he was the only one remaining on the ship. Everyone else had either accompanied the prisoners to Semaj, or headed for other parts in the jungle. Where they went off to, Xizor didn't know, and he didn't particularly care, either. All that mattered to him was gaining complete control over Coruscant--and Callista. So far, he had accomplished both tasks quite successfully. Now it was time for the final step. His decison made, Xizor activated the comm and contacted Guri on Coruscant.
The HRD picked up his transmission within seconds, her voice coming from the tiny speaker. "Yes, my Lord?"
"It's time, Guri. Set them off."
"As you wish, my Lord." Xizor flicked the comm off and set it down on the table, patiently tapping his claws together.
He slowly began counting down. "Five, four, three, two..."
On the main deck of the Mon Calamari cruiser Dantooine, Wedge Antilles surveyed the massive cluster of ships gathered on the outskirts of the system. He had fought in so many space battles before: both Death Star attacks, the battle of Gall, the attacks on Imperial warlords like Zsinj and Ysanne Isard. But never before had he seen an enormous cluster of ships on a scale like this before. There must have been over a thousand transports, and he wasn't even counting the numerous Mon Calamari battleships, Corellian corvettes and gunships, Nebulon-B Escort Frigates...
Hopefully, the number would increase even further, if the Hapans arrived in time, and the Chief of State succeeded in her mission.
"Sir?" one of the uniformed officers called from his post. "I've just received word that the final transport has departed Coruscant. The entire planet has been evacuated. We must have over trillions of people boarded in these ships." His voice took a very concerned tone as he added, "I hope the Chief of State was right in doing this."
"Trust her," Wedge assured him. "The President knows what she is doing."
"Now that all the civilians are safe, should we send all our battle cruisers to attack Black Sun?" the officer asked.
Wedge shook his head, his eyes focused on Coruscant, which seemed so far away it almost looked like a distant star. "Not yet, Ensign. For one thing, we don't even know where to find Xizor. And the Chief of State has specifically stated not to do anything until she has returned from the Verpine System. And with the Hapan fleet arriving in three standard hours, we should--"
An huge explosion flashed before the viewscreen, throwing Wedge and everyone else on the bridge onto the floor. His head struck agains the hard metal, sending a jolt of pain through his spine. What had just--
More explosions followed, like a chain reaction, lighting the entire bridge in a wash of white and yellow. Wedge squeezed his eyes shut for the longest time, worried that he might have gone blind, and that the ship would enveloped in the flames. After several more prodigious bursts, the fire slowly dissipated into space. The crew members uneasily got up and inspected each other for any injuries. Wedge was helped up by two of his fellow officers, barely able to register what had happened. And the moment his eyes saw the viewscreen, he knew.
Debris from thousands of destroyed ships littered the space around them, like a metallic asteroid field. Several of the surviving ships were mercilessly hammered by the debris, the Dantooine included. The floor beneath them buckled under the stress, but Wedge was still too dazed to order and evasive. Detonators. Xizor had implanted the Republic ships with detonators. And as a result, over half of their ships floated in ruin across the cold vastness of space.
An hour passed by so fast that it felt almost like mere seconds for Callista. But sure enough, no sooner was the hour over did a pair of Kerash warriors enter the small prison hut she and the children had been placed in to bring them to the arena. Throughout the entire hour, no one had spoken. Hope and Anakin, completely exhausted after everything they had been through, had fallen asleep in Callista's lap. She had been careful not to awaken them--for they deserved a little rest, the poor things--and stroked their hair as they slept, singing a tune that her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. Now, Hope and Anakin were wide awake, and taken to the battle arena in stun- cuffs, a few paces ahead of Callista.
Hope turned to see her mother, fear wide in her eyes. Callista smiled and nodded. "Be strong, my Hope," she said. "We'll get through this."
The battle arena was located just outside the village of Semaj. It was by far the largest construction Callista had seen on this planet so far, shaped like an ancient Mandalorian colosseum. She squinted her eyes--for the glare in the daylight was staggering--and saw over hundreds of people already gathered there. Apparently, fights like these were a popular entertainment among the denizens of Anasazi, she thought.
At this point, the group separated. Hope and Anakin were led into one of the many archways that led into the colosseum, while Callista was taken into a small door that led elsewhere--probably where the fighters were taken before the battle. She looked over at Hope, and they both shared a silent, final goodbye before they were led away in different directions. The room Callista had been brought into was dark and musty. It seemed more like a corridor than anything else, with another doorway at the end, leading out into the main arena.
Callista could hear the din outside above her, people milling about, cheering, screaming, anticipating the blood that would be spilled. Callista felt a sick sensation in her gut as she realized what was about to happen. For the first time since she had declared the challenge in front of the village council, she was nervous. What if she lost?
"The rules are simple," one of the Kerash warriors said to her left. "No weapons are used in this battle. In your case, no Force powers, or you will automatically forfeit the challenge. The fight can last for as long as you like, as long as one of you ends up on the ground for more than ten seconds."
The man leaned forth so that only Callista could hear what he said next. "In all honestly, my dear, I pray that the end for you is quick."
The second warrior pointed down toward the doorway farther up ahead. "Once we're gone, start walking toward that door. Once the gates are closed and locked, that door will automatically open by itself, and you step out into the arena. Understand?"
Callista barely nodded, horrified by what these people were saying. She couldn't even use the Force in her defense? The Force was what helped her win her battles in the past. Without it, she was no match for Armenia.
"Good luck," the first one said, as they turned and closed the door shut behind her. Callista was left alone in the dark tunnel, the first beads of sweat dripping down her forehead. The crowd outside was growing louder and more impatient. They wanted to see a fight, and they wanted it now. Briefly, she wondered where Armenia was at this moment, and if she was feeling nervous about this as well. I can't do this, she started thinking. There's no way I can win this without the Force. Armenia will win for sure...
No! Keep thinking of Hope. And Anakin. I know I can win this. Win this for them, so that we can finally go home again...
Callista kept saying this over and over again, and when she finally regained some of her confidence, she took a deep breath. "It's now or never," she said, as she turned to face the far door.
She began to walk, slowly at first, then increasingly faster. Fueled by stamina and adrenaline, she began running, running toward the door. She could still hear the crowd outside, cheering as the battle was ready to begin. It sounded as if they were cheering her on, to reach the door. Think of Hope...Think of Hope...
Just as she reached the doorway, it slowly began opening up, as if it had a life of its own. Sunlight poured through the open portal, bathing Callista in white-yellow luminosity. The cheers--muffled by the walls that had surrounded her--were now amplified a hundred-fold. The inside of the arena was mostly dirt, with a circle of tall poles standing erect and tall in the center, torches mounted on top of each of them, covering an area as large as the bridge of a Mon Calamari starship.
A crescent moon had been drawn on the ground inside the poles, and Callista guessed that was where the fighting would take place. As soon as she stepped outside, the spectators focused on her. The cheers were suddenly replaced by boos and taunting, as the people of Semaj got a chance to meet the foreigner who had arrived at their village. Some even threw rotten food in Callista's direction, and she cried out as a half- eaten apple smacked against the side of her head. Don't give in, her mind said, the moment Callista felt a tiny build-up of anger. Just ignore them...
Callista breathed in, and did just that. Holding her chin up high, clinging to whatever dignity she had left, she strode toward the battle area, the crowd shouting after her. Master, she silently prayed to Djinn. Let your teaching come to my aid. I've never needed it more. More food was thrown at her, and even a few stones. One sharp one struck Callista's shoulder, and cut open a shallow wound. It quickly became warm with blood, but she refused to cry out in pain. Pain was what these barbarians wanted. And she wasn't prepared to give them the satisfaction.
As she walked, she saw Hope and Anakin, watching from the gate that circled the colosseum, two Kerash standing over them. Hope gave her mother a sad smile, trying to hide her fear. Her cheeks were stained from already-shed tears, and Callista's heart went out to her. Hope was trying so hard not to be afraid, so that her mother would not have to worry about her while she battled. She truly was a brave soul. She gave her daughter a nod--My sweet, brave Hope--and continued on.
She passed between two of the poles and stood atop the enormous moon drawing, amidst the din, as thousands of eyes watched her, cursing at her in their native language. She could even see the village council, all gathered at the highest seats in the colosseum. All that was left now was her opponent. Who came out seconds later, amidst a succession of cheers from the crowd, absent of her black robe, and instead clothed in a tight black jumpsuit. The long sleeves of her shirt and pants were pressed tightly against her arms and legs, showing off her impressive musculature. She wore sharp-toed boots that went up to her knees, and black gloves on her hands. Her raven hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, giving Armenia an exotic, but deadly, appearance.
Callista knew she looked ragged in comparison, with her torn jumpsuit, disheveled hair, and mud-caked boots, but the end result was all that mattered.
As long as she had confidence in her skills, she knew she would succeed. She waited as Armenia stepped into the circle, tossing her hair aside. Her emerald eyes focused mercilessly on her opponent, who glared back with equal force. As the cheers slowly died down, the village council leader stood from his seat and addressed everyone gathered at the colosseum.
"You know the rules!" he shouted, his voice so loud and deep that it carried across the entire area. "The warrior that is left standing wins! No weapons, no mind powers. The fight can last for as long as you both choose."
He held his left hand up, an quickly down, like the chopping of a blade. "BEGIN!!!!" The crowd began cheering again, loud and deafening like the waves of a hurricane on Chad. Armenia and Callista faced off, both going into their respective fighting positions, hands held up into fists.
The battle was begun.