(Summary for Part Four--the Conclusion: Vaiya returns home to 
find her mother, Mara, in a quite upsetting state. Larin has 
left her, and winds up running into Cal Saphringer, who 
"convinces" Larin to return to his former position as his 
aide. As Vaiya gains more knowledge of her new religion and 
begins to grow, new threats begin to show themselves. An 
ancient sith cult, the Cult of the Destroyer, seeks to use 
her as a mother for their child, who is foretold to be their
Destroyer himself. But if she does not willingly accept her 
role, she will die. The cult leader finds that he has a 
strange connection with Vaiya--and she with him. In the heat 
of battle, the strangest things can happen.....


MOSAIC--PART FOUR: THE GRACE OF ETERNITY

1--Black Magic Man

     Larin didn't know too much about space travel. What he 
did know had only come from his time with Cal Saphringer. And 
Saphringer hadn't exactly been trying to teach him about
space travel. All Saphringer had cared about was letting 
Larin get his revenge against the people who had murdered his 
parents. The only thing that really stuck in Larin's mind as 
odd was the fact that Saphringer had never demanded any sort 
of payment. As if the fact that the mission was for blood was 
payment enough for him.
     Now, as he sat in third class steerage on board some 
kind of cruiser, heading for some
planet called Naboo, a lot of things were seemingly odd about 
Cal Saphringer.
     Of course, Saphringer was not Larin's first choice on 
his list of things to think about. For
the moment, however, he happened to be the clearest thing. 
Maybe that was the Psyenergy
prodding him. Vaiya had told him many things about Cal, all 
of which were disturbing but none
of which were surprising. He had been Vaiya's mother's---Mara 
Skywalker's---lover for a
considerable time before she had returned to mainstream 
society as a smuggler, working for
Talon Karrde, probably the only other name in the galaxy 
Larin was familiar with. Then, he'd
returned when Vaiya was a child, and something had happened--
-even Vaiya didn't know the
details. She just knew that he had found a solid place on the 
wrong side of her parents' feelings.
And then, mysteriously, he'd shown up again, a good 13 years 
later, posing as his own son, Jaid
Saphringer, with the youth to prove it--even though physics 
demanded that he look like a 50-odd
year old man.
     How he had done *that* they just couldn't figure. But 
before they could ask him, he'd
done his damage and taken off. But not before Vaiya 
discovered him and took off on her own.
     Which was where she had come into his life.
     He sighed as he pulled himself to his feet. The cruiser 
had landed, and it would probably
be a good idea to get as ready as possible. Besides, the 
thought of Saphringer was pressing on his
mind, like the man was waiting for him out on the dock. He 
knew they weren't at Naboo--they
hadn't been on the ship long enough, he didn't care how fast 
hyperspace was. In fact, he was
pretty sure they hadn't even gone *into* hyperspace. So what 
was the deal? They were docked
somewhere--maybe some bigger ship had captured them. Funny, 
no warning lights had gone off.
     Also funny...no one else was moving.
     He picked his away around the many lifeforms that 
littered the floor. They were pathetic,
these wretches. Larin felt sorry for many of them, seeing how 
young and small some of them
were. He passed by what looked like an old woman with long 
blue tentacles dangling from her
head, holding a little boy that was almost a miniature of 
her. He bent over to put some credits in
her lap, but a sudden surge of fear stopped him. He glanced 
over his shoulder and saw a dozen
greedy eyes gleaming out at him. He withdrew his balled fist, 
but not without his own surge of
anger. 
     For maybe the first time in his life, he was glad that 
his planet had banished Offworlders.
If this was the usual lot, Durran was better off without 
them. But that didn't really concern Larin
much anymore, since he, too, was banished.
     Without even a last name.
     The door slid open about twenty feet ahead of him, off 
to the right side of the cargo bay
so that Larin could only barely make out what lay beyond. He 
knew he saw cold grey metal--not
much else.
     Still, no one in the bay was moving. 
     Larin moved down the short corridor to the exit ramp. He 
saw that they had been taken
into some huge landing bay, some kind of supercruiser that 
could hold smaller cruisers. There
were people all around, none of them looking like respectable 
types. 
     He slowly made his way down the ramp. There was no one 
from inside the ship posted at
the exit, no one making any effort to follow him. In fact, as 
his feet touched the landing bay
floor, the ramp immediately retracted, the hatch sealed, and 
the ship lifted up again.
     As if the only reason it had landed was to drop him off.
     For a moment, Larin could only stare. But that moment 
passed quickly under the
knowledge that Cal Saphringer was standing right behind him.
     He looked younger than Larin remembered. He was grinning 
from ear to ear, his bright
white teeth practically shining. By appearances, he was 
barely Larin's age, and oozed of charm
and grace. His dark hair and eyes were perfect bait for those 
unsuspecting types--male and
female alike. 
     Larin counted himself lucky he'd known Saphringer a bit. 
Maybe if he was less prepared
he would be a lot worse off right now. Saphringer hadn't 
really done anything to him, not
directly. He had helped him, however, during a very dark time 
in Larin's life, so that may mean
that Larin owed him a debt. 
     "What, I don't even get a chance to speak and you're 
already suspicious of me?" Cal said,
extending his hand to Larin, who took it. He fought back a 
brief flash of embarrassment, his own
grimy hand in Cal's elegantly black-gloved one. 
     "Good to see you, Saphringer," Larin said in his most 
polite voice, using the last name as
an honorific. If anyone who knew him from his life on Durran, 
they would have accused him of
blasphemy, since his own last name had been stripped from 
him. But Cal....Cal had insisted that
Larin call him that.
     "You too. Boy, you've grown up a little bit, haven't 
you?" Cal slapped him lightly on the
shoulder, a guesture which mean to make Larin fall in beside 
him as he turned back toward his
own ship, a big, sleek, gleaming ship the color of liquid 
silver. 
     "Not so much, not really," Larin replied, keeping his 
voice even and low, but falling in
step beside Cal anyway. After all, his own ship was 
gone...."What about you? You look...younger
than ever."
     The big white grin returned. "You don't miss anything, 
do you?" Then he laughed. "Yes, I
guess I couldn't expect my little charade to last forever. I 
mean, when you're in my kind of
business, people look at youth and think they can cheat you. 
I originally wanted everyone to
think that I was my own descendant, but that has turned out 
to be the last thing that works for
me."
     "So what are you doing out here?" Larin asked. "I mean, 
I thought your hangout was by
Durran. I thought they were paying you to watch their 
territory--unoffically, of course."
     Cal shrugged. "All that flying in and flying out that 
little Skywalker spawn did kind of
get my fired. But I take losses very well."
     "Apparently."
     Cal glanced over at him. "You've gotten stronger since 
last time, Larin. I can't read you
like I used to. And I don't ever admit to that. But you know, 
you still have so much potential."
     "As what, a heavy for you?"
     "You have to admit that you play the part well."
     Larin shuddered. "No thanks. My days as a killer are 
done."
     "Does Vaiya know that?"
     Larin stopped in his tracks. Cal got a few steps ahead 
of him before he finally turned
around, the expression on his face serenely calm, almost 
innocent. "What?" he asked.
     "Maybe you could tell me," Larin said, his even tone 
more of a struggle now.
     Cal shrugged. "Come on, son. I'm not stupid. I know all 
about everything that's gone on
over the last week or so. I know that you left Durran with 
Vaiya--how else would you have
gotten here from Coruscant? I imagine that she probably took 
a liking to you--she hovers around
your thoughts, no matter what you're thinking about. You 
probably haven't really noticed it." The
dark eyes narrowed. "But yet you left. Do you know why?"
     Larin could only stare at him.
     "Because I called you." He started to smile. "I called 
you, Larin. You knew your path
with me wasn't finished. You've been thinking about me since 
your ship came into range. You've
been thinking about how much you owe me, how I had never 
asked for anything when I helped
you fulfill your need for vengence."
     "I..." It was getting a little hard to think. "I've 
given all that up, Saphringer. I paid my debt
when my people cast me out."
     "Not to me." Cal's grin was almost gentle, paternal. 
"You know it and I know it. Even if
you've given up the synthol you still have to pay the tab." 
He slapped Larin's shoulder again.
"You should be so lucky that you fell in with me. Most other 
smugglers would have killed you
the second they saw you again. But not me, no. I believe in 
second chances. And I believe that
you have a lot of potential."
     Larin resisted the urge to step back. "What's going on, 
Saphringer?" he murmured. "Why
a sudden interest in me? Are you just trying to get to Vaiya 
and her family again?"
     Cal snorted. "It would be all too easy to get to them 
now, wouldn't it? What with the
delightful little drama taking place there." He grinned, as 
if seeing it. "Alas, I would love to take
part. In fact, it may almost be worth my while to finaggle my 
way down there. With the state that
Mara is in, it wouldn't take much to convince her that it was 
all a 'rebel ploy' and that she had
'married' Skywalker and produced an heir for him out of some 
ultimate scheme for revenge.
When the time was right, I'd even convince her to kill Vaiya 
right before Skywalker's eyes. How
satisfying would that be for me, eh?" The gleam that 
accompanied the words made Larin wince.
     "That's monstrous," he whispered.
     "Ah, yes. That's why I'm probably not going to go 
through the trouble of doing it. If I
have something else to occupy me." Cal's eyes focused on 
Larin. "What say you? Are you willing
to sacrifice yourself to save them?"
     Larin wanted to be suspicious. He could tell by the way 
his mind kept resisting the
sudden urge he had to follow Cal into his ship. Cal was 
backing away now, as if knowing that
Larin would follow. Cal knew what Larin was going to do. He 
could feel Cal in his head,
touching every weakness he had.
     *Protect Vaiya. Protect Vaiya's mother....you know 
you've sold your soul already, boy.
Your last name was only a formality.*
     He felt very tired. Maybe Cal had a nice place to lay 
down on board that big, beautiful
ship........


2--Heart of Jade

     Vaiya Jade Skywalker was fighting off despair. She 
couldn't give up, not in her heart.
Mara was her mother, whether she liked it or not. The fact 
that she *didn't* like it was what hurt
so much. That woman in her medical quarters, with the firey 
red hair and emerald green eyes,
that was not a woman that Vaiya would want as a mother. She 
was hateful and spiteful and
deadly in her every breath. She was a slave to her anger but 
denied it like a yowling hellcat.
     Not too far away, her father, Jedi Master Luke 
Skywalker, paced the room slowly. Every
once in a while, he would check his comlink. Vaiya's own 
self-pity was overshadowed only by
pity for him. He had stoutly refused to accept Vaiya's 
retelling of Mara's words---
     *I don't want to remember.*
     Now he spent his time making sure that Cal Saphringer 
wasn't going to show up
unexpectedly. "That would be just the sort of thing for the 
man to do," Luke had said when their
vigil had just begun. "Come in here and try to convince her 
that she had married me only to
destroy me, maybe even have her kill you, too."
     "He can't get past security," Vaiya said in a shallow 
echo of a voice. She was hunched up
against the transparisteel windows in the medlounge, her 
cloak pulled around her tightly, her
forehead resting against the window. She meant to be 
reassuring, but it was really pointless. No
matter how true it was, he would still worry.
     If he didn't worry, the poor man might go insane.
     At her words, Luke whirled on her. "You might be doing 
something more constructive
than sitting there," he barked. "I told you what you needed 
to do. Why haven't you done it?"
     Running through a technique intended to give her 
patience (along with a quick prayer)
Vaiya rehearsed her answer. "I can do nothing for her until 
she accepts me, Father." She sighed,
then said what she should never have dared. "You realize that 
this might be impossible, don't
you? That she may remain like this forever? That you may have 
to accept it and carry it for the
rest of your life?"
     "Don't tell me what I'm supposed to accept," Luke 
snarled at her, causing Vaiya to jump
to her feet, matching him in the infamous Skywalker anger. 
"Why do you think you are!?" he
railed.
     "I know who *you* are, Master Skywalker! You are the 
first of a generation of Jedi
Knights, savior of the galaxy and hope of the Jedi to come! 
No one bestowed the honor of
Master upon you. You had to claim it for yourself! With that 
came the responsibility! You had
many happy years with your wife, and you have a child to 
carry your work on after you're done!
But you're forgetting the Jedi creed, Father....not our will, 
but the will of the Force."
     She stopped, remembering what Valeris had told her. Not 
the Force, but what Created the
Force....she couldn't bring that up now. Her father was 
already slipping in his faith in the Force.
No sense springing that stuff onto him now. 
     Luke pulled back, looking very old in the dim light. His 
shoulders slumped slightly, and
he said, very softly, "Then perhaps I need to step down."
     Vaiya practically ran to him. "Don't say that, Father. 
You're strong---"
     "Even strength has limits." He shut his eyes, and Vaiya 
could sense his effort to keep
himself together. "I lost my father and my mother before I 
even knew them. I lost my aunt and
uncle, I lost Ben. I'm tired of losing people. If I lose 
Mara....it will break me."
     "And then what, the dark side? Oh, yeah, that's a good 
solution."
     Luke practically laughed, but it came out more like a 
pathetic sputter. "The dark side isn't
all hatred and anger. It's despair, also."
     "Don't despair, Father. You still have me."
     Luke looked up, as if seeing her for the first time. 
"You....you're a grown woman now,
even though you're still barely 16. I don't know what you 
saw, or where you went, but it changed
you. I can see it. You're a Jedi Knight, and you have your 
own destiny to fulfill. You will leave
us as surely as anything. Perhaps you'll find your friend 
again...I know your feelings for him are
strong. But my path was with your mother. Without her....."
     "I am no Jedi Knight, Father," Vaiya said, her own voice 
threatening to crack. "I lack
courage. I run from problems rather than face them."
     "You do better than I did. I ran head-first into my own 
sorrows." He clenched his
mechanical hand. "But I guess extremes of any sort is bad."
     "We just have to keep praying," Vaiya whispered, as if 
to assure herself. She shut her
eyes and tried to think of Valeris, of what he would tell 
her. There had to be a purpose for
this...her newfound faith could not be so tested without some 
sign that she was---
     Just then the doors to the lounge opened, and Mara's 
doctor stepped through. He walked
over to Vaiya. "She is requesting to speak to you," he said. 
     Luke straightened. "She wants to see you, Vaiya," he 
said. "That can only be a good
thing."
     "I hope so," Vaiya whispered. "Did she say why, Doctor?"
     "You're her daughter. She didn't have to." He turned and 
Vaiya followed him from the
lounge into Mara's room. Before the doors slid closed behind 
her, Vaiya turned and looked at her
father.
     All of the hope of the universe rested in that gaze. Her 
parents had given her life and
breath, and no child in all of history had ever been able to 
pay back such a debt. 
     Vaiya knew she would be the first.

3--Humility

     Mara was sitting on the floor, her legs folded up under 
her. As Vaiya entered the room,
she looked up, and for a moment Vaiya saw her mother again, 
and her heart started to pound.
     "Yes?" Vaiya said, her voice timid whether she willed it 
so or not. 
     "How long are they going to keep me here?" Mara asked 
calmly. 
     Vaiya shrugged. "They seem to think that you'll get your 
memory back naturally."
     Mara's lip curled into a grin. "Nice try. They think I'm 
dangerous. Because the Mara you
knew had a lot of information about this 'New Republic' and 
you think that I may know it too,
therefore I can't leave while my loyalties are in question." 
She paused and sighed. "How bad do
you think it will be? Will they have to execute me?"
     "Father would never allow that," Vaiya said before she 
could stop the words.
     For a moment, Mara's eyes seemed to cloud over, as if 
she were seeing things only she
could see. "Yes...Skywalker. He hasn't been around here much. 
I began to wonder if the injury
inflicted upon my brain had actually been some sort of 
implant the rebels put in me, because
Skywalker has barely been here three times. If he's such a 
devoted husband and father, why isn't
he here, trying to 'get me back?'"
     "For the same reasons you asked me to come here instead 
of him," Vaiya replied, as if it
were not herself speaking but some voice from within her. 
"Because you don't want to see him. It
just brings him pain. And because all of this is the truth 
and you know it."
     "Maybe I do want to see him," Mara whispered.
     "Why? To yell and scream and throw things at him again?" 
Okay, now she was getting
angry. She couldn't continue down this course. She had to 
decide between keeping everything
peaceful and reaching down and strangling her mother right 
then and there.
     "You know," Mara said, still in that dreamy voice, "I 
was thinking about faking it a little
while ago. Pretending to remember everything....then sticking 
a knife in his back when he wasn't
looking. But for some reason, I couldn't do it. I mean, I 
don't even know why I'm telling you this.
It just isn't like me. But the things I've been thinking and 
feeling aren't me, either, so I figured,
what the hell? Go with the flow, Mara. The flow usually knows 
it own way out." She took a deep
breath. "I tried to tell myself at first that I didn't do 
that because Skywalker would see right
through me. I hear he's a Jedi Master now, and while I don't 
give much credit to Jedi of any sort,
I wouldn't want to test my life against my disbelief. But all 
of that is bantha fooder. In the end, I
just plain couldn't do it. And you," she turned her head back 
to Vaiya, her eyes searching her up
and down. "I know who you are. I don't know how you came to 
be, I don't even know if it was
me who carried you, what with medicine nowadays. But you are 
blood of my blood, and I live by
my loyalty. Family....has always come first."
     Mara's brow contorted for a moment, as if the mere act 
of thinking brought her pain.
Something about the word *family*.....
     "So you accept me as your daughter?" Vaiya tried.
     "I accept that you are. And you don't seem to be like 
the rest of them. They all come in
here and look at me like some rimworld freak.  Or like 
they're scared of me. I think I would have
enjoyed that, under other circumstances. But I've been doing 
some research. I managed to secure
myself a clean line to your holonet, just to make sure no one 
is giving me false information. It
wasn't easy, but I was trained to break into anything. And I 
discovered all this New Republic
stuff was true, and that Palpatine has been dead for over 
thirty years." She stretched out her
arms, which, in spite of the fact that she was in her 50's, 
were in excellent shape. "Plus there is
this to consider. I mean, I may look none the worse for wear, 
but I have been worn. So you see,
Vaiya," she sighed, "I simply have no choice but to adapt to 
my new surroundings."
     Vaiya knelt down before her mother, their knees a mere 
two feet apart. "But you knew all
of this before," she said, putting more conviction in her 
voice. "You told me that you knew that
there were things missing, that we were all telling you the 
truth. But you said you didn't want to
remember."
     Mara shrugged. "Sometimes we have to take what we don't 
really want."
     Vaiya frowned. "But you can't expect me to just get up 
and show you back to your
quarters," she said. "I mean, you don't want to go back to my 
father--you can't stand him! What
makes you think you can even do this?"
     Mara's head dipped slightly. The proud, haughty exterior 
was starting to crumble. "I
always do what I have to," she said.
     Vaiya's frown was now a full-blown scowl. "I don't 
believe you, Mother. I'm starting to
get a really terrible feeling that this is all still one of 
your scams to get out of here. You think I
don't know you, but you used to tell me stories about your 
days as the Emperor's Hand, even
right after the Emperor was killed and you had to escape from 
the palace because Isard was after
you. I know how you manipulated people. I won't be one of 
them."
     She stood up to go. She was making an awfully big 
gamble, but if Mara's heart was still
there, buried under all that anger, then this might be the 
only thing to get it to start beating again.
     "Wait!" Mara called, scrambling to her feet. Vaiya felt 
a rush of emotion from her, and
paused just long enough to look at her over her shoulder. 
Mara almost looked embarrassed.
     "Look, would you just give me a break!" she said, 
flustered. "Stars....you have to be my
daughter. Suspicion lives in your blood."
     "So does hope," Vaiya countered.
     Mara took a deep breath and nodded. "I know. But even 
though I've been trying to get out
of here, everything I've told you is the truth. I learned 
early that sometimes telling the truth made
the best lie. It's usually so odd, no one believes it. But I 
was telling you the truth. I swear it."
     The sincerity on her face made Vaiya turn. Now she was 
getting somewhere. "But you
also told the truth when you said you didn't want to 
remember."
     Mara shook her head. "No, I don't. I mean, look at it 
from my perspective. All I've known
is this, who I am now. You're asking me to destroy it so some 
stranger can take its place. I don't
care if I've only been here a few days, weeks, months, I 
don't even know how long it's been. But
this is it." She snorted. "What's really bugging me the most 
is that I feel like I'm still not me, that
I keep doing and saying things, like all I'm saying right 
now, this baring-of-the-soul wampa dung,
is not something I would ever say. And I'm just not ready to 
welcome back in all these things
that are scaring me to death right now."     
     "But you know that they are truly you," Vaiya murmured. 
"I can sense it. Even now, you
know that I can help you get these things back."
     "Yes, I know that you can. I don't know how I know, but 
I do. Maybe that's why I'm so
scared of you, but I never let that intimidate me before. 
Maybe other under circumstances I
would have done something like this on a dare, but this is 
too serious. I can't make light of it
anymore." Mara's gaze clouded over briefly as she took Vaiya 
in again. In the cloak and black
pantsuit, she looked like her father again. *Her father....*
     "Plus Skywalker is so much less than what I pictured him 
to be. I mean, I had this real
terrible vision of him as some dark and twisted Jedi. He's 
more of just a lovesick puppy." She
grinned to herself. "At least I get that much revenge."
     "That's all you've seen of him because you're afraid to 
see anything else." The words were
a calm statement, not an accusation.
     "Yes." Mara almost squirmed. "Whatever other arguments 
we go into, one thing remains.
I know that this isn't how I'm supposed to be. I hate that 
fact, and I would love to continue
throwing tantrums before finally escaping and going out to 
wreck some havoc across the galaxy,
but the fact is, it isn't going to happen."
     "So resignation is your only hope, then?" Vaiya 
whispered.
     "Perhaps."
     "Why don't you take until dawn to meditate on it, then," 
Vaiya suggested. "I won't be
going anywhere. When the sun rises, send for me. Whatever you 
decide then will be your fate." 
     "Fine," Mara murmured, her thoughts away at that moment. 
"Give me some time to get
my thoughts together." She gave a dry chuckle. "They may be 
my last ones."

4--Promises    
     Her father practically jumped on her when she exited the 
hospital room. But all it took
from Vaiya was one long, tired look, and Luke backed away.
     "In the morning," Vaiya assured him. "In the morning, it 
will all be decided. I need to
rest." She continued out the lounge, but Luke stayed with 
her.
     "I don't know how you can be so calm," he whispered. "I 
can't even get myself focused
enough to meditate."
     Vaiya looked at him over her shoulder. She knew that she 
had told herself that she would
wait to share with him all the things she'd learned, but 
there were at least five or so hours of the
night left and her father seemed to need something. He was so 
mentally drained, he would not be
prepared for the morning's events if he did not regenerate 
himself. With a small smile, she turned
and headed into a nearby conference room. There was a table 
in the middle with grandly ornated
chairs, but towards the heel of the room were a few small 
couches that faced each other. Vaiya
made herself comfortable, and her father followed her 
example.
     "There's much I wanted to tell you, Father," she said, 
trying to keep the eagerness out of
her face but unable to help it. "So many things happened to 
me."
     "I can see that, although you were hardly gone two 
weeks."
     "You know how fast people can grow up," she said, "if 
the right things happen."
     
     Mara lay on her bed, wishing she could not think, for 
once in her life. The very effort
made her sick. But the thoughts whirled on endlessly, the 
whispering voices told her that she
didn't have to be afraid, that they were there with her, than 
allowing Vaiya to retrieve her
memories would only bring her joy.
     Phooey.
     It took nearly an hour, but Mara managed to force her 
mind into a slow, silent pattern.
Everything slipped away, even the room around her. A few 
mental steps farther, and she was in a
trance.
     How in the sith had she learned to do that? Oh, yeah, 
the Mara she had been was a Jedi
Knight. Well, it explained some things, and it proved to Mara 
that Knighthood largely depended
on if you believed in it. She knew she couldn't do some of 
the things that the other Mara could
do. If she could, she would be out of here already.
     Instead, the very effort kept her here. Because instead 
of finding this other Mara's Jedi
powers, she found the other Mara's feelings. The feelings 
about Vaiya, the feelings about
Skywalker, the knowledge of things she had said to Vaiya in 
spite of  all of her old instincts to
always keep her mouth shut. Sometimes the truth did make the 
best lie, but Vaiya had still seen
right through it. They all knew her, and she didn't even know 
herself. 
     But what was really standing in her way?
     With all other thoughts cleared out, Mara was able to 
focus on this one question. All she
wanted was some sort of sign, something to focus her concern 
on. All this scattered anxiety was
just too much to handle.
     One word....Skywalker.
     She pondered him, what little there was to ponder. The 
look on his face when she had
first opened her eyes, the immense relief there. And then the 
utter horror as she lost control and
began to scream, shying away from him, the hate radiating 
from her like an overheated blaster.
The haggard, exhausted look on his face when Vaiya had first 
come to her, the pleading
expression, the I'll-die-if-you-reject-me-again look. For a 
short while, Mara had enjoyed it. But it
was far from enjoyable now.
     Maybe if she could somehow allieviate her fear. She 
pushed deeper into her meditation,
touching those emotions that were so alien to her and yet 
completely from her own heart.
Skywalker, instead of growing dimmer under the onslaught of 
courage, grew larger. As she
pushed deeper, she could see how she had cared for him. She 
didn't understand why, but she did.
Something was there, some strings of fate that pulled at her 
even now. The fact that he seemed
to complete her, her opposite, her compliment, her match.
     This was impossible.     
     Mara opened her eyes. There was a nice window on the far 
side of her room. She got up
off the bed and went to sit down on the wide steel sill. It 
was an old trick she used to use to let
herself rest and yet stay on her feet. It was a comforting 
guesture, and it did help a little, but as
she gazed down at Coruscant and watched as the early dawn 
shed its light upon those that
remained awake through the night, she knew what her decision 
had to be. 
     She just hoped that Skywalker would be able to forgive 
her...someday.
     She rang the buzzer for the attending nurse, and told 
him that she wanted to see Vaiya
again. "They have left the lounge," he said, "I'll have to 
send for them at their apartments."
     "They're in a conference room," Mara said, and then 
realized what it was she had said.
How did she know that? Perhaps all her thinking about 
Skywalker last night had reached him
somehow. Of course Vaiya was with him---she didn't have to be 
Force sensitive to figure that
much out.
     The nurse, for his part, smiled and nodded and went on 
his errand. Within a few minutes,
Vaiya was there with her, alone. She had discarded that cape, 
and her hair was rather disheveled.
Mara could see her own reflection in Vaiya at the moment, and 
it helped to alieviate some of her
anxiety. 
     "Well...do what you came to do," Mara whispered.
     "So you've decided you want your memories back." It was 
a statement, not a question.
"Then why are you so afraid?" Vaiya approached her, and 
gently put her hands on Mara's
shoulders. "You don't have to be, you know."
     The look Mara gave her was begging for mercy. 
"Vaiya...do what you came to do,
please."
     With a deep breath, Vaiya placed her hands on either 
side of Mara's head. She reached
forward with her mind and felt Mara do the same. Within 
seconds, they had melded.
     Vaiya opened the door, and the last 30-odd years of 
Mara's life came tumbling out.

5--No Greater Enemy

     She remembered arguing with Skywalker a short while ago, 
saying that maybe they
needed to let Vaiya go her own way, and not go chasing after 
her. She remembered the rage she
felt when she had realized Jaid was really Cal, and had been 
using her daughter to get to the rest
of them. She remembered the pity she felt for Jaid when he'd 
come there, giving them a story
about how he was searching out his "father..." How Luke had 
disliked that Vaiya was giving so
much attention to Derrin, who obviously wasn't interested,  
but liked to pretend that he was. She
remembered their life on Yavin IV, how it had irritated her 
to be in such a "country" setting
when she was a big city girl, but how little it really 
mattered to her with her responsibilities as a
Jedi, and the love of her family. She remembered realizing 
that home wasn't a where, but a why.
Even in the stars, aboard the Jaded Sky, it was still home to 
her. She saw how Vaiya had grown
in skill and intelligence, absorbing everything new, but soon 
had grown bored with all the galaxy
stretched out before her. She felt old worries that had not 
entered her mind in what felt like
forever, but knew they were as fresh as last week. 
     But there was still more, pushing farther back into her 
past. The memories of Callista,
watching her die, trapped under the heavy boulders in that 
mine that was slowly caving in.
Callista had gone there, seeking her help, knowing about Luke 
and herself, and willing to accept
it, even though it broke her heart. Mara remembered feeling 
sorry for Callista, having borne
Luke a son and never knowing if he would ever be found. She 
remembered thinking about her
own child, and how she would feel if slavers stole it from 
her. And then, with her dying breath,
Callista had found the name for the Skywalker-Jade 
child...Vaiya. Stonelifter, in the Chad
language. But it also meant something else, something she had 
not seen back then, but could see
only slightly better now. 
     The years with Luke had drifted past her like an idyllic 
existence, and just as serenely
they went by again, back to a more tumultuous time, where she 
and Luke were so afraid of each
other without knowing it. Back on the cliffs of the Hand of 
Thrawn, locked deep in the heart
where the water roared in their ears and threatened to end 
their new lives, she remembered his
face when she asked him to marry her, and she found that she 
could not remember a time when
she did not love him. Even as her memories carried even 
farther back, to when they had first met
and she was struggling against the rage of the Emperor's Last 
Command, she could not imagine
her life having gone anywhere else. 
     Before Luke, all it had been was aimless wanderings. 
Karrde had been the only saving
grace during that time of her life, and still she spent much 
time wandering. She thought of Cal,
of how they had worked together so well, but how he scared 
her for reasons she always felt
better than she named. There was something dark and twisted 
about him...the connections he
made, the beings that were rank with the sith. Palpatine was 
the highest sith lord in all of the
galaxy, but he did not frighten her like these men did, with 
their faces tattooed in dark and
dangerous shapes.
     And still, there was more.
     Palpatine and his training, her pledge of undying 
loyalty. The dark betrayal of the
offworlders, the execution of her parents before her very 
eyes, the feeling of something dying in
her and her, in return, forsaking something as important to 
her as her life's breath.
     Durran...was home. She could see it, as it used to be, 
when it was not forbidden to
offworlders. She remembered running through its thick meadows 
and playing with the flowers,
using the Force to make them fly around her. She remembered 
an old man, his head devoid of
any hair but his smile bright with youth. She remembered him 
teaching her the ways of the....no,
not the Force....Psyenergy. She could see the bright layers 
of energy that enveloped the world
around her, could make them move. And the old man...he had 
loved his religion. He had been
scorned and mocked for it, and her own parents wanted to get 
her away from him, afraid that
she, too, might become like him. But....Valeris?...had always 
assured her that whatever path
Yejion chose to put them on, it would be for the best. But 
her faith had died that day when
Palpatine came. She could have resisted, she had the will to 
resist, but she had given in because
she had been deceived. Only years and years later would that 
deceit come to light, but the
bitterness it could have caused had been easily brushed away.
     That was all over now. Where was she? Oh, yes, in that 
hospital room on Coruscant,
where she had spent the last days acting like a vonskyrr. 
     *Mother?* Vaiya sent to her through the bond. 
     *I am here.* 
     *Then come and see what I have to show you.*
     Mara followed Vaiya into her thoughts, and saw the man 
she had seen in her own
memories. Valeris, much older, but with his eyes still bright 
and his spirit still young, living the
life of a hermit. But he had known who Vaiya was, and knew 
that Mara was not far behind. 
He was all that was left of her family...all that was left of 
her past, before the Emperor.
     Mara opened her eyes. Maybe the whole experience was 
just too much for her, or maybe
her mind was struggling to find some way to vent all the 
emotions she'd just experienced. But as
she looked at Vaiya, who was watching her with open concern, 
she felt a sudden, overwhelming
rush of....shame.
     She saw Luke's face when she had screamed and railed 
against him, when she had said
she didn't want to remember. As surely as if a veil had been 
lifted, she could feel his pain as
accutely as her own. She had done that to him...all that 
hatred she had shown for him, that
refusal to even desire getting her life back, until somehow 
she had found it, not knowing how or
by, but just knowing that it was to be, it was what she had 
to do.
     She couldn't breathe.
     "Mother?" Vaiya whispered, her voice slightly strange-
sounding to Mara's ears. "Are
you...."
     Vaiya didn't dare finish. Mara crumpled to the ground, 
on her knees, throwing her arms
forward and resting her face on top of them. Within a few 
seconds, there was the terrible sound
of someone letting out huge, heaving sobs; sobs filled with 
more pain than all the dying voices
of Alderaan.
     Vaiya didn't know what to do. The emotions blasted at 
her so loud, like the sonic pulse of
a transistor, that she couldn't make any sense from them. 
There was just shame. A self-hatred
that seemed to threaten Mara with complete engulfment. Vaiya 
was afraid that if Mara willed it
hard enough, space itself would open for her and suck her 
into a black hole of her own making. 
     This was not her place, anymore. Only one person could 
help her now. Vaiya turned
around and headed for the door, but it slid open and her 
father was there, walking toward her
with his eyes locked on Mara. He looked at Mara in utter 
confusion, feeling her emotions as
Vaiya did, but even more baffled by them in the midst of his 
joy that Mara had returned to him.
     He passed Vaiya, who continued her walk toward the door, 
step through and then shut it
behind her.
     Whatever happened now was in the hands of God.

     This was not the reaction he had expected. He had half-
expected Mara to sit up the
second she saw him and tell him that she had already made 
herself clear, that she did not want to
love him, and wish that he had respected that wish.
     But no, she had continued to cry. In fact, she was 
crying harder now that he was here.
She wouldn't look at him, but she knew he was there. He tried 
to send her comforting thoughts,
but she pushed them away with something that felt 
like...shame?
     Unwilling to accept that, he gently lifted her up into 
his arms and held her like a little
child, letting her use his shoulder even though she refused 
to look at his face. Long minutes
passed, and Luke found himself enjoying just being close to 
her again. 
     Finally, she muttered in a hoarse voice, "I can't even 
believe you're doing this."
     "Doing what?" he asked.
     "Coddling me like this...after what I've done." He 
looked down at her in surprise, but she
wouldn't look up at him. 
     "What have you done?" he whispered.
     Finally, those glittering emerald orbs looked at him. 
What he saw there...it frightened
him. The dishonor there, the complete shame, the pain at 
having hurt him so much with her
vengeful hate....if she had had a lightsaber at the moment 
Luke would have feared for her life.
Her mouth wouldn't work, it had gone dry. Through the Force, 
he heard, *Everything I have done
to you.*
     He started. "What are you talking about? All that? It's 
in the past, Mara. How could I
possibly be angry at you for all of that? You're my wife, 
have been for almost twenty years!
What would make you think of all of that now?"
     "Because that's who I just was!" she cried, a muted 
croak. She shook her head. *There are
no words,* and then silence.
     Gently, Luke touched her mind. He tried to see around 
the heavy, blinding pain. He saw
that her heart had not changed...that she remembered loving 
him, and loved him still the same as
ever. But the pain of coming face to face with the part of 
her that she thought long dead, the part
that was the Emperor's Hand...no, it was not dead as she had 
suspected. It was still there,
waiting. Like the dark side, it just needed the right moment 
to make its presence known.
     And she hated it.
     Caught in its power, she had refused the person she had 
become, had refused the core of
her idenity just to appease the darkness. The darkness, the 
price of self, placing her *self* over
everything else, even blood and family, had ruled her, and 
she did not know how she had
controlled it. The very thought that Vaiya might not have 
been able to do what she did made her
sick, and Mara groaned.
     Perhaps her loving husband was not what she needed right 
now. Perhaps what she needed
was her teacher. "Mara," Luke said, his tone taking a 
different edge--a softer, more patient edge,
not so heavily laced with his emotions, even as love-based as 
they were.
     It surprised her. She had managed to calm a bit from her 
tears--for there were not many
tears in Mara that she could shed--but the sound of her name 
made her fall silent. She lifted her
head to look at him, fear prominent on her face. He carressed 
her cheek assuringly and gently
guided her into a sitting position, carefully positioning 
himself before her, taking her hands
firmly.
     "There's something I never told you," he began, his 
voice still that same, gently
authorative tone. "When we fought CyBoth. When you killed 
that clone of me."
     She nodded, flinching. "What about it?" she asked, her 
voice cracking as the despair
threatened to swell around her again. All the horrible things 
she'd done....
     "No, Mara," Master Skywalker said, forcing her attention 
back to his voice. "None of
those thoughts. This is about me. When we fought against 
CyBoth, he had a clone made of me,
from the hand I lost at Bespin. I had to fight that clone, 
but I couldn't because of the buzzing in
my head. But just because I was distracted, that didn't mean 
that the dark side couldn't tempt me
again. I could have killed that clone. I didn't have to 
believe that it led to maddness. There's no
proof of that, not really."
     "But you didn't kill him," Mara reminded him. "In fact, 
you offered yourself to CyBoth in
return for setting the rest of us...free."
     "Yes, I did. But I still wanted to kill my clone. I saw 
how the dark side had twisted him,
how angry he was, angry as I had been on Bespin. I saw my 
dark side, what I could become. Half
of the reason I joined the Emperor when he was ressurected--
or rather, who we thought was the
ressurrected Emperor--" he added hastily at Mara's familiar 
disagreeing frown, "was to prove to
myself that that wasn't who I was, that I could never become 
that. I found out that it was me, that
that darkness lay within me. I was capable of terrible 
things, but I had chosen the light, even
though it hurt to have my dark flaws. I had to face myself 
and accept myself as I was, set myself
to my path and never let pain or regret make me turn back or 
forsake what I had worked so hard
to build."  He paused. "Or the Academy. I know you didn't 
think much of me when I declared
myself a Jedi Master, and I know the move was very audacious, 
and the only reason it was
accepted was because of the simple fact that I was the first 
of the Jedi Knights since Ben. And
the Academy, of course. But I would never have dared declare 
myself a Master unless I felt I had
won the battle with myself. The trials of the Jedi do not end 
with Knighthood, Mara. They come
every day, and few are blessed with trails large enough to 
provide the opportunity to really know
themselves. A Master of the Force must be a master of himself 
first. Or herself. Mara, I believe
that this is your trial. You have to come to terms with 
yourself. I have always known that one
day you would become a Jedi Master. If that time is now...do 
not waste it on shame."
     "I can't help but waste it that way," Mara said with 
more than a touch of irritation. "I've
always been able to control my emotions, but this 
shame...it's different. It's a rebellion against
my own self!"
     "Then try humility," he whispered. 
     She shut her eyes. "You make it sound so easy. How does 
one be humble?"
     "I'll show you." Instantly, the Jedi Master dropped 
away, and Luke reached out to her,
pulling her into his arms so that they faced each other on 
their knees. Gently, he ran his hand
through her hair, letting his fingers relish the sensation 
they had missed for so long. "I don't care
what you've done, Mara, you're my wife and I love you. I 
wouldn't care if you had tried to kill me
again...you tried it before and I loved you even then. So 
you're just going to have to accept that
and move on, because I don't care what kind of horrible 
monster you think you have living inside
of you. I'm not letting you go. Period."
     Rarely--extremely rarely--Mara Jade had blushed in her 
life. But this was not exactly a
point in her life where any of that mattered. And as the 
blush rushed across her cheeks, a smile
played at her lips. "I can't ask you to even try and save 
yourself?"
     "Nope. I'm a completely lost cause."
     What it was about that moment, she didn't know. But 
suddenly she found herself
laughing. Laughing at Skywalker, laughing at herself, 
laughing at the two of them facing each
other, knee to knee, in the middle of a hospital room with 
probably a dozen people watching
from behind that two-way mirror. Laughing at her own 
foolishness, at Luke's die-hard affection
and loyalty to her, at the mad course the Force had seen to 
send them through. Best of it all was,
Luke was laughing with her, not in amusement, for he knew the 
joke was for her alone, but out
of joy that she was smiling again, those old sarcastic lines 
softening and yet reappearing from
under the heavy sorrowful tears she had shed. 
     "You...you really are crazy, farmboy. I don't think I 
ever really realized it until now," she
finally managed. 
     He calmed. "Oh, you realized it, I'm sure," he said, 
getting to his feet and pulling her up
with him in one quick yank. 
     "Good God, I feel like I'm twenty years younger again," 
she breathed, the laughter fading
underneath the more real, sombre joy of the moment.
     "Wouldn't it be nice?" Luke murmured.
     Then she looked up into his eyes, puzzled. "That can't 
be it," she said suddenly. "I mean,
a burst of laughter and everything is better? I forget all 
about how I was such a horrible person?"
     "You were no more of a horrible person than anyone else. 
It's just the rare few of us who
get to see it face to face. And no, this isn't it. You're 
going to need some real time to heal your
wounds. You have to learn to forgive yourself, Mara. The 
Force can forgive you, and I can
forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself if you ever 
truly want to move on."
     "I though I had moved on," she mumbled. "I feel like 
I've had such a setback."
     Luke shook his head. "They often say that you're getting 
closer to the Force if you start to
see yourself making a lot of mistakes."
     Mara's face took on a faraway look. "I heard that 
somewhere....something in Vaiya's
mind, in my past...a man named Valeris. He taught me about 
that...but it wasn't the Force." She
shook her head, her mind suddenly going all fuzzy. "So much," 
she gasped.
     "Take your time. You have the rest of your life."
     "Oh, you mean I'm going to be this weepy, blushing, 
emotional wreck for the rest of my
Force-extended life?"
     Luke laughed. "I'm willing to bet a weekend on that 
Comet Resort you refuse to go to
that you're back to the sarcastic, snarling, putting-me-in-
my-place-every-chance-you-get hellcat
that I married twenty years ago."
     "If I agree with you, that means no bet, right?" she 
asked, looking at him with a pleading
expression. "God, anywhere but that resort."
     "Callista liked it," Luke muttered.
     Mara playfully punched him in the ribs.

6--Silver Silence

     Vaiya stood alone on the observation deck. She could 
barely make out Durran from
here...just a pale speck in the mosaic of the sky. One tiny 
piece, drowned out by a million others
with brighter colors and bigger lights. But her heart knew 
where it was.
     She liked it here alone right now. She had sensed the 
reconciliation of her parents and the
calming of her mother's dark emotions. But she did not try 
and see them. They needed time to
themselves.
     So did she.
     Still gazing at the dim speck that was Durran, she 
thought about Larin. She wanted to
reach out to him, just to know where he was, but something 
stopped her. *Not yet,* a quiet inner
voice instructed her. *The time is not here.*
     Accepting it with a sigh, she rested her head against 
the glass. She wanted to go back to
Durran and finish her Jedi training, although she doubted 
that there was much Valeris could
teach her about the physical aspects of the Force that either 
he or her father had not already 
taught her. And there was little doubt that after Mother 
regained her senses and started to have
more clear memories of her homeworld, she would want to go 
there.
     Now, as she thought about Durran in a more rational 
light---for nothing about the last
few days had been rational--she noticed that they had had 
very little trouble getting off Durran
without getting attacked by Cal. After all, they had hired 
Cal to protect their space territory and
keep the offworlders...well, off. Apparently, he had either 
fallen asleep at the helm, or he'd been
fired.
     She had to smile at that thought. But it was only a 
matter of time before the man showed
his wickedly handsome face again. Vaiya felt a moment of 
pleasure at the thought of marring it
with the flat end of her lightsaber, just for fun, and 
quickly pushed it away. He had a real
vendetta against the Skywalkers. Vaiya knew the worst was yet 
to come.
     Such was the trial of the Jedi.
     She hoped Larin was okay.
     Valeris could teach her many more things than just about 
the Force, she knew. And she
found herself wanting to learn them. She had barely been 
sixteen for a month, and she felt like
she was sixty-one and sinking into the twilight of her life. 
Her mind ached, her throat was raw,
and her eyes blurred with exhaustion. Her muscles ached and 
she wasn't even moving, just
standing still. Her connection to her mother had eased 
considerably, but there was something
beyond that. Vaiya felt like she had inherited something, 
letting those memories pass through
her conscious thoughts and back into Mara where they 
belonged. The things her mother had
learned to do as the Emperor's Hand would only require 
practice for Vaiya to be able to imitate
them herself. The intelligence, the toughness of her mother 
had somehow regenerated her, had
countered the Jedi Knight that her father's half had imbued 
her with. She knew so many people
saw her father in her. It was time to show the world that she 
was part Jade, as well. 
     Young and old at the same time. This universe made 
little sense.
     She turned from the viewport, growing tired to the 
stars. They were rarely the same, but
she was as used to them as she was sunlight and air. They 
were just there, unthinking,
unchanging...and exuding the power of the Force. The Force 
that was the energy of all things,
living or likewise, the potential energy of stillness or the 
kinetic energy of movement. It was all
there, a great forcefield of power to be tapped into by 
anyone with the ability.
     People like her.
     Valeris had taught her much in the short time she was 
with him. He had shown her that
the Force itself was not sentient, but was a weapon, and 
neutral, like all other weapons. He
explained to her that the Jedi, centuries ago, had believed 
in not just the Force, but in its Maker.
The people of Durran named the Maker Yejion, but the Maker 
had other names. He was the
Maker, the Sustainer, and the Completer, the Beginning and 
the End. Although the Jedi
embraced all religions, this code had not originally come 
from their belief that the Force was
neutral and embraced all. This had come from the ancient 
belief that all races believed in the
Maker, and that the Maker was present in all races, for the 
Maker had made everything, so any
religion that followed the heart of the Jedi code was 
embraced. But over time, the belief that the
Maker was in fact existence itself had blurred the lines 
between It and It's creation, the Force. So
the Force had become the maker, and the Jedi had soon been 
lost under dark side oppression.
     The Jedi belief had not been wrong. But credit had not 
been given where it was due.
     Vaiya pulled herself from her heavy thoughts. She knew 
she believed Valeris, but she
wanted more than just this "universal explanation." She 
wanted to know why. Because as soon as
she knew why, she could pass this on to other Jedi Knights. 
Perhaps Derrin and Drianna---stars,
she hadn't even *thought* about Derrin at all, let alone 
Drianna!--would be interested. The two
of them had been awfully dedicated to their homeworld 
religions before they'd come to the
academy, and Vaiya very much doubted that they had given 
those beliefs up. In fact, even her
own father had said that he'd always known there was a reason 
he had never tried to enforce the
belief of the Force as completely supreme--he had known in 
his selfless Jedi heart that there was
something bigger, but it was not yet time for him to see.
     Maybe he had time now. Maybe Mother would, too. If 
Valeris had taught her, even as
young as she was, the same things he had taught Vaiya, 
perhaps Mother would want to learn
those things again herself. 
     Problem was...what to do in the meantime?
     Courscant was pretty fantastic, she had to admit. She 
didn't know what was more
spectacular---the starts of the coreworlds in their bright 
gem-like colors, or the way the city
under her moved, always bustling, always alive and awake. 
Maybe she should act like a teenager
again. Maybe even go shopping. Surely Drianna would join 
her....
     Or maybe not.
     Vaiya started the slow meander back to her parents 
aparments, lost in her thoughts.
When she arrived, she noticed that it had not been used the 
entire time that her parents had been
here. Except for the bed being dented slightly on Luke's side 
from the one night he'd slept here,
maybe two, nothing had been used. No cups, no dishes, no 
food, the couch was still wrinkle-free
and everything was in its place. 
     Her bag sat on the floor outside of her room. She had 
quickly changed out of her father's
black Jedi uniform after she'd seen Mara for the first time. 
It might have helped her a bit to see
her in an ordinary gray jumpsuit later on, looking very 
casual, very normal, nothing like a Jedi
knight.
     Vaiya pulled the suit out of her bag. With it came the 
lightsaber--Anakin Skywalker's
lightsaber. She'd taken them out of some childish desire to 
prove to her parents that she was just
as good as they were, just as capable of being  Jedi as they 
were, just as worthy of trust as they
were.
     *Trust...* Vaiya felt like laughing. Trust did not begin 
to cover what she had
experienced. There were things she had dismissed, things her 
brain had refused to see because
they were not meant for her to see, whether they be in life-
threatening situations or not. Maybe
she should give them back. Using them now...it made her 
slightly ill, even thinking about it.
Carefully, she draped them across the bed, placing the 
lightsaber in the center so it wouldn't roll.
Maybe if things had gone differently, her parents could have 
seen her in them...could have seen
how she was to be their pride, not their fear. And fear for 
her they did. It was more accute now
than ever before, which was rather odd because Vaiya's 
irritation with that had smoothed into a
kind of mellow saddness. 
     Her concentration was broken by someone ringing the 
small announcer at the door. Vaiya
stepped into the small foyer and checked the small screen.
     It was Drianna.
     For a moment, Vaiya just watched her. She was very 
pretty--thick dark hair that fell
down the middle of her back in a heavy rope-like braid, 
muscular build, but hardly masculine...
she had an ease about her that Vaiya rather liked.
     Liked, in fact, very much.
     She opened the door, and as it slid back to reveal her 
visitor in the flesh, Drianna turned
to her with a guarded expression on her face, as if expecting 
immediate rejection. 
     "Hello, Dri," Vaiya said, feeling extremely open toward 
the woman. Drianna started
slightly as if someone had just tossed her a potato that she 
had expected to be hot. 
     "Hello, Vai," Drianna replied, and after a few seconds 
Vaiya felt her relax. "Can I come
in?"
     "Of course." Vaiya turned away and headed for her room 
again, grabbing the bag and
hauling it back with her to the small dining room. She pulled 
out one of the heavy glass chairs
padded with expensive silver-tone embroidered pillows and 
plopped down, preparing to examine
the bag's contents. "What can I do for you?" Vaiya asked.
     There was a pause for her answer. Vaiya even glanced up 
in puzzlement to find Drianna
staring at her. "Great stars," Drianna finally whispered. 
"You were only gone a month."
     Vaiya couldn't resist a grin as she shrugged her 
shoulders. "What can I say? People
change."
     Drianna frowned slightly and shook her head. "Vaiya, you 
don't even look sixteen. You
didn't look like this when you came back with us from 
Durran...have you taken a good look at
yourself in the mirror? I swear, you've aged."
     Curiosity raised by Drianna's expression, Vaiya stood up 
and made her way to the
refresher. The large glass gave her a wide view, and it took 
Vaiya a few seconds to see what
Drianna was talking about.
     Her hair, the reddish honey color that it had always 
been, was the same. Her eyes, a
bright shade of blue green, stared back at her as usual. But 
there was something in her face. An
expression, maybe? It certainly wasn't wrinkles...except for 
that one line that had found its
permanent place between her eyebrows. 
     Okay, so Drianna was right. She had aged. But it wasn't 
a physical aging. It was all
rather...odd.
     Vaiya turned away, feeling a little spooked. She was 
getting rather tired of all the
seriousness around her lately. She sighed and shook it off. 
"I don't know...blame it on
hyperspace. What is it that you wanted?" she asked, still 
trying to stay light.
     Drianna shifted a little. "Well, this is going to sound 
a little odd..."
     "Yeah, join the club," Vaiya whispered. 
     "I just...I just wanted to tell you that...." Drianna 
started back toward the dining room,
feeling a little more comfortable telling Vaiya these things 
in more social venues, "...I wanted to
make sure that everything was...okay."
     "Okay?" Vaiya echoed, not quite getting the gist.
     "Yeah, okay. I mean, I know that you were a little mad 
when you left us, and when we
found you--or rather, you found us--we didn't really get a 
chance to say much."
     After a long pause and a very hard look into Drianna's 
face, Vaiya finally said, "You're
talking about Derrin."
     "Yes."
     Vaiya smiled. Instantly, that spooky aged-look vanished. 
She reached out and took
Drianna's hand. "Hey, don't sweat it, okay? I'm fine. 
Really." She even laughed. A genuine laugh.
Derrin...of all the things to fight over. 
     "Really?" Drianna echoed, doubtful.
     "You didn't happen to notice that I was with someone, 
did you?" Vaiya pointed out.
     Drianna's face changed from recognition to complete 
bafflement. "You mean...you and
that guy, what was his name?"
     "Larin."
     "But he left! I thought he was just hitching a ride."
     "He was."
     "But why would he leave when you were--"
     Vaiya put her hand up. "It's complicated, Drianna. I 
don't even understand it myself. But
whatever Larin needed to do, he needed to do it alone. And I 
needed to do this alone. I mean,"
and she added a grin, "we all gotta grow up sometime."
     Drianna took this in, and after a few long moments, she 
said, "I guess we do. But all that
aside, Vai," and she put out her hand, "I just want to be 
friends."
     "Sounds good to me." Vaiya took it, putting all the 
genuine warmth into the handshake
that she could. 
     Just then, the door slid open without it being 
announced. Han Solo stood in the doorway,
his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Vaiya.
     "There you are!" he said. "I've been looking for you 
everywhere!"
     Vaiya went to him and embraced him. "They told me that 
you were here for a while, but
that you had to leave."
     "Yeah, well, the life of an ex-smuggler is never dull 
when he marries a diplomat," Han
muttered as he ruffled Vaiya's hair. "You look older."
     "Yeah, we were just discussing that," Drianna said 
dryly. 
     Vaiya considered her uncle for a long moment. "Uncle 
Han, what are you doing for the
next two weeks?" she said hopefully.
     "Why?" Han asked, typically suspicious.
     "I was wondering if...you could get me back to Durran."
     "Why?" Han asked, nearly flabbergasted. "We just went 
through Kessel and back to get
you out!"
     Vaiya shrugged. "It's just something I need to do," she 
said softly.
     Han sighed. "Far be it from me to argue with a Jedi. But 
you get to tell your parents."
     

7--The Cult of Maul

     The faces made up a demonic rainbow. Yellow, green, 
blue, orange, and grey, all
mingled with black. In the center stood one with red 
markings, his head shorn like the others but
studded with a crown of short, thick horns. 
     "Soon," he said, his voice a cross between a growl and 
purr. It was not a human voice by
many standards, but their race was not a human race by many 
standards, either. "Soon she will
be among us."
     Above, Larin watched the display with a kind of 
horrified fascination. "Aren't they
amazing?" Cal said, his voice low and dripping with awe. "You 
can feel them from all through
this chamber. I can't allow anyone in anymore. They're 
starting to disturb the rituals."
     Larin leaned heavily on the rail, his eyes feeling 
thick. They'd given him some kind of
shot before, something Cal had said he needed for space 
travel, like some kind of vaccine
maybe. So far, it had made him feel pretty good, 
but....strange. 
     "Who are they?" he managed to ask, his tongue finally 
obeying his will.
     "That's the fun part," Cal said. "All full of history, 
this universe is. All you have to know
is where to look. Back a century ago, when Palpatine was 
plotting his rise to power, there were
seven of these men. One of them was Darth Maul."
     Larin frowned, confused. "Palpatine...you mean Vaiya's 
Palpatine? The one her mother
worked for?"
     "Exactly." Cal sighed and shook his head. "How difficult 
it will be to explain all of this to
you when you don't have a clue as to what I'm talking about." 
He shrugged. "Oh, well. You know
who Palpatine was...that's enough, I guess. Palpatine was 
trained by a sith lord. You know what a
sith lord is, don't you?"
     Larin nodded his head. "I've heard of it."
     "Well, Palpatine was trained with the idea of there 
being only two sith lords at one time.
A master, and an apprentice. This prevented them from 
destroying each other, what with the
nature of evil and the sith being to grasp absolute power 
over everything else. It's really hard to
work as a team when everyone is holding a knife to everyone 
else's back, you know?"
     Below, the faces had started to chant. Larin watched 
their mouths move---their tattooed
mouths, making their mosaic faces dance in hypnotic ways. He 
had to pull his eyes away just to
focus on Cal's words. 
     "---th Maul was one of these guys. A red one, to be 
exact. Red is the center of their
power. Well, he ran off to help Palpatine because Palpatine 
promised him a bunch of stuff like
ruling the galaxy and all that. Unfortunately, Maul got 
sliced in half by Obi-Wan Kenobi, who
also happened to be Luke Skywalker's first teacher. With his 
death, they had to find another to
take his place, one who wasn't completely obsessed with 
power."
     Larin frowned. "But what are they?" he asked.
     "They are...you know, come to think of it, I'm not 
really sure. I know they're a cult. They
are like the sith, but worse, if there can be a worse. They 
have a belief that their founder, who
was killed during the fall of the original sith order, was 
going to return to them to bring
destruction upon the whole of the Jedi. Kind of like a 
hairbringer of death, the end of the
universe and all that."
     "How?"
     Cal shrugged. "I just know they're useful. They are the 
ones who did the regeneration
ceremony for me." Cal grinned, stepping back. "You haven't 
even told me how young I look for
being over fifty yet, Larin. I've been waiting all day!"
     "And what was in it for them?" Larin asked, feeling all 
fuzzy in the head.
     "Oh...nothing much, really. I just promised them I would 
deliver them the female they've
been waiting for. The one who will give birth to their great 
destroyer. You see, they haven't had
much luck. They managed to find some eligible candidates here 
and there in their early days, but
she always refuses, and their prophecy clearly states that 
she must be willing or else the child
will destroy them all. Also, they have to kill the female if 
she refuses because if they don't, then
she will destroy them all." Cal laughed. "It makes for a bit 
of fun, I'll tell you that."
     Larin should have been horrified. Instead, he felt some 
sort of sick arousal at the thought.
As if he were sharing Cal's very thoughts. He felt his mouth 
begin to grin, and his eyes suddenly
grew sharper. "I can image," he heard himself saying. "So 
what made them believe you if they've
always had such rotten luck?"
     "Well, it hasn't been easy. Supposedly, their new 
leader, Darth Seth, hasn't even tried to
find a female since he took over. He mutters things about 
being patient, that he will know her
when he finds her and all that rot. But he accepted my offer-
-or rather, his brothers made him
accept it. Also, the fact that they've been banished from 
every planet in the system makes them
very grateful for a place to hide."
     "Where are they from, originally?"
     "Some planet I can't remember the name of." He shrugged. 
"I know their species is called
Zabrak. But they're not limited to that species when they 
select their members." He shot Larin a
confiding look. "They would even be willing to accept a new 
leader from another species. I tell
you, with their power, there isn't anything I couldn't 
accomplish." He slapped Larin on the back.
"Want to meet Maul's lucky replacement?"
     Larin backed away from the rim. He shrugged. "Why not?  
Nothing better to do."
     
     The one with the red face had bright glowing eyes that 
made him very hard to look at.
Even Cal winced a bit when the gaze was set on him, listening 
intently. 
     Larin, however, felt no fear as he studied him. Quite 
frankly, he found the man to be a bit
of a pompus ass, keeping his answers short and low, giving 
the whole "dark and scary" bit just
too much gusto. At least this Vader guy he'd heard so much 
about had shown some class---and
some heart. 
     His name was Darth Seth, and he had exchanged his purple 
face for the red one the day
Maul had left. He had just experience his first regeneration 
ceremony, and while he was nearly
seventy years old, he barely looked older than Larin himself. 
Of course, age was hard to discern
in youth or otherwise in that fierce mosaic of a face. But 
the skin, aside from being so brightly
colored, looked rather smooth and ageless.
     "So this is my new partner," Cal said, giving Larin 
another slap on the back. "He'll be
helping us find the right kind of girl for your cause and---"
     "Saphringer," Seth said, his deep growling purr of a 
voice sending a strange, soothing
vibration through Larin's chest, "you continue to make light 
of our quest. Such insults will not be
tolerated without reciprocation for much longer."
     Cal held out his hands. "Easy, Darth Seth. You really 
need to learn to relax. All that
brooding intensity can take years off your life." And then 
Cal's face turned so dark that it even
overshadowed Darth Seth's vicious face. The ferocity fell 
from it, the only dignity being that the
red and black tattoo kept it from falling away altogether. 
"And I will decide," Cal growled in a
voice equally malicious, "what needs to be taken lightly and 
what does not. And don't you ever
threaten me again or your little cult will be taken right 
back to that dust world I rescued you
from and fed to that sarlacc pit before you can even say the 
name Darth Maul. Is that
understood?"
     Larin watched with astonishment, and something more--
perhaps excitement, he wasn't
sure. As Seth's face returned to its normal position, with 
much more hate visible than before,
Larin felt a glimmer of admiration for the man who had just 
stood him down. The power
radiated from Cal as if he himself had just been returned to 
his youth mere seconds ago. Then,
lightly, Cal stepped away.
     "Good," he said, without waiting for Seth to reply. 
"Now, as I was saying. I know that
your advisor, Darth Knar, told you that I was the one who 
would bring you the woman your
prophesy spoke of. But he hasn't told me anything about the 
prophesy itself. Perhaps if you could
give me some detail, I might be of faster assisstance."
     Seth actually grinned. "Our prolonged presence here is 
only to your advantage,
Saphringer," he said. "The sith have survived through 
patience. I have already waited more than
half a century. I can wait one more year."
     Larin swore he saw Cal's face fall slightly, wearily. 
"Perhaps your brothers cannot," he
murmured, "but very well, then," and stepped away. "My home 
is yours."
     After they were a good distance away, Larin turned to 
Cal. "What was all that about? I
mean, you said they were so useful to you...why do you want 
them gone?"
     Cal sighed. "Because, stupid...that one, Seth, is not 
their chosen leader. It was given to
him by default. I don't even know if he knows why he was 
picked. He's been leading them for
five decades at least and quite frankly his followers are 
sick of it. In case you didn't notice, he's a
little weak. Sure, he puts on a really good face, and he's 
got all the powers, but if you meet him
toe to toe, he'll back down. They want to replace him with 
someone new. Particularly, me. And
they said that they can't do it until Seth fails one more 
time."
     Larin shook his head. "I don't understand why. I mean, 
they're evil. They can do what
they want."
     "Not if they want to survive. It's all more prophecy. 
Prophecy upon prophecy upon
prophecy. They're loaded with it. It makes even me appreciate 
the new Jedi Order. They don't
give much of a hoot for prophecy. "
     "So who are you going to feed to them?" Larin asked, 
almost hungrily.
     "I'll tell you...but first I think you need another 
shot," Cal said, gently guiding Larin back
to the med bay.
     "Oh...okay. Whatever you want, Cal."

8--Home
     
     Slipping out was not the easy task Vaiya had thought it 
was going to be. Mara's new
memories of her childhood made her want to go to Durran much 
sooner than Vaiya thought was
wise, but Luke only offered encouragement and began making 
preparations to go before Leia
could come up with enough jobs to keep Han from fulfilling 
Vaiya's request. In the end, Vaiya
gave in to her parents' wishes not because she thought they 
were the best thing, but because, in
the end, they were her parents. She had a new respect for 
them, and wished to honor that respect.
     The feeling was mutual. The entire trip was filled with 
strange conversations that Vaiya
did not really feel she was ready to have. Luke had already 
heard about all the things Vaiya had
learned about on Durran, but Mara, fresh from her ascent to 
the status of Jedi Master, wanted
every detail. In spite of her new level of self-knowledge, 
Mara was rather skeptical about the
things Vaiya told her, and many hours were spent in rutting 
debate, going in circles and
accomplishing only splitting headaches. 
     It was only a day before they came into Durran space 
that Mara finally began to feel the
first sparks of faith. But it was not so easy for her to 
accept, because Luke had taken up Vaiya's
new religion and run with it.
     In their bedroom on the Jaded Sky, Mara sat and watched 
the starlines float past her from
her favorite chair, an emerald-green velvet padded curved 
throne-like seat that was a little too
firm for anyone else's taste. Mara said that it was the best 
thing to relax against because it gave
such resistance. She was attempting her relaxed state in 
order to bring her mind to a more
meditative mode when Luke interrupted her.
     "Going somewhere?" he asked as he entered the room, 
turning on one light that cast its
soft yellow glow over Mara's back. It made the entire room 
feel warm. 
     "I was." She looked up at him, feeling disturbed. Luke 
felt it and straddled the footrest
before her, reaching for her hands. 
     "I know that I encouraged you to come on this trip," 
Luke began, "but I'm beginning to
question my own judgement."
     "Big words from the great Jedi Master," Mara said, her 
voice soft as she leaned closer to
him. But her brow was not cleared of the troubled lines that 
marred it. 
     "Are you sure you're ready for all of this, Mara? I 
mean, you've been through a lot. What
Vaiya has told us of Valeris, the things the man believes in 
and lives by and has passed on as the
true teachings of the Force...it's a lot to take."
     "Yes and no," Mara said thoughtfully. "When Vaiya was 
born, and I thought I was going
to die...when I saw Callista die and become one with 
the....light...I saw the Light, Luke. I know
that was Vaiya tells me is true. I just don't know how I feel 
about it."
     "You mean you don't know if you like it?" Luke gently 
pointed out.
     Mara gave a very slight shrug, and her head bowed, a 
genuine act of humility. "Perhaps
that is so."
     Luke reached out for her and caressed her hair, pulling 
the great crown of it to his lips
and kissing it, a comforting guesture. "You never cared much 
for the Force, either, or for Jedi
Knights. And yet you served Palpatine with such loyalty, and 
he was the worst of them."
     Under other circumstances, the words would have cut her 
to the quick. She would have
snarled back something nasty and then made a derrogatory 
comment about the new order of Jedi
Knights following a God they didn't even know not being much 
better. But instead, she frowned
thoughtfully. "Perhaps it was because of that that I don't 
like this idea much. Palpatine demanded
not just loyalty, but worship. Most sith lords were like 
that, from what I understood from history.
Power denied was power wasted. Palpatine sought absolute 
power. The idea of a creature with
this absolute power, coming sheerly by its nature...it makes 
me uneasy."
     "But this is not a creature we're talking about. 
Palpatine was a mortal, flawed man. He
was capable of failure. What a God is supposed to be is an 
archetype. A Supreme Being, a peak
of all existence, even existence itself. Incapable of wrong, 
but not indifferent to what It has
created. It is not flawed. It's very essence is perfection."
     "Then explain all the little gods we've run across in 
all the different cultures we've seen,"
Mara challenged. "What makes them different from this real 
God you talk about? Aren't they
supposed to be better than us?"
     "You can easily tell that they were made up because the 
gods are as flawed as the
humans who worship them. A true God is not flawed. And there 
can be only one. That is why It
has so many faces and names."
     "How do we know this God isn't made up, too?"
     "Faith."
     The answer startled her. Mara pulled back. "Luke, you're 
scaring me."
     "Mara, it isn't so different than what we already 
believe. We sought the Force as our
guide, as our maker and our ally. We have merely been shown 
that the Force it also a creation,
its purpose to bring us closer to its Master. The essence of 
what we seek to be, the definition we
hold of goodness and light, hasn't changed. We still seek to 
be selfless, to serve. That is what we
thought the light side of the Force asked us. We have merely 
found out that it is not the Force
itself, but the Maker of the Force."
     "But how do we know that there isn't something still 
higher than this God Vaiya talks
about? How do we know that we're going in the right 
direction? What if something bigger comes
along and says it made the Maker of the Force? What then?"
     Luke shook his head, trying not to show his amusment. 
"You're scared, Mara. It's okay to
admit that you're afraid."
     "Damn right I am!" Mara said, her voice rising a notch. 
"Do you know what you're asking
me to do?"
     "To not let your fear stop you. Mara, you have never 
given in to your fear. Why are you
fighting this now?"
     "This is different. This is beyond me. I can't do this 
alone." She paused. "And I'm scared
that you'll leave me behind," she said softly.
     Luke smiled, his blue eyes dark and soft. "Mara, you are 
my wife. I love you more now
than on the day we were married. I will continue to love you 
even more as we go on, because I
will not be loving you just with my own heart any longer, but 
with the grace of this God who has
finally shown Itself to us. We will gain everything, if only 
we are willing to lose ourselves. Can
you see this?"
     "I want to," she whispered. "But I'm scared."
     "Then pray," Luke said as he held her close. "Pray for 
grace to accept it. Because I know
in your heart, you do believe."
     "I do," Mara said, her voice strained with distant pain. 
"I just hope I can live up to it."
     Luke smiled. He knew the day would come when he knew 
Mara better than she knew
herself. "We just need time," he soothed. And they had time. 
They had all of eternity.

     They dropped out of hyperspace a good several hours 
distance from Durran. The planet
appeared as little more than a very bright star in the 
distance. Mara was in the pilot's seat,
carefully considering the situation. They had joined together 
and felt through the Force for any
sign of Cal, and had found nothing, but still they hesitated. 
The Durranians must be tired of their
offworlder interference, even though they had disturbed 
nothing but the sands of their desert,
where they sent all they banished. But Mara didn't like 
sneaking in and out like criminals.
     This was also the first time she had gazed upon her 
homeworld with the knowledge of its
idenity. Luke could sense that she didn't like the fact that 
she felt so rejected by it, simply
because they would call her an Offworlder. She wanted to make 
some sort of contact with them,
but had little idea how to do so. 
     Vaiya sat in the copilot's seat, her thoughts following 
the same manner, although for
different reasons.  She just didn't want to be chased away. 
She wanted to reach some kind of
peace with this people, rather than sneak in and out like a 
criminal. And after all, she was half
Durranian. She had a right to be on her homeworld. Surely 
there had to be something they could
do.       
     Then, as she gazed out into the peaceful dark, she said, 
"Maybe we should head in
slowly."
     From behind her, Luke shifted. "But keep our distance in 
case they get hostile."
     "They won't get hostile," Mara said, her voice taking on 
a strange quality, as if she were
speaking through some sort of distorted commlink. It had a 
hallowed tone, and it made both her
husband and daughter look at her. "Trust me," she said, the 
tone vanishing as quickly as it had
arrived. "Let's just let them know that we're here."
     So they slowly made their way toward the planet. It took 
a full hour before they could
make out its face, filled with rich green and blue lines that 
faded into black where its sun did not
send its rays. Toward the lower half Vaiya could see a great 
patch made up of different shades of
white. As they got even nearer, she could see a particularly 
bright white spot, and her heart told
her that it was where Valeris was, waiting for her to return. 
     Suddenly, Mara brought the craft to a halt. They weren't 
so far now, close enough to be
easily detected by the simplest radar. They were far from 
orbit, however, and both Vaiya and
Luke looked to Mara in hesitation, wondering what she sensed 
that they did not.
     Within a few minutes, the small craft started to come. 
They were seven of them, all
painted bright blue and green, streaked with the red and 
white symbols of their government.
There was one larger than the others, and it slowed to hover 
a rather close distance before them.
     "Unidentified craft, please state your intention."
     Vaiya felt her eyebrows raise. Mara was right, they 
weren't going to be hostile. In fact,
they seemed to be slightly hesitant as they confronted the 
Jaded Sky.
     "This is the Jaded Sky," Mara said, her voice smooth and 
confident without any of her
cold harshness that she had been known to use to intimidate 
those who were new to her. "My
name is Mara Jade Skywalker."
     There was a static pause. "Jade," came a new voice, this 
one much older. "As in Valeris
Jade?"
     Vaiya felt her heart leap into her throat. "Yes," Mara 
said, still calm. "I am his
granddaughter."

     The captial city of Durran was known as Reyan, and it 
was a beautiful city. It reminded
Luke a bit of Coruscant, but not so large, and the buildings 
were more pointed and less square.
As they neared the landing port, the buildings began to look 
like pyramids, framed with a heavy
slate grey stone that was nearly black in color. The Jaded 
Sky approached a wide plane of open
space that was flanked with small blue lights, as if to 
inform the pilot of its location.
Surrounding them were more buildings, and everything was 
plated with mirrors in some way.
Many of the glass panes had a distinctive color--red, blue, 
gold, even irridescent. The main
building was adorned all in the silver glass, and the panes 
had all been etched with a frosty white
substance. Luke used his Force-enhanced senses to get a 
better view, and noticed that there were
figures of all types, set up as if to tell a story.
     Part of their escourt landed before them, and Luke 
noticed that the Durranian craft had
wheels on their landing legs and had to roll across a bit of 
the open plane before they came to a
halt. The Jaded Sky set itself down delicately, like a bird 
coming to roost on a flat rock. A few
more of the small craft slid to a stop around them.
     Vaiya was first down their ramp, and there was an ornate 
guard surrounding their
spacecraft. They were looking at it as if they were trying 
not to notice it, but they had not seen
something like the Jaded Sky in a quite a long time. It was 
rather fascinating to them to see
something familiar, but at the same time unknown. Vaiya, 
dressed in a simple grey flight suit,
nodded at them, taking in their metalic clothes with their 
plates of glass placed here and there,
looking more like a suit of armor than decoration. Maybe it 
wasn't glass, Vaiya pondered, or
maybe it was a kind of glass that was far from delicate in 
nature. It was braced around their
knees and their elbows, and they wore wide collars of it, 
exposing necks covered with what
looked like metal cloth. The same cloth covered their arms 
and then hung down before them like
loincloths, front and back. High boots of shining black and 
matching gloves contrasted the rich
silver, and they wore helmets that looked more like silver 
crowns with the same metal cloth
draped down their backs.
     The guard parted and someone approached, someone 
important. She wore a rather plain
white cotton material, with long sleeves and trousers, but 
the same loincloth design as the
guards. The cloth was set off by a silver belt, collar and 
boots. Her thick hair hung over one
shoulder in a braid shot through with the same silver 
material. Her hair shone with bright red
streaks, but toned down to a rich brown when she stepped into 
the shade. On her head was a
silver circle of a crown with a single red jewel in the 
middle of her forehead. 
     She spoke in a polite tone, but her words meant little 
to Mara or Luke...Vaiya, however,
understood the gist.
     "<Welcome....I am Iyala, Aide of Reyan, and Liason of 
the Senate. I greet you.>"
     Slowly, hesitantly, Vaiya answered. "<Many thanks, Aide 
Iyala. We thank you for your
greeting.>"
     From behind her, Vaiya felt her mother's mind begin to 
whirl. Apparently, she had
managed to retain some of her native language, or else it had 
all been upheaved in her memory
with her recent experience. "I think you repeated yourself," 
Mara whispered.
     Iyala stepped closer to them, her expression heavily 
guarded. "<You claim to be from
Durran,>" she said, her tone patient, "<and you speak our 
words, but you do not know them.
What is your purpose for coming here and risking our wrath by 
breaking our ban against
offworlders?>"
     "<We are not offworlders,>" Mara said, broken but 
understandable. "<We have
Durranian blood. I was taken...from my home here when I was 
only......ten and four years of age.
I have only now been able to return. I ask to be permitted to 
visit my homeworld. It is the place
of my birth, and I...respect that.>"
     Iyala came even closer. She gazed at Luke, and then at 
Vaiya, her eyes focused hard on
the pale color of their hair. "<This is your husband and 
child,>" Iyala said. "<You have made
family with offworlders.>"
     "<Yes,>" Mara said, stepping closer to Iyala, putting 
her hands before her over her chest,
a sign of respect she just barely remembered. "<When I was 
taken, the ban had not been placed.
I did not know of the laws, but these are my family.>"
     "<It was not your will to leave,>" Iyala said.
     "<No.>"
     "<But it is not your will to remain.>"
     "<It is my will to know of my home,>" Mara said, a bit 
more feeling in her voice than she
expected.
     "<Your home is not here. Your home is with them.>" Iyala 
faced her, her face a mask.
Vaiya could sense that this was some sort of a test. "<What 
do you hope to gain from this risk?>"
     "<My home is with them, and their home is with me. I 
have lived on their worlds and
know of their history. I wish to let them have knowledge of 
mine. Do your laws prevent this?
Must I break with my family in order to know my homeworld 
again?>"
     Iyala's mask-like face shifted slightly. "<Such a 
situation would make it difficult.>"
     "<A Durranian never breaks with family for any reason,>" 
Mara said, "<It is against the
code. It would be as wrong for me to desert them to remain 
here as it would for me to desert here
to be with them. But if you asked me to choose, I would 
leave. I wish no disrespect to the laws of
my people.>"
     Finally, the mask fell away, and Iyala smiled. Then she 
turned to Vaiya. "<Child of
offworlders, your mother speaks wisely. But now I ask you, as 
you are the blood of Durran and
of this stranger, where does your loyalty lie?>"
     "<My loyalty lies in the Will of Yejion,>" Vaiya said 
with grace she had obviously
inherited from Leia. Luke felt himself smile as Iyala's face 
seemed to glow.
     "<You invoke the name of God,>" Iyala said. Then she 
backed away. "<Then this is not
the place for you. You must appeal to the Church of Yejion 
for protection. They will not deny
you.>" She bowed, and then gazed at Vaiya again. "<I ask the 
honor of your name.>"
     "<Vaiya Jade Skywalker.>"
     "<Life of the soul, your name means. Did you not know 
this?>"
     Vaiya cast a quick look at Mara and raised a delicate 
brow. Mara simply stared back,
mildly astounded. 
     "<I know little of my people outside of their religion, 
and my knowledge of that is
limited as well,>" Vaiya replied. She sighed, feeling weary. 
She didn't want all this attention.
She just wanted to see Valeris.
     "<Grana Vaiya,>" Iyala said, and Vaiya assumed the word 
"Grana" was a term of respect,
"<Perhaps you would grant me an introduction to your 
father.>"
     Finally, Iyala's eyes rested on Luke. The expression in 
them was pure wonder. Vaiya
turned. "<This is my father, Luke Skywalker. He is what is 
called a Jedi Knight.>"
     "<Jedi,>" Iyala said, turning the word over. "<Such a 
beautiful word. He holds himself
like a priest.>"
     "What did she say?" Luke whispered. 
     "She said that you hold yourself like a priest." Vaiya's 
mind began to whirl in spite of her
exhaustion. "Valeris told me that the Yejion Priests were 
trained in the Psyenergy. They're
almost exactly like Jedi."
     "<Forgive, Grana Vaiya, for I know that your father does 
not speak our language. But
perhaps you could tell him that if he wished, he could learn 
from the Yejion Priests. If he is
strong in the Psyenergy, he could learn in a short time.>"
     Luke cocked and eyebrow. "I think we need to appeal to 
the priests," Vaiya said, and then
turned to Mara, who was looking around her, her face nearly 
glazed over from the effort it took
to take everything in. "Iyala said they would be able to 
grant us protection."
     "I hope they're friendly to offworlders," Mara said, and 
then smiled at Iyala. "<Would you
take us there?>" she asked. 
     Iyala smiled and nodded. "<Gladly. The Priests have been 
trying hard to have the ban
lifted and bring offworlders to Durran once again. They will 
be joyful in your presence.>" Iyala
turned and gave a few orders, and within a few minutes an 
oval shaped car floated down to
them. Iyala guestured for them to enter, and she followed, 
taking the controls from the back. She
sought out Vaiya's eyes, and then gently lifted her silver 
band of a crown to reveal a tiny tattoo
on the very peak of her forehead. It was a triangle with its 
sides concaved in toward the center.
She smiled. "<My uncle is priest of Yejion. He consecrated me 
when I was an infant.>" Then she
paused, as if embarrassed. "<Perhaps I might ask, have you 
been consecrated?>"
     Vaiya puzzled over the word, "<consecrated.>" "<I do not 
believe so,>" she said
apologetically.
     Iyala shook her head. "<Do not worry, Grana Vaiya,>" she 
said. "<All that is needed for
salvation is a willing and repentant heart. Everything else 
comes from that, and the Will of
Yejion. In your heart, you are already His.>" The craft 
lifted into the air, and Vaiya watched as
the grand buildings began to drift past her, wondering when 
she would get to see Valeris.
     *Patience,* a soft murmuring voice soothed her. *All 
things in patience.*

9--The Order of Yejion

     The fact that everything had gone on so smoothly so far 
was starting to concern Mara as
they approached the temple. It was a beautiful building, 
different from those around it. Instead of
being paned with the frosted glass, it was smooth and simple, 
made of the heavy blackish-grey
stone with thick white veins shooting through it, and in 
three of its lateral faces was a giant
traingular window with mosaic-like patterns cut from multi-
colored glass. The temple spread
wider than the other buildings, and was even a bit taller, 
with a large portion of it cut out from
one of its triangular faces. The wedge was lined with 
mirrored columns, an apparent rarity. A
huge lawn surrounded it, dotted with small fruit trees and 
flowers that were all some variant of
yellow or orange. 
     "<This is the First Temple,>" Iyala explained as they 
neared it. "<None of the other
temples are as ornate at this one. But all of them are 
designed like this. The flowers grow only
on this continent...they cannot be found anywhere else on our 
entire world.>"
     Mara contemplated the temple, trying not to feel awed. 
Yes, this place was definitely
special, but it was not exactly what she had been looking 
for. She turned to Vaiya, but the girl
was practically enraptured, as if the temple were the 
physical manifestation of a vision that had
haunted her forever. 
     "<How soon will we land?>" Vaiya asked eagerly.
     Iyala picked up a small speaker beside the controls and 
began speaking into it hastily, her
words flying a little too fast for them to follow. Finally, 
she turned to them. "<Elder Yreyn has
given us permission to land in the main port. He will greet 
us there.>" She looked a little awed.
"<He said he's been expecting you.>"
     Right now, Mara didn't find that too surprising.

     The inside of the temple was rather simple. It was much 
bigger than it looked from the
outside, for it turned out that the entire pyramid was being 
supported by smaller columns so that
the place had a very airy feel. The mirrored columns that 
lined the wedge that had been cut from
the front of the pyramid were the size of  the gaint redwoods 
on Yavin, maybe even a bit bigger.
It even turned out to have more than one floor--where the 
four windows shed their light was
actually a separate room, the highest temple reserved 
strictly for worship. It was even called "the
Place of Yejion."
     Elder Yreyn reminded Vaiya instantly of Valeris. He wore 
the same kind of simple linen
robe, reminiscent of the old garb that the Jedi had once 
worn. Father whispered something to her
about Ben Kenobi, and Vaiya could see the possible 
resemblence. However, this man's silvery
hair topped dark-toned skin. In fact, compared to any of the 
Durranian natives, the Skywalker
family was positively pale.
     "<Greetings, Walkers of Sky,>" the Elder said, and Vaiya 
felt a sudden burst of
amusement from both her parents. The Elder simply smiled, and 
directed his attention on Mara.
"<Greetings, lost child of Jade. In the name of Yejion, we 
welcome you back to your home.>"
     Mara placed her hands over her chest and gave a slight 
bow. "<Thank you, Elder Yreyn.
But I fear that our coming may only give you trouble.>"
     "<In the House of Yejion, there is never trouble, for 
all things are in Peace with Him.>"
The Elder smiled, but there was a touch of weariness on his 
face. "<I am glad that Iyala has
brought you here. You will be safe from persecution by the 
Council, I can promise you. They
would not dare to exile you from this house.>" He then turned 
to the people who surrounded him
at a distance and gave a few orders to bring fresh robes and 
water. Then he escourted them
deeper into the temple, into a large room with plush chairs 
colored the tones of the flowers
outside. "<Please rest,>" he implored them. "<We will prepare 
a meal for you. Surely the
distance has made you hungry.>"
     Mara allowed herself to settle into one of the chairs, 
and Luke followed suit, still
following the conversation strictly by emotion. The Elder 
approached him and sat down before
him, and Mara could sense him stretching out with his mind. 
Luke responded, but it was an
effort, and finally the Elder reached out with his hand, and 
Luke placed his on top of it.
     *Gron Skywalker,* the Elder sent, *You are a Jedi. This 
is known to us, even if the order
has not existed on this world for a hundred years. We welcome 
you, and we offer you a gift. Our
native tongue.*
     Mara watched in astonishment as the Elder sent Luke the 
entire language through the
Force. It took several minutes...in fact, by the time they 
parted, the food had arrived and Vaiya
had already dug into it. 
     "Welcome," the Elder suddenly said in basic, and he 
turned to Mara and Vaiya. "Is this
how you always speak?"
     "Usually," Vaiya replied, wiping her mouth. "The rest of 
the galaxy uses it to keep things
simple."
     "I have heard it before," the Elder said. "It becomes 
more familiar the more I speak it.
But it has only been a half a century. Not long enough to be 
completely forgotten."
     Mara sighed. "<Forgive me,>" she said, looking at the 
Elder, "<but I must confess that I
am impatient. Isn't there supposed to be something more to 
this? I mean, Aide Iyala gave me a
big test when we landed here, talking about loyalty and 
family and everything and I can't help
but wonder...there has to be something more to this. I mean, 
it can't be this simple.>"
     "<Simple things make you distrustful,>" Elder Yreyn 
said, trying to hold back a smile.
He turned to Vaiya. "<And you, child. Do you find all of this 
simple?>"
     Vaiya turned her attention back to the conversation, 
having been lost in the beauty
around her, as well as resisting the urge to get up and find 
the way to the higher temple, the
Place of Yejion Iyala had told her about. "<I feel I do not 
know enough to judge,>" she said.
"<But I confess, I wish to see my Great Grandfather, Valeris, 
again, as soon as possible.>"
     At the name, the Elder stiffened. "<Elder Valeris...he 
still lives? By the Spirit, he must be
at least a hundred and twenty by now.>"
     "<Yes, he was the one who gave me shelter in the desert 
when I first came here, and
taught me about Yejion.>"
     The man smiled. "<The old hermit always was a teacher at 
heart. Did he tell you why he
was exiled?>" he asked, casting a glance at Mara. 
     "<He opposed the ban on offworlders after his grand-
daughter was kidnapped,>" Vaiya
replied.
     "<That is only half the tale. Valeris was the only Elder 
ever exiled. We tried to give him
protection here, but he would not stay. The real reason he is 
in the desert is because he was told
to go. He was the last of the great Mystics of our Order, and 
he had a vision of Durran becoming
the seat of a new order, one that brought back the days of 
the Jedi. He believed that the one
would come who would return Faith to the Jedi Knights, the 
one Yejion had chosen to proclaim
His Power.>" Elder Yreyn sighed. "<The Jedi placed so much on 
visions. It was part of their
downfall. They paid too much attention to detail. Every dream 
becomes a vision, and that is
simply not the case.>" Then he glanced at them all. "<If you 
are of Valeris' blood, then perhaps
you, too, have visions.>"
     "<The Force,>" Luke said, his voice low but confident, 
"<is filled with visions. It shows a
Jedi the past and the future. Jedi Knights are trained to pay 
close attention to visions. Even seek
them.>"
     Mara gave a little snort. Elder Yreyn said, "<While not 
in itself wrong, Jedi Skywalker,
this path can be dangerous. Visions are unreliable many times 
when they do not come from
Yejion. Valeris had visions all the time in his youth, until 
he was nearly driven mad. He had to
learn that many times they could not be taken literally, and 
sometimes they must be ignored
altogether. But when Yejion began to send His messengers to 
him in his visions, it was then that
he learned what was truth and what was not. Only then did he 
retreated to the desert. To wait,
perhaps, for you, Vaiya Jade Skywalker.>"
     Vaiya sighed and rubbed her temples. "<Perhaps,>" she 
said, suddenly feeling very tired.
"<Visions can be a bigger burden than many believe.>"
     Luke looked at Mara, remembering the vision he had had 
of her before she had lost her
memory. She had been wearing the same clothes, right down to 
the boots. She had looked at him
with the same hatred as she had many years ago. But in the 
vision, she had tried to kill him. It
had not come to pass...perhaps it was only a symbol.
     "<Yes, filled with symbols,>" Yreyn agreed, as if 
reading Luke's thoughts. "<Symbols
can deceive us. The destroyer wishes us to distort them so 
that evil comes to pass. Perhaps you
have heard of the cult of the destroyer? They swim in their 
visions. Those who are false prophets
always cry that they have had visions. It makes prophecy 
quite weak and unreliable.>"
     Luke felt himself nodding. Yes, many old Jedi prophesies 
had been distorted by false
visions. And prophesies themselves were as plentiful as the 
stars in the sky. 
     "<Then what are we do to?>" Mara asked, her voice 
suddenly small.
     "<Pray for guidence to discern,>" the Elder replied. He 
glanced at Vaiya. "<Perhaps you
would stay here some time before you return to Valeris in the 
desert? There is much that we can
teach you here that perhaps you could not learn from him.>" 
He stood up and walked over to her.
"How old are you, child?>"
     "<A few months past sixteen,>" she replied.
     He started a bit. "<That young? You seem older.>" Then, 
gently, he touched her forehead
with his thumb, right where her hair peaked on her forehead. 
"<You profess faith in Yejion...has
Valeris consecrated you to Him?>"
     Subconsciously, Mara touched her forehead. An old memory 
came to mind, but it was
too foggy to discern it. 
     "<I do not know of what you speak,>" Vaiya said with a 
frown, but then remembered the
mark on Iyala's forehead. "<He did not give me the mark,>" 
she offered.
     Elder Yreyn nodded. "<I urge you to stay with us some 
time, then,>" he continued. "<I
believe that Valeris would agree.>"
     Vaiya considered this. She looked at her parents, and 
took in the look on her mother's
face. "<I believe,>" she said after a few moments, "<that 
first, we should find Valeris. My
mother has waited a long time to be reunited with her family. 
And I wish to see him again. But I
promise to return as soon as possible.>"
     "<That is acceptable. Do you wish to leave now or to 
wait until the morning?>"
     "I don't know about you, Mara, but I'm exhausted," Luke 
said, reaching out for Mara's
hand. Mara looked back at him and nodded.
     "Me, too," she sighed. "I can wait one more night." She 
turned to Vaiya. "Is that all right
with you?"
     Vaiya nodded, and felt herself getting ready to yawn. 
"Works for me," she said. "<Elder
Yreyn, perhaps first I might be allowed to see the main 
temple?>"
     The man nodded. "<Although you cannot take part in the 
service without consecration,
you are always welcome to observe. Come with me.>"

10--Symbol Stew

     The morning light was beautiful as it streaked through 
the colored panes of glass. Vaiya
knelt on the soft pillow she had brought with her in a pool 
of blue light that spilled onto the
floor. She had been meditating for an hour now, and all she 
could find was this feeling of peace.
     It was far from a bad feeling, as far as she could 
possibly get. But she had sought
something more concrete, something deeper. The service had 
been wonderful, but being unable
to participate had kept something from her.
     For the first time in forever, Vaiya was jealous of her 
mother. Late the other night, Vaiya
had been called into her parents chambers and had found Mara 
in the refresher, staring into the
mirror with delight. It was an unusual sight, and even more 
unusual circumstances. A small lock
of red hair lay on the rim of the sink, and Vaiya could see 
that Mara had shaved it from the peak
of her forehead, and underneath the shaved hair was the same 
symbol that had graced Iyala's
forehead--the triangle with the sides concaved in. 
     So she had been consecrated, probably in her infancy. It 
turned out that all the followers
of Yejion were consecrated in infancy, and that the lock of 
hair was continually shaved back
throughout a follower's lifetime. Luke laughed about how the 
old Mara would have been
outraged that such a thing had been done to her outside of 
her will, and that Mara gave her
pledge to no one but whom *Mara* *chose* to give it to. In 
response, Mara had playfully hurled
her brush at him. 
     Of course, it had been a long time, and Mara knew 
nothing about what lay behind the
symbol. She was kept back from participating in the service 
as well until she could be "re-
educated." That soothed Vaiya's jealousy a little.     
     Of course, the fact that she felt that everyone was 
suddenly out of character was enough
to throw her balance off. But she had grown used to adjusting 
to her parents' mood swings. The
fact that they had suddenly decided to follow Vaiya on her 
quest for religion would have been
surprising under ordinary circumstances, but now that she was 
beginning to learn about a thing
called grace, she didn't feel the need to question anyone.
     Except maybe herself.
     She wished she could see Valeris.
     There were a few oddly comforting things that were 
familiar. The first thing Mara had
done that morning was begin her investigation about 
Callista's child. It was hard, because even
though the temple wasn't isolated from the mainstream by any 
stretch of the imagination, the fact
that they were offworlders, tolerated solely because they 
were under the protection of the Order
of Yejion, was enough to badger their search. Iyala, who had 
returned as soon as the temple had
opened, had offered to take up Mara's search outside the 
temple walls. Elder Yreyn promised to
do what he could, but no one really had any idea how much 
that promise meant.
     Vaiya kept her suspicions to herself. Elder Yreyn was a 
fine man. Obviously, he and
Valeris had once been friends. But as for influence...well, 
it was hard to tell.
     She shut her eyes and took several deep breaths. All of 
Yreyn's words about visions
danced through her head, and she tried to focus solely on the 
sense of peace inside of her. She
used her old Force meditation techniques, hoping to expand 
them outward as she had done in the
past. But it seemed that Yejion had other plans for her. As 
she contemplated all the many things
she had learned over the last months, she tried to fit them 
together so that they formed some sort
of pattern. She was trying to discern whether or not to go 
running out to Valeris now, or to wait,
and was rather enjoying the peace of the meditation when she 
did have a vision.
     It was brief, but very clear. As if someone were showing 
her a hologram of a person, only
the person was in the flesh. A man in black stood some 
distance before her, his face a mask of
red and black lines, all reaching for his forehead and the 
blunted crown of horns that grew from
his skull. His eyes were not on her, but looking off in the 
distance, and seemed almost reptilian
in nature. His mouth was set in a dangerous sneer, but it 
seemed to lack inner conviction.
     Then, slowly, the eyes turned to her. Instead of glowing 
a bright yellow-green, they
darkened into a rich shade of forrest green. The angry line 
of his mouth softened, and his entire
face seemed to shift, as if lifting the mask from it even 
though it was still painted on. She saw a
human being under the mask, or rather, right through it, as 
if the mask were not there, even
though it was, plainly.
     She opened her eyes. The sun was already reaching its 
climax, and her stomach was
rumbling. For a moment, however, all she could do was stare 
into the empty space around her,
trying to gather herself together. The vision had not 
disturbed her, but she felt as if a fascinating
puzzle had just been ripped from her grip. It was only when 
Luke's light footsteps approached
that she stirred from her position on the floor. 
     "They're getting ready to serve lunch," Luke said as he 
approached his daughter. "I don't
know if you can smell it from up here, but it reminds me of 
the barbecues my uncle used to have
when I was young, right after harvest." He glanced up at the 
beautiful temple columns and
through the heavy windows. At the peak of the room, there was 
a beautiful altar carved high into
the wall, gently framed with a thick purple and crimson 
curtain made of some soft material they
called "velvet." Niether Luke or Vaiya understood the altar 
and what it contained, but they
respected it, and kept their voices low. 
     Vaiya looked up at her father. The clothes that the 
Durranians had given them were all
the same--plain white linen trousers, and simple tunics, each 
dyed a different color. Luke wore
some sort of dark blue, Mara's was green, and Vaiya's was a 
rich red-violet. The linen seemed to
be a specialty of the city, and it was very comfortable. The 
fact that the colors were right for
each of them was something Vaiya chose to dismiss. The fact 
that they had not been given any
shoes was something she noticed.
     "Do you like it here?" she whispered, brushing the last 
of the needles from the muscles in
her knees from kneeling too long.
     "What's not to like?" Luke asked, slightly dreamy. "They 
treat us like kings, Vaiya. Or
should I say, queens. Mara is happier than I've ever seen 
her, although we're still searching for..."
and he paused, almost hesitating to give Callista's son his 
adopted name, "Valery."
     Vaiya shook her head. "I like it too, but...I don't 
know. Some things don't make sense. I
mean, you used to tell me that Obi-Wan Kenobi used to appear 
to you and talk to you, and that
you saw Yoda and your own father during the celebration of 
the Rebel Victory. Why didn't any
of them ever tell you about this?"
     Luke contemplated that for a moment. Then he said, "I 
never spoke to Yoda or my father.
Leia saw him once, and he spoke to her, but that wasn't much. 
Ben and I only had two or three
real conversations, and in both cases we never talked much 
about the afterlife. Right before I
met your mother, he told me he was moving on, that he was 
leaving me to go deeper into the
Force. Maybe because of the way he'd spent his life, fighting 
for the right cause but ignorant of
the real truth, he was being given time to make up for that. 
Maybe it was a kind of...purification
for him. Maybe even in his death he was still having to 
search. I don't know." Luke looked down
at her, slightly perplexed. "There are a lot of things about 
this that I don't understand, Vaiya. But
I am going to stay and learn as much as I can. I just...know 
that it's right. It's not just a feeling.
It's more than that."
     "Grace," Vaiya whispered. 
     "Maybe." He paused. "What about you? Are you going to 
stay, or are you going to go find
Valeris?"
     Vaiya took a deep breath. "Mother needs to find him," 
she said. "I will go with her first,
but I will return as soon as she finds him. I, too, want to 
learn more. I want to be consecrated."
Then her voice took on an errie quality. "I have to be, if 
I'm going to endure the trials ahead."
     Luke touched her shoulder. "Did you see something?" he 
asked.
     Vaiya turned to him and gave him a small grin. "I'm 
trying to take all my visions with a
grain of salt, Father," she said wryly. "After all, I haven't 
exactly had the best of luck."

11--Seth
     
     He came out of the vision with a start. That was not 
what he had expected. It disturbed
him. Hell, it didn't just disturb him. It shook him to the 
heart.
     But that was what they were waiting for, the five of 
them. For the last fifty years, they
had been waiting to pounce, and they might get their chance, 
if that Cal Saphringer got his
fingers any deeper into their spines. They had already 
bestowed upon him their mystical favors.
How much longer before they moved to make him their focus? 
Before Cal usurped him and took
on the red and black mask?
     Of course, it was not his by right. He had received it 
when he was rather young, for the
oldest, Darth Knar, had thought that he had great potential. 
He was the only one as strong and as
skilled as Maul in the art of combat, and he had a trait that 
Maul had abandoned in favor of
using the art of fear. The art of seduction was more useful 
to the Cult of the Destroyer. It
accomplished their purpose. Maul had posessed it early in his 
life, but had badly abused it. His
leaving had been inevitable--even Seth had seen it, as young 
as he was. Maul was too focused on
power. He cared very little for the honor the cult. Although 
he would never admit to being so
power-hungry, like Darth Sidious had been. He claimed he 
desired revenge on the Jedi for what
they had done to the Sith, even encouraged the cult to take 
up the cause. But no, that was not
what the cult had wanted to do, and in an effort to gain 
power over their leader, they had chosen
Seth, barely a man, to be their leader.
     Their puppet.
     Darth Seth stepped down from the ledge, away from the 
dizzying view of the stars.
Saphringer's ship was definitely worthy of their presence, 
with its twists and turns, its core a
labyrinth of catwalks above the endless abyss of space, with 
only a forcefield between a falling
victim and the infinity beyond. How many enemies did the man 
have to employ such a trap? But
the sith cult had no fear of falling, not with their dark 
Force powers. 
     He rather liked it here. It gave him a feeling he was 
beginning to miss. An awe for the
universe around him, something his brothers felt was 
overrated. After all, the Destroyer was
going to turn all to chaos. Why glory in something that was 
destined to fall?
     That was why they thought he was weak. Because he 
posessed something they sneered at
called "sentiment." Perhaps they were right...a decade ago he 
would not have dared admit the
fact to himself, but the vision he had just had had thrown 
off his discipline, and he found himself
not just admitting the thought but reveling in it.
     What they thought were his weaknesses, he told himself, 
were actually his strengths.
After all, he had survived as leader of the cult for so many 
years, more than any other leader.
Most had been cut down by traitors or outsiders. Patience and 
prudence had kept them safe, kept
them hidden from other dark lords who wished to rule over 
them for their own ambitions--sith
lords like Palpatine, Vader, and even Maul, their own 
brother.
     Yet none of this would soothe his shaking heart.
     The vision had been quick and fierce. A woman with hair 
the color of honey and eyes
like blue gems was standing before him, the same woman who 
had haunted his dreams for his
entire life. In some she was almost an angel, come to claim 
vengence on him, and then finding
herself unable to because his hands were unstained with 
blood. The only blood he had ever
claimed were those of the animals the cult had used to gain 
power. And he found in those
dreams that he was proud of his purity in spite of his dark 
magicks and tainted Force abilities. 
     In other visions she was a wanton woman, begging him to 
take her and make the child
that would consume them all in glorious chaos. In others 
still, she was a warrior, defeating all
who came near her, but melting at his very touch. In some 
dreams he had to work hard to seduce
her, dominate her, even break her. But in all of them, he 
found himself loving her with an
intensity that felt like it would rip his heart from his 
chest.
     Childish dreams, many of them. But relentless in their 
coming. They would not leave
him, and so he waited, even against the cult's wishes. He 
waited for her. She was his destiny. 
     This vision was different. 
     She was dressed in the purple garb that they had saved 
for her for three hundred years. In
her hands, she bore a lightsaber that looked almost like 
Maul's, but the blades that came from it
were a bright violet. She swung the blade, and the cult was 
brought down in a mass of light.
Then she turned to him, and he begged her to strike him down 
as well, for now he was weak and
helpless. Without the cult, he had no power. Instead, she put 
away her saber, and turned.
     And left him. Alone.
     Seth shut his eyes and forced the vision back. He would 
not yield. Even though they
wanted him to, even though they waited to tear him down, to 
destroy him, he would not relent.
He was not weak, not like they said. He had been given the 
horns for a purpose. They were his
by destiny's right. The Destroyer had chosen him; it was not 
the default that the others believed.
He was in his rightful place. The cult had survived twice as 
long under his leadership than under
any other. No other leader could boast of that. And it was 
all because of his weakness that they
had survived, his "lack of ambition," his "lack of 
bloodthirst." Let them sneer at it, but they owed
their very lives to him.
     As Seth turned away from the dark chasm below, he made 
himself believe it yet again.
And just like every other time, the stone shield of his soul 
was given yet another crack.
     
     "Are you sure this is the place?" Mara asked as they 
leapt from the speeder and followed
Vaiya over to the low stone wall that looked like little more 
than a giant rock sticking out of the
sand. 
     "I'm sure," she said, and used the Force to feel out the 
door and push it open. Gently, she
dropped to the floor of the old cathedral, showing her mother 
and father how to follow her. 
     For a moment, Vaiya was lost in her memories, and half 
expected Larin to step from the
shadows and welcome her home. But the moment passed. Larin 
was...well, only Yejion knew.
And she was here. And she had a few introductions to make.
     She made her way through the dark tunnel, and saw the 
warm glow of firelight from the
main hearth. Almost unconscious of her parents' presence 
behind her, she stepped into the large
room, her eyes scanning the ring of large chairs that 
surrounded the hearth.
     In his usual chair sat Valeris. He looked up, his eyes 
catching the glow from the firelight
and reflecting it in the green orbs. He smiled...it wasn't 
such a rarity to see Valeris smile, but the
kind of smile made Vaiya's heart leap with joy.
     She went to him and embraced him. "I have come back like 
I promised," she whispered,
"and I've brought someone with me."
     "I know. I've been waiting." Valeris looked up at his 
granddaughter, and Vaiya swore he
saw tears on his cheeks. "Mara?" he said, his voice 
uncharacteristically hoarse with emotion.
"After all these years...it is you."
     Mara was struck speechless, but they could feel her joy 
through the Force. She took one
step forward and threw her arms around her grandfather's 
neck. 
     She was finally home.

12--Eighteen

     Life traveled slowly, but the months were full. Mara 
stayed with her grandfather for a
long time, at least six months, and ventured out only when 
Vaiya was consecrated in the First
Temple. The peak of her hair was shaved back and the golden 
lock was braided and cast into the
small spring that ran underneath the temple, a sign of 
Vaiya's burial of her old life. On the bare
skin the seal of Yejion was placed, painlessly and joyously, 
as the tiny needle made a swift,
curving stroke against her skin. Iyala, who had stayed close 
to Vaiya during her instruction, had
gladly taken the honor of her spokesperson, declaring that 
Vaiya was ready to being her new life
as Yejion's follower. She even placed the silver ring with 
the dark purple stone on her forehead,
an object to be worn only in times of celebration. Iyala was 
the only one who wore hers
constantly, for reasons even Vaiya didn't quite understand, 
but felt she had plenty of time to
learn. 
     Mara and Luke began the long process of gaining 
acceptance on the Durranian world.
Because Luke was the brother of the Chief of State, 
apparently his word carried some weight,
and the Durranian council agreed to begin negotiations to 
open their world back up to
offworlders. At first, Luke was amazed at how easy that had 
seemed, but then became aware of
the fact that just because the city of  Reyan had agreed to 
think about it didn't mean it would be
done in any small time. 
     Ambassadors were sent to Durran by the New Republic, and 
Luke and Mara, after
making sure that everything could go on smoothly without 
them, and after Valeris' refusal to
return to the main temple even though he had come for Vaiya's 
consecration, returned to Yavin
IV. The whole trip kept them from the rest of the galaxy for 
nine months.
     There was one Elder, who was probably the youngest, 
named Syrian, who was the only
one among them who carried a lightsaber. Vaiya had been 
introduced to him before she had been
consecrated, but until her parents left, they had not met 
again. One evening, he came to her after
services.
     He was not exactly handsome by most standards, but he 
had a physical presense to him
that Vaiya found rather striking. He was much darker than any 
of his fellow Durranians. In fact,
he was such a deep, rich brown that he made everyone else 
look positively pale, and Vaiya
herself as white as the veins in the grey stone that 
surrounded them. Perhaps that was what made
him the most striking, she thought. He had a very low, gentle 
voice, but she had heard him yell
once or twice and did not relish to ever be on the receiving 
end of it. He seemed almost a bit too
large in his muscular frame to be able to exhibit the 
spritely qualities, but she had watched him
practice his lightsaber skills with a few protegees and found 
him to be extremely gifted in his
movements. 
     "<Greetings, Grana Vaiya,>" he said, placing one hand on 
his heart in respect. Vaiya
quickly placed both hands over her heart in deferrence. She 
was hardly a guest, but she lived in
the temple purely at the pleasure of the Order. 
     "<Greetings, Elder Syrian,>" she replied, rising. 
     "<Perhaps you may find me to be 
slightly...presumptuous,>" he said, and it was nearly
amusing to watch this big man show bashfulness. "<But I have 
come to you for a reason. I know
that you are what they call a Jedi. I was wondering if you 
were planning on continuing your
physical training.>"
     Vaiya found herself searching for the right words. "<I 
have been trained since the day I
was born,>" she replied. "<I felt that my spiritual growth 
needed more attention.>"
     "<That is very true, and one must always grow 
spiritually.>" He took a deep breath, as if
deciding to just blurt it out. Vaiya was sensing some heavy 
overtones from him. Apparently, he
was not liking what it was he had to say, but he was 
compelled to say it. "<But physical skills are
also necessary. They keep the discipline ripe, and they 
cannot be allowed to atrophy. Forgive my
arrogance, Grana Vaiya, but I must request, as an instructor 
in the physical arts of the Psyenergy,
that you return to your training. I will give you two hours 
of my time every morning. I would
simply request it, but I am afraid that I have been given 
strict instructions that you attend, and
cannot risk your refusal, which I can feel that you are about 
to give me.>"
     Vaiya listened carefully, feeling Syrian's emotions. 
Yes, he was right, she would have
refused. But the way he put it...it was so urgent. She 
sighed. "<Very well, Elder Syrian. I
appreciate your bluntness, I honestly do. My father would 
agree with you. He and I practiced a
little while he was here, and he almost didn't leave because 
he knew I had no intention to return
to it.>"
     "<Yes, I saw you and your father practicing. You are 
extremely gifted, Vaiya. You are
called to be a warrior, that I can see.>"
     "<Wars do not make one great,>" she replied softly.
     "<No, but we do not seek to be great in the Order or 
Yejion. We seek only to serve. Some
of us are called to physical service. Perhaps there is a 
great trial awaiting you. You are not even
eighteen years of age. Your whole future still lies before 
you uncertain.>" He smiled, showing
large, brilliant white teeth. "<In this place, it is very 
easy to think of life as only one day at a
time. It is something we must strive to remember when we are 
outside in the world.>"
     Vaiya found herself smiling. He couldn't be too much 
older than her, maybe a decade. He
reminded her a little of Larin...and then she had to push the 
thought out of her mind. Lately, the
thought of Larin disturbed her.
     "<Did I say something to offend?>" Syrian suddenly 
asked, his eyes wide. 
     "<No, Elder. I was simply thinking about the past.>"
     Syrian clucked his tongue. "<The past and the future are 
the greatest hinderences in life.
Come, perhaps we shall begin a few lessons tonight. There is 
nothing like exhausting yourself
with exercise to make you forget about yourself.>"
     Vaiya nodded and followed. It didn't sound like such a 
bad idea.

     For the next year, Vaiya trained with Syrian. He taught 
her many things--how to stay
focused, how to concentrate on more than several things at 
once, and even how to wound with a
lightsaber without killing. That one, Vaiya had a feeling, 
would prove to be the most useful.  
During those months, Vaiya lived in the temple like one of 
the Elders, attending services and
meditating daily. The Elders lived together like a group of 
monks, and had their own separate
quarters, but there were others, both men and women, who 
served the Elders and lived in a
similar way to them, even though they could not perform the 
rituals like the Elders could. There
were also no women Elders...Vaiya found that curious, but she 
did not sense any inequality
between the Elders and the older women of the small 
community. The entire feel of the place
was that the greatest among them was the one who served 
everyone else. 
     During this time of training and prayer, Vaiya built her 
own lightsaber. 
     It was a slow process, because Vaiya could not figure 
out how to build it. She began with
a simple, single blade, pale violet in color and very 
beautiful. Purple seemed to stay with her--
even the clothes that were provided for her were some shade 
of purple. They had given her her
own sort of uniform when she had been consecrated, a pair of 
simple black trousers and a tunic
made of a thin version of the thick velvet that graced the 
altar, in the same red-violet as her old
linen tunic. She carried the saber on a traditional halter 
belt, and became the only other occupant
of the First Temple (other than Syrian) to do so. No one 
objected--in fact, it seemed to gain her a
bit of respect that she wasn't sure she was comfortable with. 
     One night, three months before her eighteenth birthday, 
Vaiya was in the temple doing
her daily meditation. She had spent much of the day in 
vigorous activity, because Syrian had
given her the task of cleaning out some of the pantry rooms 
underneath the temple, just to keep
her humble. She had been getting a little too much attention, 
he thought, and didn't want it to go
to her head. Because Vaiya had a little problem, which she 
explained ran in her family. She had
anger in her. At times, she worked with her anger, fought 
with it, let it give her strength. She had
a few light burns on her hand from where she had gotten a bit 
carried away with it and Syrian
had had to stop her quickly before she did some real damage. 
     So she rested in her meditation, forcing all her muscles 
to relax against the resistance of
the heavy wooden chairs in the temple. Usually she knelt, but 
her muscles lacked the strength
this day. As she sat, she shut her eyes, and without her even 
being aware of it, she fell asleep.
     A man entered the temple, his brown robe pulled down 
over his head, hiding his face in
shadows. Quietly, he approached her, and gingerly seated 
himself in one of the chairs, only a few
places away from her. Vaiya turned her head, momentarily 
startled by his entrance, and even
more curious as to why he was so close to her, since there 
were many more seats in the temple
and the Elders were always so respectful of private space. 
But she simply smiled and turned
herself back to her meditation.
     "The time of trial is coming," the man said, speaking 
basic. The sound made Vaiya turn
her head again. 
     "Every day is a trial," Vaiya heard herself respond.
     "This is true. And one day lived is another trial 
overcome. But this is different, Vaiya."
     She frowned. "Do I know you?" she asked.
     "You know my Master. He has sent me to you." The lowered 
face lifted, but Vaiya could
still not see it. "I bring a message."
     Vaiya's heart began to pound, and she had to quench her 
fear. Gently, almost timidly, she
reached out with her mind toward the man, and caught a 
glimpse of pure, unabashed light. She
pulled back, awed.
     "Who are you?" she whispered.
     "A messenger." The face turned toward her, and she could 
see a tendril of hair slide out
from under the hood. It glowed like living fire. "Listen 
carefully. My Master speaks to you. He
says: I command you to return to the desert, to the 
Cathedral, where my servant Valeris waits for
you. There you will listen to what he has to teach you, for 
this place will not protect you when
the hour comes for you trial. Only his wisdom will be your 
guide, for I have chosen him as my
gift to you. 
     "Before you leave, you will add another blade to your 
weapon. You will recieve
resistance for this action, because my Order is an order of 
Peace, and a lightsaber with two
blades is a weapon of war. But you will fight a war, Vaiya, a 
war in which you will be my army,
my general, and my victor. And no matter what you see, 
remember that I am present in all
things, and strike never in your anger, for you cannot judge 
the soul of a man. Only I can judge,
for I am the only Judge, and the Ruler of all hearts. So says 
Yejion, the Creator, the Sustainor,
and the Completer of all things." And then the man's eyes 
began to glow a brilliant, divine blue,
and Vaiya saw a face so terrifyingly beautiful that she 
suddenly felt as if she were going to die
by its very sight.
     Vaiya awoke with a start, shaking. She took serveral 
minutes to calm herself, for the
violence of the vision---no, it had not been a vision. She 
glanced to her left, where the man--no,
not a man, but an *angel*--had sat, and reached out to touch 
the heavy wood of the seat. It was
so warm it nearly burned her fingers. 
     Vaiya stood up, filled with something she did not 
understand but did not question. She
had work to do.

     Syrian was very sad to see her go, but he did not 
question her. Before she went, as she
had been instructed, Vaiya constructed another blade for her 
lightsaber. Syrian raged against her
for this, but she calmly ignored him. "A two-headed weapon is 
a weapon of war!" he cried, just
as predicted. "A single blade is made strictly for defense, 
but if you make a weapon with two
blades, surely you will be tempted to strike first!"
     Vaiya felt the urge to respond to him, shoot back at him 
her reasons and lord it over him
that she had been given personal instructions by Yejion 
Himself, but she did not. That would
have defeated everything, and Vaiya had no wish to defeat 
herself so soon.
     She returned to Valeris in the desert, and there she 
stayed for three months, learning from
him all that she could. Valeris was not at all surprised that 
she returned. In fact, he seemed to be
waiting for her. 
     
     Iyala contacted Vaiya a week before her eighteenth 
birthday. She urged Vaiya to return to
the First Temple, because that year was a celebration year 
and all the 18 year olds of the
community were given a special blessing. Vaiya hesitated at 
first, but after praying on it, and
after Iyala told her that she had already sent work to Luke 
and Mara to come, she agreed. She
asked Valeris to come with her, but the old man would not say 
one way or the other. Vaiya
simple assumed that when the time came for her to leave, he 
would either go with her or not.
Vaiya did not question him. After all, the man was over a 
hundred and twenty. He knew his own
mind. 
     Iyala contacted her two nights before the ceremony and 
told her that her parents had
arrived, and brought with them her friends Drianna and 
Derrin. Vaiya had not thought about
Derrin in a long time. Funny, how odd it made her feel, 
knowing she would be seeing him again.
Even after all this time, there was still a spark of feeling 
for him.
     During the three months in the desert, she had come to 
the temple once a week, and only
for the service. Valeris did not come with her, no matter how 
she pleaded. Whatever his reasons,
she had to accept them as well. But when time came for Vaiya 
to leave for the First Temple, one
night before the service so that she could go through a 
special purification cermony, Valeris
suddenly begged her to let him stay in the desert for one 
more night. He knew it was an
inconvenience for her to leave for the purification 
ceremonies and then come back the next
morning to get him and return again, but Valeris never begged 
for anything and the humility he
showed floored Vaiya. She agreed, more out of love for him 
than anything else. Only he could
have asked her such a favor and gotten away with it.
     She went through the purification rituals and then got 
up at dawn to leave and pick up
Valeris. As she struggled not to get herself dirty--and 
barely succeeded--as she made her way
through the cathedral and into the main room of their 
underground home, Vaiya suddenly sensed
something.
     A boy. No more than ten, maybe eleven, and strong in the 
Force. He had thick brown hair
and somber grey eyes. He stood beside the hearth, beside 
Valeris' favorite chair. He watched
Vaiya with a knowingness that frightened her, and as she 
approached, she suddenly understood
why Valeris had begged for one more day.
     The old man smiled at her, his old teeth still white. 
"Vaiya Jade Skywalker, meet your
brother...Valery Ben Skywalker."
     
13---Reunion

     "It has been two years, Seth," Darth Knar rumbled from 
his place at their dark table.
"Two years we have patiently endured, as you have asked. We 
can wait no longer. The dark
powers say it must be today."
     Darth Seth resisted the urge to sneer at them. Instead, 
he said, "I agree, Darth Knar. All
the elements are in place. She is in the First Temple, 
preparing to celebrate her eighteenth
birthday. She is in her prime, ripe for our taking. All we 
have to do now is act."
     If he didn't know better, he would have thought that 
Knar was gaping at him. "Finally,"
the man whispered.
     "Yes, finally," Seth snapped. "You have had two years to 
perfect this plan. I suggest you
get it into motion. We only have hours before she is within 
our reach."
     It was almost amusing, the way the five sith lords 
scrambled to their places. Let them
scramble, he thought to himself. All that he needed was to 
reach forth and pluck her from them.
It was all taking place, as he had been promised.
     Soon, he purred.

     Derrin shifted uncomfortably in the large temple. Or 
rather, it was the fact that he was so
comfortable here that made him uncomfortable. Luke had shared 
visions of this place with him,
but he knew his memories were pale comparisons to the beauty 
of it. Beside him, Derrin's ever-
faithful companion, Drianna stood, waiting anxiously for 
Vaiya to appear.
     "Where is she?" she whispered, her eyes darting over to 
Luke and Mara, who just smiled
at her assuringly.
     "She went to go pick up Valeris," Mara whispered back. 
"For some reason he insisted on
coming at the last minute." She snorted, and then smiled with 
affection. "I guess I know where
all my stubbornness came from."
     "I think I see her craft," Luke said, putting a hand 
over his eyes. There was a speck on the
horizon, and it was coming closer, quickly. Yes, it was 
Vaiya's speeder. It hovered into view, and
then landed on the nearby dock. But there was another 
craft...this one had a large, dark shadow.
It was coming in a little low, and was a little too big for 
the landing space...maybe....
     Too late, Luke caught it. Mara pulled her lightsaber 
from her belt purely by instinct, but
it was nothing against the blast that took out the first of 
the giant redwood-like columns. Vaiya's
speeder hit the ground hard as it was caught in the rolling 
shockwave, and she barely kept it
from crashing. Immediately, the four Jedi Knights lept into 
action, charging their way toward the
speeder. They all had the same terrible feeling.
     Whatever it was, it had come for Vaiya.
     Luke looked up. The craft was unfamiliar, but at the 
same time he recognized it. It was
long and silver, like something from old Naboo. It moved 
quickly, almost disappearing in the
bright sun because of its liquid-like surface. Some sort of 
illusion? he wondered, but there was
no time to contemplate it. The ship seemed too large to 
manuver its way into an attack position,
but within a few seconds Luke saw what its main objective 
was.
     A hatch in its underbelly slid open, and four single 
speeders dropped out. They charged
at Vaiya's craft, not attacking but instead surrounding, as 
if they wished to capture her rather
than kill her. 
     By then, the small band of Jedi had reached the speeder, 
and they found themselves
inside the attacking circle. Durranian troops were beginning 
to show themselves, offering some
resistance with a few heavy blaster bolts here and there. But 
the riders of the speeders were not
ordinary attack troops.
     They were sith lords. 
     Luke caught the glimmer of red as they drew their 
lightsabers to easily deflect the
defending bolts. One of them swooped down like a bird of prey 
and caught something that was
squirming its way out of Vaiya's speeder, a human figure that 
Luke could not discern, save that it
looked like a child. He rushed forward, but he could not use 
his Force abilities to fly, so there
was little he could do besides watch.
     Behind him, he heard Vaiya scream. 
     It was an outraged scream, and Luke turned to see her 
staring up at one of the sith lords
carried its charge back into the Naboo cruiser. She pulled 
something from her belt and ignited it-
-a violet lightsaber. So she had finally made one of her own. 
Callista's old yellow saber had long
since been abandoned on Yavin IV, the night she had run away 
from her home and began her
path that eventually led her to Durran. Now she had her own, 
and she was using it.
     Luke caught the dark rumble of rage through the Force, 
but Vaiya saw it and disappated
it with a short burst of Jedi calm. Then she raised up her 
saber--the handle was awfully long,
Luke noted uneasily--and began to defend herself.
     One of the sith lords lept from his craft, and Luke 
caught a black and orange face streak
past him as another one of the craft rounded upon him. Mara 
was trying to get Valeris out of the
wrecked speeder safely, and Drianna and Derrin were 
attempting crowd control as the fourth sith
lord used innocent bystanders as shields. 
     All around him was chaos. And then, he could feel Cal 
Saphringer, as surely as if the
man were standing before him, sneering down at him from the 
ship, his hands holding some
giant weapon with a violet-white glow. He tried to check his 
reflexes, tried to bring his
lightsaber up in time to sheild him, but there indeed was no 
try. His saber was not wide enough
to deflect the blast.
     Then all was silent.
     
     Vaiya finally had her feet under her--physically if not 
emotionally. Valeris was unhurt,
that much she knew. And Valery was still alive, even though 
he was now up in the body of the
ship. What did they want with him? The poor boy had just 
finally made it through the desert,
even though he was only a little more than ten years old, and 
now he was gone again, kidnapped
by some unknown enemy that seemed to be more interested in 
capturing than killing.
     Then, she heard it.
     *Do not fight them, my love.*
     My love? What was going on? As she rounded to face the 
sith lord who landed in front of
her, taking in his green and black patterned face, she felt 
an errie sense of deja-vou. She knew
this face, even if the color was wrong. And she knew the 
voice, even if she didn't see the
speaker. 
     The red saber charged into her, but the blow was not 
designed to harm her, but rather to
herd her in a particular direction. She felt her feet 
slipping on the debris that surrounded them,
and her concentration slipped as she realized her mind was 
open too far, and there was too much
going on around her.
     All was chaos. She had to block it out and concentrate.
     Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone standing 
on the ramp that extended from
the belly of the slender silver ship. Someone very 
familiar...something with dark hair and dark
eyes, to match a soul equally dark in caliber.
     Cal Saphringer.
     He had something in his hands that stretched across his 
arm and on to his shoulder, a
large, cannon-like weapon of some sort. He was grinning 
manically, as if all of this were some
sort of hologame that he controlled. He aimed, and Vaiya 
watched as her father fell,
unconscious.
     "NO!" she screamed. 
     Mara's firey red head whipped around as she watched Luke 
fall. Her eyes, green flames,
found Cal, and her rage rippled through the Force, making 
Vaiya stumble.
     "MONSTER!" Mara screamed, and charged, using the Force 
to propell her up into the
ship. She was in mid-air when Cal casually raised his hand 
and shocked her with Force-
lightning. She crumpled, and was promptly caught in the Force 
as Cal pulled her toward him.
Then he reached down and picked up her father by the scruff 
of his tunic, hoisting him up into
the ship. 
     Derrin and Drianna weren't far behind Vaiya, trying to 
defend the innocents, but badly
outnumbered. The two sith lords had rounded on them, and were 
beating them back, using the
bystanders as distractions. Drianna took a heavy blow with a 
chunk of the crashed speeder and
fell. Derrin followed when he let his anger get to him and 
charged at both sith lords at once.
They promptly knocked him flat with a double-dose of Force 
lightning.
     Now she was alone.
     Vaiya made a vicious slash at her attacker, sending him 
stumbling. This was all that
Syrian had trained her for. This was her moment, her battle. 
She had to win...all depended on it.
But there were too many. They closed in on her, all three of 
them, with the fourth returning from
the belly of the ship to join them. Cal was above her, 
laughing, and she ignited the second blade
of  her saber, determined to give them the best fight of 
their lives.
     For a few moments, it was glorious to watch. She managed 
to get all her attention on the
battle and moved like she was truly one with the Force. She 
anticipated, she jumped, she struck
and she lunged. She hurled debris at them and made them bring 
the fight to her, one at a time.
But she was outnumbered, and her focus was slipping because 
all she could think about was her
parents, her friends, and her little brother that she hardly 
knew, alone and afraid in the hands of
these sith lords.
     Finally, a piece of the piping from the speeder struck 
her in the back of the head, and she
fell, her lightsaber crashing down beside her, both violet 
blades withdrawing at once.
     *Soon,* she heard the voice say, its dark, soothing 
sound melting into oblivion. *Soon.*

     She was more beautiful than he had ever imagined. 
     Dressed in the rich, Durranian purple velvet, with her 
hair loose and flowing around her
shoulders, fighting like a tiger, she was everything he could 
have hoped for. He was almost
disappointed when she fell, but sent a reassurance to her 
that now, it would not be much longer
until he was with her.
     Now, she lay in the room they had prepared for her, 
anticipating her intial resistance, but
hopeful that she would come around soon. They had spread a 
heavy blanket over the single bunk
that floated in the center of the room, and she rested on top 
of it, her face dirty and smeared from
the battle. 
     Regaining their breath, the four sith warriors watched 
Seth with caution. She had given
them a run for their money, and they were respectful. But she 
had been a little too resistant for
their liking. In tune with their thoughts, Darth Knar spoke 
for them.
     "We hope this is not another mistake, Seth," he said. 
"All of this preparation will not be
done in futility."
     Seth just shook his head. "All the years you have over 
me, Knar, and still you do not
understand patience. This will take time, but I promise, it 
will be worth it."
     "You will not fail this time," Knar replied, and Seth 
heard the threat in his tone. He
looked at him, and used his fierce mask of red and black in 
the same way he had many times
over--to intimidate. His eyes brightened into their intense 
yellow-green, and his jaw clenched.
He lifted his lip into a sneer that shifted over his entire 
face. Knar simply looked back, his eyes
trying to match the fury in Seth's face but failing. He 
backed away, holding the gaze, and then
left the room. 
     She stirred. A low moan escaped from her lips as her 
body struggled against the damage
that had been wrought upon it. The blow she'd been dealt had 
been a hard one, but perhaps it was
better this way. With the weakening of the body often went 
the weakening of the will. The
prophecy said she had to be willing, but it did not say *how* 
willing.
     He deactivated the forcefield and entered the room. His 
desire to touch her was
becoming overwhelming. He ran his gloved hand over her hair, 
then slowly down to her face, her
neck...she seemed to stir against his caress, and her eyes 
flickered open, unfocused, glazed. She
turned her head in an attempt to clear them, but the movement 
only brought her pain. She
groaned again, this time louder, and he touched her mind with 
his own, using old techniques to
soothe some of the pain. Her face, which had become clenched 
in agony, relaxed, and he could
see her beauty again. 
     Taking several deep breaths, she finally opened her 
eyes, and they had cleared. She
blinked several times, attempting to focus. Those eyes, a 
bright shade of blue and green mixed
together, raked over her surroundings, struggling to make 
sense of where she was.
     He touched her mind again. *You are safe,* he sent, and 
was surprised at his own
tenderness. 
     Her eyes jerked to him, as if surprised to see him 
there, and he could feel the confusion
in her mind. Why hadn't she sensed him? Were her powers so 
easily disrupted? And then, slowly,
as they rested on them, they widened.
     Recognition.
     She *knew* him. Seth felt his heart begin to pound as if 
he were only a child again, the
anticipation and pleasure temporarily freezing him into 
place. The fact that she would know him
as surely as he knew her had not occured to him, but it 
mattered little. It made perfect sense
now, as her gaze locked into his. Niether of them spoke for 
several long minutes, and he could
feel her mind whirling around him, struggling to remember, 
then discarding the battle because
she knew with certainty that they had never met, but that she 
had seen him in a vision.
     In a vision. The thought filled him with delight, and he 
felt himself begin to smile. It was
not something he did often, except maybe in disdain, or when 
he meant to frighten his
opponents. 
     Hesitantly, he raised his hand to the hood that covered 
his head and gently pulled it back,
revealing his horns. Her eyes widened again, and this time he 
felt a flicker of fear...no, not fear.
Something worse.
     Repulsion.
     His smile faded. He was tempted to pull the hood back 
over his head again, but resisted.
Out of pride, he stepped closer to her.
     She was surprised by the movement, and pulled herself 
into an upright position, in spite
of the price she knew she would pay. Her face contorted again 
as she fought back the pain and
was forced to stop, now stuck sitting upright on the bunk 
with her legs swung over the side, her
thought to jump off it entirely abandoned. His face fell in 
disappointment in spite of his attempts
to keep it level. But to her credit, she managed to maintain 
her calm as she realized that further
movement away from him would be impossible. In a few seconds, 
her fear was gone, and he felt
her curiosity begin to rise.
     "Where am I?" she whispered, as if it hurt to talk.
     "Where you belong...with us," he replied, his normally 
deep, husky voice sounding very
small in his own ears.
     She began to relax her muscles, beginning with her toes 
and working her way up until he
saw her shoulders slump a bit. The very beginnings of a smile 
formed on her face. "That doesn't
exactly help. Maybe you can tell me how I got here."
     He frowned. So they had hit her even harder than he 
thought. "What do you remember?"
     Her eyes turned away from him, looking inward as she 
sought to answer his question.
What did she remember? Something about a boy with grey eyes, 
such pleasure at seeing him
even though she had never met him before, either...a 
sarcastic, inward comment about this being
the day for those sort of things. Then...nothing. Just a haze 
of confusion. She turned her eyes
back to him and her shoulders gave a slight shrug. "Not 
much," she finally said, her voice rising
above the whisper. "Maybe you can tell me why I'm here. 
Unless the answer is the same."
     He regarded her curiously. This was not what he had 
really expected, although the
pleasure of their first few moments was reward enough for all 
his waiting. The feeling of that
pleasure was rather alien to him, and worse than that, even 
dangerous. He was glad that Darth
Knar was not here to observe it.
     In spite of all that, he did not cast it away. There was 
something about her...something
more than what his visions had told him. His lips twisted 
into another smile, this one more
rueful. "Perhaps," he said, his voice sounding more natural 
and confident now, "you need some
rest. Then I would be glad to tell you anything you wish to 
know." He gave a little bow, turned,
and left.
     "Wait!" she called, and then a small groan escaped from 
her again, the loudness of her
own voice hurting her ears. He turned back, his eyebrows 
raised expectantly.
     "Yes?"
     "I...I don't even know...your name," she managed, her 
hand clenching the side of her
head. 
     It was his turn to widen his eyes. A name...how could he 
have gone all this time and not
thought of that himself? All these years, he had never 
thought of her as having a name. She just
was, to him. Nothing more or less. "Seth," he said. "Darth 
Seth."
     Her face softened. "Vaiya," she returned. "Vaiya Jade 
Skywalker."
     He nodded. "A pleasure, Vaiya. But please...now you must 
rest. I will return soon."
     She nodded, and suddenly her expression turned guarded 
and her thoughts closed to him.
"Very well, Darth Seth."

     Well, this was a fine mess.
     Mara paced the small cell, surprised at her own ability 
to do so despite the ravages of the
Force lightning. Her new clothes were scorched. The tan linen 
pants that the Durranians had
given to her had dark streaks across the thighs, and the 
white sleeveless tunic was smudged with
charcoal. The only saving grace was the fact that her bright 
green jacket with the gold
embroidery along the outside sleeves was relatively intact. 
     Not that she cared much at the moment about her clothes. 
She was trying to send away
the last of the pain and remain calm, and those were the easy 
parts. The biggest obstacle to her at
the moment was her complete rage at Cal for yet again having 
ruined her life. 
     They had injected her with something, that much she 
remembered. It was some sort of
drug, but something had told her that adreneline would send 
it out of her system, so she had
beaten the tar out of her bunk, which sat in ruins behind 
her. Surely they had heard the noise.
Someone would be coming soon.
     Luke wasn't anywhere that she could see, but she could 
feel him. He was alive, struggling
against his own pain and searching for a way out. He was 
probably somewhere down the hall, as
far away from her as Cal could get him. Well, let him try. If 
he hadn't learned that she and Luke
were inseperable by now, he would never learn. It would just 
have to backfire on him like it
always had.
     But she was not afraid. Of that she was certain. She was 
not afraid for herself or for
Luke. They were Jedi Masters, after all...she was even 
impressed with her ability to think of
herself in that way without flinching. It was not a statement 
of pride or purpose, but of ability.
They would escape this, as they always had. And even if the 
didn't, even if Cal killed them--
which he would probably try when he realized how pathetic his 
efforts to separate her from
Skywalker were--it would make no nevermind to her. He would 
still not win this private war he
was waging. And lately she had the feeling that she had 
nothing to fear from death.
     Someone was coming. Someone who felt slightly familiar, 
but had a dark stench around
him, as if he were not himself but something evil had taken 
control of him. Mara got as close to
the forcefield as she could to look down the hall, and caught 
the sound of a laugh. Whoever he
was, he was not alone. Two of those sith lords were with him. 
     She shuddered, in spite of the fact that she wasn't 
afraid. Those sith lords, with their
tattooed faces and their bright yellow eyes. She knew 
evil...she had spent too much time around
Palpatine not to recognize those who aspired to his evil 
status. But there had been things she'd
deliberately forgotten, brought to light only by Vaiya having 
to return her memory to her.
Palpatine had had a mental stench like that, as if there were 
something else controlling him,
something beyond himself and his evil. Something that made 
Palpatine look as dumb and witless
as an ewok. 
     The party of three appeared before her cell, and Mara 
found she recognized the third
member, even though she had not offically met him before. 
     Larin.
     "Hello, Master Skywalker," he said, his entire voice a 
sneer. His eyes, all colors and yet
no colors, shone brightly with a chemical maddness. "I hope 
you're finding your chambers
comfortable."
     This wasn't right...Vaiya knew this man. This wasn't who 
he was! Surely Cal had done
something to him! Mara's face went from her usually hard 
expression into a softer one of shock.
     "What are you doing?" she whispered.
     He laughed, a high-pitched sound. His grin became so 
wide and all of his teeth showed,
and he stepped closer to the cell. Mara caught the smell of 
him...he hadn't bathed in some time.
The grime hung off of him in wet streaks. But through it all, 
he was poised rather calmly. It was
unnerving, the gentle maddess he seemed to be caught up in. 
She had never encountered this
before.
     Then she realized as her arm began to burn where they 
had injected her that this was
what the drug was supposed to have done. This was what Cal 
had attempted to do to her. Well,
he had failed, and she guessed he knew it. Now what?
     He rasied his hand and deactivated the forcefield. The 
two sith lords stepped forward and
grabbed Mara, one at each arm.
     "Taking you to your destiny, my ex-mother-in-law-to-be," 
he laughed. "And Dad gets to
watch." He turned and pointed, and Mara saw the other two 
sith lords drag Luke out of his cell.
"It's time to party like it's the end of the world, Mara 
dear. Because I can guarantee you, it is."
     
     Vaiya lay on the bunk, distantly knowing that something 
was wrong. Her parents were in
trouble, her little brother was being held in isolation 
somewhere, and she was locked in this
place with the man from her visions standing outside her 
door.
     Or rather, he had been standing there. Apparently, he'd 
gone, on to attend to more urgent
things. She would have to admit, he was not what she expected 
at all. He was so fierce looking,
so obviously evil, and yet...there was something attractive 
about him. Something that appealed to
her in the darkest parts of her soul. And the disconcerting 
thing about it was that it was not only
in the darkness that he appealed to her, but in the light. 
There was a raw sexual energy about
him, something so basically animalistic that it sounded in 
the very depths of her humanity. But
there was something else there, lurking just underneath that 
heavy shadow, glinting silver like
the lining of a storm cloud.
     There was something there...something she couldn't put 
her finger on. Only Yejion knew,
and His messenger had warned her not to judge anyone. She 
could not judge this Darth Seth.
Sith lord he might be right now, but his destiny was 
elsewhere. 
     What part she played in it, however, was a complete 
mystery to her.
     He knew her, that much she recognized. Apparently, he 
had been waiting for her to show
up for a very long time. Why? She had no idea. 
     This pacing wasn't doing her any good. The fact was, she 
was tired. So she sat down on
the bunk again and pulled her legs up under her. Taking 
several deep breaths, she fell into a
meditation trance, and several minutes passed before she 
became aware of something. Or rather,
Someone.
     She opened her eyes, her mind still in the trance but 
her senses functioning as if she were
outside herself. Someone was at the door, wearing a bright 
white cape that seemed to twinkle
with silver embroidery. A hood covered the figure's head, but 
the figure threw it back to reveal a
mane of fire all around its face. Eyes that Vaiya remembered 
stared at her, and she knew that she
was about to be set free. 
     The angel had returned.
     It did not move, it merely stood at the door to the 
cell, and its hair seemed to leap out
from it like it was alive. The flames lashed out at the 
controls to the forcefield, and with a
pathetic sputter, the barrier died.
     Vaiya gracefully slid her feet out from under her, and 
fell into a bow before the angel. It
said to her, in her mind, *You must go, Vaiya. Your enemy 
seeks to strike at your mother and
your father yet again. Their faith is not as strong as yours, 
and this final blow will be their
undoing. Yejion does not abandon His own, for He says, "Send 
my servant  Vaiya to be their
rescuer, that they might know that I have put my blessing on 
her, and she will give them hope.
But take caution, young Jedi Knight, for temptation awaits 
you. Do not loose faith in Me, and I
will sustain you." So says Yejion.*
     "But I have no lightsaber," Vaiya whispered, the fear 
starting to slide into her heart. 
     *Trust in Yejion, and your powers will be strong.* Then 
the angel vanished, leaving
Vaiya alone.
     She stepped out from her quarters, banishing her fear. 
She had work to do.

     The sith lords had gathered in a circle around Mara, who 
was bound hand and foot and
left in the middle of the chamber, over some giant symbol 
that she didn't understand. It almost
looked like a face, but it had no features, only the red and 
black streaks that seemed to follow
the same pattern as the tattooes on the sith lords' faces. 
Luke was not too far away, restrained by
two very large and dangerous-looking droids. They had dosed 
him hard with seditives, and he
was having a hard time fighting them. It took all his 
concentration to purify himself. There
would be nothing left of him to help her; at least, not in 
time.
     She glanced upward and saw Cal enter the room, looking 
extraordinarily pleased. He
approached her, lightly falling to his knees, bending over 
her with his arrogant expression close
her to face. 
     "You don't ever give up, do you?" Mara said, her voice 
extraordinarily calm. 
     "Never. Why should I? You should consider yourself 
flattered that I'm willing to go
through all this trouble for you."
     "I hardly think I'm worth it, Cal," she said, genuinely 
frustrated. "I mean, why me? What
makes me so special? There have to be a hundred thousand 
women in this galaxy who would
gladly be your...your consort, your bride, your whatever. 
What do you want to do to me now?
Cast some kind of spell on me? Your attack on my memory 
didn't work, your chemicals didn't
work, and this won't work, either. Why don't you just walk 
way while you still have your dignity
and your life?"
     He simply smiled at her patiently. "Trial and error, my 
dear Mara Jade," he whispered. "I
don't believe in giving up until I've exhausted every 
possible avenue."
     She shook her head. "But for Yejion's sake, Cal! You 
look like you're barely into your
twenties, and I know I'm not a spring Twi'lek anymore. What 
possible good could I be to you?"
     His smile narrowed. "You never did know how I kept my 
youthful glow, did you? How I
was able to trick you all into believing that I was my own 
son, Jaid?" He sighed and shook his
head. "Mara, Mara, my dear Mara. After all this time, your 
anger still defeats you. I tried to tell
you to give in, and let it make you powerful, but you 
wouldn't listen. Don't you see that all of this
has come from the dark side? My youth, my power, even my 
starship were produced by these
men you see before you, these sith lords. Palpatine knew the 
benefits of bargaining with powers
greater and darker than he. I have learned it as well. And in 
time, you will serve me as you
served him. You will learn what I have to offer you, and one 
day you will thank me."
     Mara cast her eyes around the circle. The sith lords, 
five of them, began to chant. She
shuddered to the very core of her soul.
     "What are they doing?" she asked, her voice small.
     "Preparing to make you immortal," he replied, and stood 
up, smiling down at her in a
twistedly affectionate way. "It will only hurt like hell for 
a little while. When it's over, you will
be thanking me. I guess you could even call it....tough 
love."
     Then he backed away as the chanting grew louder. Mara 
struggled against her bonds,
struggled against the fear that rose in her chest. She could 
not give in, she had to be calm.
     Her eyes searched for Luke's and saw that he was 
fighting off the seditives with success.
But he was not strong enough to get free of the guard droids. 
     It was then that the sith lords began to glow.
     The chanting was so loud and horrific to hear that Mara 
shut her eyes and her ears in an
attempt to mentally block it out, but she was panicing so 
badly that her attempt failed.
Something terrible was rising from these men, some dark magic 
that she had never encountered
before, not even in Palpatine. It was not the Force that was 
gathering around her, but some evil
power that sought to gain entrance into her body, into her 
soul. 
     Vaguely, she heard Luke call her name. She reached for 
him, desperate, and sent him her
love. Perhaps this was the end. She was so weary from her 
battles with Saphringer. Maybe this
time Cal was right...he was going to win.
     There was a roaring sound, and Mara felt as if she were 
being siezed by a thousand hands
all over her body. The roaring grew louder, rumbling in her 
chest, and something shot through
her, sending an enormous amount of pain into her chest. She 
screamed with the intensity of it,
her mouth opening so wide that it seemed that it was simply 
not big enough to let the scream out
fast enough. 
     That was when she heard the hum of a lightsaber blade.
     No, not one, but seven of them. Five belonged to the 
sith lords, their red blades shining as
they were lifted from their belts. The roaring decreased 
slightly, and Mara found herself able to
lift her head and look toward the main door to the chamber.
     With her hand extended into the air, her fingers 
stretching forth, her mind completely
focused on the blades and her face strained with exertion, 
stood Vaiya. Then something came to
her, something familiar that Mara had seen before when the 
sith lords had attacked them. Her
double-ended lightsaber, bright purple in the errie light. 
She ignited it, adding an eighth saber to
the attack, and Mara looked around to see both her and Luke's 
lightsabers turning on the guard
droids. They thrust themselves into their metal chests, and 
Luke broke free, rushing forward to
Mara. But the dark magic was still around her, and had 
already begun its work, and as he
reached her it enveloped him as well. All they could do was 
cling to each other as they waited
for it to pass.

     The five blades of the sith lords hovered in the air 
like a bright crown, and Luke and
Mara's sabers joined them, floating over the Skywalkers like 
sentinels. Vaiya raised her saber
over her head. The timing became everything, because the sith 
lords had been distracted by the
efforts of performing their ritual. She had to strike now, or 
else this would only end in disaster.
Slowly, she turned the blades outward, ready to strike at 
their owners. She felt their masters
begin to attempt wresting control of the blades from her, but 
she held fast, fueled by a power
even higher than the Force. 
     Then, without warning, she saw him.
     Larin.
     He stood at the other end of the circle, glaring at her 
in fury. What had happened to him?
This was not the man she knew! She heard herself call out his 
name, and her muscles shuddered
as she entirely lost her focus in the confusion. That moment 
of distraction was all that they
needed.
     With a cry, Vaiya felt the blades leave her grip and 
return to their owners' hands. She still
had her own saber, and she clenched it tightly, swinging it 
forward in a last effort to maintain her
defense. They turned on her, all five of them. Blue, green, 
orange, yellow and grey faces all
turned on her, fixed in fury at her disruption of their 
sacred ritual. 
     Larin was suddenly beside her, bearing a lightsaber that 
also had a red blade, and he
brought it down on top of hers with surprising force. She 
barely managed to maintain her grip,
and quickly attempted to refocus herself so that she could 
strike back.
     But it was over. Another blow, and the saber slipped 
from her fingers, crashing to the
ground. Larin raised his own saber over his head as if to 
bring it through her body, but there was
a crackle followed by the stench of ozone as Force lightning 
suddenly bombarded both her and
Larin, sending them slamming to the nearby wall.
     She hit the floor hard, unaware of Larin's presence 
through the blinding pain. She could
not remember ever being hit by Force lightning before. It was 
not a pleasant experience, and one
she knew she would not easily forget. As she tried to rise, 
they hit her again, and this time she
felt her muscles curl into a fetal position as she screamed 
for mercy.
     Then it was over.
     The world had gone hazy, but she could feel him. Seth 
was beside her, lifting her up,
holding her close to him as he guided her back into the lift. 
He had stopped them, had taken pity
on her and rescued her. She allowed herself to be supported, 
leaning hard into him, using him as
a crutch, a job he seemed willing to accept. And then, quite 
clearly, she heard her name through
the Force.
     *Vaiya!*
     She opened her eyes and forced back the haze. Larin was 
getting to his feet, his face
dazed but his eyes normal. The gleeming maddness seemed to 
have faded under the attack. He
was the man she knew, but only briefly.
     He jumped up even as the dark lords approached him, one 
of them bearing what looked
like a syringe. He ran to the lift as it began to lower, his 
hands slamming against the controls as
he fought to stall it. They were on him, grabbing his arms 
and pulling him back. But his voice
carried, and over and over he screamed her name.
     "Vaiya!"
     She felt Seth's grip on her shoulder tighten as he 
pulled her closer. She managed to lift
her head up just a bit to see his face, and noticed that he 
was gazing upward, at Larin.
     On his face was a small, gloating, victorious smile.

14--Destiny

     She dreamed as she slept, her body mending the wounds 
caused by the Force lightning.
She could not even gain enough focus to go into a trance, and 
it bothered her. So she resorted to
sleep, the one thing she could do, and rather well, as she 
was so exhausted she could not even
raise her head.
     He stayed close to her the next several hours, and 
during her moments of consciousness
she heard bits and pieces of conversation, mostly between 
Seth and that other sith lord, Darth
Knar. The one with the blue face, if she remembered 
correctly. 
     During an hour when she was able to focus, she reached 
out with the Force to feel for her
parents. They were alive and well, even if they were back in 
their cells. She had managed to
disrupt the ritual so badly that it could not have been 
continued, so for the time being her parents
were safe. The raging question was how Vaiya had gotten out 
of her cell, and would she do it
again?
     Like she'd ever tell them.
     Still, she dreamed. They were lost dreams, mostly about 
Seth. It seemed as if he were in
her mind with her, communicating to her as she slept. At 
times he seemed so human, the way he
talked to her, and at others he was ruthless as he fought to 
keep her a prisoner. He sent her
images, shared the many dreams he had had of her over the 
years. She felt herself become
aroused by the sexual energy of those dreams, unable to 
control her mind in the realm of the
subconscious.
     Seth, for his part, waited patiently, staying close by, 
perched on a nearby stool and
waiting for her to awaken. She had taken some nasty burns 
from his fellow cult members, and
while she had deserved them, he found himself feeling bad for 
her in her pain.
     It could almost have been called compassion. Which was 
impossible. He had no sense of
compassion for anyone. 
     Not even her.
     He stood up and approached her, hesitantly at first and 
then eagerly as a new purpose
came to him. Her eyes were closed, and she was lost in the 
world of dreams, her eyes moving
rapidly under her lids. He leaned over her, his breath 
flowing down over her face. He opened his
mouth and let his lips gently carress her cheek.
     In her dream, Vaiya suddenly smelled something sweet, 
like the jungles of Yavin IV after
a heavy storm, or some rich perfume from Coruscant. It was 
intoxicating in nature, like heavy
red wine, and she felt the muscles of her body begin to 
tingle with the thrill of it. 
     As the smell enveloped her, she could see Seth standing 
over her, even though her eyes
remained closed and she stayed locked in the dream. His mouth 
moved from her cheek to her
lips, and there the smell became a rich taste as his tongue 
explored her mouth. Her fingers
touches his lips, feeling their shape, fascinated by their 
strength as they massaged her own. The
kisses lasted a long time, each one tasting the other, 
feeling the other, reveling in the closeness
in spite of the danger involved. Vaiya felt her body 
responding, eager to be brought into this
twisted dance, but still he kissed her, driving her closer to 
the agony of sexual lust. His mouth
was a glorious place, skilled and firm, yet soft and yeilding 
against hers. Truly, he seemed to be
enjoying what he was doing to her more than she was enjoying 
having it done. Then, hungrily,
he moved to her neck, his fingers slowly pushing away the 
button-down tunic the Durranians had
given her to wear to the ceremony. His mouth moved farther 
still, and she shuddered in her core,
aroused by his boldness, terrified by her own eager 
responses.
     She looked down. His horns gleamed up at her, short and 
sharp. She reached out and
touched his head like any wanton lover, but as she reached, 
she gained one single moment of
sanity and drove her palm along one of the horns, the pain 
and the blood bringing her out of the
dream with startling quickness. She jumped up from the table, 
urged on by a surge of adreneline,
and Seth pulled back, his hand going to the bloodstained horn 
in confusion. Anger rose on his
face as she backed away from him, her bloodied hand, palm 
ripped open from finger to heel,
held out to him to keep him at bay.  
     "Do you really think that will stop me?" he asked, his 
voice low.
     "It may not stop you, but it will slow you down," she 
replied, her voice also calm. 
     He strode closer to her, letting his physical presence 
intimidate her. He called upon his
arrogance and pride to aid him, and he felt as if he grew as 
his shadow fell over her face. "Do
you know what I am? Do you really believe that you can resist 
me forever? Sure you know that
your place is here. This is where you have been called. At 
the very least, Vaiya, you should be
aware that even if you do continue to resist, it will only 
lead to your death. Is it really worth it?
Am I so terrible a price to pay for your life?"
     "My life is not my own, nor is my destiny," she said, 
her voice taking on a nearly
supernatural quality. "I am not free to fall into darkness 
with you, Seth. There is no temptation
greater than the grace given to us to resist it. I will not 
submit, even if it means my life."
     He sneered at her. "Such brave words for a martyr. But 
what is your cause? That phony
God of yours? Perhaps you've picked the wrong one. Sith knows 
there are many of them to pick
from."
     Vaiya shook her head, her hand lowering. She did not 
retreat from him any farther, but
stood her ground--or rather, sat it, because she was still 
weak from her burns and she had to find
a nearby stool and sit down before she fell down. "He is the 
right one. No other god claims what
He does."
     "Oh, really, and what is that?" he sneered.
     "To be the only way, the only truth, the only God. No 
other god claims that title. Who
else other than the true God would dare make such a claim?" 
She looked at him, as if seeing
right through him. "You believe in Yejion, Seth. You know He 
is real."
     Seth sneered. "How insightful. But just because you 
believe something exists doesn't
mean that you worship it. Yejion abandoned me a long time 
ago. Now my own cult seeks to
abandon me, if I fail again. That is why you must understand, 
Vaiya. Too much is riding on this
union. I will not allow you to resist me much longer."
     She smiled at him. It was a gentle, almost friendly 
smile, as if she hadn't seen him in a
long, long time and wanted to make him welcome. "Seth," she 
said, her voice nearly tender, "if
you are so convinced that so much rides on me, why don't you 
try things my way?"
     He frowned. "What do you mean?"
     "You said Yejion had abandoned you. Are you so sure? I 
am here now, and I am here as
His servant. Perhaps He sent me to bring you back to Him."
     Seth's sneer widened, and he showed his teeth in 
contempt. They gleamed like fangs. "I
doubt that very much. Besides, where was your God when you 
fell before? If He meant for you
to be anywhere else but here, He could have saved you. But He 
abandoned you as well, allowing
my brothers to strike you down."
     Her face clouded at that, and she looked away, 
struggling for an answer. He pounced
again, unwilling to let her regain her defense.
     "All of your learning, just to be let go at the first 
sign of trouble. It's almost amusing, but
I find it to be a sick joke." Then with lightning speed, his 
tone turned soft, cajoling. "I would
never do that, Vaiya. I would never leave you in time of 
trouble. I would be your servant--"
     "Only if I give you what you want," she replied, her 
eyes coming back to him with new
strength. "You are no better than them. They sought to 
destroy me, and then blame it all on you.
They seek to bring you down, Seth, and replace you with 
another. It's been staring you in the face
for decades, and yet you stay! Why do you stay? You are not 
wanted in this place any longer! But
if you come with me--"
     "Be quiet!" he roared. Vaiya's jaw snapped shut, and in 
the rumbling calm that followed
she maintained her composure. 
     "You said I was your destiny, Seth," she said in a very 
low voice. "Perhaps I am, but not
in the way you think. You know you have been tricked, used, 
wronged. You know that things lie
in your heart that you desire to use again. Your body tells 
you that I am here to serve your lust,
but your heart knows better. You know the truth, Seth. And 
you will see it before this is over,
that I swear."
     He glared at her for a long moment, and then turned and 
left.

     This was impossible.
     Mara stared down at her hands. She had never noticed 
that they'd been hardened and
wrinkled with age until she saw the hands she had had maybe 
thirty years ago. 
     Luke was experiencing the same thing, and she didn't 
blame him. After that Darth Seth
had swept Vaiya way, and after the sith lords had restored 
whatever drug they had put Larin on
to his system, they had turned to the Skywalkers. But in 
their short reprieve from attack, they had
had a chance to see the results of the ritual.
     They were young again.
     Not children, not teenagers. Perhaps if the ritual had 
been completed Mara and Luke
would have been as young-looking at Cal had when he'd come to 
the Jedi Academy. But it had
not been completed, and their youth of thirty years had been 
restored to them. 
     Mara gazed at her reflection in awe. Luke's eyes had 
widened as he gazed at her, amazed.
She was sure her look mirrored his own as the face she had 
seen all those years ago in Jabba's
Palace, the face of a young Jedi Knight not quite hefting the 
mantle of knighthood rightly, stared
back at her. She had never thought of Luke as old until she 
saw him again as the youth she had
fallen in love with.
     It felt as if they had gone back in time, but the moment 
ended too soon, and they were
separated, each placed in their old cells. Maybe by now Cal 
would get the point. Of course, if he
did, that meant sure execution for both of them.
     Mara found that she truly was not worried. Maybe it was 
the Force keeping her calm,
gently nudging her toward her destiny, which was only right, 
as well as completely inevitable. Or
maybe it was this newfound religion that Vaiya and Luke had 
shown to her, a solid, deepening
faith in grace and providence.
     Or maybe it was the fact that she detected the familiar 
presence of two young Jedi
Knights, crawling through the ventilation shafts above them. 
Mara smiled to herself. All the time
she had spent training her Jedi skills, and all she had 
really needed was to brush up on her cat-
burgalar tricks. 
     One was on top of her. The other had gone after Luke. 
Mara pressed her mind upward,
gently, not wanting to break Derrin's concentration but not 
wanting him to give himself away,
either. He had learned well how to shield his mind from 
others, but at this close a range, and
with Mara's new Jedi senses, she could hardly miss that there 
was someone there, even if his
identity didn't become clear until a direct probe. Gingerly, 
he lifted his lightsaber and Mara saw
the tip of the blue blade gleaming through the metal. She 
gingerly stepped out of the way as the
metal liquified in the heat and Derrin cut a nice sized 
escape hole. Mara reached up with the
Force to pull the torn scrap away, and allowed Derrin to 
reach down and grasp her hand. Careful
not to touch the still burning edges of the hole, Mara lifted 
herself with the Force, and found
herself face to face with the young Jedi. He was a little 
worse for wear, and he could use a bath,
but he was calm and in control of himself. Mara gave him a 
small smile, ample reward for his
bravery. She had always thought that a Jedi must be given 
some sort of heavy test before taking
the mantle of Knighthood, but Derrin seemed to be one of 
those who gained it simply by being
consistent.
     Derrin took one look at Mara and nearly dropped her. 
*What happened?* he sent.
     *Long story,* she grinned, her green eyes dancing with 
amusement as she lifted the metal
panel back into place and let the liquid metal seal itself 
shut again. *Nice job, by the way.*
     Derrin just nodded, staring at her, dumbfounded. Mara 
had long since known that he had
a bit of a crush on her, but seeing how she had looked at his 
age was a little too much for his
hormones, and it took him a few seconds to regain his 
composure. Down a bit, Drianna was
having the same reaction to Luke, although hers was hardly 
hormone laden. 
     Luke was grinning with sheer amusement. *What kept you?* 
he asked. 
     "You're lucky we're here this soon," Drianna whispered. 
"If the Order of Yejion, or
however you call them, hadn't demanded that we be given a 
transport, we might not have gotten
here at all."
     Mara started down the shaft. "Well, we'll all get stuck 
here permanently if we don't move
soon. The first thing we have to do it find Vaiya. Have you 
two spotted her yet?"
     "No, but we've tried to find her," Derrin whispered. 
"Wherever they've got her, it isn't in
the detention cells. I suspect," he added, looking back over 
his shoulder, "that they're holding her
somewhere higher in the station."
     "Station," Luke whispered, turning to him. "Is that 
where we are? A space station?"
     "Something like it," Drianna explained. "It's privately 
owned, nothing public. And it's
rather a unique design--almost like a giant bell. The 
underside has a huge opening with all these
catwalks stretched across it. I just get the feeling it 
wasn't designed for nice purposes. Like the
owner--Cal--likes to toss people into space. The lower 
levels, about the first three decks, are all
ship ports. But it still doesn't look very friendly."
     Mara nodded, considering. "It will only be a matter of 
time before they know that we're
missing," she said. "I suggested we try a head-on attack. 
They won't be expecting it. Maybe we
can knock down their internal communications in Cal's 
throneroom or whatever while he's
scurrying around in the lower levels, trying to find us, 
thinking we're going to escape. We'll also
knock out whatever tractor beams or forcefields they have 
that are keeping all their ships in."
     Luke murmured in agreement. "Meanwhile, you two will 
find Vaiya and get her loose.
Once you have, head on down to a ship and get out of here."
     "But what about you?" Derrin rasped.
     "Don't worry about us," Mara assured him. "We can take 
care of ourselves."
     Drianna looked at the two Jedi Masters, and then at 
Derrin. "I guess we'd better split up
soon," she said. "They can't find us all together."
     "Right, you head on down that shaft. Mara and I will go 
this way. And get out of these
tunnels as soon as you can. It won't take them long before 
they figure out we used them as an
escape route and lock them down."
     As the two Jedi Masters parted ways from their younger 
cohorts, Luke turned to Mara.
"You know, it kind of reminds me of the first Deathstar," he 
said.
     "How?" she asked.
     "Ben went to knock out the tractor beam so that we could 
escape. He didn't know it, but
in the meanwhile Han and I went to rescue Leia." He paused. 
"This just feels like the same
thing."
     Mara looked at him, hard. "That was when Ben was killed, 
wasn't it?" she asked softly.
     Luke nodded. "But he had his reasons for dying. He chose 
it, even."
     She considered his words. "And what about us? Do you 
think we are choosing death by
doing this?"
     Luke grinned at her. "You know, Mara, the younger you 
get, the more serious you get. I
think I liked you better a little wrinkled."
     She playfully poked him in the ribs. "Watch it, 
Skywalker, or you're going to find
yourself floating home."
     "Whatever, Han."
     "Shut up." Then she grew serious again. "Do you think 
we're going to die?" And she
suddenly looked fightened. In spite of their warnings to 
Derrin and Drianna to get out of the
ventilation system as soon as possible, he stopped and 
reached for Mara, holding her close.
     "Are you afraid of dying?" he whispered.
     "No," she replied, and then more lightheartedly, "I 
mean, who wants to live forever? It's
just..."
     "What?"
     "I just don't want you to die before me."
     Luke pulled her closer. This newfound youth that they 
had been given was nothing
compared to what they already shared. But it felt good to 
hold her with a bit more strength. "I
don't want you to die first, either," he said, his voice very 
serious.
     "Then let's make it a pact," she said, pulling back a 
bit.
     "What pact?"
     "No matter what, we go together."
     Luke frowned at her. "There is no way that we can be 
sure we'll be able to keep that pact,
Mara." Then, he said, "What is it?" 
     She frowned, her eyes sliding away from him. "Just a 
feeling," she said. Something
distant, very distant, but frightening nonetheless. She shook 
her head. "I don't know. Ask me
again sometime. But for today, we will keep this pact. If you 
go, I go."
     He nodded. "Then I guess neither one of us had better 
go, then." He grinned, his old
farmboy grin, and he felt her heart lighten. "Come on, let's 
take our own advice before we wind
up making royal Jedi idiots of ourselves."
     "I thought Jedi Masters were immune to making royal 
idiots out of themselves," she said,
a touch of her old sarcastic nature flaring up.
     "You of all people know that isn't true. I mean, look at 
me! I married you, didn't I?---
OW!"

     Vaiya knelt in the middle of her room, her mind in a 
heavy meditation. She had failed
before, failed badly, and all because she let her emotions 
get in the way.
     The farther she walked down this path, the more she saw 
how the Jedi were not so wrong
in what they had believed about the Force. Emotions were 
wonderful, beautiful things, and gave
sentient beings them most pleasure in their short lifespans. 
But they were also capable of the
worst treachery. If she had simply trusted like she knew she 
should have, and not have let Larin's
mere presence distract her, they would all be out of this 
mess by now.
     Then there was Seth. She could not figure him out. He 
seemed so out of place here, so
unlikely to have been chosen as the leader of this manic 
little cult that so obviously didn't like
him. How could he have survived for so long with this 
emptiness, this doubt? How could
someone so entrenched in the dark side maintain such heroic 
virtue, and keep his hands so free
from blood? Maybe that was why they hated him, because of the 
goodness that was still deep
inside him. It was rising, like some deep festering wound, 
ready to explode. They feared it, they
feared him, and yet they plotted against him, hoping to 
overthrow him. They wanted to use her
as an excuse, his final failure--all their waiting just for 
him to have picked the most unlikely
female Jedi in all of the galaxy. She resisted a slight surge 
of pride--while giving birth to a
destroyer was the last thing in the world Vaiya would 
willingly do, the thought of giving into
Seth was not so far beneath her. 
     That was the mystery. That was why he thought she was 
the one. 
     It amazed her, how well she knew him from just their 
brief encounters. As if she had
always known him on some level, maybe through the Force, or 
just from their minds touching.
Her parents had had a similiar experience when they had 
decided to marry---
     Vaiya jerked herself from the meditation and shuddered. 
That was truly *impossible.*
She had to go on to something else. This meditation wasn't 
working. She needed some good old
fashioned prayer.
     She needed another chance.
     "Oh great Yejion," she whispered, "I offer to you my 
freedom, my memory, my
understanding and my will. All that I have and all that I 
cherish, You have given to me. I
surrender them all to be guided by Your will. Your grace, 
Your love, and Your wisdom are
wealth enough for me. Grant me these, and I ask for nothing 
more."
     She repeated the prayer several times, each time 
bringing her closer to her focus. She
would be given another chance. She was weak, and she was 
flawed, but she was humble and she
could admit it. Only grace was going to get her out of this. 
Sure, she had all her Jedi skills and
her powers, but without Yejion to guide her, she was lost.
     Her mind went back to Seth, briefly, as she returned to 
her bunk, knowing that what she
needed most at the moment was some rest. She knew that he 
would not destroy her, and she
would not destroy him. Their paths were linked somehow, even 
if just for these few days.
Whatever happened, he was not her enemy, no matter how strong 
the fear became.
     She just hoped he would realize it, too.


15--Like Old Times

     "This is impossible," Drianna said, a touch of 
frustration entering her voice as her usually
calm and optimistic nature began to crumble. "The computers 
won't tell us anything. I've tried
everything, and nothing works!"
     "They've really got her well-hidden, then," Derrin 
murmured. They had followed their
Masters' advice and left the ventilation shaft, and were 
temporarily holed up in a deserted
corridor. Derrin was doing his best to surpress the curiosity 
of whoever might be passing by, and
it was a trying job because they were in a quiet sector and 
he had to keep a steady watch to
prevent himself from being surprised. He continuously had to 
scan, and had a bad feeling that it
wouldn't be much longer before one of the sith lords caught 
on to him. "She must be really
important to them."
     Drianna nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. 
"You know, when those sith lords
showed up, one of the Elders of the temple told me that they 
were from the Cult of the
Destroyer. I did a bit of checking on our way up here."
     Derrin grinned at her, affectionately. "That's my Dri," 
he sighed. "Always doing
research."
     "Damn skippy. Who else is going to take Tionne's job 
when she retires?" Drianna
returned his grin. "But seriously, I think that Vaiya is in 
some serious bantha dung. According to
what little I could pull up, these guys believe that their 
leader is supposed to sire some kind of
ultimate destroyer---"
     "Hence, the name, Cult of the Destroyer," Derrin 
offered.
     Drianna continued, non-plussed. "They've been around for 
about a hundred years or so.
When Palpatine first came into power, he had trained an 
apprentice who was from their cult,
Darth Maul. Maul was young and power-hungry, so he deserted 
the cult to serve Palpatine, and
they had to put someone in his place. This guy isn't their 
natural leader--he got it by default. But
he's screwed up big time. The cult had been rather known for 
killing female Jedi, as their
prophesy demanded. They were told to find a Jedi woman to 
mother their destroyer, and if the
girl they picked wasn't willing, she had to be killed, 
because if they forced her, her kid would
destroy the cult, and if they didn't kill her, she would 
destroy the cult. But they haven't killed
anybody since Maul...they were thought to be gone and buried 
until recently. Now, this leader
has taken Vaiya, and he hasn't taken anyone since he started 
his reign. He must really think she's
the one."
     "So what you're saying," Derrin said, dead serious, "is 
that Vaiya is in some serious
bantha dung."
     "And we had better get to her fast."
     He sighed, considering. It wouldn't be much longer 
anyway before they were discovered
if they continued at their current plan, and they were having 
no success at locating her. The only
way was a full-out probe, and that would be a dead giveaway. 
Unless Luke and Mara caught it
too, and were smart enough to figure it out, and by some 
chance were able to distract the sith
lords---
     "Then we don't have a choice," Derrin sighed. He reached 
out and took Drianna's hands.
"We're going to have to run pretty fast," he said.
     She nodded. He was right. "I'm ready when you are."
     He shut his eyes, and their minds touched. Then, with a 
huge burst, they reached out to
all the station.

     Luke felt it first, but Mara was right beside him. They 
were in between the walls of the
main power generator, and Mara was refreshing her old skills 
at shorting out systems on Cal's
beautiful switchboard. She was rather enjoying it, too, 
feeling quite safe and confident behind
her barriers, knowing that Cal wasn't too far away and that 
he was completely frustrated at her
disappearance as well as the havoc she was wreaking upon his 
home. But the second that Derrin
and Drianna, in a last ditch effort to find Vaiya, sent out 
their mental probe, she looked at Luke,
and knew.
     There was a time for everything. This was their time to 
fight.
     Quickly, they scrambled out of their safe little hiding 
place and found themselves on one
of the giant catwalks overlooking the oblivion of space 
below. Mara had never really looked
*down* on space--it was a rather uncomfortable experience.  
     Luke was beside her in a heartbeat, and they ran as fast 
as they could toward the main
room, which bulged out over the core of the station like some 
kind of giant pod, fully equipped
with a transparisteel window to watch the victims fall to 
their death. Surely Cal would be there,
and possibly that sith lord who was leading this little band. 
If they could just distract them long
enough to get Vaiya out, and then escape themselves, they 
might have a chance.
     *In a Sarlacc's eye,* Mara thought, her old cynicism 
rising up on her. Luke sent her a
reassuring touch, and she drew from his confidence. He was 
used to throwing himself into
suicidal missions, she remembered, and he was quite good at 
coming out of them alive.
     Of course, it was mainly because she was always there to 
rescue his stupid Jedi butt from
the melting pit. And this time it was different because she 
wasn't at a safe distance away where
she could reach in with her mighty Hand and pluck him from 
certain death--she was right there
beside him, her neck stretched as far out as his.
     Funny...right now, she couldn't think of a better place 
to be.
     They felt them before they saw them. "You take the sith 
lord and the boy," she growled.
"I want Saphringer."
     "Be careful," Luke warned. "Don't give in to your 
anger."
     "I won't give in," she assured him, and then gave him a 
wicked grin. "But I may toy with
it a bit."

     Vaiya lifted her head from her arm, which she had been 
using as a pillow. She felt them,
and was suddenly overjoyed. They weren't too far away! 
*HERE!* she sent out frantically,
jumping up and running to the forcefield that held her back. 
*I'm HERE! Right above you!*
     Within ten minutes, she saw a lightsaber stab its way up 
through the metal floor, and tear
through the material like it was paper. Drianna lept up 
first, her feet clearing the steaming metal
edge by a good foot, and Derrin followed her. In one swift 
stroke, Drianna brought her blade up
and slashed it through the controls, and the barrier that had 
kept Vaiya in vanished.
     "Thank Yejion!" Vaiya cried, and hugged her. She even 
turned and hugged Derrin, who
was a bit surprised at the enthusiastic greeting, but 
returned it, laughing. He was actually pleased
to see her, and it shone on his face. But as soon as she 
pulled away, the guards came, tearing at
them down the hallway. So Cal had his own private army, eh? 
she thought. Well, let them come.
She guestured for them to follow her.
     "Where are we going?" Drianna asked as she bounced 
blaster bolts off her lightsaber.
     "Up," Vaiya said as they rounded a corner. She turned a 
bit, letting Drianna catch up with
her, then closed her eyes, and with a guesture of her hand, 
she *pushed.*
     To the astonishment of her companions, the first line of 
guards fell back, completely
knocked off their feet. They tumbled into the second row, and 
soon the entire squad fell back
like a row of dominoes. 
     The effort left Vaiya's brow covered with sweat. "Never 
had to do it before," she said as
she turned and caught the looks from Derrin and Drianna. 
"Seemed like a good idea, though."
They dashed into a sideroom and jammed the door shut behind 
them. "Either one of you willing
to loan me a lightsaber?"
     Derrin detatched something from his belt. It was golden 
in color, and of a rather odd
shape, but familiar nonetheless. "Valeris asked us to give 
this to you when we saw you," he said,
his voice slightly nervous. He handed it to her. "He said it 
used to be his, and that you'd know
what to do with it."
     Vaiya took the object from him. It gleamed in her hand, 
and while the design was slightly
alien, she knew how it worked. She flicked it on, and a 
brilliant, pure white lightsaber blade
extended into existence. "Wow," she whispered. "I guess it 
will have to do."

     This was impossible.
     Seth's blade clashed with the one who called himself 
Luke Skywalker, who fought like he
was two men. In one second, he had managed to push Larin back 
a few feet, and in the next he
was locking blades with Seth again.
     It was a stalemate, and it shouldn't have been. 
Skywalker was only *one man* with *one
blade.* Of course, Larin wasn't that skilled, and he was 
under the influence of that drug
Saphringer insisted on keeping him pumped full of. He 
stumbled several times, and Skywalker
was easily able to protect himself from him, even protect 
Larin from himself. 
     Seth resisted the urge to shove Larin out of the way, 
but he couldn't. Skywalker kept
putting himself between them, letting Larin get in his way, 
sensing the weakness there. Seth
didn't dare kill Larin--just as Saphringer didn't dare kill 
Vaiya, even though Seth knew he wanted
to, desperately. 
     He also resisted the urge to pull Vaiya's blade from his 
belt and use its double-ended
saber to give himself the advantage. Not really *resisted* 
the urge, actually. More like, couldn't
bing himself to do it. Even as he watched Cal with his own 
new creation, his own double-ended
lightsaber that he had made from his old, inferior one, its 
bright orange blades clashing hard with
the red-headed woman's single blue-green one. She was very 
skilled, that one. Seth could see
from where Vaiya had gotten her strength of will.
     And her calm obviously came from her father. Skywalker's 
face was completely
dispassionate, as if his only purpose were to keep them from 
getting in the way of the other fight
taking place. But it was going badly for him. He was getting 
tired. As was Larin...in fact, Larin
was getting a little more than tired, and Skywalker could 
sense it as well. He stumbled, as if
being gnawed from within by some terrible pain, and Seth 
pounced upon the opportunity to send
him out of the fight. Larin crashed into the nearby control 
panel and stayed there, his entire body
beginning to contort as he struggled with whatever was going 
on side of him.
     Skywalker was looking at Larin in deep concern, but Seth 
took the chance to recenter his
focus. He knew that the adreneline that Larin had produced 
from the fight was driving the drug
out of the system. Cal felt it, too, and in the few seconds 
he turned his attention from the red-
head to Larin, she was able to gain the upper hand.
     Seth, for his part, gained the upper hand over 
Skywalker, and in a few hard strokes he
had managed to pin the man onto one of his knees, their 
blades locked but Seth's pressing hard
into his, forcing him down.
     Cal saw it, too. "KILL HIM!" he growled, and the woman--
Mara--stole a glance at her
husband. 
     "NO!" she screamed.
     It was almost amusing, Seth thought as he mulled the 
scene over. Mara had gotten her
blade over Cal's, and Seth had gotten his blade over 
Skywalker's. It was a complete standoff. But
he had a feeling that the stakes were not going to remain 
even for long.
     "Don't!" Mara cried, her eyes seeking out Seth's, but 
her focus remained--incredibly, it
remained. She still had Cal pinned down hard, her blade close 
to his neck. "Let him live, and
we'll surrender."
     Cal just grinned at her, disbelieving but enjoying the 
sight of her squirming. "Really?" he
mocked. "And exactly how many seconds after Tatooinee freezes 
over will this happen?"
     "You heard me!" she cried.
     "Mara, don't!" Skywalker rasped.
     Seth felt himself begin to grin. Maybe this would show 
Vaiya who she was dealing with,
he thought, and he even stretched out his mind to her, to 
show her what was happening.
     It was then that he realized that she was not where she 
was supposed to be. His smile
started to fall, and Skywalker's eyes met his, matching him 
in defiance.
     "I mean it," Mara said, her voice steady as a rock. "Let 
him live, and we'll surrender."
     "Surrender first," Cal demanded, "and I'll let him 
live."
     A long moment passed, and Mara's muscles shuddered. "If 
you kill him, Cal, I swear that
I will make you destroy me, too."
     "I doubt that very much, Mara my love," he cooed. "But 
why don't we find out?"
     "Very well," Mara said, her voice as cold as stone. She 
pulled away and deactivated her
lightsaber, setting it down at her feet. 
     Cal sneered at her. "Kill him, Darth Seth," he said.
     In reply, Seth deactivated his own lightsaber.
     "I said kill him!" Cal raged, glaring at the sith lord.
     "You are a fool, Saphringer," Seth declared as Skywalker 
deactivated his own lightsaber
and set it aside in surrender. "Don't you realize they 
attacked us for only one reason? So that
Vaiya could escape."
     "Then kill them for it!" Cal said, his voice low but 
deadly. "You are the leader of the Cult
of the Destroyer, and you cannot kill your enemy? You are 
weak, Seth! If you do not take care,
you will soon loose your place."
     Seth paused and glared at him. "Is that a threat?" he 
asked, his voice even lower than
Cal's.
     "Kill him and show me how strong you are, Seth, and I 
will show you no disrespect
again."
     "There is no reason," Seth said, feeling 
uncharacterisically stubborn. "Not when I should
be elsewhere." He turned away, glancing at Larin. "And you as 
well have better things to do. If
you do not wish to loose your grasp on this one, you had 
better see to him quickly."
     Cal, as if he had forgotten about Larin, jumped, and 
then activated some controls on his
sleeve. Within a few minutes, some guards had entered, and 
Luke and Mara were siezed. "Take
them to my ship," Cal ordered. "And make ready to head for 
the planet below. Either one or both
of you will die today, Mara dear, if you make me loose my 
temper again."
     Mara, for her part, simply stared at him as they dragged 
her and Luke away. Cal turned
his attention to Larin, but they were out of the room before 
they could see anything else.

     "I have a bad feeling about this," Drianna whispered. 
     "This is going to be rough," Vaiya said, her voice close 
in the cramped space they had
jammed themselves into. "The catwalks are beside us, and 
we're going to have to go out onto
them. I hope no one here is afraid of heights."
     Drianna took a few short breaths. "Not that I remember," 
she said.
     "What is it that you want us to do?" Derrin asked, 
confused.
     "Attend to Larin," Vaiya said, her voice distant, filled 
with pain. "Saphringer is trying to
pump him full of drugs again. His adreneline keeps trying to 
push it out but Cal won't let it.
You're going to have to fight him, but don't hurt him. Let 
him wear himself out, and then capture
him as quickly as you can."
     "And then what?" Drianna asked, her voice slightly small 
in the closed space. "Sit on him
until we find a way out? What if more guards come? What if 
Saphringer comes?"
     "Saphringer isn't going to come. He's heading down to 
the planet. He's going to try and
find a way to kill my parents." Her voice was so 
dispassionate that there was a moment of
silence before they knew exactly what it was that she had 
said. 
     "Aren't you worried?" Derrin ventured.
     Vaiya looked at him. "First things first, Derrin. My 
parents can take care of themselves
until we get out of here."
     "But Cal wouldn't try and kill Mara," Drianna objected. 
"I mean, after all this---"
     "That's exactly why he would try and kill her," Vaiya 
pointed out. "This obsession he has
for her...it's going to end badly, I know it. He's going to 
try and kill her when he finally realizes
that she will not live without my father." Her face turned 
expressionless and distant for a few
seconds, and then her eyes returned to them. "Jedi hunch," 
she offered. "Or just plain knowing
the human condition. You pick."
     She slashed the saber into the floor, and within a few 
seconds they had dropped onto the
catwalks. The ventilation system was on full blast, and Vaiya 
felt a burst of what seemed almost
like cold wind rush past her, fluttering her clothes. The 
heavy velvet that the Durranian's had
given her--leggings, and a button-down tunic with slightly 
puffed sleeves that tightened at her
wrists and came to a point on the back of her hand--was 
barrier enough, but it wasn't exactly the
sturdiest fabric. Already the knees and elbows were starting 
to wear. Good thing they made high-
quality boots. They made no sound at all as she prowled down 
the catwalk, her senses stretched
to the fullest.
     He was near. And he would be coming for her soon. 
     Vaiya saw that there was a large room that swelled over 
the giant mouth of the space
station's core below. It had a large window, and she could 
see a shape moving.
     A very familiar shape. She headed for the room, her feet 
acting without the benefit of her
mind, and on pure hopeful instinct she entered the room.
     Only to be blindsided by a heavy red glowing blade.    
     She managed to block the blow in time with her borrowed 
white saber, but her emotions
got in the way as her senses focused on the attacker's face.
     "Larin," she whispered. He sneered down on her, as if 
not recognizing her at first, but
then with a lustful familiarity that frightened her. He 
casually activated the controls to the main
door, and it slid shut, locking Derrin and Drianna out, and 
Vaiya in.
     "I never liked them much, anyway," he said, and his 
glowing eyes focused on Vaiya. "But
you," he said, "I think I liked you very much. Too bad I have 
to kill you. What a waste."

16--Duel of the Fates

     The door slammed shut, locking Vaiya in and Drianna and 
Derrin out. They ran to the
controls, and Drianna immediately began attempting an 
override, but barely a few moments had
passed when the bad feeling she had had earlier suddenly 
magnified a hundred percent. 
     Derrin lightly brushed her arm as he turned, his face 
drawn and taunt. Drianna turned to
follow his gaze, and caught her breath.
     "Great Force," she whispered.
     A man stood before them, draped in a black cloak that 
covered his head. But his face,
marked brightly with a scarlet red and jet black, stared out 
at them plainly, his blazing yellow-
green eyes seeming to have a light of their own. 
     He seemed irritated as he gazed at the two Jedi, his 
mouth curving slightly, the upper lip
lifting just a touch to reveal that there was indeed flesh 
beneath the markings. Derrin shuddered,
and Drianna found that she wasn't breathing as well as she 
had thought. 
     "Stand aside," the man ordered. His voice was low, 
smooth, with just a touch of raspiness
to it. In the open air, it seemed more like deep toned wind, 
designed only to intimidate.
     It worked.
     Derrin took a step back, but then reconsidered. He 
pulled his lightsaber from his belt, the
pale blue beam seeming frightfully small against the huge 
black imposingness of their opponent.
The man's sneer seemed to metamorph into a grin, the black 
markings over his upper lip rising
just a touch more. With a guesture that was nearly invisible 
against all that back, the man pulled
his own saber from his belt. The opposing red beam buzzed 
angrily.
     Drianna turned and came to stand beside Derrin. They had 
never fought together before--
they had never really come up against any dark jedi, either, 
but that mattered little now. It
seemed perfectly natural for them to be there together, 
shoulder to shoulder, against this new
foe.
     "Very well," the man said, his voice a deep, rich, 
breathy growl. "A noble death it shall
be."

     Larin lunged at Vaiya, catching her by the collar of her 
shirt with his fingers. They dug
into her like talons as he pulled her up, his mouth inches 
away from hers. The fierceness of the
movement, as well as the surprise it caused in her, made her 
drop her saber.
     "What have they done to you?" she gasped as he pinned 
her against the wall. 
     "More importantly," he mocked, "what *aren't* you doing 
to me? Aren't you a Jedi or
something? Shouldn't you be fighting me with your saber?" He 
lifted his red blade and brought it
between them, the heat causing perspiration to rise 
immediately from both their cheeks. "Or
maybe you just want a quick death. I'm sorry, I can't do 
that. It would take all the fun out of it."
Then, in comtempt, he pulled her away from the wall and 
tossed her aside, letting her tumble
into some nearby furniture and land in an undignified heap. 
He regarded her carefully for a few
moments, giving Vaiya a moment to recollect herself.
     He had something on his arm, she immediately noticed. A 
huge metal band locked
around his upper biscep--some kind of tagging device? Or---
     A quick probe told her everything. Cal had done this to 
him. He had put him on some
kind of mind-altering drugs, using Larin's mild mental 
instability against him and turning him
into this rabid lapdog. Rage flickered in Vaiya, and Larin 
seemed to pull back, mildly surprised.
     "So the puppy does have teeth," he said, and laughed. 
"Then show them, why don't you?
Or do we have to play some more?" He reached forward and 
siezed her hair, and she scrambled
quickly to her get knees under her before he ripped a hunk of 
it out. She felt herself slam into
him, her head and chest making hard contact with his torso, 
causing his knees to buckle a bit, but
he kept his balance. Then he turned to the side and his hand 
went to some controls. Within a few
seconds a hologram appeared on a nearby console---a 
frightfully familiar hologram.
     "Valery," she whispered.
     Larin sighed. "Yes, and such a sad thing, too. You see, 
this little cult has been rather
incomplete for quite some time. When big bad Darth Seth took 
over, he left a nice little gap.
They were thinking of using this kid as his replacement."
     "No," Vaiya rasped.
     Larin shrugged. "Makes no difference to me," he said 
casually. "Shouldn't matter much to
you, either. You've got bigger problems than him."
     Vaiya looked up at him, her mind pushing at his hard, 
hoping to spark some recognition.
Whatever this drug was, it was messing with his memory big 
time. Larin had had enough trouble
recovering the first time--this next affliction might have no 
return. "He's your brother!" she cried,
still on her knees before him. Her mind shoved harder against 
his, trying to drive the fact home.
"Your brother, Valery!"
     Larin stared down at her, and for a brief second, she 
saw a flash of recognition in his
face. It was almost a smile, the expression that appeared, 
almost tender in nature.
     Then she heard a low beep come from that band on his 
arm, and instantly his face
darkened into a drug induced maddess. "Save your fear for 
yourself, Vaiya," he growled. "This
has only begun."
     She shut her eyes as she felt him pick her up and toss 
her again. This time she landed
hard against the console, not to far away from the controls 
for the door. She played dead for a
moment, going deep within herself.
     She had to get out of here. She couldn't fight Larin. 
She would be afraid of hurting him.
She would hold back and probably get herself killed. She had 
told Derrin and Drianna to do it,
knowing that they would not hesitate to do what needed to be 
done. But first, she had to do
something.
     She stretched out with the Force, finding her path 
smooth and clear, free from emotion,
even if only for a few minutes. Blocking out Larin's face, 
she reached for her lightsaber and it
came to her. With a quick, brief motion, she swung it past 
Larin's arm, grazing the metal band.
     Larin shrieked with pain as the band exploded on his arm 
with the heat, and Vaiya felt
her focus slip. She had to get out of here. She stood up and 
reached for the controls, unlocking
the door. It came open abruptly, and she found that she had 
been leaning against it too hard,
because she tripped and landed on her back, on the catwalks.
     For a second, she saw figures moving--three of them, 
locked in a dance. One black, the
other two in light brown robes. They paused when she 
appeared, and instantly Vaiya knew.
     So Seth had found them.
     She lifted her head up and caught a brief look at Larin 
clutching his arm in pain, pulling
away the bits of metal, making short, high-pitched shrieks of 
agony. Tears streaked down his
face, and as he looked at her again, Vaiya saw the rage.
     It terrified her.
     She pulled herself up to her feet and turned enough to 
see that the dance had paused. Seth
had stepped back, the two Jedi opposing him were looking to 
her in confusion, unable to
understand why everything had stopped. She pointed at Larin.
     "Trade me!" she cried.
     "Are you nuts?" Derrin cried back.
     Vaiya was on her feet now, and her eyes landed on Seth. 
They did not move from there,
even when she called to herself the double-ended lightsaber 
that she had made, which was
hanging from his belt. She pulled it upright and ignited one 
end. 
     "No. Now do as I say," she ordered calmly. Taking one 
last look at Seth, the two Jedi
obeyed, and Vaiya shut the door to the throneroom behind 
them.
     
     "You don't want to do this, Vaiya," Seth warned her, his 
face looking more human every
second in spite of his attempts to keep the flesh mask in 
place. "Don't make me destroy you."
     "You won't," Vaiya said, her calm returning to her like 
a cloak. Now this was a battle she
could fight. Her emotions fled her, leaving only a spiritual 
calm. As she gazed at Seth, readying
herself, she realized she did feel something. Compassion. Not 
like she felt for Larin, who still
had posession of her heart after all the time they had spent 
apart, but a spiritual compassion, one
that came from her soul. All the tainted lust that had 
plagued her before vanished. All that was
left was a desperate desire to save him. Save him from 
himself before it was too late.
     "Don't mock me, Vaiya!" he raged. "I am capable of that 
and much more!"
     "I know," she replied, still calm. "But you don't want 
to. And therefore, you won't."
     Almost in defiance, he lunged at her, but she countered 
it calmly with her violet blade,
which slid into existence mere seconds before the two sabers 
made contact. 
     She was very good, he would give her that.
     He pulled back a bit, and then struck again. She 
countered, and so it went. He struggled
to find her weak spot, but found that he could not give his 
blade enough force to crack her
defense. So they danced across the catwalk, slashing back and 
forth, her eyes never leaving his,
her face set in that stone mask that was beautiful even in 
its dispassion. 
     They spun and whirled, red and violet clashing and 
locking and then parting again, like
fighting insects. She came close to him several times, her 
thick mane of hair touching his cheek,
the smell of her sweat filling his nostrils, and he felt his 
passion for her rise. Much to his internal
dismay, it only made him attack her the harder, and soon she 
was falling back, her mask starting
to slip. A line appeared between her eyebrows, but her 
muscles remained tightly coiled, striking
and drawing and spinning when called upon, even leaping 
upwards, propelling her a good twenty
feet away away from him as he attempted to knock her feet out 
from under her. 
     They paused after that, breathing heavily, neither one 
really desiring the advantage but
neither one desiring to surrender, either. They stared at 
each other, and he paced the short width
of the catwalk, trying to understand what was wrong.
     "Why are you doing this, Seth?" she asked, her voice a 
lull against the low winds of the
ventilation system. "What good will it do you? What purpose 
does it serve?"
     "It serves my purpose," he replied, his voice equally 
calm.
     "And what is that?" she asked.
     "The purpose the cult." He was a little surprised by his 
own unconvincing tone.
     She almost laughed, but stopped herself. "Do you even 
know what it is?" she asked,
stepping closer, her blade lowered.
     "To give birth to the destroyer," he replied, as if 
rehearsed.
     "And what will that accomplish?" It was almost as if she 
were trying to teach him
something, and it irritated him to no end.
     "The destruction of all things. The end of the Jedi, the 
end of the Order of Yejion...the
end of all our enemies."
     "And eventually," she added for him, "the end of you."
     Seth shook his head. "We will be given dominion over 
all---"
     "You practice the sith arts," she said as if she hadn't 
heard him.
     He just scowled at her.
     "The sith wiped themselves out over a thousand years 
ago, Seth," she said, her voice
rising a bit. "They wiped themselves out because evil will 
always beget evil, and will always
desire its own end. Therefore, two men of evil purpose can 
never trust each other, because they
are only looking out for themselves. They will destroy each 
other to get what they want, and so
therefore evil cannot stand. It has no ally, no one to trust. 
And nothing can stand alone."
     "Your Yejion stands alone," Seth challenged. "He serves 
only his own purpose. He uses
you...does he care that you love that man that you just had 
to fight? No, he chastizes you for
being in love, and lets it make you weak. He deserts you 
because if you are not entire focused on
him, you are not worthy of him. That is the surpreme 
selfishness, Vaiya. When you see that, you
will realize what a prize I have offered you as my bride. I 
am not jealous of your other desires--"
     "Aren't you?" she countered, her face twisting a bit in 
anger. Then she banished it. "You
think the fact that I am in love with Larin makes me weak? 
Perhaps you're right, maybe it does.
But I am weak even without that. It is only in Yejion that I 
am strong. He gives me His power,
gives me grace and strength to fight, even when my heart it 
torn. He has chosen me, and it would
be sheer foolishness to choose any but Him in return." She 
paused, stepping even closer. Her
bright eyes bore into his. "And you, Seth. If Yejion is as 
selfish as you believe, why hasn't He
destroyed you? You seek to bring His enemy into the world--if 
He were what you claim, with His
power He could have wiped you out with a mere thought. But He 
has not. He wishes not for the
wicked man to be destroyed, but to repent and live. You know 
that you doubt your purpose, that
you do not desire the coming of the Destroyer--I can see into 
your heart, Seth, as you can see into
mine. What you see in me is blinded by your lusts, but what 
truly keeps you from destroying me
is that I am your last hope. You can't bring yourself to 
destroy me. The only thing keeping you
back from truly hearing me is your fear!"
     "I FEAR NOTHING!" Seth screamed, and charged her. She 
was ready for him, her blade
fast against his. He beat her back, nearly pinning her 
against the door, but she managed to get her
blade firmly under his, and even as he pushed her down, she 
looked up at him, her eyes filled
with light.
     "There is nothing to be afraid of," she told him as he 
glared down at her, using every trick
he had ever been taught to make the bright marks of his face 
intimidate her. She just calmly
looked back, a strange, alien love, making her more beautiful 
than before. Then, she pulled
herself upright, their blades clashing for a second and then 
sliding, his veering off to the side
against hers, their hilts touching as her face came very 
close to his. "Seth," she whispered, her
breath against his mouth. Her mind reached for his. "Trust 
me."
     He shoved her away, and she was caught off guard, her 
back slamming against the door
to the throneroom. 
     "You are a fool, Vaiya," he said, almost sadly. 
     She nodded up at him. "I am a fool," she replied. "But 
there is more wisdom in this folly
than in all of your prophesies of destruction." She paused. 
"But you already know that."
     He stayed back for several moments, contemplating her. 
He had to hit her where she
lived...or rather, loved. "And what about Larin?" he said, 
his voice returning to the deep, slightly
raspy hum. "All of this faith you've been granted, but you 
cannot face Larin? He makes you
stumble and fall, I've seen it. Do you think it's because 
you're afraid of hurting him? No, Vaiya, I
tell you what really scares you...that in his current state, 
you find him even more appealing than
before."
     Vaiya cocked an eyebrow. "I don't know where you got 
that from."
     "Your own thoughts, Vaiya." He grinned, the tattoo 
rippling as he tossed her words back
at her. "As you see mine, I see yours."
     She started, caught off guard by realization that he 
could see much deeper into her than
she had expected. Then she blushed, as if she had been caught 
undressing. Hastily, she threw up
a barrier, but Seth pushed harder, knocking down. How was 
that possible? she thought. And then
shot at him, *And you said you weren't jealous.* 
     Then her eyes bore into his, realizing that there was no 
way else to fight him. She tried
hard to see him as a man, but the longer she looked, the more 
she saw the red, the black, the
horns, the bright, unnatural eyes. She blinked several times, 
and suddenly her expression turned
very sad.
     "Larin is my weakness, that much I will give you. I 
cannot fight him, because I am afraid
of him as he is. I love him with all my heart, and seeing him 
like this is tearing me up. So I was
brave enough to trust Derrin and Drianna to take care of him. 
I did not run. I chose humility."
     "Yet you presume to best me," he said, pointing his 
blade at her. "I, who am by far his
superior. That is not pride?"
     "No, truth. I am not afraid of you, Seth," she said, her 
voice even. "I am afraid only of
losing you."
     He snorted. "Losing me...you stand here and profess love 
for another man, and yet you
fear losing me! What are you hoping for? Oh, do not even say 
it!" Now he was anguished, his
jealousy suddenly roused, and he stepped closer to her, 
brandishing his blade. "I have half a
mind to run in there and kill him myself!"
     She struck that time, hard. He almost stumbled back, but 
he had experience and weight
in his favor. He managed to toss her off, but she got too 
close to the edge and had to do a quick
backflip to land safely on the next catwalk below. He glared 
down at her as she looked up at
him, her serenity back in place. He jumped down to her, and 
she barely stepped aside in time. He
landed inches from her, and her blade caught against his. She 
was pushing him now, backing
him out over the chasm, the catwalk thinning over the large 
and deadly drop into space. She was
his match in every stroke, her eyes locked onto his again.
     He struck back, pouring his rage into his movements, his 
concentration so intense he was
gritting his teeth. He could see a flicker of fear cross her 
face at his ferocity, but she did not back
away, even as his strikes became harder, as he felt her 
muscles begin to tire, even when it
became clear that his anger was stronger than her faith. 
     She would either yield or die. There was no other 
choice.

     This was impossible.
     After Larin had managed to stumble upright, his eyes 
went to his shattered bracelet,
looking more upset about the hunks of metal that were falling 
away than his burned flesh. "No!"
he cried, and then looked at Drianna and Derrin, as if they 
could do something to help him.
     "Larin," Drianna said, her voice loud enough to be heard 
over Larin's high-pitched moans
of pain. He threw himself forward and began to convulse. It 
looked like he had suddenly become
a three-year-old, he seemed so helpless. Drianna approached 
him, grasping him by his shirt,
trying to pull him upright and assess the wound. Derrin 
jumped as she did so, waiting for Larin
to strike out at Drianna. 
     She had him around the neck and managed to stop his 
crying with a sleeper hold on his
shoulder. He suddenly went limp, his head lolling around his 
neck like a ragdoll. His eyes were
glassy and unfocused, and Drianna quickly tore a piece of her 
cloak off to wrap it around the
burned flesh. 
     Derrin dropped himself beside her, holding onto Larin's 
rather heavy frame. The sleeper
hold was something she'd just learned, and she was pretty 
sure she hadn't done it right. Any
second now, Larin was going to-------   
     "Get away from me!" he suddenly screamed, shoving them 
both back. He picked up his
dropped lightsaber, and then called the other one to him, the 
one Vaiya had dropped. He ignited
them both and once, brandishing them at the two Jedi, his 
eyes still gleaming with the maddess
of what was left of the drug in his system. 
     Without a thought, Derrin and Drianna ignited their 
blades. Vaiya had said adreneline
would pump the drug out. Well, he was really going to get it 
now.
     "Fine," Derrin said tightly. "If that's the way you want 
it."
     "Larin," Drianna said, attempting to control the 
situation, "you can't fight us with those
two blades."
     "Can't I?" But she was right. He was unsteady, his 
strength diminished by sudden
withdrawl. He swung them around, the first coming into place 
quite nicely, but the second
flopping like a wooden stick. "Two blades for me, two blades 
for you. Sounds like a nice
match."
     Derrin considered how hard he would have to strike to 
knock one of the blades out of
Larin's hand. Lightsabers always needed a two handled grip. 
Anything else was pure folly. So
with a quick stroke, he slammed the tip of his saber against 
the hilt of the red blade, and Larin
dropped it with a painful yelp. His hand when to the white 
bladed saber, his grip much steadier
than before.
     "I see your point," he said, cocking an eyebrow in what 
almost seemed like calm. "Very
well then. We'll do it your way. But I still get to win." And 
he struck at Derrin with a powerful
blow.
     Drianna tried to take some of the blow, but Larin's foot 
caught against her leg and he
shoved her back, tearing into Derrin eagerly, his desire to 
kill him almost tangible in the dark
room. They clashed and tangled and jumped away, leaping over 
furniture, dancing their
battledance on top of the wider consoles.
     All she could do was watch. Something told her that this 
was not her fight. Maybe Derrin
had to fight it alone. This was his test as a Jedi.
     Larin was rather skilled with his sword, but he did not 
have much experience. Neither did
Derrin, really, but he had had more practice with his skills. 
For a short time, Larin had the upper
hand, backing Derrin into a corner, his anger rising in his 
chest and coming off his face in thick
sweat. Drianna nearly gasped at the amount of dark side 
energy Larin was using--she would
never have thought him strong in it, not as strong as he was 
showing himself to be. Derrin was a
little quicker, as he was a more lanky-built man, and managed 
to push Larin back again, until it
was finally he who had the upper hand.
     White and blue sizzled like warring starlines in the low 
light of the chamber, and finally
Derrin pinned Larin against a large, throne-like chair. He 
struck hard, his blade sideswiping the
heavy burn and shaving off the rest of the metal bar around 
Larin's forearm. Larin shrieked
again, but this time it was a deeper shriek, one of unholy 
rage. The moment of sudden, angry
pain gave Derrin the second he needed. In two heavy strikes, 
the white saber was out of Larin's
hand. 
     Derrin raised his saber over his head. This one was 
pathetic...Vaiya had preferred him
over himself? How could she have lost her taste so quickly! 
And then, as he gazed down at
Larin, who was clutching his arm, his eyes moving away from 
Derrin and the deathstrike that
hovered above him, Derrin noticed that Larin was changing.
     The muscles in his face relaxed. They turned and 
cleared, and he frowned. "Der.....
Derrin?" he said, as if he'd just woken from a deep sleep. 
"Where....." His head slumped forward,
a wave of pain washing over him. 
     Drianna said, "The adreneline," and Derrin nodded, his 
eyes locked on Larin. 
     "I guess that means we can go."
     "We have to get Vaiya." She glanced at Derrin. "I guess 
it's my turn."
     Derrin looked at her, and smiled, his gaze full of love. 
"And what, leave me to play
nursemaid?" he said, his tone almost playful. 
     "Maybe that's your Jedi trial," Drianna offered, going 
to the door. "Taking care of
someone you hate."
     "I don't hate him," Derrin whispered, and found that he 
truly meant it. "I just don't...
understand him."
     The door slid open, and Drianna looked around, hearing 
the distance clashing of
lightsabers but not seeing the fight. She stepped out farther 
on the catwalk, and saw them a level
below her, red and purple blades whirling. 
     "I think I know what you mean," Drianna said, frowning. 
"Should I go help her?"
     "Do you feel you must help her?" Derrin replied.
     Drianna looked over her shoulder at him. "A Jedi for two 
minutes and already you sound
like Master Skywalker." She ignited her blade, flashed him a 
smile, and jumped to the nearby
catwalk.

17--Victory

     Vaiya called upon everything that Syrian had taught her 
during that long year, but she
was slipping. Seth was fuled by his rage, and in spite of his 
deep desire not to kill her, he was
coming a little too close. His blade singed her hair, 
scorched her clothes, and hammered at her
muscles as his blade slammed into hers again and again.
     She had to do something quickly if she didn't want to 
get herself killed.
     She reached out with the Force and shut her eyes, 
letting it guide her, praying for an
opening where she could knock him down. Her sudden change in 
tactic took him by surprise--it
wasn't often when an enemy suddenly went into a meditation in 
the middle of the fight. She
could see the energy around him, and called upon it, drawing 
it away from him and slowing him
down.
     Their blades crossed and twisted as she let hers fall 
under his, then bringing hers back up
to lock with his far to one side. He would have pulled back 
angrily, making her loose her balance
and possibly fall right into his arms, if she had not let go 
of the saber with one hand and balled it
into a fist.
     And sucker-punched him right in the mouth. 
     Uncle Han would be proud, she thought. It seemed that he 
fell in slow motion, his bottom
hitting the hard metal of the catwalk with a faint echo, his 
face comical with surprise and
astonishment. She stood over him, both hands gripping the 
long handle of the saber. He shook
his head and looked up at her. She casually kicked his fallen 
lightsaber over the side, sending it
down into the oblivion below them. The hum of her violet 
blade sounded in his ears, and the
light it cast made her eyes turn a remarkable shade, a color 
he could not even describe. Blue and
purple and green, all set in front of a fire that was not 
like anything he'd ever known before.
     Then, her muscles relaxing and her feet taking a step 
back, she turned off the saber. He
just looked at her, blood dripping from his lip, his teeth 
aching with the vibration of her punch. 
     "What are you doing?" he snarled at her. "Finish me!"
     She shook her head. "Seth, one day you will thank me."
     He jumped up, but she didn't move to defend herself, 
just in case he had another weapon
stashed somewhere. "Finish me, or I will jump!" he raged, 
getting near the edge of the catwalk.
Her eyes smiled at him, that alien love returning to her 
gaze. Her mind reached for his, and he
felt her compassion, her acceptance...her love.
     But there was something else there, as if she were 
merely a brightly colored window to
let the light shine in in all its bright beauty. Another 
light behind the one in her eyes, Someone
reaching for him, Someone he knew, and had always feared. He 
had spent so much time in
denial. So many years in this misery because he was too 
afraid of everything else, too afraid of
being alone, too afraid to search himself. 
     His eyes softened as he realized that this might be his 
only chance. He looked down at
the chasm again, and then slowly, he reconsidered.
     "I don't understand you," was all he could say.
     "You understand more than you think," she replied, 
almost smiling. 
     He gazed at her, feeling as if he had suddenly lost her. 
She had defeated him, and was
going to leave him. He had lost...all those visions, all 
those promises that he had been made...all
of it was lost.
     He sighed. "Very well. Go."
     She shook her head. "I need your help, Seth."
     The continued use of his name made him flinch. Heavy 
despair crept upon his soul, and
he felt his proud shoulders slumping. "Why would you ask me? 
I think you've already taken
enough from me for this day."
     She stepped closer to him, and said in a pleading tone, 
"Cal's taken my parents and I have
to find them." She paused, waiting for him to reply. "Please, 
Seth...please help me."
     He was silent for a long minute, and finally he lifted 
his gaze to Vaiya. "And what do you
offer me in return for my help?" he asked, a touch of 
defiance in his voice. "Surely there is
nothing I could ask that would not tarnish your virtue," he 
muttered sarcastically.
     She frowned at him. "Seth...every journey has a first 
step. I am asking you for this one
favor. In return, I am offering you my trust."
     "Trust," he mocked. "Why trust me? Have I done anything 
to earn it?"
     "No," she replied. "But I'm giving it to you anyway."
     The tone of her voice made him look at her again, and 
their eyes met for more than just a
few seconds. She was offering him her trust, her hand...her 
friendship. He tried to scoff at it and
say, "What good is your trust to me anyway?" but it was weak 
and she saw right through it. 
     "You know what it is," she said, her voice suddenly 
quaking with strong emotions. "Has
anyone ever trusted you, in all your years as a leader? Maybe 
my trust doesn't seem like much,
but I can promise you that it is worth more than a hundred 
favors like the one I'm going to ask."
     He considered this. "I don't know about that," he said, 
pulling his cloak over his head,
which had fallen back to expose his horns. "Why don't you let 
me judge? What do you ask?"
     "Get us out of here," she said. 
     His eyebrows raised. "That's all?" he asked.
     She nodded. "And find out where Cal took my parents."
     Seth snorted. "All of that for a little trust. I think 
I'd like something a little more solid."
     "All right," she said, her voice firm. "If you won't do 
it for my trust...do it because it is the
right thing to do."
     The words stung, and he nearly recoiled. But after a few 
seconds, he managed to
compose himself. When his brothers found out about 
this...."Very well. Follow me."
     
     Vaiya rushed to Larin's side, and she pushed the damp 
hair out of his face, gazing into his
eyes. Her joy at seeing him out of the maddness that had been 
induced radiated from her, and
Derrin felt himself get a little sentimental and put his arm 
around Drianna, who was a little
chagrined that the fight had stopped before she'd gotten to 
it. They were both nervous about
Darth Seth being in the room with them--not even the fact 
that he was lightsaber-less changed it. 
     "Hello, Vaiya," he murmured, smiling up at her. He was 
struggling against the pain that
raged within him. "I think I owe you an apology. As soon as I 
figure out what I did, I'll give it to
you."
     She kissed his cheek and burried her face in his neck, a 
guesture that he melted into. "It's
good to see you, too," she said. "We have to get out of here. 
Can you walk?"
     "Alone, no. Maybe with help." He straightened and 
struggled to get his legs underneath
him. His arm swung over Vaiya's shoulder and she lifted him 
up. Drianna came to Larin's other
side, and he used them like crutches.
     "Vaiya," Seth said, his voice tight, "you should let 
your friends take him. Your skills
might be needed. Surely my brothers have learned of what has 
happened by now."  
     Vaiya nodded, and Derrin came over to take her place. 
Before she stepped away, Larin
tightened his grip around her neck, and pulled her close to 
him, hugging her as hard as was
possible in his current state. 
     "What is it?" she asked.
     "Just something I missed," he whispered, and let her go.
     Seth had his head turned. Even as she went to his side, 
he would not look at her. "This
way, Jedi," he said, and guided them out of the throneroom.

     Vaiya was silent on the way down. Seth had led them to a 
small, private elevator, just
large enough for them all. She did not stand with either Seth 
or Larin, but had her back to them,
her temple lightly touching the wall.
     She could hear whispering.
     It wasn't very loud, and it was more like air than an 
actual sound, but she had heard it
before--or rather, she had felt this way when the angel had 
come to guide her.
     Funny...why didn't she see him now? She could feel him 
as surely as those of flesh and
blood in the lift beside her. It felt like he was standing 
over her shoulder, but other than the
whispers, he was silent.
     The lift stopped and Seth stepped out, but Vaiya found 
herself getting ahead of him. She
stepped into his path and managed to block a killing blast 
with the palm of her hand. A blast that
had been aimed for his head. 
     Seth seemed to wake up, and he saw that there were 
guards nearby, their blasters poised
and ready. But then the guards parted, revealing five figures 
in black cloaks, their red sabers
glowing like stinging tails. 
     The Cult of the Destroyer.
     Darth Knar was at their head, his eyes filled with rage. 
"Betrayer!" he screamed. "You
stand with our enemies, Seth! Now *you* are our enemy!"
     Seth remained silent. He wanted to sneer back at them 
that it made little difference
whether he was their enemy now, because they hadn't been his 
real allies to begin with. But he
didn't. Instead, he reached for the white saber that Larin 
had used, which hung from Drianna's
belt, and ignited it.
     "No," Vaiya said, her voice unnaturally calm.
     "We match them in number," Derrin pointed out.
     "Yes," Vaiya conceeded, "but we're vulnerable."
     "Then we're dead," Seth whispered gravely.
     Vaiya flinched, ever so slightly. These guys had whipped 
her butt before. Maybe Seth
was right, and....
     *Trust Me, Vaiya,* came the inner voice. She gritted her 
teeth, yeilding her will to the
voice.
     "No, we aren't." She stepped closer, pulling her blade 
from her belt. Now she knew why
she had been told to make two blades. As if being guided from 
some outside force, she lifted her
saber and extended one blade.
     It shone and glimmered, outside of its natural powers. 
It seemed as if part of the violet
light were turning to bright silver and sliding off the 
blade. It became tangible and curved
downward, oozing onto the floor in a silver puddle, and then 
taking shape.
     Taking a very human-like shape.
     She ignited the other blade, and it performed the same 
trick. Only it wasn't a trick--it was
real, almost frightfully so. Seth pulled back, fighting his 
own fear of what he felt coming from
that nearly divine blade. Derrin, Larin and Drianna also 
attempted to put a few more feet of
distance between them and Vaiya. 
     The other puddle rose and took shape. Whatever it was, 
it had two arms, two legs, a head
of fire instead of hair, eyes that smouldered like lava, and 
a very bright green lighsaber in its
hands. Its body was covered by a thick white robe, 
embroidered with pearls set in gold. Their
full glory would have been too much for them to see, but 
Vaiya could feel their radiant presence
all through her. It gave her a confidence like she had never 
experienced.
     She smiled. She had not been deserted. 
     The guards were the first to run. The sith lords 
considered their options...then promptly
turned and ran. Vaiya watched them go in amusement, but 
didn't spend long gloating. The two
luminous figures turned to her and saluted her with their 
lightsabers. She saluted them back
before they disappeared. Then she turned to her companions, 
who were gazing at her in awe.
     "Well, what else do you need?" Vaiya said. "Let's go!"
     Hesitantly at first, but then with great urgency, Derrin 
and Drianna carted Larin up into
the small shuttle. Vaiya began to follow, but as she reached 
the top of the ramp, she noticed that
Seth was not making any effort to follow her. He just stood 
at the bottom of the ramp, his eyes
gazing at her calmly.
     They seemed a little less yellow now, and a darker shade 
of green. She approached him.
     "Are you going to stay here?"
     He shrugged. "What other choice do I have?"
     "You could come with us." 
     He smiled and shook his head. "I would be of no use to 
you, Vaiya. I would only get in
the way."
     She shook her head. "You know that isn't true."
     He looked up the ramp, toward where Derrin and Drianna 
had taken Larin. "You truly
love him, don't you?"
     Vaiya nodded. "He needs me."
     "But do you need him?"
     "I---" She considered her answer, then reconsidered any 
answer by saying nothing at all.
She just looked at him, her confusion in her eyes. 
     Such beautiful eyes.....
     "I can leave by another ship," Seth said in a low voice. 
     "Then hurry," Vaiya urged him, taking a step toward him 
and putting her hand on his
shoulder. The guesture was warm, and he relished the feel of 
her touch, even through his thick
black cape. Her concern was almost a caress. "Before they 
catch you alone."
     He nodded, and she turned to head up the ramp, but as 
her hand slid away from him, he
reached up and caught it in his own. She turned, a question 
on her face. He pulled her closer.
     "I know that I wasn't going to ask you anything in 
return for my helping you," he said,
feeling irritatingly awkward as he took in her face one last 
time. "But I would...hope...that you
would not deny me one small grace."
     Her eyes widened slightly, their gem-like depths 
reflecting the markings on his face,
which suddenly seemed so thin and transparent. "What would 
that be?" she whispered.
     He could not bring himself to say it. But still he held 
her close, willing her to know what
it was that he wanted.
     As she gazed back at him, slowly the mask lifted. She 
could see him, the man that he was
underneath it, as surely as if the mask were not there. Then, 
knowing his thought, she reached up
with her other hand and caressed his face, her palm against 
his cheek, her fingers grazing the
base of his horns, ignoring everything but the human face 
that stared back at her.
     Slowly, she kissed him. It was a strange kiss, tinted 
with a deep underlying passion, but
not like the many they had exchanged earlier. It was a clean 
kiss, an innocent kiss...a kiss of
friendship, love, respect.
     A kiss from their souls. 
     As his lips parted from hers, he felt her breath graze 
his teeth. He felt the terrible sting of
tears in his eyes and banished them. She was gazing at him 
with such warmth, her smile making
her entire face take on a soft glow. 
     "Farewell, my friend," she said, stepping away. "If you 
ever need me, you will know
where I am."
     He nodded. The urge to cry out to her, beg her to stay, 
*Don't leave me alone....!* All
those dreams, all those nightmares were coming true before 
his eyes. He had known her before
she was even born in his world of visions, and now that she 
was in the flesh, now that she had
finally found him, he had only their few days for memories. 
All of his waiting had only come to
a few hours where she was his. It seemed almost worth it, as 
her kiss still tingled on his lips. 
Then she was gone, up in the ship, and he had to back away as 
it lifted from the bay floor and
hovered to the nearby exit.
     He glanced at the door that his brothers had disappeared 
through. He considered how
quickly he had to move, and then slowly made his way toward a 
ship. His brothers wouldn't dare
return, not right away. Their focus was gone, and they had 
had the scare of their lifetimes.
     Seth smiled. Today wasn't such a bad day after all.

18---Return of the Jedi

     They laid Larin down on the one lone bunk that occupied 
the shuttle they had stolen. It
was not a place meant for overnight travelers, but a simple 
cargo shuttle meant to transport
goods from one ship to another. The bunk was barely big 
enough to be called a bunk, but for
Larin, just being horizontal was enough to satisfy him. 
     Somewhere close, Vaiya hovered. He opened his eyes, 
which felt raw and bloodshot, and
searched for her, reaching out with his mind. Instantly, she 
was kneeling over him, her bright
eyes gazing down into his with compassion. 
     "How do you feel?" she asked.
     "Like I just came back to myself," he groaned, his voice 
unsteady. He shook himself,
trying to chase away the haze with his will alone. "How 
long....great Yejion, it can't have been
too long..."
     Vaiya cleared her throat. "How long after you left us 
did you meet up with Cal?" she
asked
     "A few days," came the whispered reply. Vaiya turned 
white. "What?"
     "You've been with him for almost two years. He's had you 
on that drug the entire time.
Your body is addicted. What you're suffering from now is 
withdrawl." 
     Larin wanted to lift his head, and felt that in his 
anger he just might be able to do it.
Instead, he forced himself to lay down and relax, shutting 
his eyes against the dark side, against
his rage. As the moments passed, he became aware that Vaiya 
was helping him, pouring her
emotions into his heart, telling him everything he had wanted 
her to say the last time they had
been together...so long ago.
     He opened his eyes. Her look was troubled.
     "I'll be right back," she whispered, and stood up. She 
turned toward a small med kit and
began filling a syringe. Then she turned back and gave him a 
shot.
     "What are you doing?" he moaned, but the instant 
whatever it was in that needle hit his
system, he felt his muscles suddenly relax, as if the pain 
had been forgotten.
     "Drianna and I have been trying to find a way to get you 
through the withdrawl," Vaiya
explained. "You've been sleeping on and off for the last half 
hour, and we're going to be landing
soon on Durran."
     "Why?" He touched her hand. "What is it, Vaiya?"
     She took a deep breath. "Cal has my parents. He's going 
to kill them. I know you've
probably seen it before--"
     "Actually," he interrupted, "I'm rather grateful that I 
don't remember much. Except
hammering away at you." He touched her cheek, feeling he was 
going to burst with his emotions.
She smiled and gently took the hand in hers, but her brow 
furrowed again and she continued.
     "He means it this time. I have to face him and put an 
end to this."
     Larin nodded. "I'm coming with you."
     "No you aren't," she said softly, firmly. "You need 
rest."
     "Hell, with that stuff you just put in me, I could lift 
the entire First Temple." He grinned,
still looking completely beaten, inside and out, but with a 
new energy nonetheless. "Besides, I
don't want you going without me."
     'But you can't!" Vaiya protested. "This isn't some crazy 
stunt we're trying to pull here,
Larin! We could all be killed! You aren't strong enough to 
handle it and you know it!"
     He looked at her very hard, searching her eyes. He had 
not known her for very long, but
knew how much he loved her, and knew that she loved him...no 
matter what shadow had seemed
to fall across her passions since last time. She was still 
his, completely and totally, as he was
hers. But they respected each other. She let him go what he 
had needed to do (of course, he
thought bitterly, look at where it got him) and now he needed 
to do the same for her. but the
thought of her leaving him and going off to face Cal 
Saphringer and his miniature army of goons
made him shudder in the core of his soul. She was in danger, 
he could feel it. Something was
going to strike against her, and she would need him to 
protect her---
     "I will wait here when you leave," he said carefully. 
     She started slightly. "That was too easy," she said.
     He shrugged. "I'm tired." Then, his eyes melted into 
hers and he used the strength he had
left to pull her mouth down to his. 
     Vaiya enjoyed the kiss---even though her heart went to 
Seth for just a moment,
remembering the feel of his lips against hers. It was only a 
moment...Larin was too beautiful to
shut out. She caressed his face, stroked his hair as his arm 
pulled her closer, his fingers sliding
up the back of her head, sending shivers down her spine.
     They parted and Vaiya stood up. "I'll be back before we 
go," she promised. "Sleep."
     "Yes, Ma'am," he said. As she turned and left, it was 
only then that Larin let the shame of
the last two years rush over him. He rolled over and began to 
pray.

     Cal was beyond angry. He was completely incensed. Mara 
had stoutly stood her ground,
and now he was going to have to kill her.
     They stood on the deck of a wide, levitating ship in the 
middle of the great sea of Durran,
also known as the Royal Blue. It was far from any populated 
region, and the best part about it
was that it was the feeding grounds of the pincher sharks, 
who showed their pincher-shaped
horns, curved inward like two bows, as they swam back and 
forth.
     Luke and Mara regarded their situation calmly, and it 
was starting to drive Cal nuts. Mara
kind of gazed at the water over her shoulder, her eyebrows 
raised in disdain as she attempted to
calculate how much time she would have before the sharks got 
to her. Luke, for his part, was just
looking at Cal, his mind focused on Mara, as if even now he 
was determined to stand between
them.
     "Look at it this way, Mara," Cal said with a sneer. "You 
get to die together."
     She turned her head and looked at him as if she had 
forgotten that he was there.
"Whatever, Cal."
     Cal stood up to his full height and waved at his guards. 
They stepped forward and
roughly shoved Luke and Mara in the small of their backs, 
causing them both to stumble. They
could have continued the rough but short march if suddenly 
something hadn't come screaming
through the air, a raging insect of green light with a 
familiar handle, sizzling the spray of foam
coming from the sea around them, and swinging back in an arch 
to get between Luke and the one
who accosted him.
     The blade came down. It severed Luke's bonds, and then 
flipped upright so that Luke
could grasp it. Cal's eyes widened in absolute fury as he 
pulled his own saber from him belt and
lept over the short rail to pounce on Skywalker. But 
Skywalker was fast. He turned and cut
Mara's bonds away with a quick, light stroke. She cooperated 
as if the two were completing the
same motion, her arms coming up to clear him a path. She 
instantly called a nearby blaster to
her, and began firing away.
     Cal screamed as he landed, his orange blade clashing 
harshly against Luke's green one. In
his rage, he did not see Mara's hand slip toward his belt and 
then draw back until he realized that
she had her lightsaber, it's bluish-green glow stationary 
behind him, almost as if she meant to
stab him in the back.
     Neither Skywalker had time to contemplate who their 
rescuer had been. Their Jedi senses
told them enough, even if their human senses had no clue. 
Luke let Cal take the offensive,
carefully remembering his Jedi defensive stance. It had been 
a long time since he'd engaged
someone in battle for real. Cal was an old fashioned villan, 
the kind that always had to do it
himself because no one else got it right. As they clashed 
again and again, Luke began to worry
slightly--Cal was physically younger than him, especially now 
that he had been regenerated. Of
course, Luke himself had experienced the same thing, even 
though not to the extent that Cal had.
These were not his disadvantages, but his vigor to fight had 
mellowed with his years, and while
his body stayed young, his mind had grown and matured to his 
peaceful, mediating Jedi Master
mindstate. 
     It was hard to remember how to fight, even without 
passion, to move quickly and look
for the enemy's weakness without harming him. But Cal was 
faster, his reflexes were quicker,
and before Luke knew it Cal had him pinned against the rail, 
overlooking the hungry pincher-
sharks below. 
     There was a sudden flash of purple energy right behind 
Cal's shoulder, and Cal let out a
small scream, more from shock than from pain. The very edge 
of a lightsaber blade had scored a
heavy black line into his clothes, and as he turned, he 
looked up and saw the lightsaber return to
its owner.
     Vaiya's hand gripped the handle hard, feeling more angry 
than she ever had in her life.
She had spent the trip watching Larin recover from what Cal 
had done to him. She had run from
her home because he had lied to her and deceived her. She had 
run from the temple, where she
was happy and safe, just to come out here and face another 
one of his attempted murders. And
worst of all, she had time and again had to come to the 
rescue of those she loved, those whom
Cal made life miserable for, those who suffered needlessly. 
Now he was trying to kill her father
before her eyes. He was evil. Not even the markings on Seth's 
face could make Cal look more
evil to her than at that moment.
     Evil must be destroyed, she thought, and her rage took 
over, a self-righteous fury that
made her eyes burn and her teeth clench and her lips peel 
back into an angry sneer.
     "Get away from my father, you slime-sucking son-of-a-
Hutt!" she screamed.
     Startled, he gave her a long look. Luke took his chance 
to get out from under the rail, but
knowing the look on Vaiya's face, he did not engage Cal in 
battle again, but instead let the man
creep toward Vaiya, lifting himself up onto the raised 
platform on which she perched, lording it
over him like some large predatory bird.
     Eye to eye, he was a good foot taller than she. But she 
didn't flinch--her rage made her
powerful.
     "Vaiya, I'm impressed," he said, extending his blade to 
hers. "But do you know this
trick?"
     The second saber slid out from the other handle, and 
Vaiya looked at it and grinned.
     "As usual, Cal, I'm ahead of you." And she activated her 
own saber.
     The fight was on.

     Mara made her way over to the nearby docking side of 
Cal's big ship. There were two
smaller water speeders there, both equipped with guns. This 
one was closer, and it had fewer
people. Letting out a roar that Luke had long since taught 
her to do, she jumped onto the speeder,
scaring the hell out of three of the five crew members. They 
dropped their weapons and Mara
quickly used the Force to toss them into the water below.
     "Is this a private party, or can anyone join?" she 
shouted as the remaining crew member
with a gun began to open fire on her. The others picked up 
long metal poles used for steering
and clearing away debris, but she hacked them away with 
little thought.
     Then her danger sense tingled. She looked behind her at 
the remaining guard who was at
the controls. He was grinning at her, his hand on the 
steering stick. With a laugh, he yanked at it
hard, and Mara saw that he had his other hand firmly tied to 
the rail.
     She hit the deck and grabbed the nearby bars as the 
small speeder tipped over. Her
fingers screamed under the sudden strain, but she managed to 
hold on as the machine rolled. The
waves were only feet away from her face, and she saw a few of 
those shark creatures hovering
close, ready to jump. If she had been wearing a cloak, there 
was no doubt that they would have
snatched it up in their teeth. When the dizzying ride stopped 
and she found herself upright once
again, her green eyes narrowed on fury on the driver, and she 
lunged at him. His expression went
from malicious glee to stunned realization that she had held 
on. As her fingers closed about his
collar, he could hear the screams of the others on the 
hoverboat as the sharks lept to receive his
gift to them. 
     Mara glared down at him, her saber close to his neck. 
"The way I see it, you have two
options," she said, her voice deadly calm. "You can either 
sink or swim."
     He jerked out of her grip and heaved himself over the 
rail, praying he could get to the
bigger boat before the sharks had finished with his friends 
and decided they wanted seconds.
     It was then that she detected the new presence. 
Familiar, and yet not familiar...she
whipped her head around.
     He came from the lower decks of the bigger boat, jumping 
across to land on the speeder
beside her. Mara found herself distracted with the effort to 
remember who he was, and then it
came to her that he worked for Cal. She raised her saber, but 
he put his hands up as he landed,
his face changed from the madman he had once been.
     "Who are you?" she demanded.
     "A friend," he replied, his eyes hopeful. Such eyes they 
were, too. As she briefly probed
his mind, she could see Vaiya there, and she relaxed.
     "Then come join the party, friend," she said. "And be 
sure to stay away from the dip."
      He frowned slightly, not understanding Mara's pun, but 
then the heavy sound of
lightsabers clashing caught both their attention, and they 
turned and looked up to see Vaiya and
Cal hacking away at each other, their faces glistening with 
sweat, their muscles tense and
locked, their mouths grim with determination.
     Mara felt the vibration in the Force. "Too much," she 
whispered, feeling like she was
going to stumble. "Too much...."
     "The dark side," Larin whispered. "She'll fall at this 
rate." Then he turned and looked at
Mara again, pulling a golden-handled saber from his belt and 
igniting it. It glowed a brilliant,
pure white.
     "Excuse me," he said, and lept up to the rail.
     Mara jumped. There was no *way* that this guy could take 
on Cal Saphringer! His body
was beginning to shake from his exertion. Whatever had 
happened to him, it must have been an
awful lot, because Mara could easily see that he was hiding 
his weakness behind a facade of
bravery.
     "Hey!" she shouted, but it was too late. He lept for the 
larger ship, and she was surprised
that even in his weakness, his Force ability was strong. He 
landed against the heavily steeped
side with breathtaking agility.
     She could only cock her eyebrow after him in confusion, 
but it quickly passed into a
grudging admiration. After all, he was going to go save 
Vaiya. How could Mara possibly argue
with that?
     
     Luke had sensed the dark side the second Vaiya appeared. 
In spite of the fact that her
mere presence was a miracle, there was a deep rage in her. A 
righteous, well-deserved rage, to
be sure, but a deadly one. Her conflict with Cal had finally 
caused a fountain of animosity to
swell with her, and its waters poured over her heart, fueling 
her with new strength.
     The strength of hate.
     At first, Luke tried to call to her, remind her not to 
use her hate, to remember the light, to
stay away from the dark side. But she did not hear him. Her 
entire focus was locked, her
attention solely on her fight with Cal. While in the depths 
of his heart he truly wished for her to
strike him down, he knew that if it was with her hatred she 
might never recover the light that she
had been blessed with, even in her youth. 
     But the force of their battle shut him out. 
     So instead he tried to stay close, watching and waiting 
while he kept the ground troops at
bay, slicing off the ends of their blasters and destroying 
the small cannons that decorated the rim
of the boat. Then he saw one gunner aim for something on the 
port side of the boat, and as he
judged the distance, he realized that he would not get to the 
man in time. He reached out with his
mind, and saw that the gunner was aiming at Mara.
     It felt like it happened in slow motion. Luke turned, 
shifting his weight to throw his
momentum in the right direction, but it wasn't enough. He 
reached out with the Force, trying to
get a grip on the man's throat, hoping lack of air would 
stall him, and was relieved to find that
the trick worked. The man pulled away from the aiming glass, 
his hand going to his throat, but a
hard look of determination crossed his space-burned features 
and his hand closed even tighter
around the trigger of the cannon.
     Luke prepared to throw his saber, but suddenly a white 
saber arched up from below and
severed the head of the cannon. It caused an electric 
explosion that forced the gunner back,
shrieking in pain. Luke let go of his hold on the man's 
throat, his defense immediately switched
to discover their new friend. He knew this presence, but it 
wasn't familiar...although it should
have been, he was sure---
     A head full of thick brownish-blond hair and eyes that 
were indescernable in color
appeared over the rail of the boat. They looked at Luke at 
first in astonishment, and then in
recognition.
     "Master Skywalker," he said, swinging himself onto the 
deck. 
     Luke nodded. "Larin, right?" he said. Then, warily, "How 
are you feeling."
     Larin tossed him a grin. "I'll tell you in a minute."
     Luke watched as the man strode purposefully down the 
deck to where Vaiya and Cal
were fighting. He would have smiled, if a hatch from below 
hadn't suddenly popped up under
him, revealing two familiar, grease-streaked faces.
     "She's all set to blow!" Drianna said, letting Derrin 
help her out of the hatch. "We'd better
get out of her!"
     Luke nodded, and then felt another ripple in the Force. 
This one was harder, more direct,
and it made him groan slightly with its closeness.
     Drianna and Derrin felt it, too, and drew their sabers 
from their belt, thinking the enemy
to be close by. But as they followed Luke's gaze, they saw 
the source.
     Vaiya was going to tear Cal in half.

     She drove against him, trying to remember everything 
that Syrian had taught her.
Fighting with Seth had not been like this. She had not wanted 
to hurt Seth, not in the least. She
should have been angry with him, but she had forsaken her 
anger. Now, that anger had returned,
and it would not release its grip on her.
     With each lightning-quick stroke of her blade, she got 
nearer and nearer. She could feel
the dark side closing in around her, but it wasn't the 
suffocating despair that she had always
believed. It seemed so familiar in its nature, like a bright 
light dimming slowly until you don't
even realize that you're closed in darkness. And with the 
darkness came power, the power to
move faster, to strike harder, to batter Cal until she saw 
the arrogance in his handsome, youthful
face fade away until she could see the bitter darkness that 
lay within him. 
     She struck again, with both blades. He caught it 
quickly. If he had had only one blade, he
would not have been able to match her, but he did, and it 
kept them at a stalemate for a good
several minutes. He tired to push her back, bring the fight 
to her, but she was steady footed and
not about to be pushed. He managed to get behind her, so that 
she stood not too far from the rail.
Maybe if he could get her to slip, or something hit her hard 
enough, she might slip.
     Suddenly, without warning, he smiled.
     "Vaiya, I think you have a temper problem," he hissed.
     Vaiya's rage grew at the sudden condescending smuggness 
that filled his face. "Big words
for a man who's losing!" she growled, her blade coming down 
hard on top of his. He slid his own
blade across the heavy hold, managing to get his on top of it 
for just a second. The effort made
her pause because of its unexpectedness. Her eyes widened, 
and she stared at him, her mouth
slightly agape as she struggled to breathe.
     "Am I losing?" he asked. "You can strike me down, Vaiya, 
but I will still win. Because if
you kill me, you will become me. I swear it by all the dark 
powers I know."
     "I know your dark powers!" she sneered back, their 
blades unlocking. "Do you think that
cult will be loyal to you? They betrayed their own! You're no 
less a pawn than Seth was!" She
brought hers down onto his with unrepentant fury, her words 
coming out in short, breathy gasps
as she used all of her strength. The more Cal gazed at her 
with that knowing smile, the harder
she struck until she felt her strength give way. 
     Only too late did she realize it. The muscles in her 
arms started to tingle so badly that she
found she couldn't lift them. She looked up at Cal, whose 
arrogance had returned a hundred fold,
in time to see him almost casually swipe the lower part of 
his lightsaber at her.
     It grazed her leg, the deadly tip slicing through her 
clothes, going into her leg, going
across the flesh and easily tearing through it. She screamed 
as the wound began to bleed heavily,
from her mid-thigh to her knee, and barely managed to crumple 
to the deck in time to save the
limb before it was severed completely.
     Cal stood over her, victorious but panting heavily. He 
pointed the lower end of his blade
at her, bringing it closer to her face. He was going to make 
this slow. He was going to tear her
eyes out, slash her jaw away, and then rip her open from stem 
to stern. His teeth gritted as he
grinned with glee, getting closer and closer to her, savoring 
her fear, empowered by the dark
forces that surrounded them, empowered by her fear as he 
showed her his thoughts.
     Then came the white blade, down across his, shoving it 
to the side. Cal tried to
compensate by bringing it back, but as he looked up into 
Larin's face, his expression crumbled.
     Larin did not speak as he gazed at Cal, but his 
expression told Cal everything. He was off
the drug, his arm was scarred heavily but he was upright and 
breathing. He wasn't that strong--
Cal calculated how much effort it would take for him to 
overpower him, but he abandoned it as
Larin's eyes bore into his, daring him to try, promising him 
that he would regret it. Then, calmly,
Cal withdrew, taking a step back, his saber sliding away and 
disappearing into his belt. He
nodded. "Another time, then," he murmured, and promptly threw 
himself over the opposing rail.
     Larin rushed to the rail in time to see Cal land safely 
on the other speeder, which had
been hiding on the other side of the boat. Cal waved at him 
as the boat tore off, shooting bright
purple lazer blasts behind it toward the other speeder.
     Larin looked down at Vaiya, who stared up at him, so 
stunned by his presence that she
was not even thinking about her pain. Without a word, he 
picked her up in his arms.
     "Hold on," he whispered.

     "Sith!" Derrin swore as he dove for the small cannon on 
the back of the boat. The purple
fire missed them, but he was determined to return it. 
Instead, he was annoyed to find that Mara
had taken the controls of the ship and was going forward, 
causing him to almost lose his balance.
     "HOLD ON!" she screamed, her face arching upward toward 
the main deck of the boat.
"COME ON!" Her voice carried like thunder. "LAST FERRY OUT OF 
HELL BOARDS NOW!"
     Luke jumped from his perch on the rail, the last of the 
three Jedi to abandon the ship. He
landed a few feet away from Mara, and she gave him a split 
second to steady himself before she
tore forward again.
     All four of them searched the deck for Vaiya. What they 
did see, they didn't quite
believe. Larin was lifting Vaiya up, her leg oozing with 
blood. He jumped up onto the rail, every
last ounce of his strength poured into the movement, and then 
he jumped.
     Incredibly, he landed on his feet, Vaiya firmly clutched 
in his grip. He rocked forward
and set her down--a bit bumpy, but it got the job done. Then 
he swayed back on his feet and
nearly collapsed onto his behind, gasping for air.
     Vaiya lay sprawled on the deck, gasping in pain, the 
severity of her wound finally
reaching her. Luke came forward to attend to her, but at that 
moment the large ship behind them
exploded.
     They hit the deck, their arms covering their faces, the 
small boat rocking wildly for a few
seconds, even as Mara managed to maintain enough control to 
keep them going. She increased
the speed, opening everything to full throttle. The water 
beneath them parted with the heavy
force, sending thin spray up onto the passengers.
     Luke reached Vaiya and began to supress her pain. But 
while her mind cooperated with
his, her eyes were locked on Larin, who was still breathing 
heavily, his flesh turning a sickly
white, while his cheeks burned with exertion. 
     She didn't say anything. She shut her eyes, and let her 
father do his work.

19--Light of the Force

     The ocean of Durran was rather large, and they had 
plenty of time to put Vaiya in a
healing trance before they finally docked. Mara didn't know 
the area too well and had to rely on
a semi-conscious Larin to tell her the fastest route to the 
First Temple. When they reached dry
land, Mara discovered with surprise that Cal's little speeder 
was more agile than she had
believed. It quickly switched from its water legs to a more 
sturdy hovering, sutible for solid
ground. It took them the better part of an hour, but they 
managed to find a place to get Vaiya
cleaned up. They weren't even given funny looks. But they 
shrugged it off as being due to the
fact that humanoid offworlders would probably blend in pretty 
well in populated areas like this
one.
     At a secluded in, located in a heavily wooded area of 
the edge of the city, they laid low.
Vaiya healed quickly, as lightsaber wounds usually cauterize 
themselves. It was the bleeding that
was her real danger because her leg was ripped in a wide V, 
and it took a lot of effort to contain
the blood. 
     Emotionally, however, she was a sulky, self-hating 
wreck.
     She did not speak to anyone outside of the bare minimum 
to took to tell them whether
the wound hurt or not, or how it felt. Her face was drawn, 
her eyes bloodshot, her entire features
slumped in dejection. Larin wished he had the strength to 
comfort her, but he was desperately
trying to build himself back up. After Mara and Luke had left 
them to their privacy, they lay on
the bed together. Vaiya had stoutly refused to let them pull 
it back, so she lay on top of the soft
comforter, her leg bound and lying on some heavy cotton that 
had been put there not just to padd
the leg but to catch any more blood if it decided to flow 
again. Larin dragged himself into the
room, and her expression changed from one of self-reproach to 
concern for him. She shifted
slightly, being careful not to move her leg, and pulled a 
pillow out from the bed to set it down
beside her.
     "You're exhausted," she said. 
     He nodded as he sat down on the bed. Fatigue screamed 
through every inch of him. He
didn't even have the strength to speak, simply obey as she 
patted the pillow and reached out for
him, to help him lie down, which he did. She caressed his 
brow, pushing back the thick hair. It
seemed darker now, more of a brown than a blond, and his 
eyes, as they gaze up at her, were a
hazy blue with his emotions. She wanted to smile at him 
reassuringly, but found that she
couldn't.
     "What is it?" he whispered, taking her hand in his. 
     She shook her head, and then reconsidered, her eyes 
softening. "Thank you for saving me
before."
     He just smiled, a small laugh escaping the back of his 
throat. "You don't have to thank
me for that. Do you think I would let Cal touch you?" He 
paused, his face flinching with
memories. "When I'm not on some personality-altering drug, 
that is."
     "No, not from Cal. From myself."
     He looked up at her, his eyes so blue now they made her 
thing of the sea they had just
passed.
     "I almost gave in to the dark side," she whispered. "In 
fact, I did give into it. Full throttle,
I gave in, knowing it was wrong and not even caring. I would 
have killed Cal, or he would have
killed me. Or both." She shut her eyes, her face contorting 
with her guilt, and she shook her
head, her throat closing. "God...I can't believe I would do 
that!" Her eyes opened, and the despair
in them was tanglible.
     Larin rolled himself over and pulled himself closer to 
her, so that is face was inches from
her. "So you're human," he whispered. "It happens to 
everyone. We're flawed, Vaiya. Terribly
flawed--we're stepped in our own weakness and it is only by 
grace that we can keep from falling
into darkness completely."
     "But that's just the point!" she cried. "I had that 
grace...Larin, you don't know the things I
was able to do when we faced that cult before, in Cal's 
spacestation."
     He regarded her calmly. "Such as."
     So she told him. She told him about the angel that had 
appeared to her in the First
Temple. She told him about how it had set her free when she 
was being held captive, hesitantly
related how she had fallen when Larin had appeared, much 
changed. She told him how the
angels had appeared at her sides when she had gone up against 
the cult brothers. She told him
how she had helped the leader, Seth, break way from their 
power, and while Larin scowled
slightly at the mention of the sith lord's name, he still 
listened.
     When she was done, she was exhausted, and lay her head 
down on the nearby pillow.
"All of that, only to fall now. I feel like such 
a....failure."
     Larin was silent for a long time. He lay back on the 
pillow, staring up at the ceiling. Just
as Vaiya felt a real batch of tears start to well up in her 
eyes, he spoke.
     "You're not a failure, Vaiya, if you try again."
     "Try what? What could I possibly do that I haven't 
already done?"
     He glanced at her, his look mildly reproaching. "You 
know it isn't done. Are you going to
give up now? You saved me, you saved your parents, you saved 
that Seth...all that is left is what
you've been searching for, and your mother has been searching 
for for the last twenty years."
     "And that is?"
     "Your brother, Vaiya. Cal still has him. And if we don't 
get moving soon, only Yejion
knows what will happen to him."
     Vaiya jumped. "Oh great stars. I almost forgot!" Her 
eyes grew wide as panic threatened
to take control. "What do you think he'll do?"
     Larin shrugged. "I remember bits and pieces of my 
captivity," he said softly. "I remember
treating you...terribly. You fell before because of me."
     She frowned. "Don't change the subject. Anything but 
that."
     "I could go into a nice bought of self-pity and claim 
that I am your weakness," he said, a
bit sardonically, "but I can't do that. You see, I know that 
you have to come with me if we want
to get Valery back. I wasn't your weakness, Vaiya. It was 
your emotions that got in your way,
just like they did with Cal. Don't you see? It's classic dark 
side rage. No different than any other
Jedi Knight. You have to remember all the things you've 
learned to fight it, and call on the new
weapons as well. Everything depends on it."
     Vaiya flinched and turned away. She had expected more 
coddling from Larin, even
demanded it. After the way he'd behaved, even if he wasn't 
physically responsible, he was still
personally responsible, as it was his face and person 
everyone saw. But even though he was sorry
for what he had done, he was not willing to sit around and 
wallow. From that, she found a
grudging admiration. It was very little against her wounded 
pride, until he reached out for her in
a loving embrace.
     "Don't be mad at me, Vaiya," he whispered. "I love you 
more than myself. I wish I could
run myself through with my own lightsaber for what I did to 
you, but I can't. We're called to
something higher. We have a mission to accomplish."
     "And when this is over," she said, her voice sounding 
distant. "You're going to leave me."
     He paused. It stunned him, the things she knew...the 
things that just came to her, as if
placed there by a higher power. "What makes you think that?"
     She rolled over and looked at him, her face softening. 
"Larin...after all you've been
through, you need time. Time alone to sort it out. You don't 
need me getting in the way." She
shook her head and laughed a little. "It seems that your 
emotions for me are your weakness, too.
I guess that means we have something in common."
     "Or that we're very much in love." He cradled her cheek 
in his palm, wanting to kiss her.
     Gently, she pushed him away. "There is a time for 
everything. I have a feeling that it
won't be so terribly long, but it will be a separation."
     It was his turn to frown in confusion, and his thoughts 
whirled with the unfairness of the
situation.
     "The best things in life," she said, suddenly sounding 
wise, "are always worth waiting for.
I love you, Larin," and his face lit up with the words that 
she was saying for what felt like the
first time, "and I want to be your wife."
     His face seemed to shine with an otherworldly light as 
he smiled at her, gently, lovingly.
"When we are together again," he promised, "I will make you 
my wife."
     He reached forward and kissed her. It was a long kiss, 
their lips pressed tightly, their
breath mingling. When they pulled away, it felt like they 
didn't even need to speak.
     Still: "We need to heal fast," she murmured.
     "We can take one day," he said, settling down on the 
pillow. "But that's it."
     "Will that be enough?" she asked softly.
     He nodded. "It will be. I know it."
     She nodded back. She knew he was being guided as surely 
as she was. As she slipped
away, her hand reached for his, and his strong fingers closed 
around it. 

     **You cannot judge the soul of a man. Only I can judge, 
for I am the only Judge, and the
Ruler of all hearts. So says Yejion....*

     Night fell. When Vaiya awoke, just as the first rosy 
tendrils of dawn started their long
reach up into the sky, she was alone. For a moment, she was 
afraid that he had left her for good,
but a gentle touch against her thoughts told her that he 
wasn't too far away--he just needed time.
     Something had stirred her. A memory, perhaps...the 
things she had been told by the
angel, maybe. Something about judging people. She shut her 
eyes and let her suddenly jumbled
thoughts fall into peaceful order, and then she could recall 
it more clearly.
     This confrontation would cost her more than she had 
originally thought. The words that
had been spoken to her just days ago, while she was praying 
in the temple, catapulted her into a
myriad of visions. None of them were clear--She saw Larin, 
his face covered with blood, but he
was beaming with victory. She saw Seth, stripped to his 
waist, his facial tattoo covering the
uppermost part of his chest and his shoulders, but his bared 
arms and stomach of the same
fleshtones as herself. Water poured down on top of him, and 
he disappeared as she saw her
brother, Valery, and an uncanny ability to heal. She saw him 
as a boy, and then saw him as a
man, ready to fight for what he believed in, ready to die for 
the Order of Yejion. 
     She shook the visions aside. They were distractions, 
ways that the dark side was slipping
into her subconscious, trying to make her ignore the message 
she knew was coming.
     *Do not take your lightsaber.*
     She opened her eyes and looked down to see she was 
gripping it in her right hand, even
though she had not worn it to bed. She picked it up and 
studied it as if she had never seen it
before. It was the only weapon she could have as a Jedi, to 
be used only in defense and never in
attack.
     She had to leave it.
     Whatever happened between her and Cal, she had to trust 
that she would be able to
handle it. Or maybe...maybe she wasn't meant to survive this. 
Perhaps that was why she was
seeing this flittering glimpse into the future. Everyone 
would live happily ever after, but she had
to die first.
     Vaiya shut her eyes, the realization washing over her 
fast. She pulled her knees to her
chest and rocked back and forth, her lightsaber still 
clenched in her fist. This wasn't fair...Larin
being addicted to those terrible drugs and barely able to 
fight, her not even able to bring her
lightsaber....she had been told to make it as she had! What 
good was it here? Then she
remembered facing down the brotherhood of sith lords and 
realized that the saber's second blade
had served its purpose. Perhaps she would never use it again. 
Perhaps she would never use the
saber again, period.
     Perhaps she was going to die.
     Long minutes passed as Vaiya struggled. The minutes 
turned into an hour, and she
struggled with herself. If she brought the saber, she could 
destroy Cal quickly. But she would
give in to the dark side to destroy him, and wind up 
destroying herself. Or she could leave the
saber, and Cal would be quick to cut her down. Even if he 
attacked in an attempt to flush out her
blade, she would not be able to stop him. She would be 
helpless. Helpless before his evil, and
the evil of the cult that was now backing him.
     She prayed, but it was hard. She dug deep inside herself 
and saw how much she had
accomplished at her young age. She thought of Valery, of how 
she barely knew him, and he was
her one and only brother. She thought of Larin, and how much 
she loved him and wanted to be
his wife. She thought of Seth, and how she had chosen her 
feelings for Larin over him, even
though he had made her feel things that Larin was keeping 
from her--for the time being. Why?
Did he know she was going to die? And Seth...such a 
passionate man. She had kissed him with
such benevolence. Surely he believed that there was nothing 
between them but a lot of lust and a
little bit of destiny. But she banished thoughts of him and 
turned to her parents.
     They had fought at her side for so long...they had to be 
told where she and Larin were
going to go. If only she knew what to tell them.

     Mara looked out over the low, thin forest. It wasn't 
exactly a forest, but more like a
swamp without all the water. The heavy bushes were deep 
green, their leaves spread wide and
long over each other. Around them danced several dozen 
sparkler bugs, their quick flames
flickering on and off, as if the woods were glittering like 
gold. 
     It would have been beautiful. But Mara didn't feel like 
looking much. She was worrying
again...Luke could sense it. Gently, he pulled her into his 
arms from behind, his hands sliding
under hers where they knotted together on the rail.
     "Worried."
     "Yes. But it isn't that."
     Luke gently probed. "You're thinking about my son?" he 
whispered.
     Mara nodded. "Can't you feel him? I've felt him since we 
came back here. I was hoping to
be able to do some research into my family history, but I 
haven't had a chance to go near any of
the public records." She grimaced. "So close, Luke. I feel 
like it's all a part of me, and it's just out
of reach."
     "Your past...or Valery?"
     "Valery. What an odd name...it sounds like a childish 
variation of Valeris. Perhaps when
he gets older, he should be called Valeris."
     "Well, he is only a boy. Ten years old by now, according 
to Vaiya."
     Mara turned, her expression troubled. "Do you think he 
would like me?" she whispered. 
     "What?"
     She shrugged. "I'm not his mother. Callista was his 
mother. I feel bad because I left her
lightsaber at home." She was starting to ramble now, but her 
fear was real. "I'm afraid that he'll
hate me because of...well, you know."   
     Luke nodded. "I think you should wait until we find him 
first."
     "I will find him," came a familiar voice. The two 
parents turned to see their daughter
coming toward them. She had changed out of that purple velvet 
costume and into a sleek black
suit that was remarkably like Luke's version of the Jedi 
uniform, only new and neatly pressed.
The front flap hung open, but she wore a thick cloak over her 
shoulders with a hood, all made of
that purple velvet. 
     "Do you know where he is?" Mara asked, stepping closer 
to her daughter.
     "No, but I will." Vaiya's face was grave. "I will bring 
him home to you, Father," she said.
"I promise."
     Luke found his way to Mara's side and looked at his 
daughter carefully. "Maybe you need
a few more hours in the trance," he suggested. "You look 
almost delirious."
     Vaiya smiled and nodded her head. " I am delirious, but 
my delirium is more real than
anything right now. I came here to tell you that....Larin and 
I....we're going to go confront Cal. I
don't know what we're going to do, but we have to gain some 
sort of closure for him or else he'll
be haunting us for the rest of our lives." The look on her 
face was almost angelic in nature.
     It frightened them.
     Suddenly, she unlatched her lightsaber and stepped 
toward them. "You need to keep this
for me," she said, her voice nearly husky as she strained to 
make it sincere. As Luke reached out
for the double-ended device, he felt Vaiya resist and nearly 
pulled back, but a quick prod with
the Force shut out the indecision from his mind. Calmly, she 
put down her hand and continued
her serene stare at her parents.
     "You're going...without your lightsaber?" Mara asked, as 
if it were a joke. "Are you
kidding?" she demanded. "He'll cut you to shreds! He'll---"
     "Mother," Vaiya whispered, and she fell silent, her eyes 
darting only to Luke to see the
look on his face. 
     It was a devistated look. Perhaps many years ago he had 
worn that look as his father died
in his arms---a good death, a death in the light, but another 
wound of loss that he had to sustain.
He had lost his father, his mother...he had never known his 
son. Now his faith demanded that he
also sacrifice his daughter. Anger rushed through him, anger 
at Cal and the desire to cut him
down himself.
     Mara's voice stopped him. "No," she said, very evenly. 
"You're not going. It isn't you he
wants, it's me. I started all of this, and I will finish it."
     Vaiya smiled, ever so gently, in compassion. "No, 
Mother. I am taking your place. I have
been told to do so. Yavin will move before I will sway from 
this course."
     Mara's face darkened, and her anger, like Luke's, 
swelled. Luke reached out to her with
his mind, showing her how to release the rage. 
     Vaiya continued to speak as her parents struggled for a 
grip. "I was once friends with Cal,
even if he was lying to us and deceiving us. But why did he 
not strike against me when we were
students together? This doesn't make sense. I was told to not 
judge any man's heart. I cannot
judge Cal's heart, either. I feel that there is some good in 
him...."
     Luke jumped slightly. "Vaiya, take heed," he whispered. 
"I know about trying to bring
back people from the dark side. It's hard to do without 
losing your life in the...process."
     He froze as the look on Vaiya's face changed. She was 
holding back tears, and her throat
had started to close.
     "That is why I wanted to say goodbye," she managed. "I 
wanted to tell you, because you
two have done and sacrificed so much for me. And I think you 
have a right to know....I may not
return." She struggled for more words, but could only manage, 
"I may not...." 
     At first, they just gawked at her. Then it ran through 
their minds all the possibilities of
what she was implying. Would she give in to the dark side? 
Would she defeat Cal and then run
away because she was unable to kill him, or had killed him 
and was suffering from the guilt?
Surely she would not believe herself to be capable of such 
cowardice. Finally, that left only one
option.
     Vaiya might be killed.
     Mara was the first one to react. She stepped forward and 
pulled Vaiya into a powerful
embrace. In a few seconds, Luke followed, his arm around his 
wife, the other around his child as
she struggled to keep herself composed in the heat of 
emotion. 
     It was hard to hold her there, knowing the seconds would 
pass. She had grown up so fast.
It wasn't fair to lose her so soon! She was so young, she 
wasn't even at her full growth yet! Her
powers were barely being tapped into, and she had so much to 
live for. Now she was telling
them farewell as she slipped out of their embrace, her eyes 
flowing with tears and her cheeks
wet, but composed perfectly in her mind and heart. She prayed 
for them, and then stepped away.
     They clung to her hands, and she had to extract them. 
Although it was a difficult
moment, Mara and Luke remained composed, and started at their 
daughter with pure wonder.
     Vaiya nodded and smiled, her left hand still in Mara's 
grip but slowly coming back to
her. She stepped back, and her hand came free. As the grip of 
her flesh let go, she let herself go.
As she gazed at them next, they seemed almost like the angels 
that had visited her over the last
months. Except the angels had been confident and unafraid of 
anything.
     Luke and Mara stared at her as if they were trying to 
memorize her every last feature.
The fear that rose from them was thick, and while she was 
tempted to remind them that fear was
from the dark side, she could not begrudge them this small 
bit. They were afraid that their child
was going to die. It was a hard thing to dismiss.
     Perhaps some fear was good. She took a deep breath and 
locked hers away, carefully
focusing it only on her fear of failure, of weakness, of 
doubt. Would she be strong enough?
Would she be able to face the end? Without even her 
lightsaber to defend her, she felt like a
lamb being led to a sacrifice. 
     She took one last look at her parents. "I love you," she 
whispered, and it carried like a
song in the night covered forrest. Then, with a last, brave 
glance, she lowered her head and
turned away.
     Luke and Mara watched her go, the despair tangible in 
the darkness around them. She
seemed to float out of their view, her thick cloak draped 
over her shoulders, then the hood pulled
over her head. When she disappeared altogether, it seemed 
that she had merely become a part of
the shadows.
     They looked at each other, shaken. Then, in the same 
motion, they turned to each other
and held each other fast. Their minds touched, seeking 
comfort, but all they could come up with
was an unerring faith that Vaiya was right. 

20--Showdown

     By some small miracle, Larin had managed to get a 
shuttle. Vaiya did not question him
as to how he had gotten it, she just accepted it and boarded. 
Larin waited for her at the top of the
ramp, his face bright as the withdrawl of the drugs faded 
slowly from his body. He seemed
remarkably healthy for having been in a healing trance for 
such a short time, but Vaiya did not
question that, either. Just as she did not question her own 
calm, her feeling of strength.
     "Where is your lightsaber?" Larin asked, his smooth face 
crinkling into a frown as his
eyes landed on her bare waist.
     "I left it," she whispered. She kept going, taking her 
seat at the small console, beside the
pilot's seat, which Larin quickly took. He started up the 
engines, and Vaiya took it as a sign that
he didn't want to fight with her over it--as by human logic 
he should have; watching her go into a
battle without a lightsaber to defend herself was about the 
equivalent of watching her committ
suicide.
     "Why?" was all he asked.
     Vaiya frowned, knowing she had an answer, but unable to 
voice it. "A long time ago, my
father was training to be a Jedi," she tried. "He was trained 
by the Jedi Master Yoda, on
Degobah. And when he faced the dark side for the first time, 
it was in a cave that was heavy with
evil. They think a sith lord died there or something like 
that. But the point is, when Father went
to go into the cave, he took his lightsaber and his blaster. 
Master Yoda tried to warn him, telling
him that what he would find in the cave was only what he took 
with him. Because he brought his
weapons, he was faced with a vision of violence, and part of 
it came true. He didn't trust in the
light side of the Force, didn't trust in its strength." She 
paused, carefully chosing her words. "The
light side of the Force may not have been enough to give him 
faith, but I've found something
better than just the Force. And after all I've seen, I'm 
willing to put a little faith into this, even
though I'm walking right into the dark side."
     Larin nodded. "Master Luke told me that story. He told 
us that we were walking into our
own cave, and to take with us only what we want to find." 
Larin shifted, and Vaiya caught the
glint of Valeris' old lightsaber. She wanted to be surprised, 
even upset, but instead she just
nodded. "I was told to bring this, Vaiya. I have no 
intentions of using it, but I was told to bring
it."
     "That is your path," she whispered. "I wish I knew 
mine."

     Larin managed to piece together from his fractured 
memory a rough plan for getting into
Cal's station without Cal knowing, and they managed to hide 
in an obscure dock that was
probably used only for disposing trash. It looked abandoned 
enough to be safe, but they took care
in getting inside, relying heavily on the Force to watch for 
unexpected occupants. A surprisingly
short time later, they were in the core, over the catwalks, 
heading for the throne room. Vaiya
looked around her and shuddered. A brief vision of her fight 
with Seth flashed before her eyes,
but she dismissed it.
     Now was not the time.
     "This is too easy," Larin whispered. They paused, only 
half-way across the catwalk, their
bodies tense in hesitation. "He should have detected us by 
now."
     "Maybe he wants us to come to him," Vaiya whispered. "He 
wants us to walk into a trap,
or whatever is behind those doors."
     Larin nodded. "Then perhaps we should split up."
     "Good idea. You go find Valery, and I'll take Cal."
     Larin jerked his head around to gawk at her. "What?"
     "You heard me." Her voice had gotten deeper and she took 
a step forward. "Go find your
brother." She looked at him, hard. "You've spent most of your 
life running away from him, Larin.
Now you have to find him. His life depends on it."
     Larin stared at her for a long moment, and then nodded. 
"Do you want my lightsaber?"
     Vaiya smiled faintly as she gazed back at the throneroom 
door. *You find only what you
take with you...*  "No," she said. "I'll be fine."
     They exchanged meaningful looks, and then parted ways. 

     Larin moved quickly and with purpose. The Force showed 
him the way, Valery's young
mind in a strange state of calm, as if the boy knew that 
rescue wasn't far away. Larin sent him
reassurance, only to find that it was he who needed it, not 
Valery.
     He smiled to himself. He was so young, just barely a 
decade old. The last few years of his
life, though, were spent beyond his youth. He had been 
searching for Larin, and Larin always
knew it. But he'd run, taken to the stars with Vaiya and her 
Jedi friends when they had come to
bring her home, because of Mara's amnesiatic state. Then he'd 
fallen right into Cal's hand, and
while he'd remained hidden from his brother the entire time, 
he had found that the harder he ran
the worse things became for him. 
     Funny....his own flesh and blood, and Larin felt he 
barely knew the boy. He was a quiet
child, always quick to smile, with those great grey eyes that 
were sometimes too old for a child
his age. His rich brown hair always fell into those eyes, 
giving him a rather shaggy, adorable
expression. His parents had always said he would be a heart 
breaker someday. Sometimes they
wondered if Yejion hadn't sent them an angel to care for and 
love as their son. The day they had
found him, just a baby, encased in some sort of stasis block, 
and brought him home had changed
their lives. But Valery had only been half past his sixth 
year when both their parents were killed.
     He cringed. Those days were not fond memories...he let 
his rage rule him, gave himself
over to it. That was how he'd gotten invovled with Cal to 
begin with. If he had stayed with his
brother, provided for him rather than letting the boy go with 
his aunt and uncle, perhaps none of
this would have happened.
     And he never would have met Vaiya.
     Larin shook his head. No, that was the only bright spot. 
He knew that they hadn't exactly
had the most romantic courtship, but his heart knew her and 
loved her beyond human reason. It
was like they were connected, and not in some big dramatic 
sense. The bond had always been
there, even before they'd first laid eyes on each other. 
     The corridors were long and winding, but surprisingly 
clear. As if someone had made
way for him. Instantly, Larin stopped and stretched out with 
his feelings. No one was close, and
there was no sound except for the very low hum of the 
electricity flowing through the station,
giving light to the long hall.
     This had to be a trap.
     *Larin?* came a familiar voice to his mind. Larin 
jumped.
     *Valery?*
     *I'm over here--can you see me?*
     Larin focused on the direction of the send, but the 
errie quiet around him was distracting
him. He stepped forward and crouched, straining his eyes, and 
saw a faint light--no, it was more
like a sheet of light, stretched across a doorway a good 
hundred feet down the corridor. He
practically ran to it--the forcefield was weak, but it held 
steady. And behind it stood Valery, a
few years added to his youthful face, his eyes still wide and 
grey, but gentle. He smiled, pure joy
radiating from him. Larin felt a sudden urge to cry. All he 
had done, and Valery was gazing at
him as if he were one of Vaiya's angels.
     Larin found the nearby control panel and realized it 
needed a code to activate it.
Stretching out with the Force, he found where the small 
circuts that projected the beam itself
were embedded in the wall. Taking up his lightsaber, he 
reached up and sliced into the wall,
making a log cut all the way from the top of the doorway to 
the bottom. The forcefield faded
slowly, but as soon as it was gone Valery rushed out and 
hugged him.
     "Did you find her?" he asked.
     "Who?" Larin replied.
     Valery gazed up at him. "Vaiya. I met her, you know."
     "When?"
     "When I was with Grandpa Valeris." Valery gave him a 
slight frown. "Why weren't you
there?"
     Larin struggled for an answer, but could find none. 
After several seconds of silence,
Valery pulled away. A look crossed his face of pain, the sort 
of deserted lonliness that one often
sees on stray dogs left out in the rain. Then it cleared, and 
his face brightened. It was like those
eyes could see right through him.
     "It's okay, Larin," he said, his soft voice almost 
cheerful. 
     "No, it isn't." He bent down, putting his hands on 
Valery's shoulders. "I deserted you. If I
had stayed with you---"
     "Then were would we be?" Valery asked, his young face 
looking older by the second.
"No, Larin. Things happen for a reason. Yejion makes good 
come out of evil. Now, I'm going to
get to be a Jedi, and live with my sister, and my father, and 
my father's wife." There was a
dreamy look on his face now. "Mother promised me," he 
whispered.
     Larin frowned. "Val, Mother never knew where you came 
from."
     Valery shook his head. "No, not our mom. I mean my 
mother. She promised me that I
would get my family back...poor Aunt Gretta and Uncle Stan 
are probably pretty worried, but I
didn't have a choice but to leave. I called them several 
times to let them know I'm okay, but they
still want me to come home. I hope they don't fight too hard 
when Vaiya's parents come to take
me. I would hate to have to hurt them, but I have to go with 
the Skywalkers." 
     Larin shifted on his feet, confused. "Wait a minute--
when did you see your mother? She
died years ago."
     Valery smiled at him. "She comes and visits me...she was 
with me a lot after Mom and
Dad died. She talks to me, shows me things, and sometimes 
knows what is going to happen
before it does. Her name is Callista, and she has this 
pretty, thick braided hair that looks like a
silk rope down her back, and her eyes are like mine. She 
never stays for long, just long enough to
make me feel better when I'm sad. But she told me that she 
can't stay with me much longer, so I
have to find my family soon." He glanced up at Larin, who was 
staring at him strangely. "I know
that you are my family, Larin, even if we aren't blood. But I 
was meant to be a Skywalker. I just
know it."
     Then, as if a sudden light had been turned on inside of 
his face, Valery's face exploded
into a symphony of expression, going from panic to pain to 
urgency.
     "What is it?" Larin asked, grabbing the boy even though 
he made no attemt to physically
move.
     "Vaiya...we have to hurry. The bad man wants to kill 
her, and he's taken over that devil-
worshipping cult. They almost killed her before, but their 
old leader was with her."
     Larin briefly remembered Vaiya's lightsaber trick--not a 
trick, but a miracle. "Her angels
will protect her, Valery," he reassured him.
     Valery shook his head. "The angels weren't for Vaiya. 
They were for Seth. But Seth is
gone. Vaiya has to face her fear and defeat the cult, and she 
can't do it alone." The grey eyes
began to glow. "I have to help her, Larin. You have to help 
her."
     Larin shook his head in confusion. "Of course we will, 
Valery. But why wouldn't Vaiya's
angels protect her now when they were sent before?" He didn't 
know how he knew that Valery
would be able to answer his question--asking a 10 year old 
child for a theological explanation
was not something he did on a regular basis. But somehow, he 
was sure the answer was right on
the tip of Valery's tongue.
     "Because," Valery said, almost impatiently, "*we're* her 
angels, Larin! Sometimes,
Yejion makes us do things for ourselves. Now let's go!"
     And they proceeded to run.

     Vaiya hesitated outside of the doorway. There was a 
strong sense of fear, and she wasn't
sure if it was coming from her or from Cal. But she could 
feel him, as surely as he felt her. Even
with the heavy metal closing off the entrance, she could feel 
his eyes boring into her. She
swallowed, and said a quick prayer. This time, something told 
her, she would have to face Cal
alone. She was not to be a warrior, but a Jedi, a peacemaker, 
a disciple for Yejion. She was to go
into that room even if it meant her life, and if Yejion chose 
to deliver her, He would send her His
angels again, in whatever form he choose.
     The doors slid open and she stepped inside. The first 
thing that hit her senses was a low
humming sound that was distinctly vocal. She strained her 
eyes and saw the giant transparisteel
window that arched around the back of Cal's self-made throne 
was dotted with shadows, the
figures of the cult, chanting their diabolical hymns. The air 
was thick with the dark side, and
Vaiya struggled to keep the light before her as she entered. 
She briefly wished she had brought
something physical to light the way, but it seemed that she 
saw all in her mind as clearly as if the
noontime suns of Tattooine were beating down upon them. 
     As the doors slid shut behind her with a hiss, she drew 
a breath. She had been preparing
for this moment for only a short while, and her unreadiness 
was disconcerting. Cal was sitting,
silent and glaring, from his place, but there was a look of 
sadistic pleasure on his handsome
features. Not only that, but the first swirling lines of a 
red and black tattoo.
     "Well, well. People do move up in the galaxy." He leaned 
forward, grinning at her in a
nearly charming way. "Now the great Vaiya Jade Skywalker is a 
Jedi Master."     
     She shook her head. "I am what I am, and no more. And 
you, Cal...what have you
become?"
     "More powerful than you." He stood up, and the humming 
grew louder. "You know, I
have a confession to make--I didn't give these brothers 
enough credit. Without Seth blocking
them with his light, they're actually extremely powerful in 
the dark side." He shrugged. "Of
course, I already knew that. That was why I took them in all 
that time ago."
     "Yes, because you knew they would give their power to 
you." Carefully, she stepped
forward, reaching out with her senses. "And how long have you 
depended on them for your
power, Cal? Perhaps only with them using you as a focus can 
you really tap into the power of the
dark side. You've become addicted to them, haven't you?" Her 
voice was gentle, almost
sympathetic. "If you had trained in the light----"
     "I tried!" Cal's voice thundered and he glared down at 
Vaiya. She had known his face as
one not much older than her own, but what stared at her now 
was the furious, aging man
underneath it. "I tried to train. I came to your parents' 
precious academy and they rejected me
because I was too good!"
     "That wasn't why," Vaiya said softly. "They rejected you 
because you were seeking to use
the dark side of the Force, not the light. And you came to 
the academy surrounded by the dark
side. You had these men make you young again, and you 
deceived us. You deceived me." Her
voice nearly broke. She had not let herself face that 
pain...the loss of his friendship was drowned
out by the anger she felt at his betrayal. 
     Cal stared down at her. "Your mother getting angry at 
me, I can understand," he said
conversationally, his tactic switching so quickly that Vaiya 
jumped. "Your father hating me, I
can understand. But you...what did I do to you, Vaiya? We 
were friends, you and I...you know, I
actually liked you. And when you had that vision, I was only 
trying to show you the truth."
     She jerked as if he'd struck her, taking a heavy step 
back. "That was your doing?" she
rasped. "You sent me that visions of my parents killing each 
other?"
     "I sent you a vision of what should have happened, what 
could have happened. You were
too proud. You walked around like you were incapable of doing 
wrong. Like everyone should
kiss your feet because you were a Skywalker." He almost 
grinned. "The only thing endearing
about that is the fact that you get it from Mara."
     She blinked hard, tears springing to her eyes and she 
felt a horrific sense of injustice.
"You should talk about pride," she snarled, and then forced 
herself to calm down, shaking away
the tears. "Cal," she started again, calmly, carefully, "are 
you telling me that you had no intention
of bringing any harm upon me or my family when you came to 
the academy."
     He glared at her. "And what if I didn't?"
     She stepped forward again, her heart praying harder with 
every beat. She felt like
something was stuck in her throat, the way the words refused 
to come out. "Then," she finally
managed, "I am sorry for what happened."
     He snorted, but the look that followed was just the one 
she had been hoping for. A look
of consideration, not that homicidal maddess that hovered 
just beneath his smooth face. The
same look Seth had worn when  he looked at her, wanting her 
and yet terrified of what it would
mean.
     But this was Cal Saphringer. He had only desired Mara, 
and in the process had
completely destroyed any chance he would ever have of making 
peace with her. He had struck at
her family, at her home, at her own memories. There was no 
chance of Mara ever being in his
life.
     "But you could still be happy," Vaiya whispered.
     Then, Cal's face hardened, as if it had turned to stone. 
The partial face tattoo seemed to
twist and grow, and a maniacal look was in his eyes. He 
stepped forward, and swung his hand
out, snapping his fingers. The door behind her slid open 
again, but Vaiya did not look. She did
not have to. Larin and Valery entered the room, their 
astonishment at their entry rippling through
the Force.
     "Just in time, my friends," Cal said, his voice cold, 
deep, like the men behind him. Vaiya
could sense their dark powers congealing around Cal, charging 
him as if it were electricity. She
felt the urge to run, to push Larin and Valery out the door 
ahead of her and just run. But she
stayed her ground, and waited.
     "Leave her alone, Saphringer," Larin warned. 
     Cal clicked his tongue. "Come now, Larin...you know she 
hasn't suffered enough. Why
should you get to have all the fun? Besides, isn't this what 
you wanted? For Vaiya to be broken
and beaten...don't you remember?"  
     Larin shook his head, and said, "Not this time, Cal. 
Those were your desires, not mine.
I've had enough of your attempts to control me. Mark my 
words...you will never do it again."
     "Indeed," Cal sneered. "It's a real shame, Larin. You 
have so much potential in you for
the dark side. I tried to help you with that drug, but you 
still fought me. I don't know if you
realize what you could have been--the next Vader, or better 
than that, the next Palpatine! But
you're too stupid to accept it. Don't you know the power of 
the dark side? Must I prove it to you
yet again? Or must I destroy you?"
     At that moment, the five men behind him started to glow. 
The dark side presence was
nearly choking her, but Vaiya was able to watch as the blue 
energy flittered around them like a
heavy tentacle of light. Their hands were raised, stretched 
out into the center of the circle, and
from their fingertips the tentacle of light began to congeal, 
then spin and flash. Smaller beams
radiated from it, and Vaiya recognized it as a kind of Force 
lightning she had never seen before.
It was more dangerous than any she'd ever encountered. It was 
thick with the evil from Cal's
soul.
     And Cal was going to destroy Larin. He raised his hand, 
but Vaiya cried out, "Stop!" and
it made him pause long enough so she could get between them. 
"It's not him you want to kill,
Saphringer! It's me!"
     He glared at her. "You'll get your turn," he hissed.
     "Cal," she pleaded, "you don't have to do this. For your 
own sake, I'm begging you. You
can leave this place, you can come with us, I promise that 
whatever hold the dark side has on
your soul will be broken. You just have to let us help!"
     He sneered at her. "You're ridiculous, Vaiya. Why in the 
world would I want to do that?
What good are you, anyway, except for judging me and my kind? 
We have powers at our
fingertips that a God like Yejion bestows stingily on 
weaklings like you. Why would I want to be
weak? Look at you...you didn't even bring your lightsaber!"
     She shook her head. "I don't need it, Cal. I'm begging 
you for the last time, don't do this
to yourself. If you strike me down, if you kill me, you will 
never defeat me. You will only be
defeating yourself!"
     The disgust on his face was matched only by his snarl as 
the Force lightning suddenly
shot forth, surrounding her in a painful storm of dark side 
energy. She screamed, her arms flying
out to her sides, her elbows nearly embedded into her sides, 
her chest rising as if her heart were
being pulled from it, her mouth open and every muscle in her 
neck stretched and strained until
they looked ready to snap. Then Cal pulled back, and she 
crumpled, landing on her knees,
gasping for air. The pain radiated from her, and Larin tried 
to rush forth to help her, but Valery's
small arm held him back.
     "The men with the faces," he whispered. "Mother says to 
strike at the men with the
faces."
     Larin cast a fleeting glance down at Valery, and then at 
Vaiya, who had fallen onto her
side and was struggling to get back on her knees. Her cloak 
lay across her like a shroud,
spreading around her like a pool of blood. His terror for her 
life was heavy and overwhelming,
but he swallowed it back, relying on Valery's calm for his 
strength.
     He prayed. He sent his will out to Yejion, and found 
what he needed to do. Without even
thinking about it, he pulled his lightsaber from his belt and 
lit it just as Cal launched another
attack. 

     Vaiya did not scream this time, but her entire body 
convulsed. She collapsed again,
panting heavily. So this was what it had been like for her 
father, screaming and dying underneath
the blue bolts of pain. So this is what her mother had 
endured, weak as it was from Cy'Both. And
she had endured it as well, from these same cult brothers as 
they sought to capture her.
     But they had not tried to kill her. Nor did they have 
before the seething hatred of Cal
Saphringer. Perhaps Seth's feelings for her had saved her 
before--he was not here now. Perhaps
now was the end, to die in pain like this, to die in this 
graphic, bright glory, destroyed by the
dark side because it could not have her, and in effect giving 
her life to save that of Larin and
Valery.
     She glanced at them. Valery was holdin Larin back, but 
Larin grabbed his lightsaber from
his belt. And from behind Valery, she saw something else---
something bright and beautiful,
dressed in a silver-grey robe, embroidered with pearls, 
almost like the angels that had appeared
to her, but different somehow...as if the person inside it 
were not an angel, but a ghost.
     Cal struck a third time, and the figure grew brighter as 
the pain drew nearer around her. It
turned and looked at her with wide, grey eyes, her malt-brown 
hair tumbling down her shoulders
and spilling out of the hood of her cloak. 
     *Callista.*
     She did not know how she knew the woman, only that it 
was indeed her, staying close to
her son, watching over him like a guardian angel. From beside 
her, Larin shut his eyes and raised
his arm, the blade glowing a fierce white in the darkness of 
the room.
     Pulling his arm back, he released it. Vaiya was blinded 
by the lightning once again, this
time her consciousness sent into partial oblivion. She felt 
someone run to her, felt a small hand
rest on her shoulder, realizing that the sizzling sound of 
the electrical blasts had stopped, and
there was now a horrible shrieking sound.
     She raised her head, but her eyes wouldn't focus. 
Finally, she dropped to the deck in
exhaustion, her body spent.

     Larin lifted the saber in his hand. He would only have 
one chance. True, this job was
more up Vaiya's alley, considering her keen telekinetic 
powers. She could balance a dozen
lightsaber with a mere thought--he wasn't sure about his own 
skills. 
     As he raised it over his head, he was compelled to shut 
his eyes. A feeling overtook him,
the sensation that something was at his shoulder, guiding his 
arm, begging him to trust.
     He let go with his feelings, and then swung his arm 
around, the lightsaber flying from his
fingertips as lightly as if it had been caught by air sprites 
and carried to its destination. It swung
around, the heavy thrumming sound mingling into the terrified 
shriek and sickening slicing noise
as the blade found its first victim, then its second, then 
it's third, fourth, and finally fifth.
     Within seconds, Cal's power faded from him, and he 
turned to see the cult of the
destroyer as dead as any mortal, their bodies sliced in half, 
their horned faces forever wide in
astonishment, not understanding how they had been struck down 
so easily. 
     Cal shuddered. Now he was off-balance. Now he was weak, 
vulnerable. But the worst of
it was, he was afraid.
     He glanced at Vaiya, who was not moving. Had he killed 
her? He'd been trying to, but
now the thought seemed to weigh on him. He glanced back at 
Larin and watched in astonishment
as the saber returned to the man's hand.
     "It's over, Cal," Larin announced. "Whatever else you 
could do to us won't be enough
without your back-up supply of dark magic."
     Cal just stared at him, the beginnings of despair 
creeping into his mind. He had a choice
to make: either he gave in to the Jedi and they attempted to 
"save" him (the thought made him
shudder in repulsion) or he...ended the battle.
     He turned and walked toward the slain sith lords, 
expecting a storm of dark energy to
wash out of them. So many sith lords! How had he and the 
others survived the Force's backwash?
Surely it had to come---but there was nothing! Just 
cauterized bodies, the stink of ozone, the
heavy taste of death. 
     Larin stepped closer, his saber still in his palm, but 
his face more gentle. "You see?" he
whispered. "They all fall before the Power of Yejion."
     Cal looked at him, his eyes defiant and proud. With a 
sneer, he dropped to his knees.
"And I will fall, too," he bit, putting his lightsaber to his 
chest. 
     Larin jerked, surprised. Cal....commit suicide? Because 
of a little set back like this? Sure
pride would prevent him from dying at his own hand! He shook 
his head. "You know you don't
want to do that."
     Cal was panting slightly. "Then what?" he demanded, and 
shook his head, the hate
swelling in him. "You have defeated me," he hissed. "What 
should I do? Repent, as you have
done? Surrender myself into your custody?" He paused, as if 
considering his own words,and then
said, "I would rather die."
     He ignited the lightsaber, and the orange beam passed 
through him, flying out his back,
like a comet's tail. His face changed, the pride completely 
consuming him as death rushed upon
him. His eyes took one last look at Larin, who could only 
watch as he slowly crumpled, his soul
shrieking as it left the room, shrieking with the maddness of 
the dark side, with defiance, with
evil.
     Larin stood back, feeling suddenly alone. So Cal had 
chosen the dark side in the end. He
had embraced that oblivion. He had chosen himself over all 
else, and was now where he desired
to be.
     The fact that Cal had chosen it, freely and willingly, 
was what frightened him more than
anything else.

     Valery rolled the woman onto her back. Her insides were 
bleeding, her organs were in
danger of erupting, and she was in a semi-comatic state. He 
had to do something quickly.
     He had not been with his aunt and uncle for more than a 
year when he'd discovered his
uncanny ability. Once he had found a bird, flopping around 
the base of a tree, and had picked it
up. Its wing was broken, and hung beside the animal, dead and 
useless. Carefully, Valery had
lifted it, and stretching out with what he had always known 
as the Psyenergy, he was able to set
the small, delicate bone back into place. The creature's pain 
shrieked out at him, and just as
quickly he abated it. Within a few moments, both of the birds 
wings were flapping into the sky--
Valery had given the bird back his life.
     Vaiya was not a bird, but that mattered to him little. 
He had healed human wounds
before, small ones--no one he'd touched had ever been close 
to dying. He'd kept it secret from his
aunt and uncle, knowing instinctively that they would 
probably try to capitalize on his ability.
His aunt and uncle were not cruel people--they just did what 
they had to in order to survive, and
if that meant exploiting their nephew, they would do it. He 
had always had the feeling that they
weren't that fond of him, but they were responsible people 
and had treated him well enough,
keeping him fed and sheltered and clothed as the law ordered. 
His mind did not travel to them
much since he left his home to find Larin. He knew that they 
would be worried, as decent folk
are, but they knew he was alive, and perhaps they even sensed 
that he could take care of himself,
because while in their home they had never really disciplined 
him--of course, he had never given
them cause. He had been a good guest in their home. But all 
of that ended.
     This woman was the link to his future. He could already 
feel the bond between them, the
bond of blood. He touched her mind with his own, willing her 
own Jedi abilities into the healing
of her body. She stirred and turned her head, and looked at 
him, her eyes widening. Blue-green,
like the dark stones that his father had once mined, cut and 
made into a gift for his mother, the
only thing he had left of his adopted parents. He had mourned 
them, but that too seemed behind
him. All there was before him was the future.
     He touched her heart, and Vaiya took in a heavy breath 
of air as her lungs cleared. With a
few more proddings of the Force, her body's natural 
painkillers kicked in and within a few
minutes she was able to sit up.
     From behind them, badly shaken and his mind locked away 
from them, came Larin. He
gripped the white-bladed lightsaber in his hand aimlessly, as 
if he had forgotten that it was there.
But as he came near Vaiya, he shoved his disturbance away and 
reached out to her, kneeling
down and taking her hand in his own.
     "Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice raw although he 
did not know why.
     Vaiya glanced at Valery, who smiled as he reached around 
her back, his small fingers on
her shoulders. "I will be," she said, the pain blanketed 
under his healing ministrations. She could
feel her body excelerating its own healing process, the blood 
filtering out, her insides no longer
in danger of rupture, the ache in her bones subsiding. He 
worked fast for a little thing, she
thought, and smiled at him. She was upright, and was now 
working at getting her legs under her
to stand. Larin helped her, letting him lean heavily on him. 
She staggered a bit, but quickly
grabbed for Valery's shoulder, which was right beside her. 
     "Shall we get out of here?" Vaiya suggested.
     "Perhaps we should," Larin said, sparing a glance behind 
him at where Cal and the cult
lay dead. "But I have a feeling that we should destroy this 
place."
     Valery's big grey eyes went to him. Larin was shaking 
slightly--he stepped forward to
offer his services, but Larin shook his head. "I just don't 
think I could live the rest of my life
knowing that this place still exists."
     Vaiya nodded slowly. "My family isn't known for leaving 
enemy strongholds in one
piece," she said with a wry grin, glancing down at Valery. 
Then she sighed and said, "We should
at least give everyone a chance to evacuate, first." She 
stepped away from them, still unsteady,
but Larin held her back. 
     "Let me," he said. He strode over to the small control 
panel, and within a few minutes the
alarms were sounding. He glanced up, the red light reflecting 
errily on his face, the sirens as
horrible as the dying shrieks of the cult brothers. 
     Valery tugged her hand. "Let's go!" he said, and Larin 
was beside them again.
     "Can you run?" he asked her.
     "I can move fast enough," Vaiya said, but her tone was 
unsure. In reply, Larin picked her
up, his hand under her knees and around her shoulders. "I 
said I can walk!" she protested,
sounding like her mother.
     "No time to find out," he replied, sounding like her 
father. With Valery close beside
them, the scurried out of the throne room, headed for their 
ship.

     When it blew, it was strangely anti-climactic, but all 
three felt a strange sort of release,
like something very bad had died on that station, even though 
everyone left on it had been
already dead. The strength of the dark side, which had 
pressed at them from the first minute
they'd ever entered the station, diminished. Larin paced the 
window, his fingers running idly
along the thin metal sill. Vaiya lay on the only bunk in the 
small shuttle, her head turned to
watch but turning away to face the wall as Cal's great 
fortress was blown into oblivion. She
sighed, and within a few minutes she was dozing lightly. She 
would be fine in a few hours,
Valery had told him. As if nothing had ever happened--
physically. And then those grey eyes had
regarded him, saw right through him, knew that yet again 
Larin was going to leave him. It
mattered little to his childish heart that this was the only 
time he *should* have left, to think and
to pray and to heal himself. He was using every ounce of his 
power just to keep upright. The
withdrawl from the drug Cal had forced upon him, the 
emotional trauma of recent events...he
was ready to crack. He needed time. 
     Valery turned away from them and stormed out into the 
hallway, feeling
uncharacteristically angry. He stode all the way to the 
cockpit and threw himself down into one
of the chairs behind the pilot's seat. There he crossed his 
arms and sulked...but not for long. He
could feel her, beside him, then move to sit in front of him, 
her long, rope-like hair snaking over
her shoulder and falling before her, her eyes smiling at him.
     "What is wrong, my son?" she whispered.
     Valery shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," 
he said. 
     Callista smiled. "I understand. You don't have to tell 
me, you know. I can see that you're
having a hard time letting go of your own life. You're so 
very young, Valery, to be able to take
this much. You're entitled to a bit of anger."
     Valery's eyes gentled at the mention of the word. "But 
anger is of the dark side," he
whispered.
     Callista shrugged. "Yes, it is. But it is a natural, 
human emotion. You have been asked to
give up all of your old family, my son. It has been revealed 
to you that they were never yours in
the first place. Now you are going into a nest of strangers. 
You cannot help feeling anger, or
fear. But as long as you do not give into those and let them 
rule you, the dark side has no power
over you."
     Valery nodded, his eyes growing sad. "Are you going to 
leave me, too?"
     Callista smiled at him again, that loving, motherly 
smile she always gave him whenever
he questioned her coming or going. "I will always be with 
you, Valery Ben Skywalker," she
whispered. "You may not see me, but I will be there. I am not 
one of Vaiya's angels, so I cannot
remain here for long. I was sent back only for you, until you 
found your place." She reached out,
and although her spirit-like form was not solid, her fingers 
caressed his thick hair. It felt like a
soft, warm breeze to his skin. "Yejion has a special place 
for you, Valery. You have been
prepared for it since your birth. This is only a continuation 
of that preparation, not an ending or a
beginning." She looked very sad for a moment. "I wish you 
could always see me, but when we
land on Durran, I will have to leave your sight. But 
remember, my heart, that I will always be
watching you, and listening for you. No matter where you are, 
I promise that."
     Valery nodded. He wished for the first time that he 
could hug the spirit of his mother, but
had found out very early that that was not possible. Tears 
formed in his eyes, and she caressed
him again with that warm breeze.
     "Do not cry," she gently encouraged him. "Where you are 
going is a wonderful place.
You will have a father...and a mother that you can hug. And 
Mara will love you, Valery. As
surely as she loves her own daughter. She's been looking for 
you for a very long time. When you
feel their joy, all doubt will be erased from your heart."
     The words made his face brighten. "I love you, Mother," 
he whispered.
     "I love you," she replied, and then, slowly, she 
disappeared, only her eyes remaining for a
brief while longer before they, too, faded away.
     
     Vaiya carefully made her way down the ramp. It was night 
on Durran, but she knew her
parents were awake. The scanners on the shuttle had directed 
them back to the inn where her
parents were staying, and there was a great party going on--
probably some offical function, or a
service of the inn, she decided. There had been a great 
bonfire burning, which gave a great light
into the sky. They had landed a safe distance away, not 
wanting to crash the party but keeping
close enough so she could walk it.
     She was feeling remarkably good for having suffered from 
electrocution. She briefly
considered being checked out in a local medbay, but dismissed 
it as Valery came up beside her,
his arm around her waist.
     "Take it easy, Vaiya," he said, his young voice sounding 
old and wise. She smiled at him. 
     Larin followed, almost hesitant. When Vaiya reached the 
ground, he hurried up to catch
her, his hands reaching for her, pulling her close. 
     "Are you still going to be okay?" he asked anxiously. He 
didn't want to leave her. As he
looked at her, he began to doubt everything he had felt, 
began to doubt that the last several hours
had even happened. All that mattered to her at this moment 
was him.
     But somehow she had gotten that same calm look on her 
face as Valery had when they
landed, that understanding gaze that made some of his shame 
abate. She touched his cheek, her
fingers curling slighty into his hair. "I will be fine," she 
said, accenting each word gently. "Trust
me."
     Larin shook his head. "I know that," he said. He looked 
down, torn. He knew he had to
leave again...."When I come back," he said, lifting his face 
to hers, "I promise I will never leave
again."
     She shook her head. "You can't promise that, Larin. But 
I understand that you have to go.
I have to go, too. I have to go back to Yavin IV. There are 
many Jedi who need to learn what I
have learned. Until there are others who can do it better 
than me, I am obligated to teach what I
know. And you know you couldn't come with me to Yavin IV. So 
if it makes you feel any
better," she said with a serene smile, "I'm leaving you, 
too."
     He nodded. "I won't forget," he whispered, "I won't 
forget what I promised you."
     "You won't have worry about forgetting," she reassured 
him. The compassion in her eyes
reached out to him, and he realized that just being with her 
had done much to start his healing
process. But there was so much for her to do...once again, 
they were being broken apart. Before
it had led him to nothing but trouble. This time, he would 
not be so foolish. Besides, Cal was
dead...there was little danger to him now. The battle was 
over.
     Her face grew solemn, and he looked back at her, feeling 
it. "There is always danger,"
she whispered. "We are always fighting the evil in ourselves, 
our own dark sides. It doesn't
matter if you're a Jedi Knight, a Master, or just an ordinary 
human being. This battle doesn't end,
Larin. We are always fighting it. We can all fall, but we can 
get back up again." She put her arms
around his shoulders, pulling him closer. 
     "We can only fight the good fight," he whispered. "Even 
if we don't win."
     "We will win, but not on our own." She smiled. "Don't be 
afraid, Larin. Fear is useless.
Nothing can harm you if you do not give it the power. What 
you need is trust."
     He took a deep breath and nodded, then shut his eyes, 
feeling her presence beside him,
holding her close. She hugged him, getting even closer to him 
if that was possible. Her hair,
tendrils of thick, spiraling honey, brushed his cheek, and he 
ran his hand across it, caressing it.
He squeezed her hard, almost willing the two of them to fuse 
together into one body...but all too
soon it passed, and he let her go as she pulled away.
     They stared at each other for a long moment, their hands 
locked together. He leaned
forward, and his lips brushed hers, then paused, and she 
returned the kiss. They didn't know how
long it lasted...only when Valery cleared his throat did they 
break apart.
     "Soon," he promised, the only word he could say. He 
backed away, then slowly turned up
the ramp, his back to them. He knew that if he looked back, 
he would not be able to leave.
     As the ship lifted off the ground, he could feel Vaiya's 
presence inside his mind. He
could feel her love, as if it were a tangible thing. He 
sighed. It would not be long, he promised
himself. His return would come very soon.
     Inside, he felt something stirr, a soundless voice 
reassuring him that he was right, that he
should not give up, that he was doing the right thing. It 
said, *The path to true happiness is
victory over your own passions.* He remembered hearing that 
once, when he was just a boy. He
glanced out the cockpit window, but by now Vaiya and Valery 
were too far way.
     *But how soon?* he asked the soundless voice.
     *All times are soon,* the voice replied. And Larin felt 
his heart grow light.

21--Child of Skywalker

     Mara had learned, as she got older, that there were 
fewer things in this galaxy that she
could explain, much less understand. Word had gotten around 
about the possibility of Durran
opening up again to offworlders, and at this particular inn, 
they were celebrating the lifting of
the ban that had just gone through the Durranian government. 
It was experimental, they said, but
with the new order of Jedi Knights firmly rooted in Durranian 
history, they felt safe. Palpatine,
as they learned, was long since dead, and they even looked 
upon Mara and Luke in a sort of awe,
as if they were not human beings but angels in disguise.
     She had to smile at that. Angels were usually angelic. 
Vaiya's brief description of them
did not match the image she saw in the mirror. She had been 
brought new clothes by the tennants
of the inn, a welcoming gift. The place had thrown a big 
banquet, and had made a roaring
bonfire. When the strange light had appeared in the sky, they 
rejoiced in the belief that it was a
sign. Mara felt her heart stiffen at the sight, knowing it 
was the end of their battle.
     For the time being, anyway.
     She sighed and shut her eyes. She had come so far, had 
faced so much. But life was
always full of problems, difficulties, trials. She knew her 
self-confrontation would never end--it
would always be there, as long as she existed. The feeling 
that the worst was yet to come tingled
in the back of her mind, but she pushed it back. Worry was 
useless. She had learned that some
time ago. Now she was determined to practice it.
     Luke came up behind her, silently, to where she stood on 
the long, wooden balcony that
lined the back of the inn. The bonfire wasn't too far away, 
its golden light illuminating all those
around it who laughed and drank and talked. But Luke and Mara 
were safely hidden in the
shadows of the large trees that draped over the rail. She let 
him touch her mind, relishing the feel
of his comforting presence. His hands went around her waist 
and pulled her tightly to him.
Twenty years together had taught him well. He knew exactly 
how to handle her.
     "Vaiya is okay," he whispered.
     "I know," she said, her voice strangely hollow. "I felt 
it."
     Luke nodded, then slowly buried his face in her hair, 
letting his breath flow over her.
"You know, there isn't much difference," he said.
     "In what?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.
     "You now and you twenty years ago." She felt him grin. 
     "There are differences," she murmured. She glanced down 
at her hands. They had gotten
smoother with her new youth. And she felt lighter, not so 
heavily muscled from her smuggling
experiences. They had no idea how permanent the changes were, 
only that they could not be
changed back.
     "When we get home, we can put some more time into 
figuring out exactly what happened
to us," Luke said conversationally, his eyes lifting up to 
the dissipating debris of Cal's space
station. "And find out if there are going to be any 
sideaffects."
     Mara scowled slightly. Luke felt it and looked at her, 
willing her to turn and face him.
She did so, only half way, the moon light sillouetting the 
other half of her face. "It was the dark
side that did this, Luke," she said, troubled. "I don't 
understand how we could have been bathed
in that and not felt it already."
     Luke shrugged. "You know, a lot of things I've 
encountered on other worlds that most
people see as being magical, or even caused by the Force, 
turn out to simply be chemical
reactions. I'm sure the brotherhood wouldn't succeed in a 
change this radical unless it was based
in something scientific."
     Mara sighed. "I guess so. I'll have Drianna look into 
it. She loves doing that kind of
research."
     "Actually," Luke cleared his throat, "Drianna and Derrin 
are going to go to Coruscant.
They're Jedi now, Mara. They're going to help with some of 
the Durranian negotiations because
they've been here."
     Mara frowned. "What about us?"
     "We're going back to Yavin," and then he stalled, 
realizing that he was giving Mara
orders, making her decisions for her, something she couldn't 
*stand.* "Well I was hoping we
would, anyway," he added quickly. "I mean, with Vaiya."
     "If she comes back."
     Luke took Mara's face in his hands. "Mar," he whispered, 
his forehead resting against
hers, "you know she's coming back. You know she survived 
whatever Cal tried to do to her."
     Mara nodded, her hands covering Luke's. "But she's not 
just a Jedi Knight," she reminded
him. "She's a Master, with a will of her own. She may not 
want to stay on Yavin IV."
     Luke cast his eyes aside, as if looking into the 
distance behind her. "Not for long, no.
She'll have to move on. But for the time being, she's going 
to come with us."
     "How do you know?"
     "I felt it."
     "Strange that I did not." His hand dropped from her face 
to her slender neck. She
frowned, a little harder. "This de-aging thing...do you think 
it would decrease our Force
sensitivity?"
     It was Luke's turn to frown. "Are you saying you can't 
feel her at all?"
     "No...it's just....I don't know. All I'm getting in some 
kind of overwhelming saddness."
She shrugged. That had to be what was bringing her down. 
"Like Vaiya had to part with
something."
     Luke nodded. "I feel one thing, you feel another. I know 
I didn't feel any deep saddness.
Who can say who's closer to who? I know one thing, though."
     She glanced up at him, a slow smile creeping onto her 
face. His mind was playful now,
his lips beginning a grin. "What?" she whispered.
     "I'm glad I'm this close to you." 
     Her eyes brightened, and the smile crossed her face. 
"Damn you, Skywalker," she nearly
giggled. "I don't know why you're sappy, romantic farmboy 
routine always--"
     He kissed her. It made her feel young.

     Vaiya saw her parents standing close together, trying to 
melt into the shadows but unable
to hide from their own daughter. Her grip on the small hand 
in hers tightened, and she looked
down, the distant firelight catching against her eyes.
     Valery smiled up at her, silent. Neither of them dared 
to speak. This moment had been
coming for nearly twenty years, and it no words could 
possibly fit it.
     Mara was the first one to sense her, pulling slightly 
away from Luke to look over his
shoulder. Luke followed suit, and they took a step apart, but 
their hands stayed latched together.
First there was relief and pride as Vaiya approached from the 
path, her hair floating around her
reflecting the light, her steps confident, unafraid, 
embodying everything a Jedi Master should be. 
     There was a dip onto the main platform, which she took 
without hesitation. Then she
abruptly turned and reached for something following her in 
the shadows.
     It was a young boy. Nine, maybe ten. Their relief turned 
to puzzlement as Vaiya took the
boy's hand in hers, and began to lead him across to her 
parents.
     She glanced to one side, feeling the familiar presences 
of both Drianna and Derrin, who
nodded at her, respectfully silent as their eyes landed on 
the boy. They senses what this was. The
entire place had to send it. It was as if something 
cosmically important were going to happen,
some historical moment that would be the beginning of an 
entirely new age.
     Luke and Mara's puzzlement turned to confusion as Vaiya 
got closer, the boy just behind
her in step. Then, as he neared them, their eyes widened and 
Luke stepped forward, Mara put her
hands against her cheeks in astonishment, nearly reeling back 
from the shock. 
     Vaiya stopped before them, taking a breath. She looked 
down at Valery. "Valery Ben
Skywalker," she said, her eyes full of laughter, "this is our 
father, Luke Skywalker."
     The boy stepped closer to Luke, his grey eyes gigantic 
with joy. His young face was
serene and beautiful as it glowed with his emotions. Luke 
dropped to one knee and pulled him
into his arms without hesitation.
     Vaiya stole a glance at Mara. Tears of joy streaked 
heavily down her cheeks--something
she never experienced. Her face was like the stain glass 
windows of the First Temple lit by the
sun. Her eyes glowed a brighter green than had ever been seen 
by anyone--save Luke--and her
lungs forgot to breathe. The boy, Valery, looked at her, and 
gently pulled away from his father to
step to her and embrace her, which she accepted with no 
hesitation. She shut her eyes as she
hugged him tightly, the relief, the feeling of wholeness 
enveloping her. 
     Gently, she pulled him back to look into his eyes. 
Callista's eyes, Luke's delicate features,
and Leia's thick, dark hair. She found herself laughing, not 
sure why but not knowing why not.
"We've spent a long time looking for you," she managed.
     He nodded. "I know. But I'm here now."
     Then Valery turned back to Vaiya, but Vaiya was not 
watching them anymore. The other
Jedi, Derrin, had approched her, with Drianna close behind. 
Derrin's hand was on Vaiya's
shoulder, a comforting guesture, a welcoming guesture.
     "Where is Larin?" Drianna asked. 
     Vaiya smiled and turned away, her eyes going up into the 
night sky. She was thinking
about a hundred things--about Larin, about her future as a 
Jedi Master. She was thinking of how
blessed she had been, that Yejion had made her so victorious 
in spite of her weakness, had even
sent her His own angels to aid her. She even thought about 
Seth, and had to push away the
pressing mystery of how their lives had touched the way they 
did, how maybe if things had been
different...but he, too, had had to leave.
     One dark shadow fell over her heart. She felt very much 
alone. Larin was not gone for
good, but he was not here now. Without him, she felt empty, 
and it disturbed her. She had so
much--why should just one person matter so much?
     Valery stepped forward and threw his arms around her 
waist. She jumped and looked
down at him startled. He grinned up at her.
     "You've got me," he said.
     She began to smile, and then laugh. "Yes," she said, 
brushing his hair back from his face.
"I do." And she found that she knew the answer to her own 
question. Even though they were not
blood, Vaiya could see Larin in Valery's eyes. They were 
bound together--their destinies were
entwined. One way or another, she would see him again. 
     There was nothing else to do but live one day at a 
time....and wait.

22--One Year Later

     The hot jungle of Yavin had never been Mara's favorite 
place. She was a city girl. She
had lived her entire life in Coruscant, and she had liked all 
the luxuries that provided. But out
here, Valery seemed to thrive and grow, his strengths opening 
up as the life around him hummed
and droned from the jungle. Valery liked it--in fact, he 
loved it. He seemed to have a passion for
tramping the jungle trails, looking for animals, usually 
finding them, especially the ones that
were injured. They never tried to bite him. It was as if they 
knew him, and he treated them as
carefully as if they were every bit a human as he. 
     The Skywalkers had discovered quickly his ability to 
heal--even without Vaiya's tale,
they would have seen it right away. Even the other Jedi 
apprentices came to him with physical
ailments, and usually it was Mara who had to chase them away. 
The boy would give until he
dropped, and they needed to learn self-reliance. And some 
pain endurance.
     Mara watched Valery practicing his telekinetic abilities 
on some nearby rocks. Nearby,
Vaiya sat and watched. While she was not his teacher, she was 
more skilled in her telekinetic
abilities than most. Luke and Mara had agreed that Mara would 
be Valery's official teacher, but
that he would learn what he needed to when he needed to learn 
it. Luke worked on Valery's
mental abilities, and tried to hone his senses to feel out 
situations, gain insight from the Force.
Mara took a more spiritual responsibility for him, teaching 
him to walk, talk, and act like a Jedi
Knight. Irony was heavy in the air around their home. She 
found herself saying many things to
him that Luke had said to her so long ago and had nearly 
driven her nuts with repeated saying. 
     The rocks dropped, the loud heavy thuds sounding like 
giant raindrops on the soft ground
of Yavin IV. Valery was panting, and he looked at Vaiya.
     "Okay, ten minutes," he said. "Now can I?"
     Vaiya nodded. "Just don't cut your head off!" she warned 
as he raced off. 
     Mara grinned. Valery was coming up the stairway toward 
her, into their home. He smiled
at Mara. "Vaiya said I could try Mother's lightsaber," he 
said. 
     Mara nodded. "Just be careful," she warned.
     Vaiya stood up from where she was on the ground, and 
quickly looked around her. Then
she glanced up at Mara. "Watch him for a minute, will you? I 
think I left my cape and saber out
with Derrin this morning."
     Mara grinned. "Your saber, too? Now that's fine behavior 
for a Jedi Master."
     Vaiya gave her mother a slightly scathing look, but it 
was amused. She scampered off
through the trees, then out the other side into the wide 
field where Derrin had taken his class. He
hated teaching in the enclosed temple--he had to be outside, 
where it was open. And they always
picked the best spot--right where the ships from the port 
could be seen coming and going.
     "Mom?" Mara turned to see Valery holding Callista's 
lightsaber in both hands. He was
eleven years old now, but he still had the smallest hands. 
Probably from Skywalker's side, Mara
thought. She smiled and bent down.
     "Do you know how to activate it safely?" she asked.
     He nodded, and then his young face grew wary as he 
looked at her. "It just feels funny,"
he said.
     "What does?" A small alarm went off in the back of 
Mara's head. "The lightsaber? Let me
see--"
     "No," the boy shook his head. Mara watched him closely, 
feeling his emotions. He was
probing her mind, searching for something, some sort of 
reassurance. She sent him her love--she
could not have loved him more if he had been her own son.
     "Then what?" she whispered.
     He shrugged. "Actually, it doesn't feel funny. That's 
what feels funny." He giggled at the
paradox. 
     Mara frowned slightly, an amused grin rising to her 
lips. Sometimes the boy was just like
his father---"What?" she asked again.
     "Calling you Mom." He shook his head. "I can't remember 
when I called you anything
else. Isn't that funny?"
     Mara smiled, stroking his hair. "I can't remember it, 
either," she said reassuringly. "And I
don't want to."
     Valery smiled at her, his boyish smile that had probably 
come from his mother. He
lowered the lightsaber and carefully aimed it away from them. 
Under Mara's watchful eye, he
activated it, and the bright yellow beam lit up the room like 
the rising sun.

     Vaiya reached the place where Derrin had taken his small 
band of students. He felt her as
she approached and turned, greeting her with his old grin--
the one that had once made her heart
flutter. She found she liked Derrin better now that she 
wasn't infatuated with him, but it mattered
to her very little what he thought of her in return. 
     "Master Vaiya," he said, giving a slightly, respectful 
vow. "Perhaps you could help us.
We seem to be having a bit of a problem."
     "What is it?" she asked, picking up her lightsaber, 
which sat a few feet away from the
group, and latching it onto her belt. 
     "Master Vaiya," one of the female students began, "we 
don't understand why emotions
are so bad. Fear and anger are natural. The Force comes from 
nature. We can't help but
experience them!"
     Vaiya smiled. "What goes into us cannot ever harm us," 
she began, "even fear and anger.
We see them, we acknowledge them, and then we dismiss them. 
You are right, they are not evil
emotions, and as sentient beings we have them. But what comes 
out of us, that is what can harm
us. If we act in fear or anger, then they become dangerous. 
They take the focus away from where
it should be and onto ourselves and our own ends, which might 
not be evil but are tainted with
our human imperfection. This leaves us open to be controlled 
by others, because we have
harmed ourselves and made our wills weak with self-indulgence 
and pride. Remember this--as
long as you are alive, as long as you are still breathing, 
never let anyone control you. No one has
any power over you unless you give it to them. Listen only to 
God. Do not listen even to
yourselves."
     "But what god?" another student demanded. "And if we 
can't trust ourselves, then who
can we trust?"
     "As for your first question," Vaiya returned calmly, 
"there has been much debate over
this new view of the Force, and I do not claim to be able to 
understand all aspects of it. I know
that there is only one God, but He has many names. Every 
culture knows Him, as He has made
the world and all in it, most especially the Force. You must 
search for Him, or Her, or whatever
is in your culture. I promise you, it is there. The Jedi have 
managed to survive because they
remembered the Will of the Force, which merely God's Will 
detatched from its source. They
hung fast to the creed of putting selflessness over 
selfishness, and it was only by this that they
endured for as long. But without a center, without the right 
focus, they grew arrogant and fell.
We are the new order. We have to be examples. At the very 
least, if we wish to serve the galaxy,
we must understand it. Every culture believes in a God of 
some sort. And what better way is
there to understand sentient beings than knowing what they 
believe in? Religion is the answer to
life, it's what gives it meaning. But I promise that if you 
search with an open heart, you will find
what you are looking for."
     She took a deep breath and added, "All that is needed 
for salvation is a willing and
repentant heart. All else is done for us."
     Derrin stared at her for a moment. "Where did that come 
from?" he asked softly.
     Vaiya shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt the need to 
say it." 
     Derrin smiled at her as he bent over to pick up her 
cloak. "So sayeth the prophet Vaiya,"
he said in a low voice. He glanced at his students, who were 
silently muddling over Vaiya's
words. He pulled the cloak open to set it on her shoulders.
     Abruptly, Vaiya's face fell from the gentle amusement to 
surprise. She turned around,
and Derrin froze in his motion, holding out the cloak before 
him with both hands stopped in mid
air. There was a ship landing on the dock. It was a small 
ship, and it landed close to the edge.
The lone occupant appeared in seconds, a familiar head of 
thick, brownish-blond curls billowing
in the heavy jungle breeze. 
     Vaiya took three steps forward, and then broke into a 
dead run.

     Luke came out of his study, feeling the disturbance in 
the Force. Mara and Valery were at
the window, watching calmly. Mara turned her head to look at 
Luke. "Our son in law is back,"
she said, guesturing for Luke to join them. He did, his arm 
going around Mara's shoulder.
     "Can you feel it?" she whispered.
     Luke nodded. It was a tangible sensation, rolling across 
the wide clearing of the jungle,
nearly a shout in their ears. Vaiya's joy radiated from her, 
as far away as she was. Her hair blew
behind her like a comet tail, her feet barely touching the 
ground.
     The figure she was running for was struggling to get 
down from the landing bay. A long
set of winding stairs etched into the low mountainside would 
have made his journey faster if
there hadn't been people on it getting in his way. He finally 
tired of the slow pace and lept over
the rail, his feet sliding a bit on the gravelly rock as his 
hood came up and covered his head
again. Then he lept his way down the hill, his arms spread 
out to give him balance. His hood fell
away again, and Mara and Luke realized that it was not just 
Vaiya's joy that they were feeling.
Not even her powers could affect the entire academy. It 
seemed that everything froze around that
moment, and finally, Vaiya reached him.
     The force of impact was so great that he had to lift her 
up slightly, but he held her close,
not letting her go, catching them both with the Force. Long 
seconds passed as they felt each
others presence, knowing that the last year had finally 
ended, and that the rest of their lives had
begun.
     Vaiya pulled away first. He smiled at her, his face 
never seeming so beautiful. She
beamed back. 
     "Welcome home, my love," she whispered.
     "I thought I'd never get here," he sighed. Then he 
paused. "So when are you going to
marry me?"
     If it was possible, her smile widened
     "Whenever you say."
     He paused, and then his face changed as if he'd just 
remembered something. "But...how
can you marry me? I don't have anything to give you. I don't 
even have my last name."
     She looked at him very solemnly, and whispered, "Then 
I'll give you mine."

     The wedding took place within a few months at the First 
Temple. It was the first time a
big assembly had been invited to the planet, and the 
Durranians used the opportunity to
strengthen their desire to become a part of the New Republic. 
They even footed the bill, and
Luke and Mara had to take special care in inviting the right 
delegates--then Mara, who usually
sneered at the idea of impressing people, passed the job onto 
Leia. In spite of her heavy duties,
the former Princess took the burden happily.
     The hall was full. Luke stood not too far away from the 
door to Vaiya's changing room.
He was dressed in a midnight blue suit made of the thin 
Durranian velvet, the style similiar to
the old white Jedi tunics that Obi-Wan had worn. Mara slipped 
out the door and approached
him, wearing a sleeveless dress made of teal green material, 
with velvet patterns embossed on it. 
     "Makes we want to do this all over again," he sighed as 
he took her hand.
     "Just hold on, Farmboy," she said with a wink. "You 
know, we never did finish that
honeymoon, either."
     He grinned at her, remembering. "That was a crazy night, 
wasn't it?"
     She nodded. "But we managed to get the best part before 
it ended." She kissed him
lightly. "See you at the altar." And she strode away, the 
floor-length skirt of the dress swishing
around her legs.
     Luke watched her go--it helped that the back of the 
dress was cut low to hang at her
waist. She threw him a glance of pure mischief and then 
focused her attention on the people
around her who greeted her from their seats. He sighed and 
shook his head. Thank God Mara
would never change--young or old, it didn't matter. She was 
still Mara.
     The door opened again, and Luke was taken back by a new 
vision. Vaiya appeared,
dressed in glimmering fabric that looked like liquid gold. 
Her arms and shoulders were covered
with a layer of tiny golden feathers, and the feathers spread 
down her back, getting larger as they
descended into a great train that stretched out a few feet 
behind her. The rest of the dress was a
soft white, gathering modestly at her chest and flowing down 
her legs in heavy folds of satin
embossed with a pattern of more miniature feathers and pearls 
set in gold.
     "You don't think it's too much, do you?" she asked, 
raising an eyebrow. 
     "It's beautiful," Luke murmured. "But it looks heavy."
     "It isn't, really. Gold is actually pretty light." She 
shifted. "It feels really comfortable,
actually, but I'm afraid that it's a bit....flashy."
     Luke smiled at her. "You look beautiful." He pushed a 
thin tendril of her hair back into
the crown she wore on her head, a wreath of the same golden 
leaves, studded with small
irridescent gems that caught the light. Her hair spilled 
around the crown to fall against her
shoulders. The side tendrils had been woven into ornate 
braids and had been tied off with a few
pearls and golden beads.
     She sighed, relief flooding her face. "I feel 
beautiful," she said softly.
     "You are beautiful." Luke felt himself fighting the 
sudden impulse to cry. This was his
little girl--little no longer, ready to leave him and start 
her own life. Even though she had grown
up a long time ago, even left them and found her own path, he 
still felt like he was loosing her
all over again.
     She touched his arm. "Come on, Daddy," she said. "The 
party is starting. We can't be
late."
     "Don't worry about it," he said, taking her arm in his. 
"They won't start until we get there,
anyway."

     He led her down the aisle and gave her hand over to 
Larin, who was dressed in a fine
linen suit, covered with a thick grey robe of velvet that was 
embroidered with the same pearls
and golden leaf as Vaiya's around the sleeves and shoulders. 
They barely looked around them as
they spoke their vows and the ceremony commensed. When they 
kissed, Luke felt Mara's hand
reach for his own. He looked at her, and she smiled with 
sympathy.
     *My little girl is not a Skywalker anymore,* he sent to 
her.     
     Then, distinctly, he felt Vaiya reply as she and Larin 
turned to head back down the aisle,
*I'll always be a  Skywalker,* and smiled at them as she 
strode away, Larin's hand in her own.
     Mara stood up and put her arms around Luke's neck. "Was 
there ever any doubt?" she
whispered.
     Luke gave a short chuckle and glanced down at Valery, 
who was chasing after the happy
couple. "I guess not. Once a Skywalker...always a Skywalker."

     She had left him. Now he was alone. He had been alone 
for some time, but he was
feeling it more intensely now than before. Like something had 
happened to her, like she had
done something to irrevocably cut herself off from him. But 
he knew...she loved another. How
much she loved him, only she knew. What she felt for himself, 
only she knew. All he knew was
his own emotions.
     They made no sense to him.
     His small craft had landed on the desert floor in the 
middle of the great desert. From
where he stood at the top of the landing ramp, with his 
binoculars he could see the very tip of the
great temple. He had not looked upon it in some time.
     What was he doing here?
     He shook his head silently as he lowered the binoculars, 
and made his way down the
ramp. This felt familiar, yet somehow was different--his red 
and black face had lost its sharp
edges. The fierceness of the mask was gone, drained from him. 
Maybe that was from his listless
wanderings around the outer rim, or maybe it was his loss 
weighing heavily upon him. His eyes
were not even the bright yellow-green anymore. They had 
darkened, slowly at first, then
deepened into a rich shade of green. The change might have 
alarmed him otherwise, but in his
current state, he merely accepted it as inevitable.
     The cult was dead. He had felt them die, one at a time. 
Even now, their death shrieks
were faint echoes in the back of his mind. He learned to 
ignore them, knowing they would go
away. A year did not seem so long now. It felt like only 
yesterday he had been freed. Or
abandoned. He could take his pick.
     But something pulled him here. Not the fact that she 
would be here soon--he didn't know
why he knew that, he just did. Here to make a home for 
herself, to have a husband, to have his
children and be a teacher, as she was meant to be. It had 
nothing to do with her, and at the same
time, everything. She had shown him hope. For a long time, he 
had thought her to be his hope,
but now he had a suspicion that she had only been a shadow of 
that hope. There was something
bigger, something greater awaiting him. As abandoned as he 
might be now, there was a path for
him to follow.
     He just had to find it.
     The desert sands shifted under his heavy black-booted 
feet as he walked. He wasn't sure
what direction he was going in--he let his instincts guide 
him. Soon, he came to what looked like
a giant stone, sticking up out of the desert floor. It was 
like a lop-sided pyramid, and there was a
low door at its base. He pressed at the door, but it didn't 
budge. He felt at the sides, but there was
no control. He backed up, examining it closely. The last rays 
of the day were quickly slipping
into the horizon, and his vision was distorted by the tricks 
the phantom light was playing on his
eyes.
     Then he heard a sound.
     He turned to see someone come around the corner of the 
giant stone, wrapped in a thick
brown robe. The figure stopped and lifted his head. Green 
eyes met his, a different shade--like
emeralds, sharp and bright. A closer inspection told him that 
the man was rather old, but in good
shape. Hairless and wrinkled, but well-built and quite able 
to move. The old man approached
him with caution.
     "Who are you?" he asked, his voice just a touch sharp. 
His reply was a flinch from his
strange guest. His cloak hid his face, aided by the evening 
shadows. But once the old man saw it,
he would surely reject him. 
     "My name is Seth," he said.
     The old man nodded. "Darth Seth?" he said, a lilting 
sound at the end giving the
statement the feel of a question.
     "I was Darth Seth. Now I am just Seth."
     "And what are you?"
     "I don't know." He raised his head, and showed the old 
man part of his face, the red and
black marking shifting on his skin as he willed them back, as 
he willed the old man to see him as
Vaiya had seen him, without the mask. 
     The old man nodded. "That's what I like to hear. Come on 
inside." He shuffled to the
door, and it slid open with barely any effort on his part. 
"Watch out...it's a bit of a drop." And he
hunched down and slid into the darkness.
     Seth followed, easily catching himself on the stone 
floor fifteen feet below the surface of
the sand. He looked around, his eyes straining to adjust but 
failing. There was something about
this place, something that knew him. Something that made him 
feel excited and humble and
terrified and joyful all at once. Then the old man lit a 
torch and got a full look at his visitor.
     "Uh huh," he grunted, and Seth swore he saw a look of 
approval on the man's face.
Perhaps this man did see him as Vaiya did. Then the old man 
smiled. "My name is Valeris. I
think I've been expecting you."


Epilogue--Holocron

     It was well past the midnight hour, and the hologram had 
grown bright in the darkening
shadows. Callista felt stiff all over from being hunched over 
it, and as she tried to move, Dayved
reached out to her and began to massage her shoulders.
     Although the figure was just a hologram, they could not 
image the real Vaiya Jade
Skywalker being any more real as her shoulders slumped, as if 
she were exhausted from telling
her tale. She looked up at the young Jedi students and 
smiled.
     "So it ends," she said. "And it begins again."
     "There's more?" Callista ventured. She wanted to hear, 
but she had been listening to this
thing all day. She was tired and hungry and wanted to go 
home. She glanced at Dayved, feeling
very tender emotions for him as he gazed down at her. The 
story had awoken some things in
him, and the fact that they were true made the whole tale 
even more bittersweet.
     "There is always more," the hologram of Vaiya said. 
"There is a whole lifetime of more.
But this tale ends here. And my father has not yet had a 
chance to speak to you."
     She disappeared, and in a split second a fourth image 
appeared. This one was dressed in
a gray Jedi robe, hood up over his eyes, which even in the 
downsized image of the holocron they
could see were a familiar blue.
     "Greetings, Jedi-to-be," he said, pushing the hood back. 
"I am Luke Skywalker, Jedi
Master and father to Master Vaiya."
     They felt the terrible impulse to kneel. "Master 
Skywalker," Dayved managed over his
dried throat. 
     The image nodded. "I come bearing one message. The 
Skywalkers have always faced
great trials, and have been known throughout history to fall 
to the dark side. When I was a young
man and training to become a Jedi, my Master told me that 
once you started down the dark side,
it would dominate your destiny forever. This is true, but it 
is not hopeless. We have risen up
again and defeated the dark side because we have hung fast to 
one unchanging truth--the only
power anything has over you is what you give it--for good or 
evil."
     He paused, and the two listeners stared at him. "But 
Master Skywalker, what does this
mean?" Callista ventured.
     Luke Skywalker smiled. "It means that there is no 
destiny except the one you choose.
And you are always free to choose. But only when you give 
yourself to the right path, the path of
light, or the path of Yejion, which my daughter chose for us, 
do you become truly powerful.
Only in becoming weak do you become strong, only in 
sacrificing yourself do you find ourself."
     "He sounds like the priests," Dayved muttered.
     The image smiled. "Perhaps I do. I thought that Vaiya 
would be the teacher, but the
burden fell to me. And I will teach you things about the 
Force, things you may never have
learned. The wheel is always turning, the pendelum of the 
Force is always in swing. It will come
back around again."
     With that, he faded. Callista and Dayved exchanged 
glances, their energy levels suddenly
high. But with a firm squeeze on Vaiya's shoulder, Dayved 
took the holocron from her.
     "Tomorrow," he said. "There is always tomorrow."
     She nodded. There would always be tomorrow.
     And so it went on.

     END.

A great big THANK YOU!!!! to Chris, who runs the LMS website
(http://members.tripod.com/~LMS_/index.htm) and being the 
first to post my (not-so-humble)
fanfic. Thank you to everyone who wrote to me while I was 
writing this and expressing interest,
it helped me finish it! Hooray! Another finished fanfic on 
the web! :)

Okay---I've got a sequel cooking up here, but it hasn't 
gotten past the drawing board. There is
still so much to do, plus I got a big dose of Episode One 
fever that I'm dying to do something
with (of course, I got it right before I started this story, 
so you can already see it). So who should
I kill off? I've got too many characters. Plus you all KNOW 
that this Vaiya and Seth thing is just
not over. AND I'm dying to do something with the real Maul. 
Or maybe a clone
Maul....something with Maul, whoever he really is. And how 
many of you suspect that Palpatine
is really Mara's father? I mean, it just *works* for me. So 
let me know what you think. I will try
to post a teaser or something about it soon. Maybe even a 
little preview of the story--I love those.
If you're interested, let me know! :)