Approximately one year before the Eclipse Massacre
Tiran whistled quietly as he worked on the X-wing. Other than the sound of his
quiet tinkering, breathing and whistle, the docking bay was quiet and he
revelled in it. Since the war had begun, these moments had become far too rare.
Brushing at some of the lukewarm grease he felt on his cheek, he checked the
fuel levels in the fighter again. Someday, he thought lazily, he would have to
learn to fly an X-wing. Perhaps, after the war, Molair would…
"Lee-droy? Hey, Lee-droy!" The grim, rough voice broke into Tiran's thoughts
and the mechanic stepped out of the fighter's shadow, waving once, over his
head, to catch Qimrak's attention. "Yeah, boss?"
The grizzled man walked over to the younger man and scratched his neck
uncomfortably. "You're from Lin-Ta, right?"
Tiran's forehead creased in confusion. "Yeah; born and raised there; why?"
The overseer ran a hand through his thinning grey hair and grimaced. He liked
Tiran – the kid was a talented mechanic and had his head screwed on right and
Qimrak hated to be the bearer of bad news. His assistant – freshly promoted and
overeager – had offered to tell Lee-droy but Qimrak had declined. He was in
charge around here; it was his responsibility to watch out for his
charges.
Ah, but he wished he had – for just this once – overlooked his
responsibility!
Qimrak gestured to his office reluctantly. "There's something on the Holonet
you should see…"
End of flashback
~*~*~
Things were not going well in the Senate; it seemed no one had known that any
of the Jedi – let alone Jaina – were alive, making an already bad situation
worse. Kriffing Sith, Solo; if you want me to help you, you have to tell me
these things!
Garik had not been able to beat Oosan to the Senate. It was not for lack of
trying on Garik's part, but, rather, a matter of transportation. Oosan's
private ship had been geared to fly to Bothawui as soon as necessary while
Garik had to wait for his ship to be refuelled (the mechanics "hadn't the time"
to do so while he was gone) and power up. Garik hadn't thought Oosan to be
shrewd (or intelligent, he thought derisively) enough to think of
hindering him…
"…This is just another sign of the Jedi's rebellion against the Free Alliance!"
one politician shouted into his mike (as if we couldn't all hear him,
Garik thought, his jaw tightening). "The Jedi, as we have seen consistently
throughout the years must be watched or they will rise up against us and – "
"Jedi Knight Solo merely stated she would not work with politicians," Garik
chastised from his floating dais in the centre of the theatre that was serving
as the temporary Senate hall. "She has made a point of guaranteeing her
constant protection of the Free Alliance and – "
"The Jedi have always said that to cover their incompetence," a brunette, human
senator Garik didn't recognize ("Narath Kinsap," a small, electronic voice
offered in Garik's earpiece.) interrupted coldly. "The Jedi swore to
protect the Old Republic, which, in the end, fell to the ambitions of two Jedi.
The Jedi then promised to protect the New Republic, but they refused to put an
end to the invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong. How much bloodshed could have been
avoided if the Jedi had given the Yuuzhan Vong the only thing they demanded in
return for peace? Is that how protectors act? If so, perhaps the only way they
ever served their government was by dying!" The cheers that followed the
brunette's words sickened Garik but he continued.
"It was the Sith that overthrew the Old Republic," he corrected with all the
smoothness of the late Lando Calrissian, to all the galaxy appearing
unflappably amused by the other's rant, "and their first act of doing so was to
destroy the Jedi.
"It is largely in part to the Jedi that the New Republic was created and as
safe as it was for as long as it was. They made sacrifice after sacrifice – "
"But when it came to the greatest of sacrifices – the sacrifice that would
truly bring peace – they refused!" a representative from Kuat added quietly but
firmly.
"If they had given themselves up, it would have been in vain," Garik replied
quickly. "The 'Vong – "
"Yuuzhan Vong," a voice chided.
As if I want to give them any respect! "The 'Vong," Garik
repeated, purposely ignoring the voice, "have not kept a single promise they
have made to us – don't tell me you have forgotten Ithor so quickly."
"Have you forgotten Lin-Ta?" the brunette reciprocated. "Where were the Jedi then?"
Immediately the senator's fervour made more sense and only years of being
around politicians allowed Garik to keep a blank expression. "There was no
warning for Lin-Ta Senator Lee-droy," he reminded the Senate wearily. "There
was nothing anyone could have done."
"Lin-Ta created the most advanced communication vessels in the galaxy; no doubt
they sent the message to the incompetent Jedi rather than the Senate."
Having no "appropriate" answer (a.k.a. an answer that wouldn't get him
thrown out of the Senate), Garik attempted to bring the debate back to
Jaina's vow and (horrifyingly enough) what could actually be considered
safer territory. "Jaina Solo is only one person," he stated firmly, making eye
contact with several key politicians. "She is a young Jedi Knight the daughter
and niece of Rebellion heroes. Luke Skywalker and Leia and Han Solo put their
blood, sweat, and tears into protecting the galaxy; Jedi Knight Solo was raised
to do the same. Why should she wish to commit treason? How would she?"
Dark murmurs swept throughout the theatre. Garik caught only fragments –
"apprentices," " 'Vong," and repetitive references to "Vader's granddaughter".
He bit back a curse. What have I gotten myself into? He sighed and took
a seat. May as well get comfortable; this is going to take a while…
~*~*~
It took trying to comb her hair with the bar of soap while in the
shower for Jaina to realize her mind was on planet
Weirdness-Felt-Through-The-Force and not planet Unmuddle-And-Relax. Sighing,
she rinsed her hair a last time and turned off the hot stream of water. "What's
the point of having unlimited shower time if you're too frazzled to care?" she
grumbled, stepping out of the shower, droplets of water sliding down her skin
onto the cool dura-tile floor. Wrapping her bathrobe around her still wet body
and a towel around her dripping hair, she sent a gentle probe through the
Force, searching for the disturbance she had felt before. It was probably the
first "Jedi-thing" she had done in months. Perhaps the Force had somehow known
that she was unable to think of touching the true loneliness of her existence –
which the current emptiness of the Force reminded her of constantly – without
breaking. Now, however, the Force was forsaking any sympathy it had previously
shown to urgency, demanding her attention.
Meditate.
The sudden command that seemed to come from the Force itself startled a gasp
out of her and she had to grab the plexi-counter to steady herself. When a
small measure of balance returned to her, she stumbled to her room. Locking the
door behind her, she fell in a heap on the ground, her strength suddenly spent.
No, she thought, though if it was to the Force and/or whoever was
speaking to her through an unknown bond, she did not know.
Yes; meditate – now!
Pressure began to build at the base of her spine and continued upwards, as if
it were trying to squeeze the resistance out of her. It was only when her skull
began to numb that she gave up. Alright, alright; I'll meditate.
Immediately her strength returned and the pain retreated, the only proof of its
existence a hoarse rattling that remained in her throat.
Folding her legs underneath her, she took a shaky breath and sank into the
Force…
* * *
"Yes," he muttered gleefully, clapping his hands in excitement. "Yes,
Jaina…find me." He bounced lightly in his chair, a crazed glint in his
black eyes…
* * *
Tiran closed his eyes in relief as he felt the storm pass, as he felt the rage
slip away from him like water. Never before had it been so bad – so strong.
Hazily, he wondered what had been different this time from all the other times.
Drawing his trembling fingers through his hair, he forced himself to breathe in
and out, calming him…
* * *
She frowned in her meditation, though she was not aware of it. Her mind –
submerged in the Force as it was – was at the same time aware and unaware of
any physical aspects of the galaxy. In the cold – but somehow soothing –
blackness of the Force, two lights began to pulse. One was beautiful, serene
and gentle while the other was chaotic and confused. Something tugged at
her mind, drawing her closer to the first light. She allowed herself to be
pulled for a moment, then stopped as the coldness, the hardness of the
light hit her abruptly.
As if feeling her hesitancy, the light pulled more insistently. Come…
The voice was like water, water that was causing her to rust and preventing more
and more of her movement. Beginning to feel desperation rise up within her, she
struggled against the light. No longer was there any vague resemblance of
beauty to the light's credit; it was hard, bright, and coarse. Crying out, she
tried to escape the light's tentacles, even as she was pulled deeper into its
icy depths…
Come to me…
* * *
Tiran pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, rocking
slightly, head buried in his kneecaps. His head was pounding. He wished it
would stop – it was difficult to think when a bantha had made your head made
their new sugar-high party room.
It was amazing, he thought darkly, what kind of things could stay with you. He
could remember exactly who the holo-net anchor who had given the report on
Lin-Ta but he could not remember what she said. He must have run, though,
because his next memory was of being in an X-wing he barely knew how to fly,
headed toward his home. He could not remember having a plan of action; his only
thought had been to save his family and friends.
Perhaps it would not have been so terrible if he had not gone. As it was, the
images were glued to his mind, never to let go. He could still feel the feel of
warm blood when he had brushed his mother's hair out of her face. He could
still see the burnt bodies of his friends, strewn across the street, could
still smell the smell of scorched hair. Every time he closed his eyes he could
hear their dying screams. And Calair… He closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his
tears away. His little sister's body had been mangled until she was nearly
unrecognizable. Half her skin had been pulled away, and all her blood –
drained. Her blue eyes had been wide, terrified
There had been no warning. By the time anyone could have sent a message, half
the planet was destroyed. It was proclaimed an "unstoppable tragedy" but he
couldn't help but wonder…had it really been "unstoppable"? The Jedi were
kriffing celebrating while a planet was destroyed. Lin-Ta had always been a
planet that fully supported the Jedi, and Tiran was not the only one who
occasionally wished to be a Jedi, but what had it gotten them? They were
destroyed, every last one.
The Jedi couldn't have known; nobody knew.
He shook his head in savage denial. No, there must have been something
someone could have done! Calair, his sister, the one who always trusted him to
protect her was dead. It had to be someone's fault – but who's?
The Jedi.
His shoulders slumped. His whole life he had looked up to the Jedi, had wanted
to be a Jedi, but after Lin-Ta…
It has to be someone's fault!
He could not accept it as a senseless moment in history that could not have
been stopped. The Jedi could sense everything that was going on with their
mystical Force, could they not? So why hadn't they done anything? While they
were celebrating with their "Knighting" ceremony, an entire civilization was
wiped out. He had come from a large family – upward of seventy members that he
knew of – but, now, he was the only one left. What gave the 'Vong the right to
take the lives of others?
What gave the Jedi the right to ignore the 'Vong?
That had been the question that rang through his head when he had finally
collapsed on the front step of his – former – home. It had been then that his
revelation had come; it was then that he noticed what others had been noticing
for so long: the Jedi were ignoring the problem. The self-proclaimed "guardians
of peace" were ignoring the problem.
Perhaps it was then that the Darkness had begun to seep into him, when "the
iron had entered his soul."
His arm shot out, not to hit anything – there was nothing for him to hit
– but to let out some pent up energy.
Pent up energy was dangerous – lethal, even.
It was then that he heard the scream...
* * * *
~TJF