Where the Angels Sleep and Devils lie

"Dante," the warm voice called out to him. "Dante." That voice seemed so very important to him. The warmth he felt, the caring, the love. "You need to wake up."

"I don't want to," he called out, his eyes still closed. He had felt almost as if he could care less about the rest of the world. It was safe, where he was.

"But you must."

"Why?"

"Because you're not done yet."

"What do you mean? I want to sleep. I can always finish tomorrow."

The warm, feminine voice chuckled. "Well, what if there were no tomorrow?"

"What do you mean? There will always be a tomorrow."

"Not always, Dante. Not for some. But for you, there shall be plenty; that I promise you."

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No, Dante."

Opening his eyes, he couldn't help but be admired by the cool air as it touched him. The blossoms from the tree he sat under flew, almost as if they had a will of their own. The sweet scent of fruit filled his senses and nurtured his desire to feast on them.

He looked around and found that he was lying under the shade, resting on the trunk of the oaken tree. A warm hand caressed his back, as he traced her arm all the way to her shoulders.

Unwittingly tickling her, she giggled, which caused the Jedi to smile even more. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting her lips and letting the Force flow between them. She smiled even further, sending a wave of love and reassurance to the Jedi.

"You know, I could never stop loving you."

"I know," she said, her smile never faltering for a moment.

He felt something within her, a shifting, yet minute and subtle shift in her presence. "What is it?" He asked her, his concern growing slightly more and more with each passing second.

"You know that this is not real."

"Ah, I feel that it is. Besides, what's not to love about this place? Dantooine is a fine place for us to stay. We could rebuild the Enclave, or we can stay here, by the grove and by our home."

"Do you think the children will like that?"

"The kids…?" Now he was puzzled. It only occurred to him that he hadn't really looked at her. He didn't even know who she was. He began to turn around, only to face… what? He continued to look, hearing the faint whisper echo around him.

"Dante… wake up…"

The faint whisper seemed somehow… familiar; somehow alive. Suddenly, the grove began to shift into something less than appealing. Darkened clouds enshrouded the peaceful blue sky; lightning raged within the onyx spectres as a powerful wind tore the flower heads off their precious stems, sending them away into a chaotic, yet somehow serene blossom.

"Where am I?"

"You're lost within the Force," came a cold and deep reply. "As am I…"

Turning around, to gaze at this new figure that stood before him, clad in the blackest of black cloaks, hiding the shadowed face, Dante could only ask, "and you are…?"

"Are you familiar with the history of the Galaxy?"

"Some of it…"

"Hmm… have you been to Korriban?"

Surprised, he could only reply to the figure, "you're a Sith Lord?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. What I am now is nothing but a mere ethereal vision that has some… tangibility in your realm. Strange; I feel the presence of Light within you, yet… I sense the darkness has tasted you, in some form."

The voice… Dante had heard this voice before. It suddenly made sense. "I've heard your voice before."

Sighing, the figure removed the hood to reveal a pale, drab face, with piercing orange eyes and no hair. The face was long and tired, with years of weariness that seemed to make his appearance seem much more daunting. "You may call me Tulak."

Why does his name seem so familiar? The young Jedi tried to recall where the old man's name had come up and found that there was one place where it would have been found. The one place where—

"You are carrying something that is very important."

"Tulak Hord. You're the legendary blade master. The Sith who had killed countless Jedi with a fearsome—no."

"That is correct, young Jedi." The ageless figure smirked, hinting with perfect white teeth, all shaped like incisors; his eyes twinkled with a dark promise. "I am tired, however. And let us say that the darkness is no longer comforting," the former Sith said, stressing the last word.

"So what do you want with me?" Dante kept his expression guarded, eager to put as much distance between him and the much-feared Dark Lord of the Sith—even if the figure wasn't as powerful as the Jedi had stipulated.

Smiling, the former Sith Lord shook his head. "I am not what you think, Dante. I merely wish for, shall we say, reconciliation with my former allies."

"Former allies?"

"Yes, I was a member of the Jedi Order, long before my…descent—or ascent—into the Dark Side. Regardless of my past, there is much that I must ask of you."

"Ask? You were a Sith Lord who began to goad me into joining the Dark Side so I can kill—" Suddenly it came back to the young Jedi. Hessian driving his blades into Dante's chest. The burst of pain and fire from within his body igniting and sending him into the grove. He was unconscious, but he heard the last words from the Mandalorian: "Now you will die…oh…" He found a great weight was lifted from him, followed by himself rising while another faint voice continued to call him.

"Dante…wake up…the wounds, they're gone…I can feel you…"

It was Rin. Dante knew it. He looked back at the former Sith, who continued to wait patiently for the Jedi. "You know something, don't you?"

"I know that which you face, Dante."

"Do you really?"

"Evil begets evil. I know that which can create curds out of the blood of men…and women alike."

"What is it that you want, Tulak?"

"Two favours, which is all I ask of you. Only then, can I truly be free—" and in a tone that spoke myriad ways of torment, "—and so will you."

"What are your terms?" He asked the older man, attempting to betray no emotion and remain undaunted.

"Destroy the holocron which you carry from the Knight's tomb. It is that which needed to be protected. It is a form that can consume the warrior."

"It is the holocron that you created to teach your fighting style."

"Yes."

"All right, what next?"

"Kill Phaete."

Now the Jedi was taken aback. "What do you mean 'kill' Phaete?"

"Exactly that, young Jedi. He is one of the very things that profane this Galaxy. He should not be allowed to live. It is a travesty that he has continued to live, thus far."

"A Jedi does not allow his prisoners to be killed."

"Believe me, he is no Jedi."

"And you are? You still expect me to take the word of a Sith Lord?"

"I don't expect anything. Just know that I have the ability to keep you alive… for now. If you choose not to listen to me, you will find that my honey-tongued words can become razor-sharp talons."

"And I can be rid of you…" This was something he didn't want. Something wasn't right. The years—and the Dark Side—had obviously been unkind to the Sith, yet somehow, it didn't appear as if the vaunted Dark Lord wanted to be redeemed. It almost appeared as if he sought a vessel with which to do his bidding.

"I can feel your rage rising, Dante. Do you want to listen to the soft whispers and strike me down?" His tone became venomous as a crimson blade ignited from his very hand. "Or do you plan to stand there and suffer as I take over your body and kill PHAETE!"

Dodging the leaping thrust from the obviously skilled and incredibly agile Sith Lord, Dante could only pray for a lightsaber, hoping that one materialized in his hand. Either he fights back or finds someone else in possession of his body. How can death become so complicated?

Leaping from side to side, watching the grove fall into decay and complete utter death, Dante could only evade each thrust and slice the Sith Lord brought to him.

"This is no way to redeem your soul!" He screamed at the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps I never needed to." The Sith brought his blade high into the air and brought it down, eager to cleave the Jedi in half—

--only to be blocked by a sapphire blade.

"No! That's impossible!"

Grinning now, Dante merely asked, "what's the matter, my Lord? Angered that this unwilling host can fight back?" Shoving the blade and Tulak back, the Jedi Knight rose, brandishing his blade towards his very much wary foe. "I'm glad to disappoint you, Tulak."

"You just don't seem to understand me, you fool!" The Dark Jedi continued to hiss as he brought his blade around to decapitate his would-be apprentice. "I could have given you all you ever wanted. All you had to do was kill the Iktotchi!"

"What's so special about him?" The young Jedi retorted, parrying the slash and using his fist to slam the Sith Lord away from him. He knew that Hord was using his signature fighting style. Somehow there had to be a weakness, after all—Hord had to have been defeated, somehow.

"He will bring ruin to the Sith! He will only seek to doom the Galaxy in a way not thought possible. He does not work for Malak! His Masters are much more maniacal and deadlier than you can imagine, Whelp!" The Sith spun around, keeping his blade in motion, almost as if it had a mind of its own. The lightsaber seemed to arc around him, forming a barrier close to energy. "They are of a nature that not even Revan nor Malak could have comprehended!"

Dante knew that keeping Tulak talking could buy only so much time—a precious commodity he was running short of swiftly. Somehow there had to be a weakness in the Sith Lord's fighting style. "So why do you need me?"

Shoving the Jedi back, forcing him to continuously defend himself from any strike, Tulak smirked. "You haven't figured that out yet? The Dark Side has touched you in a way I have not yet begun to fathom. You were injured just enough so that I can contact you. I need one of two things—an apprentice or a host body. You, my friend, provide both, yet it seems I will be choosing the latter over the former!" Bringing his blade to lock with Dante, he pivoted on his right leg, bringing his knee out and driving it into the stomach of his adversary.

Doubling over, Dante collapsed, hunting for breath while his lightsaber continued to somehow remain in his hand.

"And so, young Dante, you shall find eternal peace with the rest of your ilk." The figure was close to him and he could feel Tulak raising his lightsaber. Somehow, the Jedi could sense the Sith Lord.

"Dante…wake up…fight the Dark presence…you are stronger than this…wake up…I am here for you… I will never leave you…" The voice continued to ring faintly in his head.

"Rin..." He whispered under his breath. She was sending her strength into him. Their connection had grown stronger with each passing moment. Her love was keeping him alive. Perhaps she had been keeping him alive for far longer than he had originally anticipated.

"What was that, Dante?" Tulak obviously didn't hear the young Knight's words clearly. That gave him enough time to defeat the Sith.

"Make it quick," he said calmly. Gripping his blade, the Jedi moved his feet to allow him to spin about and leap at the Sith.

"Very well. Now I shall look forward to your body." The smile could be sensed behind those words. "I will make sure to keep Rin entertained when I take over."

Dante only bit his lower lip. It was all he could do to fight down the rage and prevent himself from striking out too early.

"I can feel your anger. Too bad, it is a shame that you have to die now. Goodbye; I would say that it was a pleasure to know you, but I would be lying. I have what I need now." With that, Tulak raised his weapon high above his head, anticipating Dante's possible last stand. Unfortunately for him, he proved to be right—and too late.

Leaping out, with the aid of the Force, Dante found himself near a hair's breath and spun his lightsaber across the torso of the Sith Lord, slicing the Jedi in half. Gazing at the surprised—and disappointed—Sith Lord, Dante found himself thrust far, far away, before he could even say anything to Tulak.

He opened his eyes to a sight that couldn't have been prettier. He found that breathing was painful, if only for a few moments as he gasped the precious life source into his healed lungs. He couldn't have been happier to be alive with her.

"Hello Sleepyhead."

"Hello Rin. You were there all the way."

"That's because someone I loved needed me."

Dante couldn't help but smile. Suddenly he remembered the one who nearly killed him. "Where is he?"

She pointed to Dante's right, where he leaned over to look and saw Dierak's body lying still.

"Well, it's probably good that he's gone now. Perhaps the Force will guide him to a place where he can find peace and contentment."

"And how about you? I can't seem to leave you alone for a second."

Smiling, he could only reply, "I'm not that helpless. I did manage to do well on my own for a while. But thanks for the help." He leaned in and kissed her softly, not breaking away for a few moments as he savoured each precious moment he touched her.

"I thought I'd lost you, Dante. I thought I would never see you again." She looked away for a moment, as if to gather her thoughts and to stay strong.

"I'd never leave you. Not for a moment, my Love." He brought her face close to his as he kissed her again. The warmth passed through both of them and they held each other close for a moment or two longer.

"Should we leave this place?" She asked, smiling softly.

"Yes, but when we leave here, we have to make sure that no one will ever come here."

"All right."

As they left the chamber, both Jedi used the Force and crushed the entire chamber, bringing rocks down to collapse on the entrance. Both Jedi made their way to the Thunderbolt, eager to get past the day's events; both were eager to mend their wounds until they made their way to the final destination, which would be revealed very, very shortly.

Gors finished applying the Kolto patches on the Jedi's chest. "Have you figured out why he wanted you to kill Phaete?"

"No," Dante answered. "All I know is that, Dosheo carried Tulak's holocron. And if that thing was the former Sith Lord, I don't know what fate has in store for him now." He threw on his black shirt, feeling the ache and sharp pains that reached out from his joints and his ribs. His encounter with Hessian had certainly taken a lot out of him. If it weren't for Rin, he wasn't sure he would have made it back.

As he left, he was joined by Rin, Lon and Simon in the main hold of the boxy and rustic freighter. Phaete was resting comfortably in the dormitory. It appeared the Master had no interest in the relics. Revealing in his left hand, he showed them the near cylindrical shape of the key.

"This is what I have found."

"So where do we go now?" Simon asked him, his expression eager.

In Dante's other hand, he revealed a small holopad. Plugging it into a slot, the holovid displayed Dosheo's last entry.

"This is my final entry. During my travels, I encountered something that may yet reveal that which we are looking for. I found the third key on this strange planet. It reeks of the Dark Side, yet it seems to be balanced with the Light. It makes no sense.

"2 days ago, I found a crashed ship. It appeared to be from the Sith War over a thousand years ago. In it, I found several skeletons, Sith lightsabers and a holocron of a most peculiar origin.

"I've played it and I have concluded that it is Tulak Hord's lost holocron. It carries the fighting style of the Dark Jedi, yet, it carries something most peculiar. As of late, I have heard voices that beckon me to learn of it. It begs me to acquire the information locked within. I cannot begin to fathom the power this surely holds, yet I also cannot begin to fathom the danger it will surely unleash.

"This star system is odd. I find it more comfortable and I begin to ask myself why I should not open the holocron? I found it. Surely its teachings will aid me in my journey to uncover the Force. Perhaps it will eventually be responsible for saving the Galaxy from danger that may arise in the future.

"I am tired of this. The third key holds some measure of power. Almost as if it were a lightsaber in its own right. But I cannot be certain what it is. I am tired and I shall be leaving this planet soon. I know now that the holocron has been attracting unwanted visitors. I shall—oh no. You shall die, Sith!"

"Dosheo! It's me! It's Orin!"

The blue hued images began to fade out as Dosheo ignited his lightsaber and leapt out to assault his companion.

Everyone stood silent as a screen of projections light up, indicating Dagobah's presence and isolated a cluster of stars in a remote and untouched area. Far away from known space. Within that image, a set of numbers appeared for a few moments before the image faded.

"So that's it then," Lon commented. "The Unifying Force is just a handful of light years away. We can go home soon."

"I don't think it is that easy, Lon," Rin replied.

"Nothing is ever that easy. We're Jedi. Nothing ever would be easy for us."

"You really think so, Dante?" The blind swordsman looked at his compatriot curiously. He knew of the encounter he had and understood that Dante needed more time to rest. His body would heal faster than any normal human, but he still needed time to recuperate.

"I know so, my friend." Sighing, he faced his friends. "We'll be heading to the star system in the next hour. I need to rest until then. I'll see you all soon."

With that, he left. Drained, Dante found too many questions and not enough answers plagued him. Something didn't seem right. If Phaete was not working for the Jedi or the Sith Empire, then whom was he working for?

At this point, he needed rest and then he could determine what had to be done. The deaths of too many had been on his mind lately. This was a nightmare from which he found he couldn't wake up from. Sleep seemed to be an escape; temporary death.