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Chapter Four: Alone
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Lord Onyx felt a flicker of regret when the Emperor used the Force to push at Jacen's nerve centre, activating the pain all over again. After all, it couldn't be that Jacen was a fool on purpose. And…once…long ago…Zekk and Jacen had been friends.Which had to be why Zekk was being so irritatingly loud with his grief, Onyx thought with a scowl.
But then Jaina screamed.
A sharp stab and prolonged cry of anguish bled through a Force bond Onyx hadn't known he possessed, searing to his soul. Quickly and—though he would deny it—unable to bear the agony in Jaina's scream, Lord Onyx called upon the Force and mercifully snapped Jacen's neck. Jaina's shrieks stopped abruptly, but, somehow, the silence was worse – and louder – than her verbal cries.
The Emperor turned to his apprentice, livid. "How dare you interfere!" he stormed.
"You've made your point, Lord Emperor," Lord Onyx replied coldly as he turned back to the viewport, watching as Jaina stared at her brother's empty robes in silent shock. "She could be a powerful ally. Torturing her twin past the point where his mind is no longer there is not the way to earn her allegiance."
The Emperor continued to glare at Lord Onyx. "Try my patience any longer, my apprentice, and you will earn my wrath."
"Jaina has never been an individual," Lord Onyx stated flatly, continuing to watch the Solo daughter as he quickly polished off an idea. "She is a Jedi – one of a cult, if you will, that encourages anonymity – and a Skywalker-Solo…making her a celebrity for her family's sake, and not her own. She was also a twin – half of one being.
"Now she finds her cult rapidly withering, her family dead, far away or on bad terms with her. And her twin is now dead, leaving her with half a heart and soul. At this point she will grab any willing individual from her happier past as an anchor."
Understanding flooded the Emperor's
face, and the Sith Master released an evil cackle. "And you were her
childhood playmate," he finished. "The very one who saved her
brother from more pain." The Emperor waved a hand
imperiously. "Very well then, Lord Onyx. Turn her, no matter what
it takes. From now on, Jaina Solo's life is in your hands."
----
If they tried to torture her…well, she'd like to see them top Jacen's death.
However, Jaina's protective wall of not-caring nearly broke when she recognized the Force-essence that covered the quarters. The rooms the Guards had thrown her in belonged to Ze—no, she reminded herself for the billionth time in five years, not Zekk—Lord Onyx. Everything in the suite belonged to Onyx.
Never Zekk. Zekk, who was gone.
"You're here." The quiet statement startled her, even in her mild stupor, and she spun to see Lord Onyx in all his Sithly glory.
Jaina's eyes—not quite under her control in the aftermath of Jacen's death—took him in, too many emotions to count in her eyes. He had grown a foot since the holo he sent her five years ago, when he had first begun his training at the Shadow Academy. She would never get used to that new height, even after all their fights. His dark hair, as long as before but certainly not as unruly or messy, was now tied back neatly at the nape of his neck. His emerald eyes, piercing and as beautiful as she remembered, looked back at her, his gaze, oddly enough, filled with desire, as if she were water on Tatooine.
But Onyx's eyes were so cold, so unfeeling – and always, always, so different from Zekk's.
She would have killed to see Zekk's eyes again. And she had – killed, that is. Many times. But the reward hadn't come. And it never will, a voice taunted her. It sounded like her mother on a bad day, when she was mad enough to let loose.
"Obviously," Jaina snapped in return to Onyx's statement, forcing her eyes to stop their admiration of his physique. Not going there, Solo, she told herself firmly. He's a Sith. Sith equals bad. Bad, bad, bad. Despite the truth, her heart (why couldn't the stupid organ just give up already?) stubbornly clung to any excuse she could find for him.
Angry with herself, she pressed logic and pain into the mental conversation. Remember Teneniel D'jo? Tenel Ka's mom? Lord Onyx killed her, just like he killed Corran and hundreds of others. I may have an unhealthy attraction to…scoundrels, but he's way past that stage.
Lord Onyx's right eyebrow leapt up in almost-amusement. "Still have fire in your soul, Jedi Solo?" he asked, breaking into her mental lecture.
Jedi Solo? she wondered, a little hurt that she was no more than a title. Well, if he wants to play it that way, fine.
"Merely stating a fact," she said calmly. /Anyone with eyes could see that I'm here, Onyx. You weren't quoting philosophy!/ she sent coldly through the bond she had mysteriously found between them. It was, she decided, a bond she didn't particularly want.
"The Emperor – " Jaina sniggered, and Lord Onyx gave her a silencing glare before he continued, "has found you guilty of treason." He paused, as if expecting her to ask about her trial. Jaina, however, knew that there would be no such thing as Brakiss couldn't afford anyone to figure out he wasn't Palpatine, and so she said nothing. "You, Jedi Knight Jaina Solo," Onyx continued, "are henceforth stripped of all rights—human, alien, or otherwise—and have been signed over to me."
Jaina's mind, still sore from Jacen's death, took several seconds to take it all in. When it did, her temper flared to dangerous levels. "I'd rather die than be the pleasure-slave of a monster like you," she spat, remembering Tamith Kai's threat.
Lord Onyx ignored the brief ache he felt at her obvious, low opinion of him. Instead, he took several steps forward until there was very little room between them. He smiled slightly when he saw her jaw angle defiantly, and her body tight with energy, ready to fight. Reaching out, he ran three fingers down the side of her face to the base of her neck. Impossibly, her body tensed even more, as if she thought he would choke her. He ignored another second of pain at the idea.
"Would you rather be the…property of the emperor?" he asked menacingly, almost daring her to speak the affirmative. He was pleased to feel her pain, and even a small amount of fear, at the suggestion. So, she knew how Brakiss treated his slaves, did she? "I am your only friend in the Imperial Palace, Jaina Solo," Onyx said softly, but no less coldly. "You would be wise not to anger me."
Jaina's eyes darkened with something he didn't recognize, and she sighed and looked down, breaking eye contact. "If this is how you treat your friends, Onyx, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."
----
The next several hours were tense as Jaina silently recounted evil deed Lord Onyx had ever committed in an effort to keep from saying, thinking or doing something she would regret. She stood, leaning against one wall, her arms crossed defensively in front of her, trying to ignore his presence. She needed to keep her focus.
Lord Onyx lounged across from her in a large chair, a drink in one hand, one leg propped over one of the arms. He allowed his gaze to rake freely over her, lingering on the curve of her neck, the swell of her hips and beyond. She could feel every pass of those green eyes as if he touched her and fought against the urge to find something to cover herself with. Those eyes saw too much and made her feel exposed, vulnerable. Finally, unable to bear his scrutiny, she snapped. "Why do you stare?"
Lord Onyx paused for a moment before replying, then gave her a charming, seductive smile. "Simply admiring the view."
Jaina felt a spark of anger in the mess her emotions were rapidly becoming and grabbed it for all she was worth. "Then would you be so kind," she said through gritted teeth, tilting her jaw imperiously, "as to stop looking at me as if I were a cocoa-caram cake with cream."
"I think you left that stage when you were fifteen," Lord Onyx stated, enjoying the blush that stained her cheeks.
Jaina had never been so embarrassed and disgusted in her life. Zekk would have died before he said something like that! she thought with a flash of pain. The realization forwarded her desire to knock some sense into her own head. How can you love him? a bratty little voice that sounded like her mother asked. He's not the boy you grew up with, which is an improvement and a handicap! "Pervert," she spat.
Lord Onyx dropped his feet to the floor and walked toward her, becoming aware, for the first time, that she was truly uncomfortable with—and perhaps a bit afraid of—his frank admiration of her beauty. An apology began to make its way through his lips before he realized it. When he did, he pursed his lips. I'm a Sith! he thought angrily. There's no reason for me to apologize to her! Swallowing the unspoken apology, he slapped her instead. "I hope, for your sake, that you never feel the need to be so blatantly insulting to me again."
She glared up at him, cheek and ego stinging from the almost unexpected slap. "I'll say what I wish," she fired back.
"Not
if you expect to last much longer, you won't." He stared down at
her for a moment, letting the threat sink in, then spun on his heel and
left, locking the door behind him.
----
Jaina's eyes closed at the sound of the door slamming shut and did not open until long after Lord Onyx was on the other side of the Imperial palace. Vaguely, she recognized the spikes of adrenaline and concentration that she was getting off him as the state a Jedi sunk into when they were sparring. Unlike a Jedi, however, she sensed the almost overpowering darkness of a Sith.
Not like Jacen, she thought, inevitably, her eyelids pricking with unshed tears at the memory of her brother. When Jacen had sparred, it was with a pure Light and determination. He had always been a much better Jedi than her. Many had taken him for an all-around goofball, who didn't know the meaning of being serious.
Jaina, however, had known differently.
At the very core, Jacen had been vulnerable, thoughtful, and one of the most compassionate beings Jaina had ever known. Whenever Jaina had been upset, Jacen was there to comfort her and tell some stupid joke to help distract her. When she was scared of the dark as a child, he had stolen a glow rod from the closet for her. When she remained afraid, he stayed nearby all night—every night—until she was able to walk through the dark, alone and unafraid. When the twins were kidnapped—a common occurrence throughout their lives—he had always been there, boosting her confidence by simply knowing she would make a successful escape plan.
And now he was gone.
Gone.
The events of the day catching up with her, she sank to the floor, silent sobs wracking her body until she was shaking like a leaf caught in a Hoth snowstorm.
"I don't blame you for crying. Look at this room! If it was a med-bay, it couldn't be more sterile." The voice, completely unexpected, startled Jaina out of her tears, and her head jerked up.
When all she saw was a blur, she rubbed her eyes viciously. Looking up again, she sighed, and gave a watery smile to the transparent form in front of her. Once, his hair had been black, and his eyes green. Now, however, he was only blue. "Hey, Kyp," she said softly.
Kyp Durron, Jedi Master, gave the last of the Solo kids a smile. "Hey, Jay."
They were quiet for a moment, then, "What—what are you doing here?" she sputtered, recovering from her shock, and brushing away the tears she had missed.
He gave her a mock hurt look. "Can't a guy pull a ghostie to comfort his honorary little sister?"
Her eyes narrowed, and she sniffled. "No."
His blue hands went to his heart, as if her words had struck a chord in his very soul. "You're killing me," the dead Jedi Master cracked.
She snorted, and, despite herself, felt a smirk climb up her face. Call it desperation to avoid the tears that were preparing to drown her. "Alright, so you came to 'comfort' me. How about if we say you've done that, so you can let me go back to my private grief now?
His teasing air vanished abruptly, and he became solemn. "No.
She blinked once, then, incredulous, repeated, " 'No'?"
He sat down on the floor across from her, legs crossed. "You're treading dangerous ground, Jaina. Bury your grief deep, or the Emperor and Lord Onyx will exploit it."
"You want me to go the rest of my life without acknowledging my grief?" she demanded sarcastically.
He shook his head. "There is a time to fight, and a time to grieve. In a perfect world, the latter would be now, but you must fight for some time before you can grieve."
"So, basically, you want me to be a droid," she stated flatly.
"The Sith will try to turn you," he said seriously. "You're at your most vulnerable right now."
"I'm a Jedi," she muttered. "I won't turn."
"Don't let arrogance sneak up on you, Jaina," Kyp warned, clearly remembering how she had reacted to Anakin's death. "The Dark side is easier, and far more seductive, than the Light."
She gave him half of a wobbly grin. "You don't need to tell me all this, Kyp. I've been there; I know as well as anyone that the Light is more fulfilling."
His face was grave. "Remember your words, Jaina. They can save you."
Rolling her eyes, she nodded, and wrapped her arms around her torso, as if trying to protect herself from an inner chill. "Anything else?"
He hesitated. "You're not going to want to hear this—"
She found the strength to tease him. "When do I ever want to hear anything you have to say?"
Kyp's ironic grin echoed her own. "True."
She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm waiting…"
"Even deeper than your grief, you must bury one thing—your love for Zekk."
Her eyes shuttered. "Why should I? Zekk's gone."
"If you've accepted the fact that Zekk is gone, and he is now Lord Onyx, never to change—and I know you haven't, or you would have willed yourself to die, rather than be the slave to a Sith—then let your love die for him as well."
"Let me guess," she said sarcastically. "Onyx would exploit that, too."
"Yes…but not in the way you think. You've seen the way Onyx looks at you. You're not so innocent to think that he might not act on it someday. But it's the Emperor from whom you need to hide your emotions. He will use them against not only you, but Onyx."
"But if Onyx is—"
"So Dark, why should he care?" he finished for her. Debating whether or not to say it, Kyp was quiet for a moment. Then, "If he has a weakness, Jay, it's you."
Jaina's spine straightened, and her eyes widened in shock. "Then he can be redeemed?" she asked excitedly. "A Sith can't care about someone and not have traces of Light—"
Kyp raised a hand in an effort to still her. "Jaina – Jaina, stop." She quieted, but the excited gleam did not leave her eyes. For years she had held onto this, for years she had hoped, and, now, to have it confirmed…!
He saw the joy in her eyes. "Yes, you've had reason to cling to hope but—even though he's vulnerable, right now, you are even more so. Let yourself heal before you chase after Darkness."
Biting her bottom lip, she gave the Jedi Master a pleading look.
"Jaina, I'm serious. Interact with the Sith as little as possible – while you're healing, especially."
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and gave him a sour look. "Fine. Whatever. But when you wonder why I don't like to hear from you, remember this conversation."
"Sure, but only if you understand when I tell you that I hate talking to you."
Although she thought her face would crack in two from the action, Jaina smirked. "That's what all my old baby-sitters say."
Kyp loosed a snicker. "What – do you actually expect people who had to put up with your Force-tantrums to be happy around you?"
"I never had a Force tantrum with you around. You always cut Jacen and me off from the Force when you baby-sat—"
"With my superior Force powers," he inserted cockily.
"With ysalamiri," she corrected. "So Jacen and I tied a ysalamiri to your back and then locked you in the 'fresher."
"But then Jacen opened the door and let me out because he had to 'go'," he finished.
She groaned. "He always did find a way to spoil my brilliant pranks. Whether it was because he had a weak bladder or—" She stopped mid-sentence as she felt a Dark presence that she recognized with eerie ease. "He's coming back."
Kyp gave her a sympathetic look. "Be strong, Jaina, and remember what I told you."
"Kyp," she pleaded, for what she didn't know, but he seemed to.
"I'll be around," he promised, "but things will get worse before they get better. May the Force be with you."
"But Kyp—" Before she could complete her sentence, the door whizzed open, and Kyp disappeared, leaving her alone with Lord Onyx.
----
Officially, Lord Onyx was his lightsaber hilt, but out of the corner of his eye he watched as Jaina meditated. Although more guarded, her thoughts and emotions were just as chaotic as when she had started.
When he had returned from his sparring, the brunette had barely looked at him before entering a heavy meditation. Her cheeks had been flushed; her eyes pink and puffy from crying, causing him to frown but otherwise ignore it. Through their bond, he could feel her swirling emotions—anger, grief, determination, and an underlying emotion that floated just out of the corner of his eye, taunting him for his inability to recognize it.
When he reached out in a mental attempt to better understand the sentiment, Jaina's shields, as fiery as her temper, knocked him out of her mind. The action told him better than any words that she would guard this emotion fiercely, as it was private and important to her. I will have to tell the Lord Emperor of this, he thought before his pride rose up in protest. Jaina is mine, he argued silently but savagely. She is mine to turn, and mine to do with as I wish.
Then why haven't you done anything about it? a particularly obnoxious part of his mind asked. She is your slave—why not do with her as you wish? Why not do what you have desired to do for the past four years?
Lord Onyx pushed the thought away, unsettled. The voice's inquiries were not to be thrown aside so easily, though. Why didn't he take her? Force knew, once he gave her the Force-suppressing drug, he would be able to overpower her easily. Yet, for some reason, the very thought of taking her against her will did not sit well with him at all.
Probably, he acknowledged angrily, it's Zekk making his blasted presence – and softness – known.
Onyx growled deep in his throat and moved so that his eyes were focused solely on the reason of his uncertainty, his lightsaber forgotten. It did not take long for him to lose himself in her beauty. Nor, he noticed, did it take Jaina long to notice his stare, even in her meditative state from which she shook off with practiced ease.
"Did we not talk about how you stare at me, Onyx?" Jaina asked, the fragile peace she had gathered in meditation now leaving her like carbon dioxide in an outward breath.
He cocked a dark brow. "Did we not also talk of how, at fifteen, you passed the stage where I could even possibly ignore your beauty?"
Jaina's cheeks grew hotter and hotter each second his gaze continued to stay on her body. "I am not food, water, heat or air, Onyx, and I would appreciate it if you acted as such," she gritted out.
He admired her for several more minutes, until she was certain she couldn't take it anymore. Then, his eyes met with hers. That connection was even more unnerving, but somewhat safer—at this point, anyway, when all he could read in her eyes was her discomfort.
When his green eyes left hers—and her body—indefinitely, Jaina gave a silent sigh of relief. She knew his lustful scrutiny would be back, but for now she had been given a reprieve, for which she was very grateful, even as her eyes began to droop, and everything caught up with her.
Without looking at her, Onyx gestured to a door to the left of his bedchamber. "You will sleep in there. Some clothing, sleepware and other such items are in the closet."
Swallowing at the thought of being so close to Lord Onyx's bedchamber during the night as she slept, vulnerable, she nevertheless mumbled a "thank you" and walked to it quickly.
"There is a lock on either side," he added, just as she began to step into the room. "You may use the inside lock, but keep in mind that, while many won't be able to get in when you do so, I will."
Taking in the threat – or was it a warning? – Jaina walked through the door, letting it whiz shut behind her.
The room, while small compared to the rest of Onyx's quarters, was spacious and tidy, but almost oppressive in the black and blood red decorating. There was a small window to the left, but Onyx's quarters were on the seventh floor of the Palace, so it would be no use in escaping, even if she could fit through it. The blanket on her cot—a very thin blanket, she noted—was red, and the almost transparent sheets were black.
Pulling her by now ratted, messy hair out of its braid, she went to the closet and opened it. Every item was black, with the exception of an occasional red item. As if the place wasn't oppressive enough already. No wonder every Force-sensitive in the Imperial Palace became – and stayed – Sith. There was no colour to cheer them up. It certainly didn't help her mood that she was in a room that could almost be a funeral location.
"They need to fire their interior decorator," she muttered. Then, after a pause, she added, "And their fashion consultant."
Sighing, she plunged a hand into the closet and selected an item at random before changing into it. She barely spared it a glance before settling onto the bed, her posture as relaxed as possible under the circumstances. Lord Onyx's stare had brought her out of her meditation sooner than she'd planned, not that it had been very successful.
Taking a deep breath, she sunk into the Force and spread her awareness outward. First, she concentrated on Onyx – who seemed far more anxious and confused than a Sith lord should, she noticed with a spark of desperate hope – and then moved on to one of the Emperor's Guards, on the other side of the Palace. She reached out even more and sensed the minds and lives of the billions of beings on Coruscant.
Further, she reached, looking for the trail a bond left behind. Come on, Mother, just once be there when I need you! she half pleaded, half growled in frustration as her search proved fruitless. Deciding upon another, easier – but far more painful – way to find her mother, Jaina withdrew into herself, into her very being.
At first, only shallow bonds showed themselves—bonds with a few Jedi students or childhood playmates she had long since left behind. Then her bond with Lusa—shadowed because of the self-inflicted isolation the centaur girl had hidden herself in since Raynar's death. Still more bonds floated by Jaina, many still screaming in agony from the death of the being on the other end. Others were carefully concealed, for their protection, should a Dark Jedi get past her shields and prey on her mind. Still others were frayed, but none were the bond she shared with her mother and Jaina's mouth twitched in a frown. Odd, she thought. I'm sure Mother's bond should be here… But it wasn't, and Jaina steeled herself for the inevitable pain she was headed for.
Straightening her spine, Jaina moved past the "middle-man bonds" and to her very core…
…and into a maelstrom, the very definition of chaos swirling around her. Her core was not nearly as pure and full as it had been even a day before – just one of the many consequences Jacen's death had left for Jaina. The twin relationship had gone beyond a bond, until they were literally one. With Jacen dead… She shut down that thought in a hurry, and turned to see her soul-bonds.
The bond she had shared with Anakin, now cut, streaked around the core of her being, searching – as all bonds with the dead did – for its other half, still unable even to scream from the agony.
The bonds she had shared with her uncle Luke and aunt Mara were also there, floating, searching for a support to which they could attach themselves.
Her bond with Kyp – all but one, thin strand cut, more painful even than Mara's death, and nearly as excruciating as Anakin's.
Her bond with her father, strong but one-sided as he wasn't Force-sensitive. She stroked it once, revelling in the comfort he always brought her, the understanding he—unlike her mother—had given her as a child, and then as an adult.
But her mother wasn't there, and when Jaina tried to find her through Han, she found nothing. Her heart squeezed in the pain of finding another loved one gone. Why hadn't she felt Leia's death? No matter their arguments and differences, she should have felt it when her mother vanished from this plane. Why—
And then she was distracted by a faint glimmer out of the corner of her perception. Turning, she saw the frayed remnants of a bond. Frayed, she noted—not cut.
Floating over, she studied the wildly grasping threads. They looked like… No, Jaina argued frantically. Mother wouldn't—couldn't—have done that…
But, Jaina realized in horror, she had.
Jaina jolted out of her heavy meditation, sweating heavily, her heart and soul aching. Tears spilled onto her cheeks and, even as she pushed them away, new ones replaced them. Crawling under the blankets, she buried her face into the pillow. Even as she forced herself to sleep, her thoughts swirled, only one thought—the very one that hurt more than she could have imagined—irrefutable:
Her mother, Princess Leia Organa Solo, voice of compassion in the one-time New Republic's senate, Jedi and Rebellion hero, had turned her back on her daughter in her most desperate time of need, and cut their bond.
Jaina was truly alone.
----
Please R&R!
-Tjz