Thanks to SandriasSaber for helping find all the stuff that was wrong with this chapter! (There was a lot. Which is why it required six edits/rewrites.) :P
It was the tower room at Aantonaii all over again, except that this time, Tech was capable of moving his head and vocal chords. His heart pounded, and he attempted to tighten one hand around the pistol he'd been holding when the ship landed, but despite his efforts, he could neither lift nor fire the weapon. Past experience told him that continuing his attempts to free himself from the invisible bonds would be pointless; but somehow, standing there and doing nothing was worse.
Swallowing with an effort, Tech looked at his teammates. Hunter stared at Vythia, face slack with shock; Wrecker blinked several times, as though he couldn't quite believe his eyes; and Crosshair's gaze slid sideways to meet Tech's.
Tech knew exactly what he was thinking: What do we do?
"What can we do?" Tech murmured helplessly, looking from Quinlan – who was still lying on his side, unconscious – to the purple Nautolan female who stood in front of the strange ship. She appeared unarmed, or at least there were no weapons hanging from her belt, and her features were drawn in exhausted pain. With a certainty he could not quite explain, Tech knew that Vythia was herself right now, not the Sith woman who possessed her.
As he watched, she stumbled in place, catching her balance only just before she would have dropped the long bundle she carried over her shoulders.
Hunter let out his breath sharply. "Vythia."
With an effort, she looked up at the commandos, her gaze flitting slowly over each of them until it landed on the sergeant.
"Hunter?" she whispered. Her voice wavered, and Tech was even more firmly convinced that Zenaya was not controlling her right now. But why wouldn't she have Vythia firmly under her control? What game was Zenaya playing this time? Or . . . was she? Perhaps the Sith woman's energy was being spent in controlling the commandos. Perhaps that meant that Vythia would be capable of acting on her own.
Most likely, however, that would not be the case. As it was, she was just standing there, staring at the commandos.
"Hunter?" she said again, then took a step forward and swayed, hardly able to keep her balance. "You must do something. . . stop her. I don't know how, but stop her, please, Hunter!"
He didn't answer, and Tech was a bit surprised when he saw that the look in the sergeant's eyes reflected the paralyzing fear in Vythia's.
"You must, Hunter!" Her voice cracked, and she bent forward, coughing blood. "You managed once!"
He didn't answer.
Tears shimmered briefly in the Nautolan's eyes, and her desperate gaze flitted to the sniper. "Crosshair –?"
"I can't." Crosshair avoided her eyes, hands limp at his sides as he glared at his pistol, which lay on the floor. "I can't move, Vythia."
As Vythia started to reply, she staggered and nearly fell to her knees before forcing herself upright yet again. She turned to Wrecker, who shook his head once.
Tech knew Wrecker was fighting with everything he had, but for all the good it was doing, he may as well not have been trying at all.
"Surely one of you –" Vythia coughed again and moved one hand from the bundle she carried. Wiping at the blood that kept dripping from the left corner of her mouth, she looked hopelessly at Tech.
"I cannot move, either," Tech said, and was a bit surprised when his voice remained steady despite how his pulse hammered in his chest and throat. "None of us can do anything, Vythia. We are at Zenaya's mercy."
"But – she has none . . ." Vythia voice was hollow and quiet. "Where – where is Quinlan?"
Hunter glanced sideways and down, and Vythia followed his look to the Jedi. A flash of fear chased the despair from her face, and she straightened up a little beneath her burden.
"Quinlan!" she cried fiercely. "Wake up!"
Her words seemed heavy, somehow, and Tech was surprised when the Jedi shifted a little in response. But he didn't open his eyes.
"Wake up!" she cried again. "Wrecker – Tech! Wake him!"
"We cannot," Tech said, wondering why, despite everything that had happened, she did not seem to understand how powerless they were. Maybe because she wished it were otherwise.
When Vythia only stared at him, her black eyes even blacker than usual with despair and exhaustion, Tech sighed and tried again to explain. "He has not woken since he touched the kyber crystal."
"That was her. That was – !" Vythia cut off with a cry of pain, like the words had snagged in her throat.
Tech almost asked her to clarify, then pressed his lips together. The Sith woman might not be in control at the moment, but she was certainly keeping her attention on Vythia.
"Zenaya knocked him out?" Wrecker asked slowly.
"She reached him through it – she wants –" Vythia gritted her teeth, then choked out the next few words. "She – wants him to – try to –"
Her gaze turned inward, and she inhaled and leaned forward. A couple of seconds later, the pain melted from her face, and her features hardened.
Zenaya lowered the black-wrapped bundle to the floor, then straightened, pressing the wrist of one sleeve against her mouth to stop the flow of blood.
Disregarding the commandos, she swept over to Quinlan while Tech studied whatever she had been carrying. It was hard to tell, beneath the layers of black cloth, but in shape it looked almost like a body.
Zenaya knelt near the Jedi, then leaned over him and trailed her fingers down one side of his face. "Quinlan Vos. We have not finished."
He woke up instantly, his gaze locked onto hers. Although his facial expression did not change, a look of disbelief and shock entered his eyes.
With a soft laugh, Zenaya sat back on her heels and turned to Wrecker. "Bring me the Crystal of Aantonaii."
"The – what?" Wrecker said slowly.
"The crystal that Quinlan wanted you to destroy . . . as you well know." She tilted her head. "Bring it to me."
Wrecker growled, eyes narrowing. "Or what?"
But Zenaya only gestured at the hall.
For a moment, Wrecker resisted, his hands clenching with effort. Then, abruptly, he started walking. His movements were so heavy as he headed across the hangar that it was obvious he was being compelled.
"What do you want the crystal for?" Tech asked.
Zenaya looked up, but didn't answer. Instead, she considered him for a few moments before saying, "Come. You must assist me."
Tech frowned and glared hotly at her, but he obeyed. If he did not, she would force him to anyway, but if he could lull her into a false sense of security, perhaps he would get a chance to act.
Zenaya was prepared for that, though. He was still a meter away from her when she held up a hand, forcibly stopping him as she looked at Crosshair.
"You, as well. Come."
The sniper narrowed his eyes in a poisonous glower.
"Do not test my patience." She didn't quite snap her words, but her eyes darkened in displeasure. Still, she didn't attack him, or immediately force him to obey.
That made Tech pause, wondering if Zenaya was at the limits of her control. The injury through her left heart might not have been fatal, but it was still severe. And, in the three days that had passed since Hunter stabbed her, Zenaya had not healed the wound. There must have been significant blood loss. Surely she should be much weaker by now . . .
A few seconds passed in silence. When Crosshair still didn't move – perhaps he had also seen her weakness – Zenaya shifted again, leaning towards him like a snake gathering its coils. "You will obey," she said, almost conversationally.
Crosshair sneered. "No."
"No?" Zenaya shifted, holding one hand over the prone Jedi's chest. Quinlan flinched, fingers twitching slightly at his sides, and Tech remembered the purple lightning he'd seen in his . . . dream.
Turning her head to look at Hunter, Zenaya gave him a gentle smile.
Hunter drew in a sharp breath. "Crosshair. Listen to her."
The sniper jerked his gaze towards him, then snarled and moved over to stand next to Tech. As soon as he was in place, Zenaya stood, eyes glowing with an emotion that Tech could not identify. "Get up, Quinlan."
The Jedi knelt, then pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, his gaze unfocused as he tried to take in his surroundings.
Zenaya gestured him towards Tech and Crosshair. At the same time, an image and a command flashed into Tech's mind, and he looked questioningly at Zenaya.
"I cannot have him interfering," she explained, glancing between the hall door and her prisoners. Then her gaze hardened once again. "Do as I have ordered. Now."
Without much of a choice, Tech obeyed, stepping to one side as he caught Quinlan's left wrist and elbow in either hand to hold him in place. At first, the Jedi hardly seemed to notice as Crosshair did the same thing on his right side, but then he shifted. When he met resistance, he jerked forward in an attempt to break free.
Under ordinary circumstances, Quinlan might have succeeded – even if Tech had not wanted him to escape – but Zenaya was standing directly in front of the three of them. She watched Quinlan struggle for a few moments, then clenched one hand and made him freeze in place.
At almost the same time, Wrecker reappeared, dragging the heavy loader with the crystal behind him. The deep red of the kyber glowed noticeably, and as Zenaya moved towards it, it grew even brighter.
"Bring it here," she ordered, crossing swiftly to the black bundle. "And you, Hunter; I will need your help, as well."
Hunter looked rebelliously at her. He didn't even say anything, but Zenaya seemed to know. Turning on her heel, she lifted a hand.
Something squeezed sharply around Tech's neck, pressing against the base of his throat as he gagged, eyes smarting.
It was several long moments before the Force-attack stopped. As soon as the pressure vanished, Tech burst into a fit of coughing, through which Zenaya's words were just audible.
"Do not bother fighting me," she said to Hunter. "We both know you will give in. If not for the sake of your teammates, then for your own."
"I wouldn't," Hunter said sharply, shooting Tech a concerned glance as he took a step towards the Sith woman.
"No?" She lifted the wrapped object upright and started to undo the black fabric. As she did, she spoke almost thoughtfully. "No, you would not . . . at least, not at first. But you would still give in, in the end. If not for your own sake, then for the sake of your teammates."
Hunter said nothing. For a couple of seconds, he stayed where he was, his eyes moving slightly as though he were trying to read something out of the floor. Then, with a slight shudder, he moved decisively to join Zenaya.
Wrecker released the handle of the loader, leaving the crystal next to the Sith woman, and Quinlan – whose gaze was fixed unblinkingly on Zenaya – threw himself against Tech's and Crosshair's grip. She moved one hand, just a bit, and kept working.
Quinlan's breath came quickly, and anger flashed in his eyes.
"You can use the Force against her," Tech said, half-questioning, then blinked in concern. "Can't you?"
"Yeah." He jerked against their hold again, then fell still, letting his head hang as if to steady himself. "She's blocking everything – without even trying."
"You'd better not be giving up, Vos," Crosshair said under his breath.
"I'm – not –" The Jedi spoke through gritted teeth, his voice shaking as much as he was as he looked up. "We have to try something different. Those explosives – gotta get Wrecker to set them off –"
Once again, Tech willed his aching fingers to loosen their grip. Nothing changed.
Quinlan twisted his arms, wrenching Tech's wrist in the process, then paused. "This might work," he muttered. "I just need some movement. . ."
He leaned forward harder, and there was a faint cracking sound.
"You might dislocate your shoulder," Tech observed in a whisper.
"That's what I'm counting on." Quinlan twisted his arms even more and leaned forward harder. "Might have to break your wrist, though. Or Crosshair's."
The sniper shot him a look. "Joy."
Tech winced internally at the idea, but didn't try to fight when his wrist was bent even more.
Quinlan held that position for a moment, then leaned forward again. Tech clenched his teeth and the strain in his muscles, and Crosshair and Quinlan stayed as quiet as he did; but somehow, Zenaya must have realized what they were up to, because she turned suddenly to face them.
A flicker of something like concern crossed her face, and Tech knew he was right about her not having complete control. She had kept all of them immobile in the tower without trouble, but this time Quinlan was repeatedly throwing off her paralysis.
Zenaya stepped away from the black bundle, leaving it upright and partially draped by the fabric as she gestured for Wrecker to join the others.
To Tech's alarm, Wrecker came up behind Quinlan and clamped both hands over his shoulders. Now there was even less chance of him breaking free . . . if there had ever been a chance at all.
"Wrecker!" snapped Crosshair, as though Wrecker could somehow have resisted Zenaya any better than he could.
"I can't let go!" Wrecker protested, fear audible in his voice.
"No, you cannot." Zenaya stopped in front of Quinlan and gestured at the three commandos. "Better than the chains I used before, are they not?" she said softly. "Or do you intend to shatter them, as well?"
Quinlan's eyes smoldered. "I know what they'd want me to do."
"Perhaps you do." She went back to the crystal, and the form beside it, speaking over her shoulder as she went. "But do you know what I want you to do?"
Crosshair flinched. "What is she talking about?"
Nobody answered, because Zenaya tugged at the covering, and the black swathes of fabric fell away.
Before them stood a tall female Togruta. Her eyes were closed, hands hanging limp at her sides, but Tech recognized her immediately. She was nearly identical in appearance to the statue of Zenaya they had all seen, back in Trayus. The off-white facial markings were the same, and she wore the same black dress and gold belt, as well as a golden bracelet that seemed to catch Quinlan's attention. This time, though, the Togruta carried weapons that Tech recognized only too well – Vythia's lightwhip, and the ceremonial dagger.
Quinlan inhaled, then swore. "Oh . . . Force."
"You are surprised?" Zenaya drew the dagger from the Togrutan woman's belt and leaned her against the crystal.
"Quinlan?" Hunter said. "What is she doing?"
"All the pieces were there." Quinlan tilted his head back and let out a sharp laugh. "The shadow in the drawing – I said there was a statue missing from that room. But it wasn't a statue, was it?"
The sudden realization made Tech catch his breath. Zenaya's body had been there, in Aantonaii, the way Ghant's body had been in his crypt. Hers had probably been near the room that contained the altar and the two Togrutan victims. But she must have moved it before the team ever reached the palace.
"The ritual," Crosshair said. "Zenaya preserved her own body."
"Yes, I did." Zenaya took one of the Togruta's hands and slashed the palm open with the dagger. The injury bled, even though the body had been dead for thousands of years, and Zenaya moved on to the other hand. "I knew that, whoever returned me to life, I would not be able to maintain the life of my host indefinitely. . . and even if I were, my connection to the Force would not be as strong. I had not foreseen Vythia removing the entire crystal from my palace."
Her calm tone, despite what she was doing and the constant trickle of blood from her mouth, put Tech even more on edge.
Then Zenaya released the body, which somehow stayed upright on its own, and gestured to Hunter.
Moving jerkily, the sergeant stepped towards her.
"Wrecker!" Quinlan somehow managed to throw himself forward again, but against the three commandos' combined strength, it did nothing. "The explosives – set them off!"
Tech glanced sideways at the hole leading to the vault. Presumably, he and the others, as well as Zenaya, were well within range of the blast that would result.
"I'll try," said Wrecker. But only a few seconds had passed when he growled in exasperation. "I can't get the detonator – can't move!"
"Set them off!" Quinlan ordered.
The words sounded heavily in Tech's head and wound around whatever he'd been thinking. Suddenly, he felt that he had to set the explosives off, even though he didn't have the detonator. Wrecker had it – so Tech had to take it from him. Somehow, he turned towards Wrecker and let go of Quinlan with one hand.
Then Zenaya's will stopped him cold, her icy calm snuffing out Quinlan's anger and desperation. For a moment, they fought for control. The warring compulsions in Tech's mind made stabbing pains shoot through his head, and sweat trickled down his spine. Through the increasing ringing in his ears, he could hear Crosshair snarling at Quinlan to stop, and Wrecker groaning in pain.
Tech looked dizzily at Zenaya, who had paused with the dagger point against her own hand. "Yes," she said slowly, looking at Quinlan. Then she glanced at Wrecker. "Set them off, before he breaks your mind."
Quinlan went still, as though in realization. His command withdrew from Tech's mind, the mental pressure vanishing with a nearly visible flash.
Tech only had time for one gasp of relief – and fear – before Wrecker grabbed the detonator with one hand and pressed it.
The next instant, they were surrounded by heat and light and sound. Tech realized, distantly, that they were about to die. Debris and shrapnel flashed past, the floor shook, and the smell of smoke and superheated stone burned in his nose and throat.
But none of the debris slammed into him, or any of the others, or into the crystal or the black ship behind it. Nearly three seconds passed before Tech noticed that Zenaya's arms were outstretched and understood that she was shielding them. Even weakened, she was powerful enough to shield all of them – so, realistically, there had never been a chance of using the explosives against her.
As the last clatters of falling stone and metal and glass faded away, Zenaya lowered her arms, inhaling deeply; at the same time, Quinlan staggered in place, almost hanging in the commandos' grasp for a moment. Then he straightened abruptly and twisted his fingers to point at Zenaya.
She took one abrupt step back and lifted a hand to shield herself. Instantly, Quinlan switched targets and shoved the massive kyber crystal a full meter towards the black ship.
Tech realized that the destroyed artifacts were lending both the Force-users strength.
As the crystal shifted again, Zenaya lowered her chin as though in thought, then clenched both hands and brought them down sharply at her sides.
Wrecker leaned down against Quinlan's shoulders until he bent, hardly able to stay standing, while Tech and Crosshair wrenched the Jedi's arms behind his back.
Quinlan was still fighting them – they were still fighting themselves – when Zenaya rounded on Hunter and spoke in a low voice. Immediately, the sergeant caught the Togrutan woman's body by the wrists and pressed her bloody hands against the upper half of the crystal.
"Vythia!" shouted Quinlan, twisting hard, and again there was that weird heaviness to his voice. "Vythia! Don't let her use the dagger!"
There was a single moment where Vythia responded. Her eyes changed, and her arm drew back slightly, as though ready to hurl the dagger through the open hangar door.
Tech felt himself twisting Quinlan's arm and saw Crosshair doing the same as Wrecker planted a hand on his upper back and shoved him forward. The Jedi doubled over with a shout, and Vythia was gone again.
Zenaya looked almost shaken for an instant, but she recovered. "This will soon be over."
She sliced open her right palm with the ceremonial dagger, then her left. Unlike when Vythia had cut herself, she did not cry out or react in any way. Silently, she dropped the knife and moved to the side of the crystal opposite to where the Togrutan woman's body stood.
Tech bit the inside of his lip at the knowledge that it was too late to do anything, now.
Zenaya took a breath, then pressed her palms against the surface of the dark kyber.
Instantly, a beam of red-black light shot up from the crystal. It dissipated through the room, darkening the electric light, and a heavy weight seemed to rest over the area, muffling everything. Tech's grip on the Jedi's wrist and elbow slipped a little.
Then the reddish light was withdrawn from the rest of the room. It coalesced inside the crystal, against Zenaya's hands. Her eyes flickered red, then gold – then changed abruptly to their usual black – they were Vythia's again.
With a nearly inaudible cry, the Nautolan woman bent backwards at the waist, struggling to free herself. But her hands stayed pressed against the crystal, like they were being held in place as much as the Togrutan woman's were.
The light inside the kyber twisted and bent, then shot across to the other side and through the crystal's wall into the Togrutan woman's hands, where it vanished.
Within seconds, it was over, and Vythia crumpled to the floor.
The Togrutan woman – Zenaya – did not move for several seconds. Keeping her eyes closed, she drew in a slow, even breath. Then another. A faint smile touched her lips and was gone.
Hunter, who was still pinning Zenaya's hands against the crystal, flinched as she rotated her wrists in his grip and trapped his fingers with her own blood-covered ones.
"As I said," she murmured, eyes still lightly shut as she twisted Hunter to face her. "We were not yet finished. . . were we, Quinlan Vos?"
He didn't answer; in fact, he had fallen completely still and silent. For a moment, Tech could not determine if Quinlan were even breathing.
Then the Jedi looked up. "Not – finished?" he said hoarsely, and his eyes glowed that deep, unnerving gold again.
The tall Sith woman drew in another breath, then finally opened her eyes, which were a strange silver-blue.
Just like that statue, Tech thought, and mentally rolled his eyes. Of course her eyes were like those of the statue. It had been of her, after all.
Zenaya gazed at Quinlan for several moments, the coolness of her eyes seeming to scornfully mute the flames in his.
Tech's hands were trembling, and his heart thudded even worse than before. He concluded that he was afraid, even though he felt almost nothing.
Zenaya took a step towards Quinlan, then seemed to notice that she was still holding Hunter by the wrists. She tilted her head, her long white-and-grey montrals swaying with the motion, and smiled a little.
Then, with a sudden, graceful motion, she pulled Hunter closer, leaned forward, and kissed his forehead.
Hunter jerked back and twisted aside, and Zenaya released his hands so abruptly that he fell sideways against the crystal.
As he straightened, she stepped past him, unfastening a golden band of metal from around her wrist.
Quinlan tensed, but she did not approach him with it. Instead, she glanced at the inside of the band and murmured, "Tyûk kots shâsot. . . Strength to break passion." For a moment, her gaze drifted to something far away, or a distant memory. "But you did not live by strength only, my master. Your passion was to see me surpass you, and to keep the ways of the Sith alive."
"What is she doing?" hissed Crosshair.
"She's –" Wrecker hesitated. "Talking to someone . . .?"
"Your teachings brought me far," Zenaya said, and drew her lightsaber. "But there is no longer a need for this."
In one movement, she activated the blood-red blade, slashed through the bracelet, and tossed the pieces to the ground.
The metal clattered dully on the stones, and a strange apparition drifted up, almost to Zenaya's height – black and red skin, a gold-edged tunic, lekku so long and thin they looked like snakes . . .
Tech heard Crosshair's breath catching in his throat.
Then, from the smoky depths of the semi-visible form, came a voice. "You have – now earned . . . the title of . . . Mas . . . ter."
"Yes," Zenaya replied. "I have."
She gestured, and the illusion faded away into nothing.
