Scarlet Shadows
© Kaz, 2003-2004

Chapter Nine – Alterare, Part Two

They occupied one of the tables at the farthest end of the function room, wanting to discuss their own matters rather than those that involved the upcoming elections and other large-scale issues. They were concerned about those, yes, most especially about the assassin trio Moirae that had recently surfaced from the bowels of Corellia, but it was one of those times when they didn't want to talk about such serious topics. It was the advanced 'victory party' of Han Solo's political faction, and they, being members of the said organization one way or another, were supposed to celebrate as well.

Kyp reached out for his glass and took in a considerable amount of wine, but as he put it back down on the table, his frown became evident to his other three companions. He didn't speak immediately, but when he did, they noted the disappointed tone in his voice. "So it's true. You really were at that nightclub last night."

"It's not what you think," the youngest of the four, Anakin, quickly interjected in protest.

"The reason you were there doesn't matter. The fact that you were there does." His eyes narrowed drastically as he regarded the brothers, who didn't seem to realize that what they did was very wrong. "I hope you're not forgetting that you two are highly-regarded personalities in this country, and that the Feu de Joie is teeming with individuals who will probably never get out of the streets, even if your father becomes President. It's just not right for you two to be seen at such a place. You definitely don't belong-"

"Kyp." Jacen sounded tired. And in reality he was, tired from all the lecturing and reprimanding he had been getting, not only from his father, but also from his stand-in big brother. He leaned back against his chair, eyes looking at the Senator wearily. "We know what we're doing. We're not kids anymore. When I agreed to accompany Anakin to the Feu de Joie, I was well aware of the consequences."

"So was I. And we were prepared for them."

The older Solo shot his brother a smile, thankful for the support. He and Anakin weren't exactly best of friends, but they were brothers, nonetheless, and that made a difference. He then turned back to Kyp, but as he did so, the grin had disappeared, and all was left was his disapproving expression. "And please. Stop the discriminating talk. I don't like it."

The Senator raised his arms up in surrender. "All right, all right. But I just wanted you to know that I didn't like what you did." He eyed Jacen critically, his frown reappearing. "And I don't like that bruise."

"It's my problem, not yours," Jacen snapped, irritated that his injury was taken as a big deal. He didn't even want to think how big a deal it would be if they would discover that he had acquired it out of defending a waitress from a bunch of street punks. "And don't worry, what Anakin and I did won't tarnish your sweet-smelling political record or ruin your chance of becoming Senator for yet another term. That's what you're so worked up about, isn't it?"

"Why you!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice on my brother!"

"This doesn't concern you, Anakin! I'm warning you, stay out-"

Jag could only sigh at the brewing word war. While he was used to it, it was getting annoying. "Do we have to go through this again? You are all acting like children." He took a sip from his glass of wine coolly, ignoring the glares that were directed towards him. He sometimes wondered how they managed to become government officials and political advisers, and one of those times was now.

Before anyone could say anything in response to his comment, his cellphone rang. Excusing himself, politely as always, he stood up and answered the call. He had only taken a few steps away from where his companions were, however, when he abruptly turned around with a grim expression on his austere, aristocratic features. He didn't even bother to listen to what else the caller had to say to him. He immediately ended the call and put away his communicating device.

"Moirae," he said in a voice full of loathing, almost a growl. "They did something to Wyn."

And that was all it took to send them off.

-x-

The grin on Soontir's face twisted even more. He couldn't see the assassins' reactions, as their faces were hidden underneath dark-colored masks, but he could sense their shock and fear, as well as their feeling of helplessness. How were they to battle something they had never encountered before? "Now, now, ladies. There is no need for you to be scared. She just wants to play."

"What have you done to her?!" Clotho half-shrieked. She was trembling, not only because she was furious, but also because she was frightened. She wanted to know what the answer to her question was, but at the same time, she didn't want to either. She was afraid not only of the monster that stood in front of them, ready to rip each of them into shreds, but also of the truth behind Wynessa's grotesque transformation.

His voice was as cold as steel. "I saved her life."

They stared at him incredulously, unable to believe what they had just heard him say. Save her life? How could becoming a fiend save one's life? From the looks of it, the young woman they once knew as Wynessa certainly didn't look well. The ugly scars on her forehead alone were enough to let the trio know that.

"You heard me right. I saved her life. She would not have conquered her illness without my colleagues' timely intervention. She would have been devoured by it alive, until she'd be nothing but an empty shell. She may have changed, but it's for the better. This way, I still have her. She may have changed, but my love for her hasn't. She will always be my little girl. I saved her life. I saved her life. And now…" A dangerous light flashed within the corners of his eyes, one that made the warning bells at the back of the women's minds sing wildly, as he finished with a triumphant grin, "…she will save mine. Go, dear. Daddy's friends have come to play."

The battle cry came again. But this time, Wynessa did not hold back her attack. She lunged at the three, a murderous look in her eyes, eyes that reflected her loss of humanity.

Atropos dodged. Clotho back-flipped away. Lachesis, however, was just a second too slow. She was soon slammed on the floor, the frenzied Wynessa on top of her, her frail figure unusually powerful. The assassin felt their nemesis' strong grip close in on her throat, robbing her of precious air and making dark spots dance in front of her eyes. She attempted to pry the other off her, channeling whatever energy was left in her to her hands, but it was to no avail. Much of her strength had already been depleted.

But she wasn't to succumb to ruin just yet. Soon, she was free again, and she rolled over to her side as she struggled to regain the composure she had lost. Though her attention wasn't completely fixed on the ongoing battle, she was aware of what had happened and what was happening. Clotho had come to her rescue, tackling Wynessa off her, and now the furious creature was bent on destroying the girl who had interrupted her fun.

Atropos stepped up to assist, but the younger girl held out her arm to stop her from doing anything. "Leave her to me. You and Lachesis go after Soontir, before he gets away or calls for reinforcements," she said confidently, flashing the other a knowing smile. If hand-to-hand combat was what their foe wanted, then she was the perfect warrior to give it to her. Also, she was well aware that their mission was to dispose of Soontir, and Wynessa was merely a distraction. It was her duty to create – and take care of – such distractions.

Gracefully, she turned to her adversary and slid into a defensive fighting stance, fists raised and poised to strike. She knew not what she was up against, or what it would take for her to be victorious, but she was ready. Come and get me, she thought with a smirk, motioning her to make the first move.

Recognizing the gesture as a challenge, the other dropped into a fighting stance as well, though it was a welcoming one, relaying her confidence that Clotho would not even get the opportunity to come swinging in with her fists. The impassive expression on her face, however, contorted considerably as she summoned her weapons – long, deadly talons that sprung out from the tips of her fingers.

And then, accepting the invitation, Wynessa charged.

-x-

An annoyed Arica emerged from her bedchamber, rushed down three flights of stairs, and headed for the back door of the Feu de Joie. One of her talents had interrupted her afternoon nap, informing her that there were two people who wanted to see her, but would not tell them their names or their visit's intent, thus preventing their hassle-free entry. Being the club owner and the person concerned, it was her responsibility to confront the guests – her guests – unholy the hour may be for her.

The annoyed expression on her face was quickly replaced by a smile as she saw who her visitors were, though she did not hurry to meet and welcome them to the place she considered her home. She allowed herself to enjoy the sight, as it was rare; the male was leaning sideways against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, while the female was in the middle of telling the sentry why they should be allowed to enter and given the VIP treatment.

She wasn't even that close when the man sensed her arrival. He averted his gaze from the arguing individuals by his side to her still-intimidating form, pushing himself off the wall almost lazily. Grinning, he then called out, "Hey, it's about time you came to let us in."

Hearing his words, his companion stopped in midsentence, her attention completely diverted to the redhead, who by then was only a few steps away from where the sentry stood. She, too, could not avoid smiling upon the sight of her. "Thank goodness! I thought I had to argue for the rest of the afternoon!"

"It's nice to see you, too," Arica commented, waving her hand to dismiss the sentry and allowing her guests to enter the premises. When the other refused to budge, she flashed him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. They're old friends of mine." And with that, she turned around to lead the way in for the newcomers, who immediately understood the gesture and followed without question. She wanted to indulge in a conversation, as they hadn't seen each other in a long time, but she found herself holding back and just keeping her mouth shut. She really didn't know why, but she knew it had something to do with the reason why they came to visit.

The other woman caught up with her after a few seconds, still smiling as she walked alongside her. "You've got a nice place here. It's not only spacious; it's conveniently in the heart of the city. If you haven't changed, then your bedroom's probably up in the fourth floor." Arica had to nod at the correctness of her statement, and she continued, "And the fact that you're good at names remains. Feu de Joie is just pretty. Fitting, even. But I'm just wondering, why didn't you use-"

Arica knew what she meant before she even finished her sentence. Grinning, she interrupted her by saying, "Jade's Fire would've been a dead giveaway," while shrugging as though she really didn't have a choice in the matter, when in fact she actually did. Shortly after those words left her, however, she frowned, her emerald eyes narrowing drastically. That couldn't have been just a passing statement. Not when it came from Mirax Horn. "You're not here just to check out the sights, are you?"

"I'm afraid not," Mirax's husband, Corran, said. He wasn't smiling anymore. "We came to speak to you about Moirae."

-x-

Atropos locked gazes with Wynessa, her hand on the hilt of her sword; she didn't want to use it against the girl – who really did nothing wrong and was innocent, technically speaking – but she knew that she would have to if the situation wouldn't change. Despite Clotho's proposition, she and Lachesis were both unable to leave the area, let alone go after Soontir. The apparently brainwashed young woman had prevented them from doing so.

With her extraordinary, inhuman strength, she had defeated Clotho with just one strike, knocking her out of the window in the process. She didn't even have to use her claws to dish out the damage she had inflicted on the youngest member of Moirae.

Upon hearing Clotho's piercing cry of defeat, Lachesis had turned back, enraged at what Wynessa had done to the young assassin. She drew her weapons from the folds of her trench coat and hurled them at their opponent, but the darts were deflected one by one with the other's claws, the executor of the said move not even breaking stride. And before Atropos got close enough to intervene, Wynessa had struck the blonde warrior on the chest, her claws tearing her skin and summoning her blood to rush forth. That and the impact of her landing on the cold, hard floor finally pulled her into the void of unconsciousness.

Anger was building up inside of the last assassin left standing. The savage beast that Soontir had unleashed had hurt the people she considered her sisters, and that was unforgivable. One of them might even be dead; she didn't know, she couldn't tell. To kill Wynessa was not part of the mission, but to allow her to live would be to give room for more injuries and even casualties. She couldn't allow that to happen. Not when she was capable of stopping it from happening.

The two warriors continued to circle each other like vicious jungle predators, eyeing each other intently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. As they circled on, Atropos could not help but wonder about so many things, like why and how her comrades had fallen so easily. Was Wynessa really that powerful? But how could have a few scars transformed the demure politician's daughter into a savage fighting machine? And Soontir's 'colleagues' – those who probably had inflicted the scars on her – who were they? What did they wish to accomplish by giving birth to a monster? Did they intend to turn her into such a creature, or was she merely some kind of experiment gone wrong?

As if in response to her initial unspoken inquiry, Wynessa leapt, her talons reaching out for her. She quickly dropped to the floor; the girl missed, but barely. She rolled over and pushed herself back up, thinking that she recovered a few good seconds ahead of the other to her advantage, only to find out that it was not so. Wynessa had gotten up as well, and was smiling, apparently enjoying her battle with the assassin.

Then, the other retracted her claws, much to Atropos' surprise. The girl then held both her arms out, and she understood. Though reluctantly, she took her sword – sheath and all – and threw it away from her. She then, too, brought her arms out, indicating that she had nothing more to hide. No other weapons or anything that could give rise to 'fancy tricks' of some sort.

Wynessa dropped into a fighting stance, and so did she.

She really didn't know what to do except to give her best. Hand-to-hand combat was not her specialty, it was Clotho's, and if the younger woman had lost with one strike, how could she possibly win? She eyed her opponent intently, watching out for any sign of weakness that she could take advantage of. Her lean body structure gave her speed and flexibility. Whatever Soontir's 'colleagues' did to her gave her strength and power. What did she lack?

The question had barely left her when the answer came. She was not sure if it would work, but at least she had something to work on. And so she decided to go to the offensive. She rushed forward to attack, but just when she was within range, she somersaulted to land behind the girl. Crouched on the floor, she did a low kick, sweeping her leg in a semi-circle.

It would've knocked Wynessa off her feet had the girl not jumped. She tumbled in mid-air and landed a few feet away from the assassin – the only warrior she considered a worthy opponent, and, therefore, worthy of battling without the use of weapons. She saw the other charge for her once more, and this time, she opened herself to the attack.

Punches and kicks rained on her; some she deflected, a spare few she allowed to hit her. She did not, however, leave her side open for long. The moment Atropos paused to draw on enough strength for a second strike, she returned the assault with her own set of punches and kicks, not giving the other the chance to strike back. She attacked, and kept on attacking, and while the assassin held on by shielding herself from the attacks and parrying whenever her speed would allow her to, she couldn't hold on forever.

A punch slid past Atropos' defenses, hitting her squarely on the gut, and she slammed against the wall. Pain shot through her like a lightning bolt, but she forced herself to ignore it, knowing that if she would fall, there would be no stopping Wynessa's rampage.

The girl advanced, taking slow steps, as if waiting for her opponent to get back up on her feet and attack her once more. The expression on her face was as smug and confident as ever – but at a closer, much closer glance, one could see that her body was not taking the beating as well as her will and mind were. Her body was still that of a young woman who had never been trained in the fighting arts, and it had already begun to display signs of exhaustion.

Seemingly oblivious to that, she looked down at Atropos, eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam as she said something in a language only she understood. While the words were incomprehensible, the message was clear; she was demanding the fallen warrior to get up and resume fighting her. Receiving no response from the assassin, she bent down to grab her by the neck, only to receive a blow right on the face, courtesy of Atropos' clenched fist.

The girl stumbled back, dazed and weakened by the unexpected strike she had caught head-on. The assassin had caught her off-guard by playing dead, and she felt as though she was cheated on by the move Atropos had executed. Infuriated and desiring revenge, she summoned her talons once more, determined to rip her nemesis into many pieces for cheating on what had been a fair fight. And with only one loud roar of vehemence, she pounced.

Then, she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, nobody dared to move, in fear that the battle might not really be over, that their foe might have withstood the effects of the tranquilizer and would once again rise up to destroy them both. Atropos only blinked, not trusting her other muscles to move just yet. Wynessa had literally come very close to tearing her apart; she was barely a feet away when she had been struck unconscious. Lachesis, on the other hand, stood across her with verdant eyes locked on the girl's still form, a new set of darts already drawn and ready to be hurled at her once more if necessary.

When Wynessa remained unconscious after quite sometime – probably a minute or so – both women dropped their guards and, together, sighed in relief. Atropos then rushed to the older assassin and gave her a hug; it even looked like she didn't want to let go. "I needed that. I really needed that. Your timing was perfect." She held on, allowing the frightened child in her to release the emotions that shook her bubble of security. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Lachesis told her with a smile, not really wanting to take the credit for 'saving' Atropos, as it was by fate's doing that she regained consciousness just in the nick of time, but found herself too worn out to even engage in an argument. She'd just have to argue the point later, when they were sure that their youngest member was safe and that all three of them were strong enough to take on another mission. Gently, she pulled away; as much as didn't want to interrupt the younger woman's emotional session, they still had work to do. "Now let's get Clotho and scram."

-x-

"Tranquilizer," Anakin identified after he took one of the darts apart and sniffed the fluid that was contained within. He then put the item aside and turned to address Jag, who had knelt down to caress his sister's face with one hand and enclose her left hand with the other, seemingly oblivious to everything else that was going on. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and assured to the older man, "Don't worry, Jag. She'll be okay. She should be up in two hours or so."

The other's hand had moved to gingerly trace the scars on her forehead with his fingers as he attempted to understand the rationale behind doing such a thing. But there was nothing there to understand. "There's only one thing I'm sure," he voiced out the last few fragments of his thoughts, "Moirae did this to her. And for that, I'm going to kill them. I'll kill them all."

Having pronounced his plans for revenge, he lifted his unconscious little sister off the floor and headed out of the basement. Anakin followed almost immediately, but only until the corridor; he then just decided to wait for his brother and Kyp to return, watching Jag disappear into the other end with disturbed, ice-blue eyes. True, he didn't see anything wrong with Wynessa, except for the ugly scars on her temple that definitely stood out, but his senses told him otherwise. He couldn't put his finger to it, but the fact that she had tranquilizer darts sticking onto her back when they arrived was just peculiar. And the scars – they weren't fresh. If Moirae had inflicted those wounds on her, wouldn't they be dripping with blood?

He frowned. Something fishy was going on.

---

Author's Notes:

Yep, I'm still alive. Don't give up on me! :) As you can see, I'm back. I apologize for my absence once again, I've just been terribly busy. The previous semester was so hectic, and I had other things to take care of as well, such as play rehearsals and singing engagements. Also, I was unable to read any of the NJO books for quite a while, and it was only after reading Reunion a couple of days ago that I got all inspired to write. Again, I'm really really sorry. I don't know when I'll be able to post the next chapter, and I don't want to promise anything, but hopefully I'll have a chapter or two out by December.

Anyway, there you have it, the second half of the double-episode special. I hope you liked it!

Organa46 – Thanks for the review! And well, I'm really having problems with the age gaps, but I don't think an error of a year or two wouldn't make much of a difference. Still, I'll be doing some editing starting from the very chapter sometime during Christmas break, and I'll take care of that. Why Leia's in a detention cell? You'll just have to wait and see. Thanks again!

brokeassproduc – Thanks so much! I really appreciate your support!

Gwendolyn Rogan – Thank you! Those words coming from you really mean a lot, considering that you're a really very good author! I just hope I'm doing things right, though. I haven't been reading the books or even fanfics lately, and my characterization of the cast might get all messed up or something. Or even their relationships and whatnot. Please do let me know if you see any of that. Again, thanks a lot!

socal-schitzophrenic – You too, thank you for your heartwarming comments! I'm really thankful for your support despite the fact that I take so much time to update. Rest assured that I will do my best to make the chapters worth waiting for, hehe. I can't say your wish is my command in terms of the pairings, but I'll do my best! Many thanks!

Dana – Wow, that's very nice to hear. Thank you! Though I'm sure you can be a very good author, too. Just work on little pieces whenever you're free, I know you can come up with something. And if you need anything, feel free to email or IM me; I'll be glad to be of assistance! And don't worry. I'm going to finish this story, even if it takes me years! Thank you so much for the support!

X-Wing – Thanks a lot! I'm so glad to know that you're liking my story, and I'm very thankful for your nice words. I'll do my best to post more as soon as I can. And about your addiction, I'll do what I can to fuel it even more. Thanks again!

Again, I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed and stuck with me this far. You're definitely giving me the inspiration I need to keep on going as well. Your support is priceless! Thank you so much, and may the Force be with you always! :p