Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.

Note: Apologies for the cliffhanger last time! Here is the next chapter for you. Thanks, as always, to my reviewers, readers and subscribers alike! And a big thank you to Liisiko who has been such an amazing help throughout this whole thing! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

CHAPTER 16 - Evanescent

Location: Selonia / XF-32

Galen's entrance was a spectacle to be feared.

The doorway warped under the pressure of the Force building around him; screeching and flexing in ways that dense metal should not. The floor dented beneath his boots as he leapt, bringing back both arms and pouring the power into them.

He saw the band of blue in the dark. Saw the green extinguish. Saw the Sith turn to stare at him; his eyes twin beacons in the darkness.

He felt Kota's life leaving him.

"No!" The word was brutally ripped from him.

His arms came forwards, bringing the power with them. It was crushing energy, filled with all his rage and pain; surging forwards at an untraceable speed. It struck the dark clone with bone-shattering force, propelling him viciously backwards against the ship. The metal that struck him split like the skin of an overripe fruit, the jagged edges holding him tight.

Holding him prisoner.

Preventing escape.

The path of that energy had bowed the floor; anything in its way now blasted clear.

Galen's fingers itched to curl around the Sith's throat. Choke the life out of him. Listen to him hiss and gargle as the strength left him.

Galen ground his teeth and took a menacing step forwards; his breathing hoarse and ragged.

With the sabers now extinguished, the room was in full darkness save the grey light creeping in through the newly created tear. It was poor, though, and certainly not good enough to be able to see the fear in the Sith's eyes as he died.

That would need to be fixed.

His right arm drew up and the energy flowed with it, reaching across the expanse and punching a gouging hole in the side of the ship. Light and rain – hammering against the exposed flooring – poured in. His eyes – narrowed in concentration – watched as the great sheets of the ship's skin were peeled back away from the frame, revealing more and more of the sky. He could hear the horrible pop of joints and bolts bursting under pressure. It should have been difficult but it wasn't.

And then he felt the rain, too. Thick, heavy drops that battered with an unrelenting fury; mirroring the emotions inside of him.

A gathering storm; thick, destructive, hateful.

His eyes lashed across to where the clone struggled feebly in his metal prison and he took another step, manipulating the metal prongs to curl further into the Sith's flesh. This would be easy. Far too easy. It was disappointing, in a way, to see the other so weak and—

—What was that?

Galen's head snapped around so fast it was a wonder he didn't break his own neck. And there, only a few strides away, was the trigger for his anger. Except that the old man was trying to get to his feet when he should have been fading away.

Still he tried. Still he fought on.

And strangely, Galen was frozen in place, caught in the conflict of the gale of emotions inside of him.

The elderly Jedi tried to get leverage by balancing on his elbow, but the pain seemed too much for even him to bear. He released a hissing breath between clenched teeth, spraying the rain that had gathered in his mouth.

"Stop this, boy."

Still he was frozen.

"You don't want to go back down that path. Not again."

His eyes, instinctively, snapped back to the Sith. He had ceased his struggling and their eyes met with a crackle of energy. Galen felt his anger elevate and physically had to take a step back to try and separate himself from that emotion.

Anger leads to the…

"You have the power to defeat him without hate."

Galen closed his eyes, drawing in a breath, and sought the calm presence; rekindled the memory of the waves against the shore. Could he defeat the clone without hate? Had he ever defeated anyone without that emotion driving him?

"You cannot defeat me!" The Sith raged. "Do you hear me?"

And then Galen was at Kota's side, easing him carefully up into a sitting position.

"What's the damage?" He asked quietly.

"I stopped keeping record." The older man retorted. And then his repartee ended and his face became rueful. "It's not good."

"I shouldn't have let you go. I knew this was going to happen. Why don't you listen? You never listen. Was this your plan all along?"

"No one knew anything, boy." He snorted. "And I didn't get this far by...by turning away at the first sign of trouble."

"You're too reckless."

"Huh, speak for yourself." His head listed and Galen grabbed his shoulder, giving him a shake to bring him back around.

"Stay with me, Kota."

"Listen." The old man brushed him off, irritably. "Listen to me. That clone. My theory…it might not have been so bad."

"What? Look, forget about that. Can you stand?"

Kota's reply was stalled, his mind seeming to grow distant for a moment. Then, quite suddenly, the lucidness returned and he continued as if Galen had never even spoken. "He remembers."

"I don't—"

"—Let me finish. I mean exactly what I said. He remembers. He has your memories."

Galen swallowed.

"But they have driven him mad."

"Then why haven't I had any side effects?"

Kota said nothing, but even the silence was enough to get his message across.

"No." Galen refused. "We've already gone over this. It's not possible. I am a—"

"—It doesn't matter." Kota lowered his voice, his grip at Galen's elbow suddenly fierce. "They can be used against him. Bring the past back to him. Bring him—bring him despair. His anger and hate twisted him. Use what you have learned to keep yourself from falling. I know you can do it."

Galen bowed his head and saw the dark pool of blood seeping around his boots, pocked with the rain.

He knew how this was going to end.

"Kota, I—"

A sudden explosion ruptured through the structure, rattling the floor violently beneath them. Galen leapt back to his feet, saber snapping into his waiting hand.

The clone had freed himself from his prison and was stepping back towards the split hull, his heels touching air. The last remaining soldier was held pinned in front of him; the Sith's saber hovering portentously.

"Caring is a weakness." The clone hissed and, with a laugh, he sliced the neck of the wounded soldier and leaped to safety.

Galen's fury ignited instantly.

"Boy!"

"I won't let him get away with this!" He turned to meet Kota's eyes and immediately regretted it. He was deathly white, his face pinched with pain.

Keep yourself from falling.

The elderly Jedi drew in a shaky breath. "Then go after him."

"Not without you, I'm not."

The old man gave an amused snort. "Don't be ridiculous." He tipped his head, gesturing. "Go. Don't let him get away. If he's…smart, he'll make for the shuttle."

But that meant… "I need to warn Juno!"

"Contact…" Kota's brow furrowed with pain. "Giles…get the ship away."

"I can't. My com-link is broken."

Kota's hand tried, and failed to seek the com-link at his belt. The remaining fingers on his injured hand twitched but refused to do any more. "Take mine, boy."

Galen knelt to retrieve it.

"My saber, too."

"Wh—"

"—Stop arguing and take it. I'm not going to need it anymore."

Galen faltered, his expression portraying clearly what words could not. What was he supposed to do? Just leave the old general here alone in the rain? This man who had taught him so much. Who had given him a purpose. Who had shown him what it was to have a father. A horrible, clenching pain started in his chest and then the sheathed, green saber – and the com-link – was in his hand.

"Kota…I…" The words caught. He'd never been good at expressing himself.

Kota's head tipped back, his arms resting down against the floor; palms up, collecting the rain in his cupped hands.

"It'll all be alright, boy. You'll see."

"I…" Speak, he urged himself, speak! "Thank you—for everything."

"One day…one day there will be peace." Kota whispered; his voice hoarse. "And when there is, you and Juno…you will have earned it."

"I'll…I'll come back for you."

Kota gave him a wry, weary smile and lifted his head skyward.

There was no pain. No regret. In fact, lying there under the steely sky, bathed in rain, he felt utterly content. The sound of Galen's fading footsteps only briefly marred the sound of rain. There was a pause – the boy turning back as if to change his mind. Kota tried to urge him to go, but words were beyond him. Thankfully, a moment later, and Galen was away; outside of the ship and hastening after the runaway clone.

And then he was truly alone, or as alone as any Jedi could be, surrounded by the Force.

There was no feeling in his limbs now, his hands and feet refusing to obey orders from his rapidly fading consciousness. So, instead, he thought of his past; of a war-torn home he had not seen in many, many years. Of a Padawan and many a friend long dead upon the instigation of Order 66. And then, of an unexpected turn in his life where he, a cantankerous old Jedi, had aided in shining light on a path where there had been no light to find.

Life was an evanescent thing, but short or not, he had certainly not gone down without a fight.

And then even thinking became too much of an effort.

It'll be alright. It will all be alright.

Galen used the twisted metal to form his route up to the top of the ship; scrambling up the hull by any means possible. Water sluiced across the battered sides of the old Star Destroyer, its uneven surface allowing him to get just enough purchase to climb.

The com-link was clenched between his teeth as he ascended, almost blinded by the persistent fall of rain.

"Juno?" He called her name through gritted teeth. "Juno!"

A garbled response came twinned with an irritating buzzing.

"Juno, if you can hear me, you need to get away. You need to—" His warning came to a premature end.

An icy, expanding dread washed over him; a flare of sudden and indescribable loss. It pulsed dully, like an old wound, not painful but…but cold. Just cold. His step faltered, an open hand pressed flat over his chest as he strained to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. And, for the briefest of moments, he found himself listing to the side, his head swimming.

Kota was dead.

The moment passed, the light-headed sensation receding until only the dull pang of grief remained.

Kota was dead.

Juno's voice raised above the clatter of rain. She'd didn't know. Had no way of knowing. She was saying something to him. Something about his well being. Something about him using Kota's frequency. Simple enough questions, maybe, except that he didn't know how he was and he didn't want to explain why he was using Kota's com-link.

Kota was dead.

"The clone, Juno." He wheezed instead. "You need to get the ship away from here."

"I'm not leaving you again."

She was being stubborn at the worst possible time. Fear of losing her. Of watching the Rogue Shadow being torn from the sky; crushing her to death. Amplified by his grief, it became anger and he interrupted her.

"I'm not arguing with you. Go!"

"If I leave, you might—wait. Something's wrong."

He used the Force to help him clear a jump that no ordinary man would have been able to make and landed hard, hissing through his teeth at the pain in his side.

"I'm not getting a response from the shuttle." Juno continued.

Panic flared. "Juno. Listen to me. You need to get out of there. The clone is there. The clone is there."

And, vaulting himself over a toppled satellite dish, he finished his ascent, pausing to absorb what lay before him. It was hard, in fact, to make out much of anything. The rain – by this time – had closed around them like a curtain. If the shuttle still rested atop the prototype Destroyer, then its hard edges had been smoothed out and camouflaged by the grey sheets of rain.

Somewhere above his head, the familiar sound of the Rogue Shadow loomed overhead and he bit back his anger at her defiance and charged forwards.

The sound of the ship firing up resounded through the slick panels beneath his feet. He stumbled, regained his balance and then pressed onwards.

The flare of the shuttle lifting off gave him direction and, with extended bounds he launched a fierce blast of Force power across at the ship. The blast was deflected; evaporating as harmlessly as steam.

And even through the haze, with a viewport between them, Galen could see the flare of those horrific eyes; unnaturally yellow and filled with fear.

Kota was dead.

The green saber came to life in his hand and, with a roar of anger; he guided that blade through the air. It spun, lurching upwards, severing part of the main landing gear in a shower of vibrant sparks.

Not enough. Not enough.

The shuttle was turning on its axis now, the sound of its powering up a fearsome roar as it prepared to accelerate to safety.

The green saber snapped back into his waiting hand, fingers closing over the hilt. Then, he rushed forwards, sensing the gap increasing even as he sought to close it.

His arms came up and the wound in his shoulder – still hidden beneath armor – ripped open with a flare of pain, spilling hot blood.

He shoved the pain aside and reached for the strength he needed. Gathering his focus he reached out, the threads of energy soared towards the ship, touching at the hull, finding purchase there.

The com-link – still wedged in his teeth – split along the side of its casing but Juno's warning cries held little meaning anyway.

He tried to warn her away. Wanted her to understand that he couldn't risk her getting caught up in this. But he was beyond reasoning now and he didn't trust himself enough to split his concentration.

The ship continued to pivot and Galen increased his hold, trying to return it to the XF-32. In the back of his mind a warning bell rang, but he didn't realize its meaning until the rotating turbolaser - mounted on the ship's undercarriage - had fired.

The floor turned to slag beneath his feet, the heat of the blast knocking him roughly backwards. The com-link came free; falling, lost, into oblivion. Frantically, though he seemed in control to outside eyes, he scrabbled to regain his concentration, throwing out chasing tendrils of Force energy.

A second blast from the turbolaser had him sliding down the splintered panels; energy quickly redirected to help protect him from searing heat and a quick death. Regrettably, that gave the ship a chance to increase the distance between them and, crawling back onto secure footing, through a cloud of grey smoke, he reached out again.

The ship was getting away. Slipping through his fingers.

He felt for the hull, attempted to pull it back; his rage fueling the act. But even as he struggled to find a hold, he could feel the acceleration of the engines winning. He pulled himself to his feet, drove through the pain, and stalked forwards across the ship; battling against a strong gust.

He felt the drag of the ship, felt his feet slip along the smooth, slippery surface of the XF-32. Felt a surge of rising desperation. A roar broke free of his lungs as he sensed his strength failing.

Kota was dead.

He felt something come loose under the Force's claws and worked at it, drawing it away from the shuttle and casting it aside. Maybe if he could cause enough damage, the ship wouldn't be able to—

—No, too late. No!

Without warning, the 100 meter long shuttle lurched into hyperspace.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath and shaking from a mix of cold, rage and pain. He had failed and that failure had cost the life of a friend and the escape of a dangerous, insane clone. If he hadn't wasted those precious seconds... If he had just finished off the clone there and then and ignored the old man's plea…

Did it really matter if he killed in hate? Would it really be so easy to fall?

He stood shakily, swaying a moment before he gained his balance, and threw another look up into that leaden sky. A sky that held no promise of sunlight or a chance at a respite. He brought his hands up to cover his face, dragging his fingers with bruising force up into the stubble of his hair.

Kota was dead.

With no signal transmitting from his com-link, Juno had no way of contacting him. No way of drawing him back from that desperate rage that had him struggling onward despite the helplessness of the situation.

The shuttle was not a lightweight TIE fighter to be snatched and crumpled into a useless hunk of metal. It was big, cumbersome and accelerating rapidly away from his position.

"PROXY! Take over." She leapt out of her seat and shoved the gangly droid into it. "Take us down but keep the ship elevated. I don't want to risk landing her with the XF-32 in its condition." She pictured the Rogue Shadow pitching forwards through damaged durasteel. "And keep an eye on the wing, that outboard flap on the port side took some damage."

And then there was no more time to worry. She hurried down to the loading ramp and jumped the short distance to the ground; almost slipping at the lack of traction on the drenched surface. She closed the fastenings of her jacket as she went, hunkered down to better move through the lashing rain.

Galen stood up as she drew closer and, carefully, she extended a hand; reaching up to gently touch his back; just beneath the protective plating.

He jerked beneath her touch and snapped around to face her with blinding speed, his hand lurching towards the saber at his hip. His eyes were just a little too dark in his face and the expression…

She swallowed, taking a short step back, afraid to say anything in case her very words broke him apart. Afraid of that anger in him.

He…he couldn't keep this up. This fighting. This conflict with his past, with his future…with himself.

The startled anger receded and the hand that had been reaching for his saber lifted to her instead. Cold fingers brushed against her elbow and sparked a shudder up the length of her spine. And, wordlessly, she stepped forwards, allowing herself to be folded up in his arms; so tight that she could barely breathe.

His cheek was deathly cold against hers, the fabric of his shirt sodden underneath her hands. And the way he clung to her…as if he were clinging to an unwinding thread as he dangled helplessly above the precipice.

He was falling and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold onto him.

And then, softly, she asked; "What happened?"

The sound of the rain muffled her question but his body tensed in response. His breathing hitched in her ear and her eyes pressed closed; another involuntary shiver running through her.

"I failed."

His voice was so quiet and it broke her heart.

"He's gone."

And she knew, then, that he wasn't just talking about the escaped clone. That the losses had been far greater than that.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Kota was dead.

To be continued...

Next update scheduled for: 12th November