Author's Note:
A few of you may have come across the prequel to this story (No World for Heroes) while most of you may have not. For those who haven't, I decided to add a brief introduction to the plot and the characters, basically because this sequel picks up where the previous story ended. You're also more than welcome to read the first one and if you do have the time for a critique – well, that's a bonus for me and I'd be ecstatic!
Anyway…here's the intro I promised.
CHARACTERS
Revan:
I'm guessing you all know this character. In this KoTOR 2 rendition, it is unknown to the Jedi and the Sith whether Revan serves the Republic or his own selfish ends. He has disappeared beyond the reaches of known space with a level of secrecy even his friends are not privy to.
Elori Mataki:
The Jedi Exile. Having been expelled from the Order, she sought isolation for a time before returning to civilization (as in Knights of the Old Republic 2). Due to feelings of guilt and remorse, she returned to Jedi Temple in Coruscant to ask for forgiveness from the Council. They turned her away, and her paths thereon led her to discover a plot to destroy the Jedi. Together with her friends and brother, they were able to thwart part of the Sith efforts and in doing so, discovered a secret long-hidden by the Jedi. Knowing that this information could easily be turned to evil purposes, Elori chooses secrecy over boldness to ascertain whether this information is true, and leaves her friends to gather more evidence on her own.
Yustan Wes-Tar:
A Jedi Knight loyal to Revan during the Mandalorian Wars. In the prequel, Yustan, together with her companion and good friend, Ben Fria, were not aware that Revan and Malak had turned to the dark side following the Mandalorian Wars. They were also unconscious of the fact that Revan had taken to setting up hidden bases where promising Jedi were captured and then turned to serve the dark side of the Force. Revan used this ignorance to his advantage, and lured the pair to his base on Korriban, where Ben Fria succumbed to his injuries and died. Using Ben's newly-departed spirit to guide her, Yustan escaped the tunnels and traps of the base to her freedom. Her road inevitably led to her meeting Elori Mataki and the pair decided on a plan to unravel Revan's schemes.
On their journey, she formed an unlikely friendship with her former-captor, Atton Rand, which gradually developed into a romantic relationship. Their affair was short-lived, however, due to Yustan's feelings of betrayal towards the Jedi Code and she left Atton to help Elori in her efforts to uncover a Jedi secret.
Atton Rand:
Having served both the Sith and the Jedi, Atton Rand possess a duality even he has yet to comprehend. Following the Mandalorian Wars, Atton makes a profitable living as a smuggler. His profession, although distasteful, is only a façade to conceal the darker nature of his business. In trying to fulfill Revan's goal to turn more Jedi to his cause, Revan's subordinates were very resourceful in their methods of obtaining Jedi. In this instance, some turned to employing individuals to deliver Jedi to rendezvous points where they would then be captured. Knowing full well that the persons to undertake this task needed not only intelligence but the skills to thwart a Jedi's ability to read minds, Revan's captains and generals selected very talented individuals and rewarded them handsomely. Recognizing that he possessed all the traits required for Revan's nefarious purposes, Atton took on the job and did it well.
Using his acumen and intelligence, he deceived Yustan and her companion, Ben, and delivered the pair into the hands of the Sith on Korriban. There, he also discovered that he had a talent for breaking the Jedi, and this did not go unnoticed by the Sith there. His career did not progress much further, however, after Yustan escaped the base. Fearing retribution from the Sith, he fled Korriban and took solace in the superficial comforts of Nar Shadaa. After a period, his guilt and conscience caught up with him. The Force also directed him along the same paths as Elori and Yustan, where his information was used to unravel the Sith plot. Yustan despised his very presence at this time, and was insistent that he be dealt with by the Council instead of having him accompany their party. However, Elori saw this moment as an opportunity for redemption, should Atton seek to choose it and allowed for him a chance to change his ways.
During this journey, he rediscovered parts of himself that he had forgotten he possessed, which enabled him to develop feelings for Elori's companion, Yustan. Although Yustan's feelings were mutual, she soon felt that she could not reciprocate them due to her adherence to the Jedi Code. Feeling betrayed and hopeless, Atton left his newly-found friends to seek a life elsewhere. He was not heard from for a long period.
Javin Kepp:
Elori's younger brother. Following a lead she had obtained before the Mandalorian Wards, and after her rejection from the Council for forgiveness, Elori decided to attempt to find some evidence that indicated that she had a sibling. Her search was successful and it led her to Javin Kepp, a young man adopted by a family on Endor. Passionate and impulsive, Javin was unaware that he was Force sensitive. His meeting with Elori served as an education of sorts; in which he was informed of his natural abilities. Realizing that there was much more potential for him to fulfill, Javin secretly stowed away on Yustan's ship as she and Elori left Endor. After having discovered the stowaway, Elori was furious and demanded that Yustan reverse direction so that they could return the boy to his home. Yustan pointed out that time was something that they couldn't negotiate with, and Elori grudgingly conceded to allow the boy to accompany them on their journey.
The experience forced Javin to mature faster than he would naturally, and during his time of capture by the Sith, his Jedi abilities surged powerfully above the surface. Recognizing that he was very different from most Jedi, and not forgetting her treatment by the Jedi Council, Elori sought to protect her brother from them. But that desire was pushed to the sidelines after she discovered that both she and Javin were entangled in a Jedi conspiracy that ran deeper than she could have imagined. The depth of the plot was not revealed to Javin, although pieces of information were left with his soon-to-be friend and mentor, James Yeo-Lan. Before Elori's departure, Javin made the decision to become a Jedi and chose to be trained at an academy on Dantooine, and Elori reluctantly approved of his wishes.
James Yeo-Lan:
The former Padawan of Jedi Master, Atris. Having arrived towards the end of Elori and her companions' path, James befriended them and together they united to fight the Sith threat. In their battle against the Sith, Elori and James discovered that the Force had somehow allowed for the two of them to communicate telepathically; even to a greater extent than Jedi usually do. However, due to his Master's voiced anger against Elori and her choice to join Revan in the war against the Mandalorians, Elori Mataki's name left a bitter taste in James' mouth. Convinced that it was she who was to blame for her own downfall and some of the other Jedi, James initial dislike towards her was obvious. Their ideals were in complete contrast; his loyalty lay with the Order and hers lay with her friends. It was his relationship with the Order which stopped Elori from gaining information crucial to her and Javin's ties to the Jedi. Following these events, she chose to sever their mental connection, and acted coolly towards James when she learned that he would undertake Javin's training. However, after her sudden departure, she deliberately left her journal in the care of James' Jedi Master, Atris. She recognized that Atris wouldn't fail to give it to James, and he in turn to her brother. Although it is unknown at this time, James believed this to be a gesture of forgiveness.
CHAPTER 1
A long time ago, in a galaxy far away...
It has been two years since the Sith Lord, Darth Malak, fell at the hands of his former master, Revan. The Star Forge, an ancient and powerful weapons plant, which had supplied Malak with an endless stream of fleets to crush the Republic, was brought to an end as well. It seemed time a time for peace, and restoration...but that was not to be.
Despite this crucial victory, a tense quiet settled over the galaxy. And it remained so for a few years. Soon, this silent unease crept its way across the galaxy and not even Revan himself could evade its touch. Unrest stirred within him, and it wasn't long before his concerns were justified. Slowly but steadily, Jedi across the galaxy began to disappear. At first, it gave no serious cause for alarm, but as the number of disappearances began to increase, words and thoughts gave way to action.
However, action against an invisible assailant proved to be more difficult. In this task, the Jedi stood alone, for it was from their own that this enemy had stemmed. Their hunters had all the markings of the Sith, but there remained something elusive and secretive about them that gave them a distinct nature. And a distinct advantage. Their attempts to engage this kind of foe were futile, and they could do very little as many of their brothers and sisters fell silently. It wasn't long before this threat crawled closer towards the Jedi Order and several Jedi Academies across the galaxy. Soon, even the Jedi Temple on Coruscant grew quiet; only a handful of Jedi resided within.
Not long after, Revan recognized that their current tactics and methods of confrontation did nothing to alleviate the situation. Stealth could only be met with stealth. There was information he needed to gather about his enemy before a final confrontation, something that he could use against them. It was then that Revan decided, quite abruptly, that he needed remove himself from the situation entirely. He left quickly, taking with him none of his close companions, save for a seemingly insignificant astromech droid.
His friends remained with the Republic, confused and justifiably hurt. The Order, although doubtful that he had fallen, felt abandoned…and some felt betrayed. His disappearance also fueled talk amongst galactic citizens. Some argued that he had left to find ways to defeat this new foe, and others argued that it was simply cowardice that caused him to flee. But their opinions were irrelevant, and such idle talk did nothing to change the situation.
Circumstances went from bad to worse, and several Jedi across the galaxy were forced to go into hiding. Not long after, more players in this game emerged. The price for the extermination or capture of a Jedi Knight grew steadily, and shortly thereafter, bounties were placed on them – and almost every bounty hunter known and unknown sought to collect.
Rumours of Jedi on several planets came into being. Twisted criminal organizations and corrupted officials devised cunning strategies to bring these Jedi out into the light. More often than not, they were successful. The few remaining Jedi were made to scurry under the holes and cracks of the galaxy to hide themselves. And it was in those places that they anxiously waited, biding their time, hoping for an end to such a nightmare...
The light shone into the barren room as the door opened, and her eyes involuntarily closed. Footsteps could be heard across the floor. Consciously this time, she scurried towards the corner of the room and mumbled incoherently. She tried to cast off a feeling of dizziness, but it clung tightly onto her, pressing down hard on her head. Sleep begged her to consume itself, but deadened as her instincts were, she remained awake and unhappy. Through her half-closed lids she was able to make out the familiar boots that strode towards her. How she hated them – the smell of the musty leather, the caked mud, dirt and who knew what else, that crusted around its heel. She wanted to grab a knife, a sword, a nail... anything, and drive it straight through them.
A few feet away from her, the boots stopped moving. And then, as always, a heavy, cold instrument came up against her forehead, and her eyes flashed immediately in recognition.
"Don't have to restate myself, do I?" came the voice.
She shook her head, no.
The instrument moved down slowly, towards her neck.
"Do you want to die yet?" it spoke again.
No.
"Then you know the drill." In the next instant, the voice turned away from her and called out to someone.
She pressed herself up against the dank wall, her hands and feet going cold again. Try as she might, now – for anger could often give her strength – she could not feel hatred for her captor. She often tried to imagine his death in a variety of scenarios, but of late, it had brought her less satisfaction. What she despised, though, were those wretched boots. Their arrival rang the bells of the commencement of pain. And what often followed them were disturbing periods of nightmare-filled sleep and immeasurable amounts of time to either relive or suppress the recent past.
She wanted to rip those damned boots to shreds.
The light in the doorway was now blocked by another figure. She held her breath, her mind suddenly more alert. This second person entered the room, speaking. And as the voice carried over to her ears, the blood began to pound inside her heart, the effects of which rippled quickly towards her brain. Her breathing resumed, not quite normal, but her muscles were tensed. She did not attempt to make out what he was saying. Indeed, that often proved useless and was even destructive to her sanity. But like the ferret who knew danger was near yet couldn't spot it, she could do nothing but freeze, listening to the sound of her own predator.
Ah, now that voice was something she could detest.
It had been what she considered to be a long time since it had come near her. It was soft, calm and given another time and place, it was almost tender. But not to her. Pain was associated with it, and nothing save for a miracle would give her reason to respond to it without fear.
In between her hatred and dread, she caught words – obscenities, directions, references to random things or places – all revolving around her. She found herself pulled to her feet soon after, and she stood in one place unsteadily, her knees trembling in dreadful anticipation. She hit the wall hard, and imagined that she could feel her brain rattling within her skull. The real blow, however, reached her senses seconds later, and her shoulder began to throb in protest. But there wasn't much time to wallow in the pain, because new areas of her body began to receive each hit in succession, causing her system to mechanically switch over to numbness. And numbness could only give way to sleep, and that – as she now knew – would be a grand thing.
ONE YEAR AGO...
Dagobah
Elori Mataki made her way down the hill too slowly for her liking, but nothing in her life was to her liking anyway...so why disrupt its flow?
Her boot sank with a wet squelch into the mud, and with a look of distaste, she pulled it out quickly. She looked up at the mangrove trees around her and paused, listening. The ground grew more moist as she had pressed forward, which was indicative of a swamp in the vicinity. This was not altogether ominous on its own, but it could prove potentially dangerous should any of the swamp's hungry or unfriendly inhabitants come crawling along. Reluctantly, she turned around and began to move up the slippery hill back onto more solid, and drier, ground.
No sooner had she done this, however, when a swift movement above her caught her attention, and without warning, swung forward, hitting her square on the face. She fell backwards onto her elbows with a cry, and struggled to her feet again. An instant later, she felt the air behind her move and stepped aside quickly, grabbing whatever it was that had confronted her in a vice-like grip.
The creature squealed and struggled in protest, and despite the incoherent shouts – which alarmed her greatly – she was able to make out just what she had locked in her arms.
In her surprise, she had nearly dropped the creature, but a moment before she could do so, it hit her across the head again with a resounding thwack.
"No! No!" shouted the small being.
Elori shoved it away from her amidst the yells, and screamed loudly to be heard. "It's me, Yura! It's me!"
Another shot found its way to her head.
"Hurt me, you will not!" it cried.
"But it's you who's hurting me!" moaned Elori, as she moved away.
Finally, thankfully, it stopped the battering. Snorting at Elori contemptuously, it spoke. "Serves you right. If protect yourself better, you cannot, then it serves you right."
"But I didn't want to hurt you!"
"Pfeh. Grabbed my neck like a swamp-croc with lock-jaw, you did." she scowled as she rubbed the area near her collar-bone tenderly. And then she grinned mischievously, "But too quick for you, I was!" Yura moved swiftly towards Elori and gave her another whack, before moving away, sniggering.
"Would you stop that, please?" said an annoyed Elori. "I didn't come here to be greeted by you and that infuriating pan!"
"If not come to see me, you have, then what business do you have on Dagobah?"
Elori shook her head, frustrated. "Well, of course I came to see you... But what I meant was that this was not quite the reunion I imagined."
"Forgive me, I hope you will, for not tidying up the planet before your arrival."
"Alright. Alright." Elori stood up and looked down at her friend, frowning. "I never know why I start an argument with you anyway. It always dissolves into nothing."
Yura scowled in response. "As should most arguments. For develop into wars, they can."
It was uncanny, hearing both wisdom and nonsense emerge from this being. And it was this unlikely personality that she had come to miss greatly. Allowing for a smile to finally settle on her face, Elori spoke, "Now what, Yura? You going to boil me and serve me as the first course for dinner?"
Yura's eyes narrowed, as if studying Elori from a different perspective. And then her face relaxed, and her usual demeanor returned. "I could. But too much meat has gone from your bones. Taste like dried wood, you would."
Her taste buds suddenly recovered a not-so-fond memory as the broth made its way across her mouth and down her gullet. But it was food, and sustenance, but more importantly, it had been prepared by Yura herself. To refuse would prove unacceptable. A little reluctantly, she moved her arm to a side to make way for a second helping of swamp bat stew. Her stomach rumbled in protest, and she decided to give it a few minutes before unleashing the enemy on it once more.
"Weaker, is your appearance." commented the gnome-like creature as she settled back into her chair.
"I have no doubt your stew will toughen me up," chuckled Elori.
Yura did not smile back. "But stronger, have you grown, in the Force."
Elori raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Ah. Yes. Well, a lot of things have happened since I left."
A spell of silence came over the pair, and after a short while, Elori could not take it much longer. "Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"
"Care to know that, I do not."
"Why ever not? A lot of things have happened in the last few years...with Revan, the Jedi –"
"Seen enough, I have, of that world out there. Changed it may be, to you. But if step back, you can...then a bigger picture you will see. And this bigger picture is made up of the same pattern."
Elori leaned back in her seat and sighed. She couldn't help but feel small and insignificant in comparison to her companion. Yura had seen a great deal of life, and even though she did not flaunt her wisdom, it emerged from her so naturally that it could not be dismissed so easily.
Elori looked around the small, but solid, mud hut and took in its character slowly. It was plain, simple, rugged, but it exuded a warm quality. Undoubtedly, the tiny home had received its share of bruises from an unkind weather system, and the patched cracks and stains on its walls and windows both on the outside and the inside were evidence of this. Nevertheless, there was warmth that stubbornly refused to be displaced, and it was this warmth that always drew her back. Always.
And here she was again, despite the task that lay before her. She wished that she could find a reason for her to remain here, like she had, a few years ago. But it was not to be, she told herself, and she had to press on, for Javin's sake.
At the thought of Javin, her eyes lit up and she spoke.
"Did I ever tell you that I found my brother?"
"No. Much like you, is he?" Yura didn't bat an eye.
Elori looked a little disappointed and resigned herself to the fact that the old gnome could never be surprised. "I don't know, really. It's other people who should be the judge of that."
Yura wiggled her eyebrows curiously. "Perhaps know yourself enough, you do not...to be able to compare yourself to your brother!"
"Well," she said frowning, "...I suppose I know myself better than I did before. And it's either that or I'm deluding myself, don't you think?" laughed Elori.
Yura relented, letting out a small chortle. "So why come here, have you?"
Elori shrugged. "One last look around, maybe. To reinforce certain memories."
"...before what?"
"Before I trot off again. On a jaunt. Or a merry escapade or whatever you'd like to call it."
"Treat such dark matters lightly, you do."
Elori scowled. "You'd be joking if you were me, you know. Denial is a perfectly normal human emotion."
"Ah. But I am not human."
"You could've fooled me."
The pair laughed.
"Condone your response, I do. Laughter, even in the darkest of situations, can bring light. But fail to see, do I, your return to this place – my home – when you have your work to finish."
"It's like I said. I needed to see this place, and you, one more time. Before I left for Coruscant that day...you said we might see each other again. And I wanted that to come true."
In the next instant, Yura's eyes turned somber. "You believe that when you leave this time, see each other again, we will not."
Elori's silence was her answer.
"Argue with that, I will not. But there remains one more thing...something else to fulfill, you need."
"If that's the case," she paused, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table, "I have no idea what it is. You'll need to enlighten me."
Yura's ears pricked up and recognized her friend's admission as the truth, and felt sad that that was the case. "Have a new demon to face, you do. And very afraid, are you. So afraid that admit it to yourself, you cannot. War of the physical kind teaches you only a fraction of the battles of the heart...from where all wars stem. If confront, you can, these villains inside you, then truly powerful will you become."
"I don't want to be powerful."
"I speak not of that kind of power, ignoramus," scolded Yura. "I mean, the power of a satisfied mind. So simple a thing, it is, but so strong!"
Elori remained quiet for a few moments, and then looked her friend in the eyes. "Is that what you have? Is that why you're...?" She couldn't quite bring herself to say it.
"Content? Happy? Why speak these words, you cannot? Yes. Old Yura feels content. She feels very happy. If displace me, you can, from my home – even then will I have my peace."
"What price have you paid for it?" whispered Elori.
"Price depends on you. Perhaps I have been stubborn, and because of that, a bigger price to pay, did I. But what I paid will be different from what you pay."
"And that's why I've come here, isn't it..." realized Elori.
Yura nodded slowly. She hobbled off her stool and made her way towards Elori. She scowled and stabbed her finger heavily into Elori's shoulder as she spoke. "Come to collect my final gift to you. All that I have learnt and endured, you will soon come to know. But learning it, a long time, will that take."
"But I don't have much time," she said, both nervous and eager.
"That is not what I mean," said Yura shaking her head. "But you will understand soon enough. Speak no more words tonight, should we. Clear your mind of clutter, you should. It is now time for sleep."
THE PRESENT...
A steady throbbing near her heart brought her towards wakefulness, if wakefulness was the correct word for it. She groaned and straightened out where she lay, feeling several muscles, and who knew what else, complain along with her. Her side still ached, and she found her mind wandering to other areas of thought, in an attempt at distraction.
Was that all real? Everything that happened before...on Dagobah? And even on Coruscant – at the Jedi Temple – there was this Sith who was taunting her. No, that wasn't right. He was telling her something. About someone? And then James, Javin and Yustan came...and they all went to see a woman in white. Everything about her was white. Her home, her planet, her funny little friends. Where was Atton in all this mess? She couldn't quite remember seeing him with them, and she was certain that she would remember because he wouldn't pass up the chance to poke fun at that freezing ice pot. Or maybe he was, she thought. Yes, of course he was, she had only forgotten. They were all there now, gathered together waiting for her to come back. And she was returning to them now. In fact, here she was, on board a freighter...traveling back to them.
A large sound chugged to life, startling her.
She'd heard it before, and as one thought associated with another, she remembered what it was. Some kind of age-old generator.
She opened her eyes wide. This wasn't a freighter. No, she consoled herself, of course it is – just go back to sleep. I'm not sleeping. I'm awake. And I know – just as I've always known – that this is real. This is happening.
This is happening.
And so began the process of her realization. It was no longer new, as it had grown into a pattern that rarely digressed from its path. But just as it had happened each time, she had always imagined her reality to be fictitious and not the other way around before coming to her senses. It took a while for recognition to sink in, and when it finally did, she would always promise herself that the next time there would be no more delusions. No more imaginings of a bizarre alternate, happier, reality.
She groggily pushed herself up into a sitting position. She froze as she felt her body complain, and in the next moment, felt her stomach heave, and she retched all over herself. A few minutes later, after nothing save for the bitter taste of bile came out, she leaned her head back and groaned.
She felt like a one-woman freak show.
What an idiot, she thought, what a blinding, bumbling fool I was. To stumble into such a trap and not see through it! No matter now, no matter. She could recollect those fond memories once she got out.
And sooner seemed much better than later.
THREE MONTHS AGO...
To wander the galaxy, even as an exiled Jedi, should have been done carefully, and with secrecy. The bounty on a Jedi's head was growing higher by the day. She would become a wanted woman should anyone unravel who she truly was. And she believed that she was moving about as stealthily as she could for someone who was conducting her own investigations. In many places, people resorted to tormenting the down-trodden and the weak, hoping that a Jedi would happen along to relieve them of their woes. She was well aware of this, and kept herself away from the worries and needs of others, bringing as little attention to herself as she could.
But she had to press forward with her task, and this obviously required interaction with others. In one of her dealings, she had heard words...and references to a Sith who had been leading groups of soldiers – Sith soldiers – to hunt down the remaining Jedi. Altogether, this was neither far from the obvious nor the overstated possibility of the truth. But as the conversation deepened, she learned more about this Sith, his broken body – a corpse – yet not dead. Still cautious, she attributed such descriptions to be that of an overactive imagination. And then, a few days later, she had learned that he once had a teacher – as all Jedi and Sith do – who had been stripped of something, and cast down. She too, was rumoured to be alive, but in hiding.
And that was the clincher.
She pursued this trail of information diligently, eventually tracking it down to a small, isolated, farm on Corellia. There, she had met a family, who had been grieving for their lost son. The boy was no more than four, and was Force sensitive. His parents were completely unaware of it until a Jedi had come calling, requesting that he be given up for proper training. The boy's father had run the Jedi off, insulted and hurt. Life returned to normal, but a few weeks later, their son went to school and was never seen again.
Upon questioning the parents, they divulged that the Jedi was accompanied by some sort of old maidservant, who only played a silent and barely noticeable role in that short span of time. Elori was excited now, recognizing that this might indeed be the woman who Atris so fearfully spoke of. As for the Jedi with her, he could have been just about anyone, except for what he claimed to be. What with the Order in ruins and the Jedi scattered, journeys to distant locations searching for future Padawans seemed too unrealistic.
Out of a sense of obligation or perhaps curiousity, Elori had decided to remain with this broken family on Corellia for a few weeks. She had traveled to neighbouring farms and towns, asking discreetly about the disappearance of the young boy. A lot of the people there merely shook their heads in the sadness of it all, and admitted to having seen or heard nothing. Even the authorities at his school had seen nothing out of the ordinary. The boy's details were often aired on communication networks around that rural part of Corellia, and inevitable rumours began to stir about his disappearance.
Some believed him to be the victim of pith hounds, but that was most unlikely. Pith hounds were extremely distant – evolutionary and geologically – relatives of the more vicious kath hounds. They were much smaller in stature, and despite being omnivorous – they preferred ravaging turnip beds to devouring people. Others believed him to be the victim of a cult-like order that resided near the hillside. Elori traveled to meet these so-called shady inhabitants and found them to be nothing more than simple people. They attributed their reasons of being to a cosmic and benign deity known as the rain goddess. They relied solely on their own produce and generation of energy to make their way in the world, and violence, war and battle was definitely frowned upon by the rain goddess. But it was not this that had convinced her that they had played no part in the boy's disappearance. It was when they had offered to channel her spirit to dance with theirs in the clouds above – for only a brief spell – before they would rain down into themselves again, that she had smiled politely and said her goodbyes.
The boy's parents, carefully observing her efforts to aid them, had then made the friendly overture for her to stay with them, and she accepted gratefully. She had no misgivings, because despite the unlikely hospitality, they were not extremely worldly. She could not fathom either person turning her over for a large sum of credits. But wisely, she chose not to reveal who she was. To do so would only add insult to injury.
Her time there, although restful, was sad. Many nights, she would be awakened by the cries of the boy's mother, and the softer sobs of her husband. She had heard such sounds before, during the wars, and to hear them again unearthed memories that needed to remain buried. During the day, she did what she could to console them – more in actions than words. She helped the father plough acres of his land, fix broken machinery. With the mother, she played the role of listener, taking in a mass of convoluted and painful emotions that came with the loss of her son.
As days grew into weeks, a kind of complacency had settled upon husband and wife, and they came to use Elori as a crutch to overcome their hurt. It was then that things spiraled out of control, and it was then when she should have been alert.
Somehow, through some means or another, she had been found out. Elori had been pulling out stinkweed in the carrot beds by hand, and it had taken her a large portion of the day to do so. When she returned back to the house, something was amiss. And she didn't need the Force to tell her either. The fire near the hearth had died, and the room was terribly cold. All the gas lamps had been extinguished and what food remained on the table was half-eaten and in disarray. Panic surged in her chest and she immediately thought that someone had returned to deal with the boy's parents. Judging by the current layout of the house, they could be miles away by now. She had run to the room she slept in, rummaging under the mattress for her lightsaber. She fumbled for it in vain, however, and soon she recognized that it was just as missing as her hosts were.
The next few minutes ran together in disarray – she couldn't quite remember in which order events proceeded. Masses of men (or so it seemed), decked to the hilt with armour and a range of weapons, swarmed in from every opening of the house. She fought off as many as she could, but there was only so much an unarmed individual could do against a barrage of assaults. Within minutes, she had been overpowered and restrained; her hands, and legs, bound together like a feral animal's.
From there, she was moved around – almost on a daily basis – from one location to another. Security around her was tight; she was kept in comfortable conditions, but within a large force cage at all times. Her guards always eyed her warily, as if she could cast a spell on them should they weaken themselves enough. But what was worse, what she found so difficult to come to terms with, was the inexplicable nature of it all. What had happened to the man and woman she had come to be fond of? Were they even alive? She'd raised the matter with her captors, who she now suspected to be some form of governmental authority, but they offered her no answers. In fact, the looks of hatred they shot her way whenever she raised that particular question was indicative of their belief that she was responsible for whatever had happened to them. And that, they didn't like one bit.
After countless days of trying to squeeze information out of anyone, she received news that she would be taken to the capital soon. And there, she would have to bide her time in yet another cell, awaiting a date for her trial. Miserable and disheartened, she realized that she had indeed been fingered as a possible perpetrator in this crime. Which would mean that...that her friends were either missing, or worse.
Very soon, news of her capture and arrest spread across the planet like wildfire. Although she was quite unaware of it, people's tongues began wagging about the Jedi who infiltrated a broken home, only to cause more hurt to those who welcomed her. Security about her grew tighter and she was allowed even less freedom than usual, if that was even possible. But despite such security, somewhere along the way, a mind was corrupted and tempted by wealth. Realizing just what it was they had in their grasp, events were orchestrated and planned intricately for her second capture.
But this time around, she would fall into the hands of someone far worse.
THE PRESENT...
"Up, up," came the voice.
She blinked to overcome a brief spell of dizziness as she rose to her feet. A fluorescent lamp flickered above her and the room was bathed in light. She looked down at her bare feet – the only part of her body that didn't hurt.
"Out."
He shoved her roughly with familiar metallic rod, and she moved forward unsteadily.
"Oh for bloody sake...we haven't got all day!"
He pushed her again, and she moved quicker this time and into the hallway. She found herself looking at a long stretch of the passageway before her, penetrated by several smaller corridors and various intersections. Even had she been conscious when they had brought her here, it would require more than a few minutes to memorize the layout of this damned maze.
"'Kay down there?" a voice called out from somewhere.
"Fine. But hurry it up, we ain't got all day. Come evening, and they'll be back to check on her."
Alert, she turned her head a fraction of an inch to her captor behind her, working out this new development.
Check on her? Hurry what up? What the bloody heck did they mean?
The second man came into view, and he stood a few yards in front of her, observing. His small frame sported a jacket five sizes too big, and he had holsters at his hips – empty now. He wore a red visor that hid his eyes from view, but any fool could tell that it was her that he was studying.
"Bit scrawny for a Jedi, huh?" his voice crawled out. "And tall too. Taller than me. I don't like 'em tall."
Something in the way he said it made her blood boil and her skin grow cold. If this shrimp didn't like 'em tall, then maybe she'd cut off his legs for him and replace them with long blunt vibroblades. A raspy cough on her part reminded her of her current physical handicap, and she restrained her anger.
"You says you wanted some sport. If you were willing to pay one thousand creds for her, you sure as hell ain't gonna back out now. Are you?" snorted the first man behind her.
"Naw. You're right. Let's start."
"Hold up, buddy boy. There's some rules we got here before you get the show started. One, you only use one trank dart out of that there pistol, you got that? If you use two, if you use three, she's gonna be knocked out for hours. And that's just too long. Two, no stabbing. Now I know you says I confiscated all of your weapons at the door, but I know you're lying. You got a knife there somewhere. If you use it, the jig is up and I'm gonna have to keep you here – pin it all on you."
The smaller man twisted around and pulled out a short pistol, smiling. "Gotcha chief. Anything else?"
"Nope." He raised in index finger in the air, "But I got some words for our little friend here." He turned her around to face him, keeping her at a safe distance with his long weapon. "Sweetheart, we're gonna play something new today. See, my buddy here, he loves to have himself a good hunt. An' this place is 'bout as good as it gets for you two to run around in. So you play nice now, go run an' hide. He'll count to ten. An' when he reaches that lovely round number, he's gonna come get ya. And you'd better be quick."
She stared back at him, her face expressionless.
"What's the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue? Or could it be you're upset 'bout this?"
With his instrument, he reached down towards the bottom of her thin shirt and pulled it up slightly, revealing her stomach. She slowly followed his gaze and stared, incomprehensive, at the markings engraved on it. The red lines traced across her belly, having been carved there before by something sharp. They were new, but not fresh, and she had not noticed anything of the sort before on her body. Slowly but surely, the letters came to make sense to her. The obscenity gushed straight to her head and set waves of anger pulsing around her body. This was it. This was the place where she could no longer comply, nor listen.
The words...scorched into her body like a cattle brand.
This was the final indignity.
When she looked up at him the second time, she gazed deep into his eyes, and unbeknownst to him, she made a silent promise.
I am going to get out of here alive.
TEN MONTHS AGO...
Dagobah
"Faster! Faster!" chortled the voice behind her as she ran.
Elori wanted to answer, to say anything, but her heavy gasps would not permit her to get a word in edgeways. She saw the vine up ahead of her, and the ravine that separated her from the next chunk of solid ground. She groaned inwardly. That damned vine was too high, the chasm too wide, and this being clinging to her back, too heavy.
A wooden spoon emerged from the corner of her vision, and she braced herself for its impact upon her already sore head.
"Think that way, you will not!" Yura tightened her grip around the young woman's shoulders. "Do not slacken! Keep running...get ready and jump! Juuump!"
Gasping for a lungful of air before her feet left the ground, Elori said a silent prayer to no one in particular, and stretched out hard with every muscle in her body, from her toes to her fingertips. As soon her hands touched the natural rope, they clasped it tightly, and she let out a puff of relief. Her sweaty palms caused her to slip down the vine a few inches, but she already had the angular momentum she needed and within seconds, her feet slammed onto the ground on the other side. She stopped running and found herself grinning, bending over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.
Thwack!
"To stop, I did not tell you," scolded Yura, "if keep going you do not, then have to hit you again, I will!"
"I...don't care..." panted Elori. "...been running and climbing for seven hours –"
" – five!" corrected Yura.
"Who cares? In...all my life...I have never received...this kind of training..."
"Then, taught you well, the Jedi did not. If you are your own master, then give up, you can. But these days...I am your teacher. Every part of your body, and your mind – is mine to guide. And I am not ready to stop running."
"...we have miles more ground to cover," protested Elori weakly, already knowing that Yura would win.
"Then the quicker you start, the quicker we finish."
Elori closed her eyes, focusing on nothing for several seconds. When she opened them, a renewed strength flooded her muscles and she took off once more, with Yura clinging on tightly to her bumpy ride.
The pair soon came to an embankment, a steep slope that was almost completely enveloped in mist. There were no mangroves here, for indeed, the swamps lay far below them. Here loomed great willow trees, whose roots ran wide and deep, and what appeared to hold this large embankment together. Elori studied them carefully, gazing at the thick roots that protruded from the ground. Getting about here wasn't going to be easy and simultaneously running across it wouldn't help either, but it was doable. Definitely doable.
"Glad to hear you think this way, I am." spoke Yura.
"I'm glad to hear you're glad, Yura."
The smaller creature gave Elori's shoulder a slight squeeze, causing her to pause. "But overconfidence can lead to failure. Not a failing of your capabilities, but a failing of your ability to understand something for what it truly is. Very ugly, reality can be."
"But these are just a bunch of big roots on a slope. Apart from quick reflexes and a decent sense of balance, I don't see what else we need."
"Wet, are these slopes. Look," Yura pointed upwards with a knobby finger, towards the light of the moon, and then down towards a puddle of water in which the moonlight was reflected. "Very cautious will you have to be."
Sweat drenched her body and every muscle longed for rest and warmth. Her stomach growled, it wouldn't even mind three helpings of swamp bat stew tonight. Elori grew impatient. "If I slip, I'll just grab a root, okay?"
"Cover something else, this embankment does."
Elori turned her head to one side. She didn't like the sound of this.
"Tainted, this side of Dagobah has become. Some caves here contain poisonous snakes. And others contain poisonous thoughts that seep outwards. Prefer the former, do I. But here we do not have a choice."
Elori swallowed. "Maybe I'll um...need my lightsaber for this."
"Need that, you do not."
It's not like we have much of a choice, realized Elori. They'd left all forms of weapons, save for Yura's crude wooden spoon, behind. They could either turn around, and face that six-hour trek back, or press on.
"What would you have me do?" asked Elori quietly.
"You should go forward."
"You place too much trust in me. I don't know what'll happen. I don't know what I'll do."
"You will do exactly what I have taught you. Let us keep moving."
THE PRESENT...
She stumbled forward in the dim light, keeping her left hand up against the wall to her left, and followed it. She used this simple but effective technique in the hope that it would get her towards some kind of exit. Of course, chances were that the exit would be locked and secured, but one never knew. Turning around for a brief second, she heard the clinking of boots against metal – and the sound was getting louder. She quickened her pace, wondering silently to herself if she was only delaying the inevitable.
There had to be something else, some other way to get out.
She looked around her as she walked, studying everything she could. There was no source of light apart from that above her. There were no windows. She repeated the words silently to herself. No windows. This place was either a warehouse or she was in some kind of underground compound. If so, it was obviously old – that generator she had heard before was gas powered.
She paused again, trying to listen for her pursuer. The now familiar sound of his boots came just as they had before. Good, she decided, at least I know where you are, you little scumbag.
She lifted her gaze upwards and to her surprise saw two large pipes trailing their way across the ceiling. One would be water, and the other...gas? Of course! How foolish of her! That damned generator needed a constant supply of gas to keep this basement powered. Her mind worked quickly as she kept moving. Now, this gasoline, would it be used in the form of compressed air or liquid? For the few companies that still produced it, they made the compressed air form with a clearly recognizable odor – purely for safety reasons. But the liquid form was far older, and did not have that distinct smell. But which form was running through those pipes?
Only one way to find out.
She leapt up, trying to grab either pipe like a wide pole. After five attempts, she was successful, and somewhat awkwardly, she managed to straddle the damn thing upside down. She paused for several moments, exhaustion soon catching up with her. She was also more than a little afraid now. Should that nasty little fellow come crawling along, she would be in an extremely vulnerable position.
She struggled, gripping the pipe tightly, tugging it in a downwards direction with her body. She heard the groaning of metal, perhaps she was loosening the clamps that held it in place. With more hope and a greater sense of urgency, she pulled harder. Suddenly, something creaked around her and she came crashing to the floor. She landed with a thud onto her back, and when she looked up, she saw a spray of liquid flowing out and away from her.
She quickly crawled forward on her hands and knees, praying for the liquid to be what she wanted it to be. Tentatively she touched it with the tip of her finger and brought it up to her mouth. On tasting it, her face scrunched up in distaste and she broke out into a large smile.
Hot damn.
But her activity hadn't gone unnoticed.
"What the..." spoke a voice softly from behind her.
She spun around, and without giving herself much room to think, she charged the man, bringing him crashing to the ground.
She fell down on top of him, and punched him squarely on the jaw. She smiled, quite pleased with herself. But the next instant revealed that he had only received a mild blow, apparently her punches did not have as much oomph as they once did. Frustrated and determined not to go back to that hellhole of a room, she punched him again.
But he had recovered himself well enough to shove a sharp, bony, knee into her stomach. Simultaneously, he threw her off him and rolled her onto the ground.
This shrimp isn't a pushover, is he? she thought.
He brought a hand to her throat and squeezed, saying something that she refused to hear. She felt her eyes bulge and let out a garble, trying feebly to push him away with her hands. No good...he only squeezed harder. And then she did the only thing she could think of doing. With a concerted effort, she jerked herself up and hit his head with her own. She didn't know how hard that got him, but whatever it did, his hands were off her throat. When she looked at him, she found that he had reeled backwards, and was blinking stupidly, trying to bring himself around.
Scowling, she threw him a shot with her elbow that struck him on the chin.
Finally, thankfully, he was knocked out senseless on the floor. She looked at him, rubbing her throat gently as she spoke.
"That's what I call using your head. You should try it sometime."
She bent down next to him, searching his person for the weapon earlier. Tucked into his belt, she found his pistol. She grabbed it, and paused. What was it before that jerk number one was saying about stabbing? Something about a knife? She narrowed her eyes and patted down the unconscious individual, avoiding no bodily crevice. To her relief, she found it soon – a small but sharp dagger.
She stood up and was about to walk away from the prostrate form when something occurred to her. She looked down at her clothes. A ragged shirt and a pair of shorts that did not deserve its name. She looked back at the man. He was a little smaller than her, sure, but that shirt looked like it might fit. So would the pants, even if they didn't reach her ankles. In any case, she couldn't wander about half naked, now could she?
He made his way down the stairs with a bounce in his walk and a merry little tune in his mind. He slid the access card into its security slot and watched as the light glowed a permissive green. The door slid open and he pulled out his portable map. This damned place was a maze. He'd been working here for over three weeks now, and he still couldn't master its layout. He walked forward, and took several turns along the way, all the while looking at his map.
But when his boots made an audible splashing sound, he was forced to look away from his map screen. There was liquid all over the place.
What the hell was going on?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, but when he whirled around, it was gone. He called out to his friend half-jokingly. Fun was over, he said, time to go home now.
No answer.
He moved forward slowly, looking back and forth frequently from his map and in front of him. The exit. He needed to make his way towards the exit.
As he neared the second to last intersection before the exit, he saw a prostrate figure lying a few yards away to his right. His heart leapt to his throat. Was that the woman? In this dim lighting, he couldn't tell for sure, but that was what she had been wearing. That guy – his friend – he wasn't what he pretended to be, was he?
Oh god, am I gonna get it good for this, he thought, very worried.
He broke into a slow jog, indifferent to any noise he caused now. He had to make it out, and soon.
Soon, he looked up and saw the exit – and something else. The door was closed, but in front of it...there she stood. She looked different. It took him several seconds to figure out that she was not wearing her own clothes anymore. She now had on...what his friend had on. And that could only mean that...
"He's out cold, by the way." She spoke. Her tone was icy.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she did.
"Give me your access card."
His confidence – long overdue – now came flooding back. "Sweetheart, I don't think you're in a position to make them kind of demands."
A slow smile spread across her face, and she pulled out something small, about half the length of her index finger. "Your friend likes death sticks. He apparently lights 'em up like a fireworks festival on Coruscant."
He frowned, cockiness waning slightly. "So? So what?"
"You like firework festivals?"
The cow had gone man, he decided. What the hell was she going on about?
"Since the limits of your brain do not allow for you to evaluate your current – and might I mention, dire – situation, let me illuminate things for you. So to speak." She chuckled to herself. "You're surrounded in what old miners would refer to as grade H gasoline. Highly unstable, extremely flammable fuel. I have, on my person, a catalyst that can set it all in motion."
The man's mouth parted, but no words came out.
"Yeah," she nodded slowly, "I'd be little worried if I were you too. Now give me that damned access card."
"You'll kill us both!" he yelled, finally able to find words.
"I'm capable of that, yes. But lucky for you, I'm quite rational when I need to be. See, I want to get out of here alive. And so do you. So we reach a mutual agreement. That's called a compromise, by the way. You give me that card and I won't set you on fire. What do you say?"
He nodded quickly and threw the card towards her. She caught it with her free hand. She smiled back at him as she clasped the card. "I knew that somewhere deep inside of that twisted little brain of yours lay a reasonable man,"
She turned around and slid the card through. As the door slid open, she felt the back of her skin crawl and turned around involuntarily. He stood where he was, but he held up a pistol and aimed it straight at her.
"You ain't going nowhere!"
She didn't have much time to react, really. The shot whizzed towards her and hit the wall to her right, missing her ear by only a few inches. Instinctively, she flicked the lighter on and flung it as hard as she could towards the man. With a deep foomph, the area around him ignited into flames. Within seconds the fire spread outwards, following its fuel to wherever it lay.
She stood still, staring at the whole event, watching him – moving about like a flaming demon.
The heat surged in her face, jolting her back to reality. Quickly, she slammed the door shut and flew up the stairs.