Terin: Thanks! And Leia and Jaina will definitely be having a talk, whether Jaina lives or not. Btw, who said Jaina's coming home? –smirks-

Jaina-Elessar: Don't you love cliffies? Aren't they fun? -grins- Here's the next post, as begged ;)

Chapter Thirteen: Redemption

For a moment, everyone was too stunned to move. Then another boulder fell, this time between Brakiss and the others, and Zekk rushed to Jaina's side. Gingerly, desperately, he held her close, afraid of injuring her further, but too distraught by the idea of her death to do otherwise.

"J-Jay?" he whispered brokenly.

Her eyes opened so slowly that he almost wondered if glue covered her irises. "Zekk…" she breathed, blood dribbling from her mouth, down her neck, her gaze erratic as it tried to find him. Her face was becoming increasingly pale as the Force came for her, as it had all the other Solo children.

His throat and mouth worked desperately, attempting to find the words…and coming up with a blank every time. "It's me," he replied finally, trying to swallow the dust that covered his tongue.

Her smile was the shadow of an echo of her grin, but real—radiant, even. "I—knew it," she whispered, her eyes full of an eerie light even as she choked and gurgled on her dark blood. "Love…you…"

Neither noticed Sanar, who was crawling toward them, with very real worry in her eyes until, hoarsely, she told Zekk, "You'd better—it might be the last—"

He cut the slave off before he had to hear her words. "Jay—I—I love you—so much—please—"

Jaina's right hand moved a little, as if she wanted to touch him in comfort, but it fell back after only a second. "I knnnnn…oh…"

"Jaina…don't—please—don't do this…"

The only response he received was a weak string of Light healing straight to his heart.

I'm sorry, Zekk; this is the only way. Her last message was so weak that Zekk had to strain to hear it, and then…with a harsh cutting of her own life force, she was gone.

Sanar watched, frozen, as Solo's body—almost identical to her own—lost all strength, and the Jedi's head lolled back in death. Desperate and unwilling to see someone so young—younger even than Clayra—die, Sanar reached out and grabbed Jaina's fading soul, and held on for all her worth.

It wouldn't last long, she knew, especially since the body had willed itself to die (kriffing heroes – always have to sacrifice everything to make sure it'll work) but maybe… Sanar stole Solo's limp body from Zekk's unresisting, stunned arms, and held the younger woman close, shutting her eyes, the soul-deep exhaustion coming upon her already.

I need your help, Solo. Grab on, and keep holding on. Please…if you go, I go. It's that simple—and I'm not a hero, Solo; I am not dying for you!

Sanar took a deep breath, and began to form a bond with the Jedi.

With his piercing emerald eyes, excellent fighting skills, and knowledge of the Force, Zekk would be a formidable opponent to anyone who crossed him.
-Jedi Bounty, by Kevin J. Anderson and Rebecca Moesta

Zekk blinked at Jaina's lifeless form in shock and grief. Nononononono… She couldn't be dead, not after everything. She. Couldn't. Be. It wasn't possible. It would be far too cruel of the Force to steal her just when he escaped—just when they were so close…

He was barely aware of someone taking Jaina's—oh stars!—corpse from him. He didn't resist. Though he wanted to hold her forever, he knew it didn't matter now. Nothing did. It doesn't matter anymore. For the first time since his parents' deaths, Zekk wanted to literally run away and lock himself up in his room, and find some way to forget.

You've run too much already, Zekk.

His hand dropped and clunked on a metal cylinder. His tear-filled eyes found Onyx's lightsaber. For a moment, he only stared, unable to believe that such a small thing could have destroyed so much.

For power, Zekk had turned his back on the Solo twins' friendship and beliefs, Peckhum's respect, control over his own existence. And the price had been Jaina's life.

But it can fix just as much, he thought savagely, as if his words could will it to be so. He grabbed and ignited the blade, just as Brakiss came back for more. Sanar started at the snap-hiss, but slumped back over Jaina's form just as quickly. Zekk ignored her.

It was time to return Brakiss' treatment of his Darkest Knight's naïve trust.

She was swimming in the river again, back on Yavin 4, and she couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed. She could just fall back and let go…let it all go for the first time in years, as the water trickled over and around her, taking all the old wounds away. When she heard laughter and splashes of water, she stood and turned around.

On the bank were Jacen, Anakin, Tahiri and Raynar, chasing each other like the kids they had been—or should have been—before their… What was it called? She searched her mind for the word only briefly, then lazily gave up. It had been a word—an idea—that had scared her…once upon a time…she thought, but wasn't sure.

It doesn't matter anymore.

She nodded, pleased with the idea. "It doesn't matter anymore," she echoed, smiling faintly…

Sanar thought of transferring the bond to Onyx—or whoever he had transformed into—but the briefest mind touch opened her to a raw, savage grief and hatred that the on-again, off-again seer knew Solo wouldn't survive.

So she lived with Solo's troubles.

Sanar could have let go—should have, even, considering how quickly her strength was waning. Instead, she anchored Solo's life force to her own, and opened her mind, taking Solo deeper and deeper—the girl's only hope of survival.

As she saw everything Solo had lived, fought and died for, she knew Solo could see the same for her.

Sanar had never felt so naked, so vulnerable, but still she held on, and tried to lessen Solo's inevitable pain.

For a moment, ugly visions bombarded her, making her weak, and pulling her under the water. They arched along her spine, making her cry out, and shattering her peace. But then something pushed them away, as if the wave was only a thick blanket that tried to stifle her. Vaguely, she thanked the protective force…or she hoped she did, since something was nagging her, making it important. She brushed away the desire to say, "Whatever, Mother."

The happy chatting on the shore drew her attention once again, and she smiled. She kicked against the sand beneath her feet, and began to walk toward them. For a few steps, it worked, but…

There was something trying to hold her back from the shore. In confusion, she looked down at her waist, as if expecting to find arms wrapped around her waist. Instead, she spotted a red-violet substance that floated directly around her body before leading down into the sand.

When she tried to grab the rope, it slid through her fingers and she shivered as her hand became engulfed in flames and then froze. The sensation shocked her skin and for a moment she thought she sank a little into the sand. She stilled, but when nothing more happened, she shrugged and turned back to the "rope". Becoming frustrated with the ineffectiveness of her fingers, she plunged into the river, hoping to get a better look…

Further and harder, Zekk pushed Brakiss back. His destination for the treacherous emperor wasn't clearly defined yet, but the balcony looked like as good as any place to dump a soon-to-be-very-dead emperor over.

Brakiss was beginning to see the murder in Zekk's eyes, and fear was finding its way into his veins. "Didn't I treat you just like a son?" the emperor tried desperately. "I gave you everything you wanted—don't deny it!"

Zekk landed a vicious blow to Brakiss' shoulder. "You twisted it," he argued, though he knew it was one of the two things Brakiss probably wanted. "And led me to Onyx and my prison," he continued furiously.

Brakiss faltered for a moment, and Zekk realized that Brakiss hadn't felt Onyx disappear. He hadn't…

Oh Sith.

Brakiss hadn't felt a difference between Onyx and Zekk. There wasn't a difference between Onyx and Zekk—at least, not enough.

Onyx was a Sith. Zekk was the Dark Jedi that created Onyx.

Zekk stumbled back, put off-balance by the discovery of his self-righteous attitude. Just the same, hey, Ennth? Always chasing after things you can't have, turning your back on the things you need, and hiding behind your "Onyx made me do it" attitude when you realize what you've done. What in the galaxy did Jaina see in you, anyway? Did she like the colour of the river of denial?

Brakiss took advantage of Zekk's distraction to attack once more, and though the younger man defended himself, each movement was a battle as his heart left the battle. It was pure luck that Zekk's lunge—sloppy and wild—made contact with the already loose throne. The extravagant, skeletal seat toppled onto its owner, sending Brakiss to tumble out of the nearby window.

Both Zekk and Sanar (who had managed to come out of her stupor long enough to hear the shattering glass) started. While Sanar drooped back over her look-alike, Zekk numbly moved to the window and looked out. A cloud of dust obscured what would have been Brakiss' point of contact.

The dark-haired man searched for even a flicker of remorse at Brakiss' death within himself, but he couldn't find it. The emperor had long been unmasked. Nothing remained of the Brakiss that Zekk had believed in as a child. Nothing…

A cry escaped him, and he all but collapsed against the wall.

There was nothing left of Brakiss—just as with Jacen, Anakin, Master Skywalker, and all the Jedi he had killed or sentenced to death, and…Jaina.

A hand on his shoulder made him start, and when he looked up, his eyes found the weary, struggling face of someone who looked eerily like Jaina, but older…harder. "What do you want?" he croaked, not caring that she—or anyone—could see him blubbering like a baby.

She slumped against the wall, as if it took all her strength to keep going on. Physical exhaustion clung to her like a leech. "What's my name?" she demanded, even as she looked like she was going to be physically ill.

He frowned, taken aback and momentarily distracted. When he realized that she was serious, he searched his mind. "Sa—Sanar?"

Her eyes closed and she swayed frightening, until he thought she would faint. Instead, she sank to the floor. "It might not be too late," she said in her faltering voice. "I—I think I can—bring her back. But I'll…" she shuddered, "need your help."

He stared at her, dumb with astonishment.

She held out her hand, and grasped it as tightly as she could. "Bond with me."

Under the water, things became a little clearer. The rope resisted all her frustrated yanks, though it was looking increasingly strained. As she watched, however, a wiry tendril of deep, emerald green twirled around the strained cord and grabbed hold of her waist. She gawked at it, at the possessive way it held onto her, refusing to let her go up for air.

Spotting what could be the root of her problem, she bent, and pulled on the entwined cords (though the red was becoming fainter). They resisted, even when she whacked them. As she glared at them, she became aware of the tiny, insignificant detail that she was underwater—had been for some time—and her lungs weren't bursting.

In confusion, she glanced around. Funny, she thought, this was not what she had imagined death would be like.

Wait—death?

She froze. Ohhhhhhhhh Sith, she thought. I'm dead and rotting? Not good! Why hasn't the Solo luck kicked in yet?

Solo luck.

She racked her brains, searching for where she had gotten that idea—"Solo luck". An eerie echo of laughter slid into the water, and reached her ears.

Anakin—Jacen—they were Solos—her brothers.

Who was she?

Even as she tried to find the answer, she felt her feet sink into the sand.

Jaina—your name is Jaina Solo, a voice whispered urgently.

Perplexed, Jaina struggled against the cords, which were pulling her down…down…down into the sand. Already her knees were past the gritty surface, and all she felt below her thighs was pain. Uncomfortable, hideous, grating pain.

She tried to fight against the cords and the sand both. I don't want to go! Don't make me! Anakin and Jacen…

The red faltered just a little, as if it could identity with her plea, but the green only continued on more forcefully. Jaina, it's not… C'mon, don't do this, please.

I'm Jaina Solo; Jacen and Anakin are my brothers—and we're all dead.

Dead…why does that make me so mad?

The red cord's indecision was a thing of the past. Solo…don't you dare let go, got that? I'm hanging on here, too, you know and, personally, I'd like to live!

She felt a smirk creep onto her face. That's Sanar for you, she mused. Saves your life one minute, smacks you the next…

Wait, Sanar?

Yep, it's me, and if you don't just let yourself sink into that """sand""" of yours, I'm gonna wring your pretty little neck!

She stared at the red cord with so much bewilderment that it took her a moment to realize her hips had disappeared into the sand. She panicked, and struggled against the pull, thrashing wildly as she tried to get up to the surface of the water.

Why don't you want to go? a voice queried.

Hurts… she moaned.

That's life.

The word "life" shot sparks through her blood and she almost felt like plunging into the sand at the mere idea. Sensing her changing mind, the green strand tightened reassuringly around her, and part of her relaxed.

Come back, Jaina, it whispered, the voice incredibly familiar. I love you.

Her head disappeared into the sand.

And there was pain.

There is an old Jedi legend that if two Force-sensitive lovers bond within the River, which separates life and death, they will be bound together as one for eternity. Lesser degrees of this incredible bond are formed through the deep, enduring love of two Jedi, or even two non-Force sensitive beings. However, these "lesser" bonds can fade if they are improperly tended.

A bond forged in the River of Life and Death can never be broken, even if the lovers part ways and claim hatred for the other. It may fade, become smaller, but it will always be there, with its same strength, ready to be taken up once more—because, once, one risked enough to plunge into their own death in order to save the other, and that is the greatest sacrifice of all.

When Jaina screamed, Zekk's heart stopped. He wanted to cover his ears, but found he couldn't. It rang within his heart and mind—not a physical scream, but one through the Force. "She's in pain!" he exclaimed, staring at Jaina's jerking body.

Sanar probably meant that weak sound to be a snort. "You're so naïve," she muttered. "Ever heard of the saying, 'life is pain'? Never a truer phrase."

"I didn't know she'd be hurt!" he snapped. "Not like this, anyway," he added a little sheepishly. It would do no good to yell at Sanar—if not for her, Jaina wouldn't even be alive. But still…

Sanar's eyes were beginning to droop. "Life's fire is pouring into her blood again, battling back the ice of death. Every part of her is melting in a way it doesn't want to; she was dead, and she accepted it—wanted it, even, I guess, considering she was the one to cut her life force. She could have been with her dead loved ones again, and it's never easy to turn that chance down. Her body closed down, but now life is screeching through her veins like lava, forcing closed passageways to reopen. It's not pain, it's hell—but she'll live."

"So you say," he muttered, eyeing Jaina worriedly. Her screams dimmed to moans, and then to silence.

Sanar perked up a little; colour returned to her skin and her eyes grew brighter. "You need to go now," she commanded Zekk, her voice almost normal again.

He looked up at her sharply. "But Jaina—"

"She's sleeping—and she will continue to do so for some time. You killed an emperor, Zekk; the aftermath of the attack has stemmed suspicion, but someone's going to remember to check the throne room eventually. Bonds can exist even in the Dark side, I assure you." Her chocolate eyes were grim.

"You'll have to carry her, of course," she continued, beginning to stand. She leaned only a little against the wall. "Use the servants' routes—I'm assuming you remember your way around?"

He had to search his mind for a moment, but he found the memories he needed, and nodded. Carefully, he positioned Jaina his arms, and stood.

Sanar watched the movement with just the smallest hint of strangeness on her pretty, tired face. "Do you have a ship?" she asked quietly, staring at Jaina.

He shifted. "Onyx—I," he corrected, "have a cruiser, if the docking bay wasn't bombed."

She nodded briskly, appearing to push aside her reaction to whatever had made her weird out. Zekk wasn't really paying attention to her. "They'll be here in a minute." When he didn't move, she scowled. "Oh honestly, get lost. You heroes are so damn annoying, you know that?"

He reddened a little. "What about you?"

She waved a hand dismissively and made her way to the window where Brakiss had fallen. "Don't worry about me. That's always been my job." She smiled, as if to reassure him, but it was unsuccessful.

"If you ever need help—"

Her eyes rolled in sarcasm. "Oh, yes, I know. Anything I want, because with Solo around you're allowed to be all sappy, right? Get out before I barf."

He blinked, put off by her sudden mood swing, but left.

Or—she thought with a sigh—he almost did. He just had to turn around one last time and say, "Thank you, Sanar. I'll never forget this."

She growled. "Whatever. Have fun with her family!" She brightened at the mere idea.

He sighed and left, just like she had expected—just like all the heroes who lived in a happy-ending fairy tale.

And Sanar waited.

Sanar was surprised to see that her brother—his handsome, aristocratic face ravaged, and a mad glint in his eyes—was the one to burst through the doors (not as successfully as Onyx, but then, that was a matter of opinion) fifteen minutes later. If she guessed rightly, he was about to yell for his master, and cry about his boo-boos before he saw her.

The sight of his "niftyax sister" was more than enough to make him to remember his arrogance. "You!" he snarled.

"The Emperor's down there," she said smoothly, ignoring his hatred.

He growled; how could she always be so blasé about every larifx thing? She knew how he hated it!

"That's the point," she returned smugly.

He glared at her a moment before processing what she'd just said. "The emperor's what?"

She smiled sweetly. "Down there." She pointed at the ground, where the crumpled black form of the (late?) emperor rested. Devnos ran to her side and looked down with wide eyes. "Who knows," she said earnestly, "if you really hurry, the med-team might be able to save his stinking hide." She paused, then sent her ringer. "Unfortunately, your face is probably a lost cause."

She could almost see the slap that waited in his hand. But his anger disappeared into horror. "You didn't—"

"Of course I didn't kill him," she replied simply, maintaining her calm façade. "Lord Onyx did."

He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. Her anger flared, but she hid it. "Where'd they go, niftyax?"

She tsk-ed. "Now, now, is that anyway to treat your sister, and your only chance of redeeming your complete ineptitude in the eyes of your potentially salvageable emperor?"

He growled. "Sanar, I can make your life very, very miserable."

"Well now, let me think," she said, ignoring him and tapping her forefinger to her chin. "It's so hard to remember…me being a stupid, air-headed bimbo of a niftyax and all…"

This time, he shook her until her teeth rattled, and Sanar's temper pushed her cards, as he had probably known it would. "You don't have to be so mean," she scowled ill-temperedly. "They ran off—down the emperor's stairways—his secret ones," she explained, nodding pointedly at the tapestry that hung behind what remained of the emperor's throne.

His eyes narrowed. "And they let you stay."

She smirked. "Onyx had his hands full."

"With…?" Devnos demanded.

She pulled out of his grip and sprawled across the charred steps to the emperor's throne. "Oh, with that girl he's so taken with. She got in the way, you know. It's disgusting; he wouldn't let her go, even though I give her a few days 'til she's dead." Sanar snorted.

He continued to evaluate her with his eyes. Finally, he relented. "Stay here; I'm getting the emperor. If you so much as move…"

She sighed, bored. "I know, I know. You'll sell me to Horaire's brother, or something."

He glowered, but ran out the door, and Sanar finally relaxed.

"Brave of you," Durron's voice remarked from behind her.

She was too tired to snap at him. Turning her back on her mother, living through a Rebel attack, watching a soul duel, saving Solo's life, and lying to Devnos, was more than usually fit into her schedule. "What was it you said about that redemption trash?" she murmured, staring at the servants' exit.

Durron clomped down the stairs (odd, really, how he could still clomp…) and sat down next to her. She cringed away, but only a little, and just out of habit.

"Everyone has a shot at redemption," he repeated gently, as if he actually believed what he was saying. "You just have to reach out and grab it, before it's gone."

She sighed, let the words wash over her. For a brief moment, she let herself forget who she was dealing with, and what she had done. "If there is such a thing, then let me find my redemption," she whispered. "Force knows I need it."

And then, even though it was a sign of weakness, Sanar wept.

Epilogue coming up very shortly. Please R&R!

-Tjz