DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc, 20th Century Fox, Timothy Zahn, Barbara Hambly, YKW and the other writers of the expanded Star Wars Universe. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
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.