AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whew! Three chapters in, one more to go. Are you all still with me? Big thankyou goes out to gamorrean princess (yet again). You're a lifesaver, babe, and I wouldn't know what to do without you. More thanks go out to all my reviewers: Tinuvial, Yggi, ether-fanfic, Darkness1, Dark Lord Daishi, Blackheart Syaoran, and Killyouguy. Hope this chapter lives up to expectations.

PS the formatting issue with the last chapter is either fixed or soon-to-be-fixed. It ate my triple asterisks :(

CHAPTER THREE: DARK CHOICES, DARK BATTLES

"Hello there,

the angel from my nightmare

the shadow in the background of a morgue

the unsuspecting victim

of darkness in the valley…"

-Blink 182

Jaden didn't do sneaky real well. She knew that, had known it most of her life. It had never particularly bothered her before. But now, with Reborn crawling all over the place, Reborn and Stormtroopers and Force knew what else, she found herself wishing for just a fraction of the stealth that seemed to come so naturally to Kyle and Rosh.

Of course, that was what part of her mind was wishing. The rest of her mind was completely occupied with the fighting. Since Vjun, she had found herself utterly unable to sink into the half-trance in which she usually fought. The state where everything slowed down and fell perfectly into place. It had shattered, like a soap bubble. She knew she wasn't fighting as well anymore, she was slower, sloppier…

She shook her head angrily, pulling her mind back to the task at hand and neatly beheading a Cultist with a broad backhand swipe. He screamed most satisfactorily as her lightstaff bit into his neck…at least until the bright blade severed his throat entirely.

He fell to the ground, and she felt his presence join with the Force. She spun to meet her next opponent, blocking his first attempt at an attack and swiftly turning the parry into a lunging riposte.

Pathetic! They call these dark Jedi? She swatted aside a Reborn's poor attempt at a deflection and ran him through with somewhat unnecessary force. She heard someone give a triumphant yell and realized it was herself. A shot embedded itself in the wall above her head, and she whirled to meet the next threat.

A bunch of Stormtroopers. She had the crazy urge to laugh. Her saberstaff moved in her hands, almost on its own, deflecting each shot. She ran forward, deflecting fourth, fifth, and sixth shots into the dark eyeslits in those pristine white helmets. She jumped, soaring easily through the air on the wings of the Force. She hit the first Trooper heavily, both feet planted on his shoulders.

He went down like a stone, and when she shoved her lightstaff into his midriff and yanked it to the side, twitched and was down for good.

She made short work of his five companions and walked on. It was really almost amusing, how people judged her on her diminutive stature and gender, on her delicate face and blond hair. It made things altogetherly too easy, sometimes.

How long had she been fighting her way through this damn factory? She didn't know. It seemed like forever…it was a blur of anger and blood and desperation. It couldn't have been that long, she reasoned. Taspir simply wasn't that big.

Kyle was somewhere else, trying to work his way back to her. Jaden was grateful for that at least. She was sure he wouldn't have approved of her methods, nor of her replies to the Twi'lek's insults and jibes.

Alora was a pest, nothing more, she told herself. In time, the Twi'lek would fall as easily as her minions. Jaden hoped it was her hand on the weapon that ended it.

She was impatient. A thermal detonator took care of another gaggle of Stormtroopers and by the time she met another pair of Reborn, she was fed up with the endless fighting. Lightsabers may be flashy, but it's the other guy you want to watch out for, she reminded herself, leaping away from a lightning attack.

The 'saberless Reborn were the toughest. And this one was particularly tough. Quick and agile, with a good understanding of how to fight Jedi, he danced away from all her attacks, knocking her aside, throwing lightning at her.

Finally, she connected with a lucky kick, booting him solidly in the stomach. He reeled back, the wind knocked out of him. It was but a moment, but a moment was enough for Jaden. A savage thrust, and her orange blade slid between his ribs to ruin his heart.

Of course, that meant she'd been stationary for a moment as well. Pain shivered along her nerves, and she smelled the stench of burning meat. The lightsaber-wielder had slashed her across the back and side. Her tunic was smoldering and her side was on fire with pain. She staggered back, getting her own weapon up just in time to avoid being skewered.

Boiling fury seemed to have replaced her blood in her veins. She got her feet solidly under herself and charged him with a yell, swinging her lightstaff. She batted his weapon aside and brought the other end up. It bit deeply into his side, and it was his turn to stagger back.

She followed. With a low kick, she took him down at the knees. He fell, eyes wide and terrified over the dark halfmask. She spun the blade in her hands, reversing it deftly.

"Mercy!" he cried hoarsely.

She drove the blade into his forehead.

As she felt his spirit leave his body, she stepped back. Every breath set her side on fire, and every movement drove white-hot daggers of pain down her spine. Her tunic was ruined, a bloody mess of shredded and scorched material. She shrugged it off, twisting painfully, trying to get a look at what had been done to her back.

It was very hard to heal what you can't see, but Jaden managed it. Her camisole was spattered and soaked in blood, but more or less intact. But it left her shoulders and arms bare, and while she knew this was hardly the time to be thinking of delicate sensibilities, she didn't particularly want to go prancing around in front of the Reborn and dark Jedi wearing a torn undershirt.

The dead Reborn's overtunic was undamaged, though. It was the awkward work of a moment to get it off him. It was made of rough, cheap fabric. Jaden's lips curled in something that faintly resembled a smile. Looks like Tavion has the same trouble getting credits as the rest of us.

She pulled it on. It was too big, but it covered her well enough and it wasn't soaked in blood. She struggled with the fastenings and managed to get at least part of it done up before the next wave of Stormtroopers found her.

"You don't look much like a prisoner, Rosh."

Her voice was almost unrecognizable. Rosh spun around, expressions chasing themselves across his face. For a moment, stark terror. Then relief and recognition. Then consternation, swiftly followed by worry.

"Jaden!"

She took a step forward, the movement unmistakably threatening. "Was this your idea or did Tavion dream it up?" she snarled. It was a trap. How could it ever have been anything else? There he stood, hale and healthy, unbound, unfettered. Kyle had misjudged the situation, that was all it could be.

"No wait—you don't understand." He took a step back. "I—I was wrong. Please, take me back the Academy. I need help."

There was a snap-hiss as the saberstaff in her hand ignited. One bright orange blade slid out. She could see the reflection in his wide eyes.

"Stay back!" He raised a hand, and she felt him pull on the Force. Several crates flew through the air, settling between Jaden and Rosh, blocking her path to him.

She frowned and knocked them aside.

Rosh had slid into a defensive position, and now there was a lightsaber in his hand, too. "Jaden, please! You're frightening me." He spoke slowly and carefully, his voice low, as though to a wild animal.

"You're a liar and a traitor and you don't deserve to live," she said, voice leaden.

"You have to believe me, Jay," he pleaded with her. "We—we're friends, right?"

In a leap, she covered the distance between them, snatching him by the front of his tunic. Rage pounded in her temples. He dared—! "Don't. Call. Me. That." Her voice was low and deadly and alive with anger.

His eyes were very wide, but he didn't struggle. "Listen to yourself," he said desperately. "You're angry—"

"No kidding." She hit him, hard, with the fist that still held her lightstaff. It felt good. She let go of his tunic and hit him again, harder.

He staggered back. Damn it all, why wouldn't he fight her? The lightsaber was still in his hand, unlit. There was an angry red mark on the side of his face. Jaden knew from experience that it would be a very nasty bruise in a few hours.

He won't be alive in a few hours.

"Finish him, Jedi!" a voice crowed from above.

It took a moment or two for the words to penetrate Jaden's angry mind. She didn't even look to see who'd spoken. She knew.

"Stay out of this, table-dancer," she growled. She looked down at the lit weapon in her hand, then back up at Rosh.

"Jay, don't—"

In an instant, the orange blade was hovering dangerously close to his jaw. "Didn't you hear me?" she asked softly. Her black eyes were anything but soft. "Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that again."

He froze.

Kill him, the darkness whispered in her mind, sleepy and seductive and powerful. Kill him now. Do it for yourself, do something for yourself for once.

Her hand tightened around her saberstaff.

It will be so easy…

Watch his blood spill out onto the floor, watch his eyes fix in death, watch his face pale and know the fierce satisfaction only true power can bring…

Kill him.

She drew her hand back, bringing her breathing back under control, shifting her stance to the most advantageous for a quick killing strike. She closed her eyes. The orange blade hummed through the air.

Her eyes flew open again in shock as she heard the unmistakable staticky crackle of lightsaber on lightsaber.

Rosh had taken a step back. He'd ignited the weapon in his hand, and was now holding her off with it. The blade was green. She knew it.

"That's mine," she whispered, shocked. Then her eyes narrowed, and she broke the 'saberlock. He stumbled forward, surprised, but recovered swiftly, spinning to meet her again.

Her advance was slow, almost lazy. Rosh was no warrior. However much he might have improved under Tavion's tutelage, she could still beat him. She knew it like she knew her name—a fact, immutable and unchanging. Of course, that didn't mean he was helpless.

However hopeless Rosh might have been with more concrete weaponry, he had always been the stronger in the Force. The trick would be to keep him too distracted to use the Force against her, and finish the fight off swiftly before he realized what she was doing.

A sneer twisted her lips. He refused to strike at her, keeping himself completely on the defensive, expression stubborn. "Jaden—no! Let go of your anger—"

There! An opening!

Rosh's sloppy defense had left her a narrow opening. He realized it a second after she did and tried to redirect, but it was too late. Jaden drove her 'saber blade up to the hilt in his side. Half an inch of bright orange blade protruded from the other side of his torso. His eyes went wide and shock twisted his face.

"Don't you ever listen to me?" she muttered. "Talk or fight. Don't try to do both." She stepped back, letting him fall to the floor, looking down at him. "You yourself said how powerful the dark side was," she reminded him mockingly.

He looked up at her, eyes already dark with pain and impending death. "I was wrong," he whispered, looking up at her.

She shook her head scornfully. "No. You were weak." She turned away from her dying friend, once and forever.

Mocking applause resounded from above, where the Twi'lek perched, watching the proceedings with great interest and amusement. "Very well done. You are one of us, now. And a worthy addition—"

"No." Jaden's voice was sharp and cold. "I'm one of me."

Alora cocked her head to the side. "Oh?"

"You're pathetic and you disgust me," Jaden said, enunciating carefully as though speaking to a senile old grandparent. "Was there some part of that you didn't understand?"

The Twi'lek's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open.

"You're weak and useless. You're hardly even worth killing," Jaden taunted her. "Tavion must have been desperate to take you on as an apprentice. Those two hulking idiots I killed on Vjun were tough. You're nothing but a pushover."

With a scream of rage, the dark Jedi launched herself at Jaden, two lightsabers in her hands. She ignited them as she leapt, bright red and thirsty for the fallen Jedi's blood.

Jaden caught both weapons on the blades of her staff and kicked the Twi'lek in the stomach, driving her backwards a few steps. She followed up her advantage, locking her blade with Alora's, forcing the Twi'lek into a 'saberlock. Slowly, slowly, the orange blade forced the red back, until they were nearly touching the dark Jedi's skin.

Alora's eyes widened, then narrowed. A wave of the Force billowed out, knocking Jaden back several feet. But the human had been expecting something like that and kept her balance with little difficulty, charging back into the fight.

She hooked Alora's ankle with her foot and yanked, throwing her meager weight at the Twi'lek. With a yell, they went over. Jaden managed to stay on top, whipping her blade around to her opponent's throat. Red fingers were wrapped around her wrists, the knuckles pale and her teeth gritted with the effort of keeping the orange blade from her throat.

Jaden swore. Stalemate. They were more or less equal as far as strength went. Now for tricks. She braced herself mentally, drew her head back, and smashed her forehead into Alora's face. She felt pain blur her vision and something crack beneath her…

It bought her a moment. But a moment was enough.

She felt the Twi'lek's tarnished soul flee her body as she got to her feet, saw the body spasm and go limp. Satisfaction filled her.

Well done, the darkness murmured, sated for the moment.

Jaden paused.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

And then she was gone.

Kyle was out of breath. Something was terribly wrong. "Jaden!" he tried to yell, though it came out as a gasp. He stumbled over the threshold, looking around.

Someone answered weakly, but it wasn't Jaden. Kyle turned and felt his jaw sag. Rosh lay on the floor, one hand pressed to his side, white as paper. Surprisingly little blood showed on his skin and clothing, but Kyle's experienced eye noted the twin wounds in his sides. Cauterized.

"Rosh! What the hell—"

He broke off. There was another body. He'd never met Tavion's apprentice personally, but he recognized her when he saw her. She was sprawled in the boneless posture only cats and corpses can achieve. There was a gaping slash across her throat, her nose was very broken indeed, and her eyes stared sightlessly up at the dark ceiling.

"Kyle…I'm sorry. Jaden…has turned," Rosh said. Sweat beaded on his pale forehead, every word obviously costing him dearly. "You've…lost both your apprentices." His blue eyes were dark with pain and fear and sorrow. He knew he was dying, knew it with the resigned certainty of one who'd seen death wounds before.

Kyle knelt beside him. How old was Rosh? Eighteen? Nineteen? And dying. Sometimes, the universe just wasn't fair. "No. That's not true. You're a Jedi, Rosh. A true Jedi."

The boy's eyelids flickered, and a wan smile made its way onto his face. "Heh. Thanks. Means…a lot." He took in another breath, and Kyle could hear the blood filling his lungs. "Tried…I tried…" He coughed suddenly, a horrible gurgling, rattling noise. "I tried to…stop her…wasn't strong enough."

"I know," Kyle said softly. Damn it!

"Sorry," Rosh said again, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, and died.

And Kyle knew he'd spoken the truth when he'd said Rosh was a Jedi. Within moments, there was nothing left of Rosh Penin but his memory. His apprentice had become one with the Force, in the way that only a true Jedi can.

He got slowly to his feet, feeling immeasurably old. If only he'd stayed with her, if only he'd noticed the change sooner, if only he'd said something, if only he'd been able to get her to talk…if only if only if only.

And where was she now?

He knew.

It's time to end this.