EIGHTEEN
"One of these days," Atton announced, "the secret evil artifact that we're looking for is going to be at a nice inn on Coruscant. Just think, no one would look for it there! They'll be spending all of their time tromping around barren wastelands while we have a nice dinner and pick up the artifact in the morning. It's the perfect plan."
Dustil shoved his hair, stiff with frozen sweat, off of his face and kept walking. The icy landscape of Telos' polar regions stretched unrelentingly away from them toward the shadows of distant mountains. "Do you ever shut up?" he asked the ghost.
Pellek might have actually cracked a smile from the depths of her cloak. "He doesn't," she replied. "I think it's a Force power. What do you think, Atton? Force Chatter?"
Atton retorted, and Dustil tuned out the pair's banter. Pellek had been nearly uncommunicative since leaving Vintar, so he was glad to hear anything approaching good spirits coming from her. He knew they could both feel the pulsing malevolence from the silo a kilometer ahead of them, but they hadn't spoken of it aloud. Dustil was still grappling with the knowledge that his home planet was tainted by the Dark, was somehow part of a circuit of Dark places that fed these new Sith. To think that he and Case had been in the Unknown Regions for five years while this. . . disease festered in his home was almost too much to bear.
Pellek's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, cool it with the anger/grief/guilt, would you?"
Dustil glared at her and tugged on the Force connection between them. "I thought you said you blocked this thing," he said accusingly.
She tugged back harder than necessary. "I did, you ungrateful brat. You might remember that you'd be a Jedi corpse a couple of times over if we hadn't created this connection on Espol. And I seem to recall warning you that I don't know how to break them." She let the connection go slack. "But I don't need a Force connection to feel that baggage you're tossing around in your head. And if I can feel it, you'd better believe any Sith can feel it, too."
Pellek was right—indulging his emotions now was asking for trouble. He deliberately packed his anger away and concentrated on feeling the Force flow around them. Other than the hazy taint ahead of them, the Force flowing through the newly reborn planet was clean, and he let it clear his head.
"Speaking of Force connections," Atton said, "how'd Revan manage to rope you into a Force Bond with her, anyway? From what I've heard, five years of padawan training isn't enough to create a bond between master and student. And I can't imagine the Admiral was keen on the prospect of his boy and his girlfriend being Bonded."
Dustil shook his head. "It's a long story, but Case," he emphasized her name, "didn't force me into a Bond. I created it accidentally before we left for the Unknown Regions."
"You?" Atton scoffed. "That's not something baby Jedi know how to do."
Dustil didn't feel like explaining the circumstances of the power he took from the pool on Korriban on his first mission with Case. He glanced at Pellek, expecting to see similar disbelief on her face, but she just nodded and looked thoughtful.
Atton mimed nudging him in the ribs. "So, is Revan as. . .formidable. . .as she's rumored to be?"
Dustil deliberately ignored the innuendo. "She's not some kind of god, if that's what you mean. She's just a human—a human who can kick your ass with a blade in her sleep, mind you, but a human, nonetheless. She has the same weaknesses as anyone else, for all that she's the strongest Force user I've ever met."
"You're stronger," Pellek said abruptly.
"What?" Dustil and Atton exclaimed simultaneously.
Pellek shrugged. "I've had Force connections with you both, and you're stronger in the Force than she is. You're not as experienced, of course, but that comes with time." She grinned darkly. "If you were Sith, you would have killed her by now and taken her place as Sith Lord."
Atton snorted. "I think you'd better change your name if you go Dark, kid. Darth Dustil doesn't exactly have a menacing ring to it."
Before Dustil could respond, the Darkness in the Force ahead of them shifted, like the bottom dropping out of a barometer. Atton stumbled and went nearly transparent.
"Atton!" Pellek exclaimed, reaching out a hand fruitlessly to help him.
Atton caught himself and raised an unsteady hand to his head. "Sorry, babe, but I think Big Bad just arrived. I can't manage to hold this—" he faded to nearly nothing. "Don't do anything stupid, okay?" he asked, forcing an obviously false grin. "I prefer you corporeal." He disappeared from view.
Dustil lit his lightsaber. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked Pellek.
She took a breath. "Yes," she said shortly. "Let's finish this."
Dustil Boosted them both close to the silo. Pellek pulled her blade and started to close the distance, but Dustil held her arm. She glanced at him irritably. "What?"
"Open the Force connection between us," he said, eyes on the silo in case the Sith emerged.
Eagerness flashed across her face for a second, but she shook her head sternly. "Dustil, this isn't a joke. If I open that connection, I will use the Force through you. I can't—"
"Stop," Dustil finished for her. "I know. Look, Pellek, we don't have time for this. We're going to need all of the Force attacks we can spare if we hope to defeat this Sith. Just do it and we'll figure out how to stop it after we're done here."
Pellek closed her eyes briefly and tugged on their connection, and Dustil could suddenly feel her presence on the other side of it. As it was on Espol, her aura was blue but curiously empty, without a powerful tie of its own to the Force. He could feel her pulling at his own aura like someone who had been without water in the desert. He shielded himself lightly against her reach, just enough to protect himself from her grasping desperation.
She turned away from him, flushing. "Sorry," she muttered.
Dustil forced himself not to flinch from the connection between them. It wasn't as powerful as a Bond, after all, and he was well used to sharing the Force with Case. And for all that Pellek claimed to be a Force parasite, not giving anything back to those with whom she made connections, he could feel a thin flow of the Force from her. It wasn't much, but it was there. He wondered what that could mean—
"Watch out!" Pellek shouted.
Dustil looked up just in time to block a burst of Lightning on its way to his head. Pay attention, Dus, he berated himself. He squinted into the bright whiteness ahead but didn't see anything. Then, remembering Espol, he looked through the Force and there saw the enormous shadow of the Sith, only meters away.
You come to die, Jedi, it hissed nastily, its meaning clear through the Force. The Sith was cloaked in black and had somehow used the Force to blur itself into the background, as though it barely existed at all. Unlike on Espol, however, the ambient Force of Telos was clean and neutral, and Dustil could see the Sith more clearly. There was something inside that cloak, which meant they could hurt it physically if they could get through its shields.
Dustil bared his teeth. "Not today, Sith." He leapt high into the air toward the Sith, then used the Force to jerk himself sideways before he reached it. He sent a ball of Force Lightning directly into the Sith's chest while it blocked a strike from Pellek. The Sith's shield flickered orange and it shrieked wordlessly at them.
"Give me an opening," Dustil shouted to Pellek, his words almost unnecessary as the Force connection synchronized their movements. He felt her pull on his Force reserves as she set a series of Stasis traps around the Sith. While it wasted precious time dismantling the traps, Dustil ducked in and made a clean blow across the creature's midsection. The shield flickered again, then dissipated.
The Sith, finally free of the traps, sent a burst of energy away from itself, knocking them both backward. You are no match for our power, it hissed, but Dustil could hear the fear in its words.
Dustil rolled to his feet and started toward the Sith again. "You're not as strong as you think, are you?" he taunted. As he said the words, though, he wondered why that was so. He and Case had both been beaten by this Sith on Espol—why was it so weak now? Perhaps it needed followers, the smaller Sith that had been with it before. Something about that explanation wasn't right, though, and Dustil knew it.
The creature hissed and threw Force Drain his way. Dustil easily ducked the attack and then stepped to the side to allow Pellek to throw a Whirlwind at the Sith. The Sith blocked most of the attack, but Dustil Boosted himself directly at the creature while it was distracted and drove his lightsaber deeply into its chest.
The Sith fell backward into the open silo behind it. Its scream was like an absence of sound, like negative space across the sky. Dustil involuntarily leapt away and had to consciously stop himself from blocking his ears. The oppressive Darkness of the creature fell away, leaving only a faint stain behind.
Dustil hauled himself to his feet and started cautiously toward the silo, battle adrenaline still filling his chest. Pellek stood several meters away with her blade defensively in front of her. Dustil ducked his head to enter the silo, blinking into the gloom, and held his blade out to light the small space. The green glow cast eerie shadows across the rounded walls. The Sith was sprawled on the floor, motionless. "It's dead," he called to Pellek, "or pretty damn close."
He heard Pellek running toward him. "Dustil, wait!" she called urgently. "The holocrons!"
Before he could acknowledge her words, the six holocrons sprang to life around the room. White light exploded out of them and into the Sith on the ground. The holocrons took up a round of hissing, their echoes magnifying as they bounced off the metal walls. The Sith seemed to expand, filling the room with a dark stench.
Dustil backed up, turned to run, but it was too late. A wave of energy picked him up and flung him twenty meters away onto the frozen grown. He landed hard on his left arm and screamed as the bone snapped in half. Lightning followed the first wave before he could raise a shield, and he writhed helplessly on the ground. The world grayed out around him.
"Dustil!" he heard faintly from Pellek. Her presence through the Force connection was enough to bring his senses back into focus. He knew he couldn't get to his feet, but he would at least face the Sith as it came to finish him off. He forced himself onto his back and saw the Sith gliding toward him, its power distorting the air around it.
Now you die, Jedi, it hissed.
Carth ran toward Startol's speeder, bent over at the waist to present less of a target to the blaster shooters. Someone had thrown a smoke grenade that filled the space between the speeders with a dense gray fog that obscured sightlines and sounds. Friend or foe was impossible to distinguish until you were within centimeters, already too late to avoid a confrontation. It was an incredibly dangerous scenario, particularly for amateur, angry fighters like the Resistance members. Carth hoped that if he could capture Startol, the rest of the Vintari force would surrender and bloodshed could be minimized.
He thought he could hear Startol's voice ahead of him, shouting. He held his borrowed blaster ready and sped forward, but he tripped over something and crashed to the ground. Carth hastily rolled to his feet and saw that he'd tripped over a body, one of the Resistance members by the clothing. The Vintari groaned weakly. Casting an anxious glance toward the sound of Startol's voice, Carth turned back and bent over the Vintari.
It was Tykhol, Limae's mate, and he was badly injured. His hands covered a deep vibroblade wound between his ribs, and from the amount of blood on the ground, Carth was sure the wound went all the way through. Without a medpak, the Vintari would certainly die. And there were no medpaks to be found.
Carth leaned down. "Tykhol, can you hear me?" He knew the alien didn't speak Basic, but he wanted him to know someone was with him.
Tykhol's eyes focused with effort on Carth. He said something in Vintari that Carth didn't understand, followed by "Limae."
"I'll try to find her, Tykhol, but you have to hang on, all right?" Carth was afraid he wouldn't have time to find her in the chaos before Tykhol died. He didn't want Tykhol to die alone.
A Vintari in resistance dress ran by and Carth grabbed the runner's arm. "Hey, you!" he shouted. The Vintari tried to jerk away before recognizing Carth, but then dropped to its knees beside him. It was one of the younger camp members, female, but Carth couldn't place her name. She bent over Tykhol and said something to him urgently.
Tykhol's eyes were glazing over and Carth knew they had run out of time. "Heal," he said to the runner. "Can you Heal with the Force?" The Vintari looked at him blankly and Carth cursed the language barrier. He placed his hand above Tykhol's wound in an imitation of a Healing gesture. "Force Heal," he repeated.
The Vintari seemed to understand him, but when she placed her hand above Tykhol's chest, it glowed only for a moment before fading out. She looked up at Carth and gestured helplessly. He didn't know if she didn't have sufficient skill for Heal or if she was out of reserves, but her efforts hadn't even stopped the bleeding.
Carth stood in spite of the blaster fire around him and looked through the smoke for any sign of Limae. "Limae!" he shouted. She could be anywhere. He started back in the direction from which he had come.
"Admiral," the Vintari with Tykhol called in garbled Basic. He turned back to see her gesturing furiously at Tykhol. The Vintari was gasping for breath, his head fur a sickly off-white color. Tykhol was holding a hand out toward Carth.
Carth looked around him one last time for Limae, then dropped back to his knees next to Tykhol. He took the Vintari's outstretched hand. He'd done this before, and it never got easier. "We're winning, Tykhol," Carth said quietly. In truth, he had no idea what was going on in the chaos around him. "Your people will be safe. Limae will be safe."
Tykhol mouthed something that never turned into words. His eyes closed.
The Vintari who had tried to Heal Tykhol bent down and touched her headfur to his. She put a hand briefly on Carth's shoulder and said something solemnly in Vintari, then got up and disappeared back into the now-dissipating smoke.
Carth pulled Tykhol's body into the shadow of a nearby speeder. It wasn't a good solution, but it was all he could do. He saluted the dead Vintari, then started back in the direction he had been heading to begin. He couldn't hear Startol's voice anymore, and in fact, it sounded like the chaos was beginning to subside all around him. He didn't know yet whether that was a good or bad sign.
He finally reached Startol's speeder. The first thing he noticed were all of the casualties around it. At least ten Vintari soldiers and half that many Resistance members lay on the ground or across the speeder, all with significant wounds, all dead. While Carth had been tending to Tykhol, it looked as though the Vintari soldiers had made their last stand here, around their leader. And it appeared that the Resistance had won the day.
Carth's momentary elation was dampened when he noticed Startol himself. The Vintari was on the ground, unarmed, and still alive. Gellan was standing over him with his boot across the smaller alien's neck. He had a blaster aimed at Startol's head.
"Gellan, stop!" Carth shouted.
Gellan didn't look away from Startol. "Stand back, Admiral," he warned.
"Gellan, we've won. We don't need to kill Startol. He has nowhere to go." Carth glanced warily from Startol's helpless figure to Gellan's stiff form. He knew barely-contained rage when he saw it, and he knew any wrong word from him was likely to result in Startol's quick death.
"I was in that prison for two years," Gellan said in a low voice. "I watched everyone around me die like an animal, used up and thrown away." He pushed his boot harder into Startol's throat, eliciting a strangled gasp from the Vintari. "He deserves to die!"
Carth thought about Case's ruined hands, about the weeks she had spent alone as a prisoner on Vintar, and his hand clenched his blaster. But he also remembered looking down at Saul on the Leviathan and the emptiness that stayed with him afterward. He sighed and unclenched his hand. "You're right. He does deserve to die. But not by us. His people have to make their own decision, in their own legal system. Don't give into the Dark side, Gellan."
"Bastila and Case might be dead and you're arguing about due process!" Gellan shouted. His finger tightened on the blaster trigger, but Carth saw his hands shaking.
"I'm not a Jedi. But believe me when I tell you that killing Startol isn't going to help. Let him go." Carth took a gamble and stepped forward, putting a hand on the outstretched blaster. Gellan didn't back down for a long moment, then jerked away with a frustrated growl and tossed the blaster to the ground.
Carth breathed a quick sigh of relief and hauled Startol up by his shirtfront.
"My thanks," Startol wheezed.
Carth cracked the small alien across the jaw and shoved him into the speeder. "I'm didn't do it for you, you son of a schutta. You're coming with us to the city." He looked up and waved Gellan into the speeder. "Come on, we have to finish this."
The yellow-green glow of the gas planet cast odd shadows as they approached the city. Carth checked again to be sure Startol was still secure in binders behind him, then rummaged under his seat and came up with a set of binocs. He could see a flicker of yellow light behind the heavy gates in front of the prison. He handed the binocs to Gellan. "Something's on fire back there. We'll have to be careful." He hoped they weren't too late.
He stopped the speeder in the gate's shadow and swung down. Carth grabbed Startol by the collar again and put his blaster to the Vintari's head. "You make one wrong noise and I'll shoot you before it's out, got it?" he hissed. Pushing Startol before him, Carth and Gellan made their way quietly to the gate.
"Put in the code," Carth ordered, then saw that the gate was unlocked and ajar. He pushed Startol back to Gellan and carefully eased around the opening. The light from a burning speeder momentarily blinded him, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.
The courtyard was littered with Vintari soldiers. The smell of blood was in the air, and it looked like whatever battle occurred here had only recently ended. A dozen or so white-clothed sentients formed a huddled mass on the other side of the courtyard from the bodies, a few looking at their hands like they couldn't believe what they had just done. Carth didn't immediately see Case or Bastila and feared the worst.
"Carth!" he heard. He looked through the courtyard to see Case leaning in the doorway to the main building.
Leaving Gellan and Startol at the gate, Carth ran across the courtyard and enveloped Case in his arms. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she replied, voice muffled against his chest. He pushed her to arms' length and saw the paleness of her skin and the scorchmarks from Force Lightning across her clothes. She laughed at his doubtful expression. "I am. Or I will be in a few days." She glanced around him. "Who's with you? Is Royei here?"
"Why? Who needs a healer?" Carth asked.
"Bastila!" Gellan exclaimed, striding past Carth and Case to a prone figure on the floor inside the building. Bastila appeared to be unconscious, but she rolled her head back and forth, eyes flickering rapidly under her lids. She was muttering words, some in Basic, others in what almost sounded Vintari to Carth's ears. Gellan kneeled down next to her and grabbed her seeking hands. She held on to him, but didn't seem to know he was there. Gellan looked up at Case. "What's wrong with her?"
Case shook her head, worry thinning her lips. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. She's been like that for about an hour, since we defeated Tepai. Tepai did something to her, but I don't know what it was."
With a jolt, Carth remembered Startol and spun around, looking for him. His hands still bound behind him, Startol was crouched down next to another prone form, his head pressed to the other's headfur. A low keening came from him.
Carth glanced at Case and she nodded. "Tepai. She killed herself on Bastila's blade." Carth looked back at the broken Vintari and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Death by Gellan's blaster would have been kinder, after all.
He sighed, exhaustion replacing battle adrenaline. Carth held Case against him for another moment, then stepped away and squared his shoulders. He saw Case do the same and he smiled wearily at her. "I'll get Royei and the others," he said. They'd won the day, but the cost had been high. He glanced back at Bastila, her head now cushioned in Gellan's lap. And there was still more to do.
"Dustil!" Pellek shouted. Dustil was still sprawled motionless on the ground where the Sith had tossed him. He was too far for her to reach before the Sith did. Steam rose around his body from the Lightning attack, but Pellek could tell from their connection that he wasn't dead. He must have heard her, because he turned over, but Pellek knew that he couldn't defend himself. The Sith would kill him.
"Atton, how could you leave me alone now?" she whispered. She knew what she had to do, but it terrified her. She reached for the Force connection to Dustil, then drew away, hesitant.
No time, she seemed to hear. Whose voice, she wasn't sure—she had so many ghosts around her. But it was right. It was now or never. She steeled herself and reached through the connection to Dustil, pulling as hard as she could on his Force reserves. She felt his surprise and fear and brushed away his weak attempt to raise a shield against her. She pulled the Force out of Dustil and into herself, imagining herself getting larger and brighter as she filled up with his power. She could do anything, defeat anyone, control whatever she wanted.
Pellek opened her eyes and hastily slowed her drain. Dustil was barely conscious now, so she sent him a little Force Heal back through their connection. She had more Force reserves now than at any time since Malachor. She hoped it would be enough to do what she had to do.
"Sith!" she shouted. When it turned, she let loose a Force Wave followed by a Stasis Field. She didn't think she could beat the creature with just Force attacks, certainly not just the Lightside attacks that she could muster. But if she could draw its attention from Dustil—
The creature shrieked as the attacks hit its renewed shield and it turned toward her. She deflected the Lightning it threw and relit her lightsaber. It glowed palely against the ice, fueled by the crystal Kreia made for her months ago. "Can you fight?" she yelled at the Sith.
The Sith Boosted to her almost too quickly to see. Pellek spun her blade in a Flurry, deflecting the Sith's burst of Lightning attacks. She tossed Force Pushes like punches at the creature, all the time moving toward it and forcing it to move backward.
The Sith hissed at her. You waste your power, Jedi, she heard through the Force. You will kill the boy for nothing. Pellek let her concentration slip as she quickly checked Dustil's status—he was still alive—and Lightning singed her side. The Sith laughed. You will join us, it said.
Pellek checked her reserves and knew that she was couldn't keep up her attack forever. The Sith, pulsing with the power of the holocrons' stolen Force energy, was easily deflecting her blows. If she let her concentration down for even a moment, she knew it would kill her. She knew she was finally at the end of her choices. There was only one thing to do now.
"It's the other way around, I'm afraid," she said, and reached for the Sith in the Force. She wrapped her hand around the core of its being and tugged, pulling it toward her. The Sith realized what she was doing at the last moment and struggled to free itself, but it was too late. Pellek had already made the Force connection, and she was pulling the Sith into herself.
"Pellek, no!" she heard faintly, and opened her eyes to see Dustil staggering toward her, left arm cradled in his right. With a gesture, she brought up a Force shield around her and the Sith that she knew Dustil was too drained to break. He pounded on the outside, shouting. "Don't do this, Pellek!"
Instead of responding, Pellek merely closed her eyes again and concentrated on the flow of power inside of her. The Sith was shrinking, screaming, flailing itself like a fly trapped in a spider's web, but she knew it couldn't escape. She was more powerful than it. In her mind's eye, she watched the Sith until it shrank into a wisp of Darkness and disappeared.
Pellek was alone in her head. She could see the flow of the Force around her, stained oily and black from the Sith she had consumed, bluish gray from Dustil's power, and hints of blue and red from elsewhere. Strings of Force connection spiraled away from her toward those she still held—Dustil, Mical, Visas, Follani, and even non-Force users like Mandalore. She knew she could reach others, anyone else in the galaxy, just by willing it. She could bind them all to her, use their power for her own purposes.
"Now do you see what you are capable of, Exile?" a raspy voice asked. Pellek looked up to see Kreia standing before her. The old woman looked the same as she had just before Pellek killed her—ancient, angry, but full of expectation.
"You're not really here," Pellek said flatly. Kreia had never come to her as a ghost, and she didn't believe the old woman was with her now.
A smile quirked Kreia's mouth. "Am I not?" she asked. She waved her hand around the darkness surrounding them. "This is a place of your own creation, Exile. I am here because you want me here, because there is something you still need from me. It can still be done, Exile. You can still unclasp the stranglehold that the Force has on the universe."
"General, don't let her use you like this," Bao-Dur appeared beside her. His voice was soft, his eyes full of worry. "You know what she is, and she serves the Dark."
Kreia laughed. "I serve no one, mechanic! The Exile knows what is at stake—the Force subverts the will of sentients everywhere, does for them what they should do for themselves. It must be stopped. Only the Exile can do it."
Realization, so long in coming, finally reached Pellek. "The True Sith are a belief, you said. That's what you meant, wasn't it? You're not Sith the way Malak and Revan were Sith—you're a True Sith yourself."
"Anarchy will cleanse the universe," Kreia whispered.
Pellek called her blade to her hand and pointed it toward Kreia's ghostly form. How many times did she have to defeat the old woman? "You killed my friends," she growled.
"No, you killed them," Kreia snapped. "You insisted upon following the path of the Light and let the Force guide you when you should have been guiding yourself! You should have taken the Force from your weak friends, the Lost Jedi, and used them to command the galaxy, but instead you pitied yourself and attacked those who only wished to help you!"
Pellek remembered the look of terror on Master Vrook's face before he died. Perhaps this ghost of Kreia was right. "I only wanted to help," she whispered. "That's all I've ever wanted. I've done the right thing over and over again, but the wrong outcome keeps happening. I'm tired of all the death that follows the Light."
Kreia smiled. "Then let it go. Control your own destiny."
"General, you know better than that," Bao-Dur said urgently. "Following the Light doesn't mean that the Dark doesn't exist. But abandoning the Light won't help you!"
Pellek didn't know what to do. She had thought that she could absorb the Sith, but she believed it would kill her. She didn't expect to suddenly be trapped in her head with the ghosts of her past, demanding that she make a decision. She wasn't strong enough, she never had been—
"You have to choose, Pel," a third voice said. Atton sat cross-legged to her right, wisps of the Force trailing around him. "That's why you're here."
"Choose what?" she asked.
"You know," Atton replied flatly.
"What, I have to choose whether to destroy the Force? Right now, right here on Telos? That's ridiculous! I'm just a mediocre Jedi! I'm not important enough for this!" She could hear an edge of hysteria in her voice.
Kreia smiled. "The fool is right, my dear. Your ability to connect to people means that you have the power to undermine the Force. Join us and receive absolution for all the deaths you've caused in the name of the Force."
"That's giving up!" Bao-Dur snapped. "Life is hard, General. But the universe needs you in it, needs people who are still committed to doing good."
Pellek looked desperately at Atton. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.
Atton's eyes were as worried as Bao-Dur's. "I've always been on your side, Pel. I'll stand with you no matter what decision you make, but it has to be your decision."
In the swirling darkness beyond Kreia and Bao-Dur, Pellek thought she could see the ghosts of everyone she had killed, all the soldiers at Malachor, the Jedi Masters. They seemed to press around her, whispering, insisting she make a decision.
And suddenly, she knew what to do. She had to let go of the past, to stop her past wrongs from choking her present. "Kreia, I forgive you."
"What are you doing?" Kreia asked, alarmed. "Don't—"
"You say that I have to destroy the Force and let people decide their own fates, but that's just another way of deciding for them. Master Vrook told me was a danger to the Force, just by existing. Well, I won't be a parasite anymore, even if that means I can't feel the Force."
She reached out to the tendrils of the Force around her and gently pulled them away from her. She let the Darkness of the Sith she had defeated spill through her fingers and dissipate into the Force. With a small pop, she broke the connection to Dustil, filling the darkness around her with pale light. She looked at the old woman. "Kreia, I forgive you, but I won't be a tool." She snapped the ghostly line between them and Kreia disappeared. One by one, she broke all of the Force connections she had held so dearly.
The darkness around her had lightened to sky blue. "I've been hanging onto the Force through everyone because I couldn't bear the thought of being alone again. But that's not a real life, it can't be. I have to stand on my own again." She held in her hands two transparent lines. Atton and Bao-Dur. She looked up at the two ghosts, tears on her face. "I have to let you go, too," she whispered. "Thank you both for everything."
Bao smiled gently. "You don't need me anymore, General. You never did, really." She snapped their connection and he faded away.
"Atton," she began.
He grinned. "Don't worry, babe. My jokes were getting pretty old, anyway." There were tears in his eyes, too. He raised a hand to her cheek. "I'll always love you," he said. Pellek snapped the last line and he was gone.
Suddenly alone, she drew a shuddering breath. The Force swirled around her in the vast blue space, bumping up against her legs like ghostly kittens, but she couldn't feel it. She had freed herself from the Force. She let out a breath. "So this is it. It's over," she said to herself.
"It's not quite the end, you know," she heard. Pellek spun around to see Mira standing behind her, hand on her hip and smirking. "Or at least, it doesn't have to be."
"Mira!" Pellek reached for her and her hand passed through. She sighed. "You're just a ghost."
"What, that creep Atton gets to be a hero and I have to just be dead?" Mira laughed, her eyes sparkling the way they always did.
"You never appeared to me before," Pellek said. Her joy at seeing Mira dimmed. "You're just in my head, aren't you?"
Mira smiled. "Isn't everything? Look, I don't have a lot of time. I brought something for you." She held out her hands and dropped a small white stone into Pellek's.
The stone was cool and perfectly round. "What is it?" she asked.
"It's you," Mira replied, then laughed. "You didn't think you were just a parasite, did you? You could feel the Force, just not as strongly as before. You've always been able to, even when you were exiled. You can again."
"But I don't want the Force!" Pellek protested. "I've caused too much harm."
Mira's face became serious. "You forgave Kreia, Pel, but you have to forgive yourself, too."
"After everything I've done—"
"Everyone can be redeemed," Mira said firmly. "You're not exempt from that." She held her hands over the small stone in Pellek's hand. "Think of this as a seed. You can let it grow, if you want. You can start over."
"Mira—" Pellek said desperately. "I'm so sorry—"
"I forgive you, Pellek Tran," Mira said formally, then grinned. "And forgiveness doesn't come easily to a bounty hunter. The past is gone, Pel. Let it go. Forgive yourself." Mira started to dissipate.
Pellek looked down at the stone in her hand, then back up to Mira. "Is this real? Are you—are you real?"
Mira smiled. "I'll be waiting for you, love." She faded away.
Pellek opened her eyes to find herself sprawled on the icy ground of Telos, Dustil bending over her. "Pellek!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were—"
Pellek pushed herself upright painfully. How long had she been inside her own head? "Dead? Dark? Sorry to disappoint you on both counts, kid."
Around her she could smell the cold air, feel the ice under her hands, but she couldn't sense the Force. She was alone as she had been after her Exile, but she felt curiously light, free. The burdens she had carried on her shoulders for fifteen years were still there, but she thought they weren't crushing her anymore. She could live with them.
Dustil was staring at her in a mix of confusion and awe. "Your aura—you used to be a void, a negative space. But now you're not. What—how—what did you do?
She smiled at Dustil's perplexed eyes. "I've let go." She got to her feet and helped Dustil to his, careful to avoid his broken arm and burns. "Come on, kid, let's get back to Vintar."