darkness rising

As promised by Valia, they broke camp early the next morning.

When the sun rose above the sands of the Dune Sea they stepped into the echoing labyrinth of the Jundland Wastes once again, moving from light to shadow without wasting time. In the middle of the towering entrance, dark canyon walls rising above her on both sides, Jaina hesitated for a second. They were close.

Do not continue on. There is nothing but grief waiting for you at the end of this journey. Turn around, before it is too late, return home, live your life…

In the shadows of the canyon walls – she hadn't realized they were quite that high the day before – Valia led Jag and Jaina through the maze of ravines. It was almost cold without the scorching twin suns burning down on them. The red dust soon covered her hands and clothes but Jaina had gotten used to it.

When had she gotten used to it? She had no idea.

They ate while walking: nutri bars and some dried fruit and nuts the caravan had given them. Valia eyed their water supply worriedly but didn't say anything. Jaina exchanged a worried look with Jag and frowned. He shrugged, shook his head.

The water needs to last until we get back to the oasis.

It should be enough if we reach the Valley tomorrow.

They still hadn't discussed what they would do with the Dark Jedi. Take her back, as Jaina had planned on doing? Kill her, as Jag wished for?

"Well," Jag said. "We certainly never had to deal with that kind of dilemma before."

Jaina's heart slammed against her rib cage painfully. "What do you mean?"

"On Borleias, there was water enough. We never had to worry about dehydration."

"Oh." Jaina wrapped a strand of her hair around her fingers. She hadn't had a shower in what felt like weeks, even if it had only been a few days. She felt dirty and grimy, sweaty all over from her head to her toes. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like I spent great parts of my life on jungle planets."

"You don't say," Jag said, his face so completely impassive that his irony seemed to jump out at her crassly.

Appalled at the implications of her words she froze, unable to wipe the dismay of her face. Of course Jag had to turn around right then. When he saw her, he frowned.

"Relax, Solo. I was joking."

"Ha, ha," she said weakly.

He threw her a last unreadable glance and turned away again. She was glad.

The canyon walls rose into the sky to their left and right. There was barely a sound except for their foot-steps and the occasional cry of a vulture. Valia waved at them to be quiet. Jaina's danger sense vibrated now and then, but they never seemed to get too close to the desert pirates that roamed the Wastelands, living in caves and on the travelers passing by on their way through the Dune Sea. There was something else there, instead, the thin whisper of silent voices she had heard since she had landed on Tatooine and had thought to be in her mind only. It seemed malicious, now, ill-intended. A darkness lurking at the edges of her being that made her sick to the core.

Walk away, Jedi.

Shivering, she closed her eyes briefly and focused on the Force. It felt dampened, somehow, as if covered by a veil – but still there. Jaina tapped into it gladly, drawing strength from it. Valia's presence was a comforting glow at the edge of her consciousness. And Jag… Well, Jag was there. As soon as she returned to Ossus, she would have to talk with Uncle Luke. Maybe do some serious meditating: there sure was a way to make this stop.

They walked.

Around noon, they came across something Jaina wouldn't have expected: the eviscerated skeleton of a sand-covered, rusted old speeder. Valia didn't stop, just tapped it trice in passing: her gaze was almost affectionate.

"Rest in peace," she murmured.

Jag frowned. "What does a speeder do in the Wastelands?"

"That's not a speeder," Valia said and shot him a chastising glance. "That's a podracer."

"A what?"

"Podracer. Don't you foreigners know anything? Podracing is a national sport on Tatooine. There are grand races twice a year, and they are highly advertised. Only the best pilots can control podracers. They consist mainly of the pilot's pod and the turbines, nothing else. Of course, that makes them a trifle difficult to fly. Speed is the foremost factor, not comfort."

"How fast do they go?" Jaina asked.

Valia grinned. "You have no idea. Every year, half of the participants crash before even reaching the finish line. There's only been one human in Tatooine's race history that has won a podrace, and that was almost eight decades ago."

"They're really that fast, huh."

"Don't get stupid ideas, Jedi."

"Oh, she could do it," Jag put in. "You haven't seen what she can do with a StealthX, or even a coral skipper." He paused, pensive, and added: "Come to think of it, there's probably nothing she can't fly."

An odd sense of pride, followed by embarrassment. He didn't need to lie for her sake. At the same time, Jaina knew that he meant it. He hadn't said it because he wanted to flatter her but because Jag told the truth when he saw it.

His praise meant more to her than she could have said.

What do you think you are doing? The voice that rang through her head was full of anger, dripping with accusation. Jaina flinched. Did you think I was gone, sister mine? After what you did to me, how could you even for a second believe there could be something like peace for you ever again?

It was enough to shake her back into reality and wiped all thoughts of Jag from her mind. In a perverted, desperate way, Jaina was glad.

Afternoon slipped into early evening and the sun sank behind the canyon walls, coloring the red desert sand rusty-brown and black. The shadows grew and turned even darker. They trekked on silently, now. The tension of possible danger had somehow morphed into something tangible that each one of them could feel. Valia was tense, her shoulders set. Her eyes were scanning their surroundings steadily, wary of every sign of a possible Tusken Raider attack. Jag followed her, his hand on his blaster. He, too, was on constant alert. Jaina could see it – but she could feel it, too. His vigilance resonated with hers. It might have been uncomfortable at another time but right now, it helped her focus. Her Force senses stretched wide Jaina brought up the rear, hand on her light saber. But there was no sign of the sand pirates, no hint that they were walking into a trap. The constant state of alertness they were in made them expect something around every corner and behind every rock. It became exhausting, but they didn't dare relax. The last time, Jaina told herself sarcastically, she had relaxed in order to almost get eaten by a krayt dragon-

That was it, she recognized. Or, at least, part of the reason for her tension, for there was far more she had to worry about. But once she noticed it, it couldn't be disregarded any longer.

"There's nothing here," she said quietly.

"Nothing?" Jag turned half-way, not breaking his stride.

Valia stopped, as if she had heard Jaina's silent words, and smiled grimly. "You noticed?" She turned towards Jag: "Nothing's alive here. Not even snakes. It's not normal, she does not like this the least. But we're close now."

She. Valia meant Tatooine again, Jaina supposed. She had no idea what part of her claims the planet was sentient were true and what was pure fantasy. Probably, the old desert runner was both a bit senile and a bit mad.

And then the towering canyon walls descended. Slowly first, then in a steep decline. There was sunlight again, bright and powerful, and Jaina blinked into day's last sunrays and almost gasped. The canyon path opened into an open expanse, smooth and red-dusty and covered with rocks here and there. The ground they stood on only continued for a few more meters and ten sloped downwards steeply. It was a cliff, Jaina realized, a plateau that towered over what could only be the Valley of Spirits. Red and brown rock turned into sand slowly, the colors intermixing. The valley was fairly small, surrounded by golden dunes on the one side and by the reddish-brown plateau on the other. Over the hills on the far side, the sun sank in a glorious display of colors.

"The Valley of Spirits," Valia said, unnecessary, and swept her hand out to point at their destination at the bottom of the vale.

Jag sounded troubled. "We won't reach it today."

"No." Valia shook her head and her grey hair danced with the movement, shone with the sunlight. "We will camp here tonight. Tomorrow, we can descend."

"Stay here?" Jaina's instincts rang in alarm. "We're too exposed here."

Jag nodded. "If the Tusken Raiders decide to attack again we have no way to go. Except for down, of course." He jerked his head at the edge of the plateau.

"The Tusken Raiders won't come here," Valia said. "They say the plateau and the valley are cursed."

"You don't say?" Jag frowned at her. "What are they afraid of?"

"I guess that depends." Valia's expression was pensive. "I never met anyone who survived the night here to tell of it."

"Wonderful." Jaina didn't need to look at Jag in order to know what he felt, but she did it anyway. "We can't go forward, we can't go back." She shivered.

"You're not afraid of local legends, girl?" Valia asked with a smirk, but even she seemed cautious.

"Of course not," Jaina said, bitingly. "But as you so kindly pointed out before, all legends have a true core."

"Well," the desert runner offered. "You could go back and see whether you survive a night inside the labyrinth. Or you could try your luck here." She moved towards a small, cave-like indentation in the canyon walls and plopped down her bag. "If you return tomorrow, I'll lead you down towards the valley."

Jag frowned at her. Jaina heaved a sigh. There was a pressure building up in her head that probably would turn into a full-blown headache if she didn't take a break soon…

This is crazy.

I know.

But our only option.

I know.

Simultaneously, they turned towards Valia's chosen camp site again. Jaina opened her mouth to ask whether she should take the first watch – and everything registered at the same time: the way Valia was sprawled out on the ground, unconscious. The way the sun blazed up and lit the rust-brown sands a bloody red and the way the Force darkened, suddenly, and a black, invisible hand clamped around her heart and her mind and pushed. Jaina stood, frozen, while the darkness rose over her like a tidal wave and drowned out everything. The Force flickered feebly, desperately, and was extinguished. Jaina opened her mouth to scream: no sound left her lips.

Instead, the darkness crashed down on her.

She couldn't breathe.

The darkness surrounding her was a sticky, heavy mass of something. There was no sense of direction or time but that didn't matter since there was no way to escape and no other place to go. The stifling weight of the Dark Side cloaked her completely: clouded her mind and weighted down her limbs. Its sheer overwhelming presence managed to drive away every thought on light and hope Jaina might have been able to muster. There was no hope, there was no happiness – especially not for her. What was she still fighting for? It was useless. Nobody had ever heard her, anyway.

Jaina had seen so much in her life: she had lost friends, she had almost lost her parents. She had lost her beloved little brother and twin. She had fought – mentally and physically – she had fought and fought and fought and screamed all the while. Silently screamed in her head until her voice was raw, had screamed, begged, pleaded for it to stop. She was the Sword of the Jedi, had known since she had been elevated to the status of a Jedi Knight. She had always known it was her duty to fight for the Force and for the Jedi. She had known she would never have a home, would never find peace. And she had always felt the weight of her fate, but she had also known she would never be able to do something against it. It was her duty, it was her fate, it was her life to give for others, and there was nothing she could do. The least she could expect was for people who went that path with her, couldn't she? But nobody ever seemed to stay for long. Not her lover, not her friends, not even her brothers-

Why is everyone leaving me?

Oh, she had tried. She had tried and tried and it had taken her to the brink of the Dark Side more than once. Just like now, she had been threatened to drown in darkness more than once, had lost her hope, her will to live with the burden that was the fate the Light Side had placed upon her. And she could have lost herself in it, she knew now. She could have let go. It must have been horrible for Jacen, her sweet, calm twin who loved animals and nature as much as he loved humans and who had been forced to leave his self behind in favor of the expectations everyone else had placed on him, and that had broken him. Jacen had found nothing to hold on, while Jaina had been dragged back again and again. But for what? She could feel it, once again. It had always been there, never far, always: waiting for her to accept it. All the hate and anger that had gathered for more than a decade: against the Shadow Academy, the Yuuzhan Vong, the Chiss, the Galactic Alliance. All the enemies, small and large, she had fought against. All the despair and fear boiling inside her, the desperate incomprehension: why are you doing this to us? Where was the Force when people needed saving, when children died by the hands of savages, when invaders shattered worlds and killed myriads and destroyed societies? Where was the Force when her little brother had died, when her twin had been captured, her parents had been separated? Where had it been when her twin had turned against his own family?

Jaina opened her eyes: the valley stretching out in front of her seemed bright to her eyes.

Death, she realized. Anger clouded her gaze, a veil red as blood dancing in front of her eyes. People had died here: innocent people and guilty people, children, grown men and women and elders. They had been slaughtered. Maybe it had been an act of revenge, or maybe there had been revenge taken for them. But it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. This world had seen everything – the galaxy had seen everything. The injustice, the torture, all the pain beings inflicted onto each other. For their own pleasure, for their own selfish reasons, sometimes even with the intention of doing the right thing. But the universe didn't care, and the galaxy didn't care. Beings could kill each other, commit murder, even genocide. Children and women would be raped and sold into slavery and good men would be betrayed. And people like the Jedi would try and try as they might and exhaust themselves trying to help, desperately trying again and again. In return they were despised and mistrusted and used. And yet they would try and try – look at Uncle Luke, and what it had cost him, and her parents who had lost two of their three children and still the galaxy asked more and more of them and it never was enough and nobody cared and It. Was. Enough.

Why fight for the galaxy and all the species in it when nobody fought for the Jedi? And it wasn't only the Jedi. There were so many other beings – betrayed, left, abandoned, used up until an empty shell was the only thing that remained-

We were hundreds, once. Now we are barely a handful, crying out. The galaxy would not hear us. Our time has come. We will raze this galaxy-

And Jaina wasn't Jaina Solo anymore. She wasn't her parents' daughter and or her uncle's niece, Zekk's and Lowbacca's and Tenel Ka's best friend or Jagged Fel's former lover. She wasn't Jaina Solo, Jedi Knight: She was Darkness. She would descend unto the unsuspecting worlds and wreak havoc. She would shatter the chains that bound races. She would free them of the burden that was life, would punish those who did wrong and would bring ascension to those who had suffered for all their lives. Because in Darkness was freedom, in death was eternity, and she would be the Queen of Darkness-

Welcome, sister mine. Now you and I both are broken, and truly one.

The voice was there. She could see him, could feel him, their Twin bond blazed back to life in a wave of heat and darkness.

Jacen.

Her beloved brother, her twin in everything except for gender – when had he had the same realization? When had he accepted that nothing they could do would save the galaxy? So Darth Caedus had tried to kill his parents and his sister, had tortured his nephew and had crippled his aunt. He had abducted his own daughter. He had fought, he had killed and ordered kills, he had condoned the use of a bioweapon that had harmed an entire planet. And after their confrontation, after he had stopped fighting his own twin, heavily injured, to reach out to Tenel Ka in order to save his daughter, after Jaina had refused to take the last step, he had been taken into custody of the Jedi Order and had been exiled. Had been sent to a dead planet at the outermost Outer Rim of the Unknown Region, a place so far away even the Chiss had no detailed knowledge of it. The Yuuzhan Vong had, however. It had been their world once.

I failed. As a sister, as a daughter, as a niece. As a protector. As a Jedi, I failed.

But it hardly mattered now. The small voice in the back of her head faded away and died. She wouldn't be a Jedi anymore, she would be a sword. She would be the protector but the judge and the jury, executioner and hangman. She would bring down darkness over the galaxy that had betrayed her and the ones she loved again and again and again. She would carry fear into the farthest corners of the universe: fear and darkness, and with it, eternal silence. She would retrieve her brother, and together they would take the measure of revenge and the power and darkness they were entitled to. They had fought for their entire lives, and they had been given nothing in return. It was only fair they took what was rightly theirs, then.

Jaina closed her eyes and surrendered to the darkness. It welcomed her like a long-lost daughter.