Disclaimer: All non-original characters and ideas mentioned here is SW material, not owned by me. Like countless others, I'm just playing in the Lucas Universe, inspired by Episode 3. Only the five Forgotten characters were created by me, along with the planets Ichosar and Whrede. Jomark and it's High Castle were created by Timothy Zahnduring his opus of SW, the Thrawn Trilogy.
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Seven: Fire, Lightning, andIce-
The last hit had sent stinging smoke of charred flesh into Asaajj's eyes, and opening them now would only expose her membranes to stinging seawater. So it was a good thing then, that even with a mind as muddled as hers had become, she could still choose and act by feel.
Obviously, the undertides had swept her out into the water. It was impossible to tell by how close she was to the beach she'd been swept off of, but her feet could not touch bottom when she tried to stand up in the rushing currents. All the same, she planted both feet downward to present a heavier object for the currents to move, fighting the urge to swim in any given direction- and the urge to breathe.
Gradually, the stinging went away. Asaajj opened one eye a crack, testing it, then opened both completely.
It was a good thing she hadn't tried swimming in the current- she'd been upside down. The direction she'd thought was up would have actually taken her still closer to the bottom, a seamless meshing of coral beds with sand gathered in every one of its pits. Now she could make out the glare of the moon upon the surface of the water, guiding her back to blessed oxygen.
Swimming faster and faster against the powerful current, she violently broke out on the surface, desperate to get a few breaths in before the undertow pulled her back under like a predator animal.
She had only had training for underwater environments a few times- most of the worlds she'd visited during the Clone Wars were barren, dusty places devoid of this kind of phenomenon. The current might go on for miles like this, forcing any poor soul who strayed into the sea down towards the bottom. How could she….?
Treading beneath the surface, she grimaced. The Force, idiot. Telekinese yourself. This effort called to attention just how much strength the last battle and the loss of her left hand had sapped out of her, as it took several tries to get it right. The memory of that giant Transdoshan's leering grin was what finally did it- it was enough to make her hover over the surface, casting a bizarrely distorted reflection beneath the moon's.
Oxygen had never felt so sweet, the water below never more like a filthy trap. Unable to maintain the power for the whole way, she settled for a frenzied paddle towards the cliff she had spotted, and the rocks clustered beneath it. The cliff definitely wasn't the one she'd fallen from- this one was taller, and was decorated with shrubbery up top that could have broken a fall. But that really wasn't a surprise, considering how long she'd allowed the current to carry her away from her pursuer.
Ignoring the bitter cold, she at last burst out of the sea and onto one of the rocks, clutching it with her single remaining hand, breathing deeply to get back what she'd lost.
What my lungs lost, she thought scathingly. Keeping a grip on this thing isn't any easier than swimming with one arm- something I'll never get back!
Renewed rage towards Trasshk filled her up along with oxygen. Twice. That was twice now that maniac reptile had come withinatoms of killing her in a single day. It was one thing to open her eyes wide with fury and vow the most brutal revenge she could imagine… pulling it off was going to be another.
But still, despite the best efforts of Trasshk, Count Dooku, and Skywalker, she was still alive. Exhausted, crippled, drenched, mauled and pummeled…
But alive. That was all that mattered.
-
Boss Lars slid one of the small cups towards his guests and smirked. "He'll be here, all right. He may be a bastard, but he's punctual, I'll give him that."
Neither of his guests sat. The tiny little cup Lars offered would not have been more than a sip for present company anyway. Trasshk would be hard pressed to fit in the chair or to fit his jaws around the ivory cup… and Gran Lassau, still cloaked in black robes and armor, had not eaten or drunk anything in either of his allies' presences, so the possibility that he did not do either normally was not out-of-hand.
At least now, I know he's not zoned out or something, Trasshk mused silently, resisting the urge to scratch at the tiny slug nestled in his back, beneath his gray organic Doshkok Armor. Lassau had spoken up for the first time when he had been making ready to leap from the Blastboat, and then again when he had returned sporting two lightsaber scars his armor hadn't entirely stopped.
According to Lassau, the slug he'd given him would numb and heal his injuries even faster than the Trandoshan regenerative process with its slime. So far, all he'd felt was a mild chill back there.
Just as ever, there was still so much that he and Lon didn't know about their 'ally', namely how it was that he showed up invisible to Lon's strongest mental probe. Still cowled beneath a hood blacker than his body armor, he wasn't telling.
The man they'd heard the rumor from, by contrast, affected the illusion of being completely open and honest. He had sandy brown hair cut into a something approaching the clean flat top favoured by Imperial navy brass, and two small blue eyes framing a thin mouth that left much of his large face blank of many features. Despite his ties with the overbloated Hutts, Boss Lars apparently understood that physical fitness was one of the best ways to keep one's underlings from getting any ideas- Trasshk had employed that principle himself on T'gattok.
Normally, he would never have bothered to associate with any kind of local authority for a search like this. He would have tracked down his second piece of prey by trial-and-error and been done with it. It was only under Lassau's suggestion that they were here, in an attempt to avoid a bloodbath that would inevitably attract more Imperial attention. Working here would let them find and kill Darth Vader and collect Boss Lars' handsome cash reward, at the same time avoiding risking the wrath of the empire, at least until the deed was done.
Deciding that Lassau had made enough decisions for one day, Trasshk took the lead in speaking to Lars. "If you're certain that he'll be coming for you tonight, then, we'll hunt him down. I suggest you remove your men from the premises- send them out for a night off, or something.
Lars paled slightly but did not sweat. "Send them all away? If he gets past you two-"
"He won't", Trasshk replied with a toothy grin. "And your men are so far out of their league here that they would only get in our way. You realize that we're on a planet that is disgustingly proud of its low crime and unemployment rate. By the time these men come to you for help, a lot of other people have passed them over for a job."
To their credit, the guards Lars had posted outside the small room made no move or sign- only the ripples of their resentment in the Force gave them away to Trasshk. Back in the room, he felt Lars' fear as he conceded. "Alright. I'll call the foreman, but you had better be right about this."
As Lars fiddled with his commlink, Trasshk allowed his awareness to spread further still, out beyond some dozen guards and to the city beyond. So many painfully innocent citizens, most of them asleep by now. Just for fun, he blasted one man's dreams with a vision of him devouring the man piece by piece. No surprise that he woke up in a cold sweat.
Then he felt it. A tremor in the Force from the emotions of a single man, growing more distinctive with time…
"Snap it up, human", Trasshk spoke to Lars again. "He's just about on your front door." When Lassau reacted, casting his gaze around the room as if expecting Vader to pop out of the walls any second, the Trandoshan placed a claw on his arm.
"If you were thinking of assisting me, don't bother", he hissed to the cloaked figure. "As you may have seen from my spar with the girl, I work best alone."
Frusturatingly, he couldn't tell what Lassau's emotional reaction to this was. Instead, he simply extrapolated from what he imagined Lassau was feeling. "Let this serve as an object lesson to you then, Gran, and watch from afar. In this holohorror, I am the monster."
-
As it had many times before, the red glow of Vader's saber, instead of illuminating like a glow rod, seemed only to exacerbate the feeling in the night that all sentient creatures should be at rest right now. The stars were out tonight, and Vader wondered which one of them held the answers to who he truly was.
Of course, this deep in the white city of Chandrila, only a fraction of the stars were visible through his lenses, the rest obscured by buildings loaded with sleeping consciousnesses he could feel acutely even as they slumbered. The dreams and thoughts of the just, measured with those of the unjust. It is only for the unjust that creatures like myself exist, to rectify their crimes.
He wasn't kidding himself. In appearance, he knew that he bore a universally-common guise of evil. The armor that kept him alive was the gist of man's nightmares, and most people here would look no deeper than that before drawing judgment.
What, then, was the alternative- paint his black armor white as Chandrila's great cities? From time to time, he had caught glimpses of a number of men that appeared to be soldiers garbed in bone white armor that the people here gave with a mixture of fear and obedience to. But for all their authority, they were never the ones in charge. Vader needed only to peek inside their minds to see the inner flaw- all the minds of those troopers were identical in their lack of any kind of individual initiative.
Something that he had no want for. He could decipher that much- he was neither a clone nor the minion of authority. He was unique, but the people all around him would only look as close as the armor to determine who was good or bad.
It was this initiative that saved him. By casually drifting past each sleeping soul with a gaze, he foresaw the danger and leapt to the side just in time, nearly crashing against the side of the ornamental bridge he'd just set foot upon.
Perhaps, he mused, there is something to be said for first impressions after all. The reptile that had nearly eviscerated him just now was proof of that. With it's small horns of bone and jagged needle teeth, it looked more like a depiction of a demon than anything else Vader could remember. It's own red lightsaber, extending from an ugly circle of metal in the reptile's right arm, was twice the size and thickness of his.
Very well then, demon, he decided. Prepare to meet the black knight, backed by the power of the Force. His first move was to glide back the way he had come with his weapon at the ready, in order to back the reptile further onto the white marble bridge, out to the point where a fall would be costly even if it was not compounded by the ravine at the bottom.
The demon seemed to give to that demand, but made Vader pay for the move with a counter-slash towards his helmet. Just blocking it, he knew he had never remembered feeling so much power packed into a single saber swing. Finesse, then, was the order of the night. He circled the larger fighter, raining down light blows to the keep that huge saber at bay while he observed it's user's style.
Responding with a snarl that Vader imagined would have intimidated or even stunned anyone else on this planet, the reptile took another huge mammoth swing at his chest. He stabilized his weapon, brining it up as a straight pole, stiff and unbendable as law.
Which is not to say law is underbendable- the blow still knocked him back a few yards, his black cape serving to cushion the landing. Still, now he knew something about this demon.
Namely that, like many of the larger sentients in the galaxy, he used brute force and immense size to back up every action he took, saber included.
He could not remember the identity or species of the speaker, but he knew a voice of wisdom had once reminded him that size matters not.
He decided to let that impulse demonstrate itself. The next time the demon came around with a strong lunge, he squatted beneath it and the creature's right arm and slashed for the joint. To his amazement, the blade slid away as though it was a wooden stick pushing duracrete, sent off course and allowing the demon to escape with nothing but a few crisped scales. That brief shock gave the larger fighter time to step backwards, angling the blade down at Vader's skull.
Then the reptile, too, was surprised when he shot his other arm into the path of the metal tube that went up his right arm, stopping the saber in the process.
Now they were both hung up on each other's defenses: the demon's blade was halted just above the head, while it had grabbed Vader's saber arm in a strong wrestling grip to stop it from moving. Vader would have called it a stalemate except for the fact that the reptile had talons that could, with enough time and effort, penetrate his arm exoskeleton and lacerate whenever pitiful burned flesh lay underneath. The pressure was already sending his saber arm into spasms of pain.
Exerting his own pressure through the Force seemed to help for about three seconds- where other men had fallen, eyes bulging while clutching at their throats, the creature repelled it with a wave of equal power and gave a grin of pure feral joy. In just a few more moments, his saber arm would burst like an eggshell.
Strapped for energy-the energy to fight back- as he was, Vader didn't resist when some combination of Force-sense and instinct came together, triggered by a rather wet, if faint, breath-noise. Not his, but more like something breathing into a tube. That impulse thought it would be a good idea to slam his gloved right arm against the metal of the demon's saber enough to back him up and loosen his grip on the other arm, parting their grapple just enough to let a glob of dark blue venom pass through…
And enough to drop him to his knees for a fatal moment. Worse, the impact had shot the saber right out of his left arm and deactivated it. The Force called it back to his black glove before it hit the pavement, but he could see from the start that even the quick act of getting his lightsaber back in hand, switching it back on, and moving it into a blocking stance would provide too much of an opening for the massive bar of neon red that was the reptile's right arm.
Never mind gravity, there was nowhere to go but backwards over the rail.
-
Trasshk looked up in the direction thepoison had come from and scowled into the darkness. "Thought I told you to butt out, Gran."
The intended target of his accusation was perfectly blended into his perch on the bridge's primary strut, so that only his white left eye and his weapon could be seen against the backdrop even by Trandoshan eyes. "Poison. You looked like you could use some help. Lon asked me to watch out for you."
This only incensed him further. "You weasley, diseased little… I was about to have his pathetic human guts for garbage when you fired that thing. You almost hit me!"
A blink of the white eye was the only physical response Lassau needed. "Perhaps we could save this for another time, then? Our prey is out of sight and escaping fast."
Trasshk spun back to the rail he'd seen Vader fall over and knew his 'partner' was right. Vader's cape could prevent a fatal fall from this height and let him land in the river, or even atop one of the buildings down on the lower banks. Peering over the railing, he saw the so-called Lord of the Sith had opted for the latter.
Hold on, he interjected, there's someone else with him…her?
-
It hadn't taken long for Asaajj Ventress to locate who she was looking for once Trasshk and Vader had started heating things up- she could feel the raw power flowing forth from the two of them, providing the perfect means to catch up to Skywalker.
Now he stood before her, a bit the worse for wear but otherwise physically undamaged. She allowed herself to feel something like elation- Skywalker was her lifeline. If he failed, if he died, not only would she not receive the pay she'd been promised, but, given the nature of her employer, she wouldn't be long for this world either.
She also noticed that Skywalker still had his lightsaber gripped in his hands, active. Having lost both of hers in her last meeting with the Trandoshan behemoth, she could easily consider Skywalker's lightsaber something of a lifeline as well. After all, the damn lizard hasn't lost his yet either. It's part of him.
She hadn't expected a thank-you for coming back to help, but neither had she expected a saber lunge stopped just short of her throat. "Another assassin?", he growled dangerously.
It was a short time before she dared move her throat to try and talk some sense into him. "You… don't recognize me?"
He didn't need the saber to impress the fact that her life was in his hands- a telekinetic pinch of her throat was his first answer. "I do not. Who are you, and who is that alien Jedi?"
"He's… not a Jedi", she barely choked out. "He's a Forgotten. He came here to kill both of us, Skywalker. Do you remember nothing?"
Of course, she couldn't see any emotion through that gruesome black helmet, whereas hers were an open book even without the Force. From him, she detected nothing but confusion and anger.
"I remember fighting you.", he managed, letting Ventress dangle lightly on the choke. "On a jungle world."
"Yes, yes, on Yavin 4", Ventress said impatiently. "Don't you remember your master's orders, Skywalker? Don't you remember who you are!"
"Why don't you tell me, then? Tell me, or die."
This was going to be trickier than she had envisioned. Obviously, Skywalker had somehow lost all recollection of who he was, or why he was here, but lost none of his penchant for strangling those he didn't like. She'd fought him before, but Ventress was by no means an authority on the history of Anakin Skywalker. And she was on a tight time limit, too- Trasshk would be here any second now.
"You were the Chosen One of the Jedi", she finally spoke hoarsely, drawing on the bits of history she'd heard. "Now champion of the Empire. As I did, you came here on a mission for Senator Palpatine!"
What she got wasn't nearly the result she'd wanted. Re-accessing all these destroyed memories must have set off something because Skywalker immediately lost the malicious concentration that kept her partially asphyxiated. He clutched his helmet as if to squeeze the mother of all brain-aches out of it.
Breathing deep once, Asaajj looked around and hissed in displeasure- Trasshk had jumped the bridge and she could feel his presence closing on them. The only person who could stand up to him now had his mind scrambled. But, at least he'd picked up on that- he managed to look beyond his own pain and nodded vigorously towards another tall building. Where Asaajj could leap the gaps, Skywalker glided over them like a wraith.
That would keep them well away from Trasshk and his mystery partner, at least for a little while. Skywalker leaned against an airfoil, showing clear signs of mental exhaustion over his mechanical breathing. "Who am I, Ventress?"
Equally tired herself, she fixed him with a sullen look, now getting annoyed with this game. "I'd have thought you'd have figured it out by-"
She broke off, once again roughly choked from afar. Skywalker was up again, looming menacingly over her, his searing anger tightening the invisible noose. "Not that name, the other one!"
"Pa… Pal… patine named you… Darth Vader…"
-
The name was a trigger. A key, that brought forth the three walls that divided everything Vader had been from everything he had become since killing Reyne A'kla.
Fire. He felt it crawling up his back, the boiling heat and lava of Mustafar. Where, for all intents and purposes, Anakin Skywalker had perished- burned to a crisp.
Lightning. The acid tang in the air that resulted from Palpatine's lightning, coupled with the raw emotional shock at the death of Master Windu.
Ice. A chill that froze his spine, when he's woken up in a cold sweat, wondering when his nightmares about Padme would turned to reality.
He had never wanted any of it to happen, and yet he could never deny the truth of what had happened, how everything had gone so horribly wrong. No, a part of his soul seemed to cry out, I can't face that present. Too much pain. Too much sorrow. Let me stay here!
But he had not lost so many memories so as to lack knowledge about why it was this way, and just where that whining came from. Besides, where was 'here'? A lifetime spent as a champion of a single planet, chosen over being champion of the galaxy?
Finally he made the gesture against all measure of pain, and the walls went down one by one, broken apart by the power of raw fury against his weakness.
I must be strong; I can no longer whine or run away from the course I have set. I must see it through to its end, for I have nothing else left…
Behind the black lenses, his eyes opened, once again whole.
The situation had changed.
While he had torn apart the locks on his memories Reyne A'kla had forged with her dying breath, Trasshk had appeared on the roof of the building. Without a saber, Asaajj Ventress had been helpless to stop him from advancing on his prey. He didn't see or feel the other one with Trasshk- the one with the poison-shooting eye- but he knew he had to be close by, waiting to jump in and help.
With detached interest, he noticed Asaajj had tried something new, something totally against all notions of fair saberplay- she had reached out with her hatred andcrushed the mechanical apparatus on Trasshk's right arm off, disabling his saber. It hadn't stopped him long- Asaajj was agile and ferocious, but she didn't have nightmare claws, or Doshkok armor thick enough to stop blaster bolts. Vader saw her fall to the ground, bleeding in several spots.
Which left just Trasshk and Vader, toe-to-toe. He recognized the demon's species now, along with the technology that composed his right arm. Asaajj had done a first class job telekinetically crushing the components that made up its core despite his resistance.
He still did not feel much for a battle-scarred Rattatak like her, but the fact remained that she, like Sedriq Uso, had helped him in his time of need. So she would not die- not if he could help it.
At last, Trasshk gave up on trying to reactivate his ruined saber arm- coaxing more energy out of whatever he used for a power core might result in an overload at the barrel stump. He was still preparing himself to a fight an opponent armed with a lightsaber when Vader tossed his to the side casually.
"I have something different in mind, alien", Vader said, deftly stepping between Ventress and Trasshk. "A capable creature such as yourself deserves better than a one-sided slaughter. So I will grant you a chance for victory."
Trasshk said nothing; he only swelled with indignation at Vader's gall for dictating the terms of their conflict. All the same, he made no move yet, merely swearing under his breath at the Sith Lord.
"My master has told me", Vader went on, "that one of the most powerful forces a sentient being can harness is the power of fear. We will test his theory."
With that, he followed Trasshk's lead and diverted all concentration to the coming contest. They had played it this before, Vader knew- Trasshk's screech earlier had been a blast wave, meant solely for the purpose of making other creatures lose all control of their relevant sphincters and run away. His opponent was also extremely adept at projecting images of absolute terror directly into the weak-minded, as he had done while dogfighting the Imperial navy.
This was not a true battle, but a game of intimidation. It was not a game he intended to lose.
Trasshk moved strangely; for a moment, Vader feared a strike from his claws. Instead, he shifted forward towards him, slowly leaving a hollow shell of scales behind him.
He's shedding his skin, Vader realized in alarm. A natural process for reptilian species, but one that can be accelerated by the Force.
Now he had to actually crane his neck to see- Trasshk had grown significantly by leaving his old skin behind. Whereas he had been an imposing eight feet to Ventress' five and Vader's six, he had gained nearly a foot in this shedding, and now towered over both of the Sith.
Then came the screech. The helmet's vocal filters managed to shut out the worst of it, but burst open before the lengthy blast of sound was finished, filling the helmet with the acrid smell of overstressed hydraulics.
Now, he thought, my turn.
Unlike his competitor, Vader didn't need to make any physical change. Few forms could have been more imposing, but he had had only a few moments to think of one.
What he came up with was blunt, simple, and typical of the Empire he would come to represent- bigger is better.
Anakin Skywalker would never have been able to do this. Neither would his prior stint as the 'Black Knight of Justice'. Only the monster inside of him had this power, the drive to become the most terrifying image he could think up. Only in Trasshk's mind did anything truly change.
…But change it did. He saw the armored figure in front of him expand, saw Vader's cybernetics, his billowing cape, and the helmet that sucked all feeling and caring out of his face. Suddenly, that cape seemed to blot out the stars, expanding along with its owner to ten feet in the Trandoshan's mind's eye.
Vader's show wasn't over. It was this aura of fear that separated him from the witless lackeys he'd seen running the Republic and Empire. By magnifying it and focusing it onto one person, he could unleash what he felt inside.
To Trasshk, the cape grew bigger and bigger. No stars left, only a black-armored titan over thirty feet tall, and the soulless whisper of his breathing.
He fell back, trying in vain to get away from the sight, to wipe it from his mind. "G-get away… get away from me, you monster!"
Odd words. He'd never spoken them before, only heard them on the lips of his own victims. But now he was finally out of his depth.
Forty feet of invincible black armor. Fifty. Sixty. More all the time, fed by a furnace with no limit. Fear such as he- as no member of his species- had ever felt before.
When the fatal Force choke came and took his life, it came as a relief. No creature could remain sane, after seeing what he had seen beneath that black armor...
-
"You've been a long time away", the wiseman said. His small, withered head returned to his own task. "Many are the stars you travel among."
Behind him, the hologram of Gran Lassau afforded him a slight bow. "I gave you fair warning that yours are not the only interests I serve."
"Yes." Looking sadly out a stone-wrought window and out to the distant sun, Lon, last of the Forgotten, knew that all too well. "We are all here to serve those that matter most to us- ourselves, in most cases."
Lon had spent a great deal of his time wandering the primitive stone hallways of the high castle of Jomark the past few days. What he had been about to attempt before receiving Lassau's return signal was proof positive of that, if anything. Lon had always been meant to be a well-known wiseman even among the Schintians- his species, and one generally considered to be overly analytical. His early-discovered Force-potential, rare as it was among reptilian species, had brought him more of the most valuble treasure according to his people- information and understanding of the galaxy around them.
All that, however, was far in the past. For the very action he was attempting now, his human Master had disowned him, made him leave the Jedi Order forever. Almost a blessing now, he noted silently. If I had stayed, I would likely have been killed with the rest of the Jedi after Palpatine's Order 66. My seclusion has protected me from reprisals, until now…
Now he was the sole survivor of the original plan to usurp Palpatine, and create a ruling council in his place. Instead of one Dark Jedi, the Republic- or Empire, or whatever they called it these days- would have answered to the combined will of five… but the rapid deaths of the other four Forgotten had forced him to greatly expand and revise the plan.
If he wasn't dead certain that Palpatine and his agents weren't coming to kill him anyway, he might still have reneged. The Emperor could damn well keep his domain if it meant Lon could keep his life.
But no. Palpatine is as paranoid as he is ruthless right now, trembling at all those left to oppose him. He would kill me just to simplify the playing field, just as he did my comrades, along with all the Jedi.
Behind his neatly folded wings, Gran Lassau's holographic image gave a slight cough to prompt a response from the older alien. Getting none, he said, "With that said, I personally hope you know what you're doing, betting everything on Darth Vader. Sacrificing Trasshk is not an action to be made casually."
Lon's mind flashed back to the memory of the last conversation he'd had with the other reptile of the Forgotten. That was the last time he would ever see the bigger lizard, in holo or the flesh.
"It is not that much of a sacrifice. He was only meant to keep Palpatine's assassins busy for a time, until I could muster the strength I need. I assume he did so."
Lassau nodded, tilting his hood enthusiastically. "-And then some. I tried stopping him with my Plaeryin Bol venom, but he almost won even with the Sensislug slime dulling his reflexes the whole time. He nearly killed Vader, despite my best efforts to keep him from doing so- Trasshk was truly a strong warrior."
Ever an unconscious gage of his feelings, Lon's leathery wings went stiff at his words. "Quite a handy tool, that eye of yours. Where exactly did you find such an implant?"
Lassau looked at the floor, realizing he'd talked too much on that subject. "…From my people."
Both of his wings lost their rigidness, dropping to either side of Lon's scaly back. "Very well. Return to my castle when you can- I would appreciate having another helper besides my guards when Vader and Ventress get here."
Lassau bowed, deeper this time out of gratitude that Lon had not inquired further about his mysterious people. "As you wish. I only need to hook up with a few of my contacts before departure. I will be back with you soon."
The image faded, leaving Lon alone once again, to grapple with the moral conundrum of his greatest ability. He had been here for two hours now, trying to find the courage and reason for what he must do.
His life. That was what it really all came down to. As much as his Master's Jedi training had taught him not to place too much value on his own life or possessions, he couldn't help but fear for his life. If the choice was divided into two clear paths, he knew that deep inside he would cheerfully wipe out entire solar systems to preserve his own life. That is my greatest flaw as a Jedi and a person- my irrational fear of death. Being secretly ashamed of himself, and knowing that it was his greatest flaw, did nothing to curtail the effect it had on his actions.
So in the end, he had no choice in the matter. Lon took another deep breath and opened up the ability he'd sworn never to use except under the most extreme circumstances.
First, the azure-tinted rock around him opened up, and he found himself in the familiar cosmic nexus of the true Force. Every time he had come here, it eluded any kind of description- simply the luminous truth of what was lying beneath the physical bodies of every living being.
Every living being… except for Gran Lassau and his associates. Exactly how they lived without the Force was a puzzle he would save for another date. Right now, his objective was the biggest swelling of light in the revealed cosmos. This shining, nebulous globe seemed to extend a limitless distance in every direction.
While Lon's master had taught him a great deal about how to harness the Living Force, he preferred to think of this limitless white haven as the Unliving Force. It was the unification of every living creature that had ever died, and become part of the greater Force once again. There were more consciousnesses melded together up there than he could count in a lifetime, and this wasn't counting the ones that had completely surrendered their ego and become one with the beautiful shininglight at the end of their mortal lives.
Lucky thing that the consciousness he was searching for had only died about a month before- if he had waited a few months more, locating it amidst this many would be impossible.
There. He saw it again, floating alongside the freshly slain, almost as if comforting them. She was as Lon had seen her before, when he had come here the last time, and lost his nerve. Distorted, but every bit as beautiful as she had been in life.
It would be a terrible shame to tear her away from this ethereal beauty, to tear her out of the Force and back into the world of the living for his own purposes… but that was what he had come to do.
Sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, after all, and for the good of Wiseman Lon.
-
M: Another long one. At this rate, Chapter 8 going to be even longer, but oh well. I'm also not sure just how easy it is to deduce who it is that Lon is contacting, guess I'll learn when/if I get reviews (hint, hint).