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Star Wars: Eclipse (TheCorsair and Xana)

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Quentin! She cried out through their bond, feeling her body grow rigid as his pleasure burst in her mind and Sheila’s body. Not reaching her climax, whatever number this was, would have been more difficult, with the conbined bliss and Quentin and Sheila’s climax weighing on her.

“So, how was it?” Sheila asked, nuzzling the happy, exhausted couple

“Amazing. Utterly amazing.” Kaydia admitting, planting a lazy kiss on their gracious hostess’ lips.

“And what do you what now?”

Kaydia laughed, a tired, relaxed laughed, before turning her gaze to Quentin, “There isn’t in the galaxy I want more now than to rest in my beloved’s arms.”


After somehow managing to both shower together, and not succumb to another bout of passion, Kaydia fell into a blissful slumber against Quentin’s chest. The pleasure of the evening seemed to follow her into her dreams.

On her hands and knees, Kaydia wasn’t sure who was fucking her. She wasn’t sure, and didn’t care to find out, choosing to lose herself in the pleasure. His stroke drove into her core, his entire length parting her each time their hips met.

You like this, don’t you?

Yes, she agreed, confessed, meeting his motions with her own. Taking all of him as he took all of her, as he made her take all of him.

You love getting used by me, don’t you?

She couldn’t identify the voice, but it was familiar. The movement within her was familiar. Someone she had been with many times. Quentin perhaps? His hand reach underneath her, teasing her clit, tugging on her clit ring in time with his thrusts.

Are you going to cum for me? Are you close?

Her walls trembled around his meat, the pain and pleasure driving her wild beneath him. Driving her mad, driving her to chase her climax. Fuck, I am so close.

Ah, ah! Not yet, he teased, no longer tugging on her clit ring. Still, she moved against him, body working against her mind to find release. Soon, there was something warm near her upper back, growing warmer as he continued to pound her. Hotter now, nearly burning, and still very familiar. Then, just as her body clenched and gripped his cock, preventing him from fucking her any further, she felt the burning sting of a light saber, pressing into her shoulder blade.

Kaydia awoke with a shriek, pushing Quentin off of her and the bed with terrified strength. She threw herself back, backing in the wall, eyes wildly scanning the room for threats or dangers. Green light filled the space, illuminating the darkness, casting unsightly shadows in all directions. She hadn’t realized she had called her saber to her hand and ignited it until she was aware of her sweaty palms losing grip on it.
 
Quentin tumbled from the bed in a shock, confused dreams of pleasure and pain mingling with the confusion of sudden wakefulness. There was the snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting, and reflex took over as his conscious mind struggled to work out where he was and what was going on. The Force brought his own lightsaber to his hand and he ignited it as he rose, dropping into an unorthodox fighting stance as the last dregs of sleep slowly melted away. There was nothing in the room, nothing but himself and Kaydia and flickering, jumping shadows cast by the emerald light of her blade and the white light of his own. Then, with a gasp, she dropped her saber.

"Kaydia!" he called, shutting down his own lightsaber as he lept over the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Shh... Kaydia." He stroked her tangled red hair, holding her tight and trying to comfort her. "It was a nightmare, that's all. A nightmare. He's far from here. You're safe, love. You're safe." Her arms locked around his back as she shook, and he could feel the turmoil in her mind. "You're safe, Kaydia. You're here with me, on Zeltros. You're safe."

The door to the suite opened. Mith'ras stood there, naked with a heavy blaster gripped in one furred hand, scanning the room. "Are you both all right?" he asked, glancing over them before peering into the shadows. "The house alerted me that weapons were activated..."

"I... I think so," Quentin said. "I mean, we're not in danger or under any immediate threat." He stroked Kaydia's hair again.

Mith'ras, aware of some of Kaydia's past, nodded. "Flashbacks?"

Quentin nodded, not trusting his own voice.

"I can have the house medical systems prescribe something, if you wish," the Cathar offered. "Take the edge off the dreams, so you can get some rest."
 
Nothing in the moment sounded better than Inertia, some numbness to block out the horror, but she shook her head. “No I…I don’t do well with drugs,” She explained, her voice still shaky, hoarse. Still breathing hard, she found it harder to calm down from this one. Harder to calm down each time, harder to move past her past. Damn, she could still feel her singe on her shoulder, burnt into her flesh for a sadist’s amusement. There were no new marks, no injuries, nothing but memories, but it all still felt so real on her skin.

Mithras just nodded, putting the blaster down and relaxing his stance somewhat, “Well, if you change your mind, you can reach me over the intercom. Mistress Golb insists.”

“Thank you, Mithras,” She murmured, still clinging to Quentin, still working through her trauma. He left and at that moment. her façade of strength cracked, as she sobbed into her fiancé’s bare shoulder. “I felt him inside me, just like he had been… And then, the saber-” Her voice dissolved into a shuddered wail, fingers digging into his back. Quentin repeated the mantra a few more times, a rhythmic meter that encouraged her to even out her breathing. She was wiping her eyes in irritation as he led her back to the bed.

“I’m getting worse, Quentin. Why is this happening? I should be getting better, but I’m getting worse. What’s wrong with me?” Tears came up again, frustration this time. “I don’t what else to do, I need help.”
 
Quentin held her as she poured out her nightmares and her fears, hating the man who had done this to her and his own helplessness. The knowledge that he'd failed her, believed her dead and left her to the 'mercies' of the Sith Lord just made it worse. Emotion, yet peace, he reminded himself, even as the hate clutched at his heart. "You're safr, Kaydia," he repeated.

Her despair about getting worse twigged a thought, though. "I..." he hesitated, trying to frame a half-formed memory. "I told you, once, that I was raised among the Dai Bendu. That was... partly true. Master Valis woukd take me there, to their monastary on Tali, for a month after each mission. He believed their Order to predate even the founding of the Jedi, and used their teachings to supplement his instruction."

Gently he led her back to the bed, sitting on the edge and looking at her. "One of the things they taught was that dreams were a way for us to communicate with the living Force. Dreams carried glimpses if the past and future, what was or would have been, or could be or will be." He smiled at the memory. "All at once, usually. The Dai Bendu believe we live in multiple worlds simultaneously and embrace all our possible lives, even if we choose to focus on only one at a time."

Shifting a little, he sat cross-legged on the bed and held his hands out towards Kaydia. "Maybe, if we meditate, we can learn what it is the Force is trying to tell you thriugh these dreams. And maybe together, the visions won't be so terribke."
 
Kaydia matched his pose, pressing her palms against his. Eyes closed as she blocked out all other sensations, attuning herself to the force. She could feel her fiancé’s presence in the force as she shed all other awareness, letting herself sink into the overwhelming immensity of the force. Sense of self slipped away, letting the pathways of the force direct her.

There was a bedroom. She recalled it, her cell where Linora kept her, while she degraded her, tore down her very being, until she could be reshaped into Linora’s obedient pet. She could feel the abuse on her body, burns and bruises and cuts. An ache between her thighs, from recent and frequent rapes. Her drugs were wearing off, and there was no hiding from what had happened to her.

The doorknob turned, and her eyes were glued to it, heart racing as she considered who was behind it. Fears that were fulfilled as Aldane stepped in, smiling that menacing smile. There was no hiding her fear, scooting into the corner, as far away she could get. He let her feel how much he enjoyed her response, sitting beside her on the bed, eyes drinking in her shudders and distress.

“Just let me in,” he purred, caressing her arm, fingers tracing over healed scars as she flinched from his touch. “I promise, it gets so much easier once you give in. Embrace it, your hatred, your pain, your terror. Embrace your pain, until it becomes pleasure. Once you accept who you are now, who you are meant to be, it will all be so much easier, so much better. All you have to do is let me in.”

“No…” she spoke, her voice small, weak, and yet defiant. The Baronet shrugged, before turning away from her.

“Then how shall we begin, today?” He asked, opening the chest in the room. He pulled out the knives, placing them on the bedside table, each gleaming edge freshly sharpened. And beside the knives were the needles, and a barbed whip, and his saber.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed, curling into herself, one small act of rebellion in the face of what he intended to inflict upon her.

“I’ve told you Linora. You will grow and nurture the seeds of our empire, and birth to our glorious legacy. You will be the mother of the modern Sith, am empress once our offspring dismantle and subjugate the galaxy. Power, Linora, true power, beyond anything you know or can imagine. All you have to do is let me in. Let conception take place.”

With a gasp Kaydia was back in the present, back in the bedroom with Quentin, back on Zeltros and in her own mind. Her heart was pounding, the realization she arrived at even more harrowing that she could have believed. It wasn’t flashbacks, or memories. Visions, of Linora’s torment, desperate messages pleading for some aid, from the two people who had the most, and the least reason to help her.

“He’s…torturing her…” She whispered, making sense of what she had seen, what she had felt. The words weren’t necessary, Quentin would have felt it, seen it as well. She was shaken, uneasy. There was no reason for Kaydia to intervene, no good reason to save Linora from the same torment she gleefully inflicted on Kaydia. No good reason to help Linora from the sadist she chose to take into her bed. And yet, If nothing else, Linora had stepped in for her, preventing Aldane from inflicting his darkest desires upon her. Now, though, there was nothing to stop him from doing all of those things to Linora, nothing to stop him from utterly destroying everything that Linora was.

“We…we have to stop him.”
 
It took Quentin several minutes to make sense of the vision. At first it seemed entirely abstract, impressions of pain and fear and self-loathing that he couldn't make heads nor tails of. Was he experiencing Kaydia's nightmares again..?

Then a sliver of light fell across a cowering dark-haired figure, chained to a wall like an animal. A figure covered with bruises and scabs and scars, her right arm giving way to a severed prosthetic stump about midway down the upper arm.

"Linora," he breathed, horrified. And then his blood ran cold as he saw the figure in the doorway. As he heard the Sith Lord calmly describe his intentions, as if what he were doing was perfectly reasonable. It was a mercy when Kaydia moved her hands, breaking their contact and ending the vision.

"He's torturing her," she whispered, hugging herself. Quentin could hear her unvoiced thought - just like he tortured me - and struggled to keep his own thoughts silent. Because he'd delved deep into the restricted archives in the Jedi temples, and he recognized the forms of the Sith ritual the Baronet was conducting.

Breaking Lenora's will and obtaining 'consent' for impregnation was just the first step. Once she conceived, she'd be subjected to alchemical infusions to alter her genetic structure and that of the child, and exposed directly to the howling fury of the Dark Side. All in an effort to create the Sith messiah, the Vahdair, the Dark Side given flesh.

"We have to stop him," Kaydia said, shivering.

Quentin nodded, taking her hands once more. "We do," he agreed. "And we need to save her. No matter what she's done, nobody deserves to suffer like that." He swallowed, thinking of the hollow shell that the mother of the Vahdair would become. Broken, dead inside, meekly obedient.

He hesitated, remembering the vision. "Ziost," he breathed, knowing without knowing why he knew. Knowing through the Force, and recognizing it from his studies. "He's on Ziost."
 
Quentin was holding something back from her, and that knowledge hurt. He knew nearly every part of her mind, all of her darkest secrets and memories. She had thought there were beyond secrets and lies, building a relationship of perfect trust and openness between them. Except…no, he wasn’t hiding this from her. He was hiding this from himself, his knowledge at odds with who he was.

She didn’t prod, just squeezed his hands as the emotions evoked from the vision begun to fade away. “No, I agree. Besides, if we can find them, this might be our best chance at finally eliminating that bastard.” She swallowed hard at the word, recognizing her own feeling coming up now, muddying the issue. “Any idea where to start looking?”

"Ziost," he breathed, the part of his mind that knew concealed from her, "He's on Ziost."

She just nodded, and pulled Quentin into a hug, needing his warmth to chasing away the bitter coldness of Aldane’s touch. After a few deep, calming breaths, she pulled away, looking deep into her fiancé’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

“You’re leaving now? But, the wedding…” Sheila pouted, as Quentin and Kaydia ate a quick breakfast.

“We got a lead on Baronet Aldane ha-Florindel Sergovia Organa-Nahal. And if you were serious about your bounty, and seeing him dead, then the fact of the matter is, Quentin and I are the best people for the job. Together, we have defeated him twice. This time, there won’t be any mistakes, or mercy.” She glanced over at Quentin at that, a coldness in her eyes, a determination that wouldn’t be swayed.

Sheila chewed her lip and nodded, “Okay, if that is what you need to feel safe. How can I help?”

“Well, since The Scrapper is still being repaired, we will need a ship.”

“I have just the thing.” Sheila intoned, pleased with herself.



An hour later they strapped into pristine A-24 Sleuth, a new design from the Incom corporation. “It’s supposed to fast, and hard to track, so it should get you where you need to be before that bastard can realize it,” Sheila explained, seeing them off. Her expression soften a bit as she met their eyes, “You two stay safe, okay?”

“We promise to return your ship in good condition, okay?” Kaydia teased, forcing a note of levity they all needed in the moment. With a chuckle and a smile they lifted off, heading for the bastard.

Kaydia spent the trip in deep meditation, building strong walls around her mind, shoring up her defenses in preparation for this final confrontation. She knew the Baronet would attack her mind and her memories, drawing on the trauma he caused her to tear her down. He would seek to use her own body against her, controlling her actions, like when he turned her against Quentin on Telerath. He would ignite the SIN still within her, stunning with both physical sensation and conditioned responses. She couldn’t let Quentin down. He needed her, as a partner in his fight against the darkness, and that was what she fully intended to be.
 
"Safe as we can," Quentin said, his laughter a little forced. "But, hey. Two Jedi? We can handle it."

"Idiot," Sheila said gently, stroking his cheek and kissing him lightly. Then she did the same to Kaydia. "I'll see you both soon." Then she stood watching as the two Jedi boarded the ship. Watched as the ship hummed through its preflight checks. Watched as it lifted and soared out of sight. Only then did she glance at Mith'ras. "Everything was prepared?"

"Yes," the Cathar growled. "Twelve hyperspace probes. Each time they exot hyperspace, one will discretely detatch and return here after a three standard hour delay."

"Good." There was steel in the Zeltron's voice. "It's a Jedi matter, what they're doing. But, if they fail..." The thought was appalling, because she wanted them to return safely.

Mith'ras stared heavenward. "If they fail, well..." A shrug. "The contract is ready to be submitted to Guild Ordo."

Sheila laughed. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Spend more time with that collection of toys in your bedside table?"


There was a tension aboard ship. Quentin had felt it - contributed to it - ever since they'd left Zeltros. Much of it was Kaydia fortifying herself, preparing toface Aldane again. But there was also the secret he carried, the thing he'd held back since the vision. He could keep her from seeing it, but couldn't hide the fact that he was.

Finally, on the third day, he madechis way back to the cargo hold. They'd cleared a space there, for meditation and exercise, and she was there. Meditating. Preparing. Silentky, he sat cross-legged before her and waited. Eventually, she opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "There's something I need to tell you, about Aldane. About what he's doing. I... well, I thought..." He grimaced. "I thought it would protect you somehow, not knowing."

Idly, he chewed his lip. "The things he's doing to Linora. The things he did to you. They aren't just sadism. They're part of a Sith alchemical ritual. It starts with serialzed ritual abuse, for as long as it takes, until the..." he swallowed, "the host consents to rape. Because she has to be a willing participant, and it has to be raoe. The goal isn't to breed an heir, though. Not like he said."

Anither swallow. "The goal is to breed a weapon. A child of abnormal strength, steeped in the darkness from conception. Aldane flatters himself that he can control this child, train it. Direct it against the Republic."

He swallowed. "This isn't just about rescuing her, love. A Sith Lord, armed with the might of the Vahdair, could destroy everything."
 
For three days, Kaydia prepared herself, meditating, confronting her painful memories so they could not be used to hurt her. It was difficult, emotionally draining work, probing her psyche for the memories she had pushed down. The memories she had rather not remember were relived. Everything Aldane had done to her, everything he was likely doing to Linora and more. At least Quentin was always nearby, a soothing presence after facing the void.

Except, she could feel the strain in his mind, as he hid secrets from her. She never dared to prod, didn’t bring it up, but she knew, and he knew that she knew. Something he had seen during the vision they shared. Something about to the mission at hand. Kaydia resigned herself to trust him. If the knowledge was pertinent to the mission, he’d share it. Otherwise, it was something that could only hurt her.

I love you. And I will never hurt you.

She could trust Quentin. She did trust him, with everything, more than anyone else in the galaxy. And her trust had been rewarded when she finished her work, three days into their journey. So deep inside her own mind, she hadn’t even noticed Quentin joining her. She smiled at him, welcoming his company, a pleasant counterpoint the horror she had just processed. But his expression was not one of comfort, but the hard look of someone doing something they had really rather not do. And as he opened with an apology, she knew it was the truth he had been hiding from her.

She listened, stoically, as he explained. It was the first test of the defenses she had set up, the first trial to see if she could actually protect herself from her past. A sith ritual, to breed a weapon. She had thought the goal of her torment had been to turn her into a weapon, into Scarlet, a remorseless killer, perfectly obedient to Linora’s will. Likely, that had been Linora’s goal all along, a goal she might have succeeded in, had Kaydia and Quentin not reunited when they had. But Aldane’s goals were different, which explained why he continued to torture her, to hurt her long after she had become Scarlet again. How he continued to encourage her to accept it, accept him, accept what he was doing and what would become of her.

The truth chilled her blood. A weapon, grow from her body, to destroy the republic. Pure darkness, to extinguish the life and light of the galaxy. Kaydia took Quentin’s hands, squeezing, more determined than ever. “We will not fail this time. I will not fail you. Not again.”



Hovering in the space above Ziost, Kaydia was assaulted with the toxic miasma of millennia of darkness. A chocking presence, weighing against her resistance to call on the dark side. She recognized it, that harrowing atmosphere that played background to her torment. This was where Linora had kept her, hidden from Quentin so she could convince Kaydia that he had abandoned her. “I know where they are,” she said, softly, simply, no need to elaborate on how she knew. All she had to do was type the coordinates into the navsat and ready herself to for this battle.
 
Ziost.

Quentin had read of the world before, of course. But he'd never visited. Never wanted to visit. His one trip to Korriban, in company with Master Valis after he'd been created a Shadow, had been more than enough. And the Sith had all but abandoned Korriban long milennia before they were conquered by the ancient, fallen Jedi.

Next to Ziost, Korriban was nothing. He could feel the dark side roiling from the surface, lashing the Force into storms and eddies and waves. It took all his discipline to maintain his composure in the face if the seething hellscape below.

"Throne world of the ancient Sith Empire," he murmured. "Home to a hundred generations of dark side sorcerors before the Starbreaker-12 stumbled upon them. Home to Naga Sadow, whose dark spirit corrupted Exar Kun and Ulik Qel-Droma."

He took Kaydia's hand for a moment. "I know you won't fail me," he murmured, letting her feel the truth of his belief. "You survived everything Linora and Aldane did to you - survived that ." He gestured at the planet, so innocuous looking without eyes that saw the Force. "You survived, and returned to the light. And now, when no one would begrudge your refusal, you're trying to spare one of your tormenters the same horrors."

He smiled, and squeezed her hand. "You're stringer than you think, love. Trust in yourself. Trust in the Force." With a sigh, he stared outthe canopy. "And when you're ready? Take us in."
 
I probably deserve this.

Aldane’s strokes were punishing, harsh, but it wasn’t the worst part of it. What was worse was his presence in her mind, stimulating her nerves at the source, driving her to orgasm. Pushing her, despite trying with every fiber of her being to resist. What would accompany her climax today? More cuts? The searing kiss of his saber? A broken jaw? He ripped her prosthetic out last time, the nerves shredding with the force, far more horrific than merely losing the arm had been. As much as she fought, as much as she resisted, release seemed imminent, and her terror rose in sync with her ecstasy. It had been a little over a week, but she learned to fear her orgasm. Fear it, but she could not stop it, couldn’t stop him, couldn’t fight him off or protect herself.

I chased the darkness, and it’s finally coming back on me.

Quentin had always believed she could be saved. No matter how far gone she went. Even after she had framed him for murder. After she had tried to kill him. After she raped him. After she had Kaydia raped and tortured and even after she sent her to kill him. Maybe that was why she had reached for him, in the force. Him and Kaydia, hoping one of them might receive it. Hoping Kaydia might have some sympathy. Or at least show up to finish what she had started on Telerath. Linora welcomed death at this point.

"You saw what he did to me, and you still took him to your bed. And he broke you, as you let him break me. He doesn't care what happens to you, Linora. Live with that hopelessness. I hope it eats from within."

Aldane’s fingers tightened in her hair, as her slit tightened around him. No, No! NO! A word less cry left her lips and she trembled around him. A wordless cry that turned into a bloodcurdling screech, dark lightning flowing from his fingers against her skull. She could feel her flesh cooking, the sustained exposure leaving the pattern of lightning etched in her skin. Finally, he stopped, gripping her hips to hilt himself within. His seed lashed her womb, leaving her empty and hallow as he filled her with it. Without ceremony he left her fall into the mattress, her twitching body still riding the waves of agony and arousal.

“Why do you make me do this to you, Linora? You should have let me do this to Scarlet, and it’s been done already.” He complained, cleaning himself off. He stopped, tilting his head to the side, a pleased smile growing on his lips. “Perhaps there is still a chance. Our Scarlet’s come back to us, the Shadow too. You want this to stop, don’t you?” His hands were deceptively soft as he caressed her cheek. “Help me capture her, and she can take your place, once more. You can even help me. It will be just like old times.” He unlocked her chain, helping her to her feet. “Remember, your pain, your hate makes you strong. Now clean yourself off. We have work to do.”
 
"Well," Quentin quipped, trying to make light of the scene before him, "someone's apparently overcompensating."

Kaydia had landed the ship on a fusion-seaked slab if granite that had ince heen the the lower peak of a mountain. The edges were jagged, eaten away by time, but the foundatiins were still sound. At one end, a narrow-looking bridge of cables and armorplast plankd stretched across a deep ravine to the far slope, and switchbacks leading up the side of the mountain. At the peak squatted an ancient, monolithic structure that seemed to raduate age and malevolence.

"Why can't these dark megalomaniacs ever set up somewhere pleasant?" he complained, strapping on a weapon belt. Traditionalists in the Order might disparage other weapons as 'clumsy' or 'improper' and cling to the lightsaber, but he'd learned to appreciate options. And so his heavy Mandalorian blaster hung from a hip opposite his lightsaber, and lanvarok disks nestled next to it, and a strangling cord went around one wrist like a bracelet. Finally, four throwing knives went in wrist sheathes, and a combat dagger into his boot.

"The dangerous part," he remarked, shouldering a pack, "is, well, all of this. But right off the bat I don't like that bridge. Followed by the exposed climb. Remind me to make a few suggestions to Aldane about improving his hospitality. You don't happen to know of some secret, alternate route?"
 
Kaydia mimicked Quentin’s actions, packing several back up weapons in addition to her lightsaber. After all, she had over a decade’s experience with an assortment of other arms. Hand to hand combat became her expertise, that and the force powers she could use to end a person’s life. So she wore the Kasai fighting gauntlets he had given her on Telerath, and had her own blaster pistol. A DL-16, lighter than his, and what it lacked in power it made up in fire rate. There was also a retractable stun baton strapped to her thigh, a vibro blade on her back, and a pair of concussion grenades on her belt.

“You don't happen to know of some secret, alternate route?”

“I wasn’t let out much,” she quipped, a joke made possible by the immense training she engaged in before arriving. There was almost certainly a shielded launch pad for ships, but there wasn’t a way for her access it, not without passcodes and alerting Aldane and whoever else might be there of their presence.

“He is going to know we are coming,” she mentioned, tracing the path they would need to take with her eyes, “Our mere presence will be amplified by the darkness. Like how stars are brighter on dark nights. He might already know we are here. And he will be stronger here, able to call upon eons of Sith history to fuel him. But hey, we have the power of love, right?” she laughed, hopefully not too bitterly.

On that note, she pulled him to her, one last kiss to empower her, empower him, to remind them what they were fighting for. It was over too quickly, carrying a promise of victory between their lips.
 
"The power of love, set against eons of the lore of the ancient Sith," Quentin mused, kissing her back. "It hardly seems fair, does it?"

The air was cool, with a bite of frost in the mildew-scented wind. Briefly he considered drawing the Force around himself, cloaking his presence from the perceptions of others. But to do that would be to blind his own perceptions as well, and Kaydia was right - they had to assume that Aldane knew they were coming already. He'd have seen the ship land, if nothing else.



Aldane strode out into a broad balcony that overlooked the side of the mountain, raising an arm and uttering a weird, ululating cry as he went. After a second cry the call was answered, echoing in the lowering evening sky. Beating wings soon followed as great leathery shapes settled to the balcony and crouched before him. "Mavashti," he said, as if that explained everything. "Feral descendants of the Massassi warriors of the Sith, altered through their dark alchemies."

There were a dozen of the Mavashti, leathery maroon things roughly humanoid in appearance. Malevolence glittered in their salon slotted eyes, and their arms stretched in great wings topped with jagged ivory claws. They glared hungrily at Linora, then cowered back as Aldane drew near. "There are intruders," he told them. "A male and a female. Kill him. Bring her to me if you can."

One of them glibbered something, and Aldane smiled coldly. "As long as you do not kill her, yes. You may use her as you wish, first. Now go."

The creatures rose, staring at Linora hungrily as they stretched their wings and took to the skies. Aldane shook his head. "I doubt they will succeed, but they are hardly the first of our preparations. Come. We have much more to do."
 
They weren’t half way across the bridge before the flapping of wings could be heard. From the castle came the figures, winged beings as big as a human. Kaydia hoped they aren’t headed for them, but that was precisely where they were headed. She had to have known this would never be easy.

Incoming, she signaled to Quentin, pulling out her light blaster. Two quick shots peppered one fiend, knocking it from the air at a distance. The creatures spread out then, zipping and sagging to avoid becoming easy targets. As they closed in on them, she managed to tag another, the heated blast singeing it’s wing and dropping its flapping rhythm.

She put the pistol away and pulled her saber as they came within range to strike, carving into the first that lacked the sense to stay outside of her range. But even as it plummeted, a claw from another cleaved into her back, drawing blood and shredding muscle. Fuck, there were too many of them to fight one at a time. And the way they dived for them, two and three at a time meant that at least one of them would be able to strike before moving back out of range.

We need to fight back to back, she called to her love, just ducking under a swoop, but missing the counter thrust. Two more came at her form both sides, and instead of trying to evade and attack, she used the force, drawing them to collide into one another. Both fell on either side of her, and she bisected each before they could recover. Still, over a dozen remained, circling and watching their prey.
 
Quentin's blaster was in his hand as he registered Kaydia's warning, the heavy pistol hammering away in rapid succession. Four of the creatures fell, tumbling in graceless whirls into the abyss as he shot them. But then they were in too close, swarming and ripping at them as they packed too close for guns. Talons nicked and ripped, drawing blood from a dozen small wounds as he switched hands and ignited his saber, and then two more died as the others scattered. We need to fight back to back, she called.

The creatures were circling them now, and he fired twice more with his off hand. One shot went wide, splashing against the mountain, but the other blasted a fist-sized hole in a crimson chest. "Not good," he grunted. "And I can feel the Force in then, the darkness helping them coordinate their attacks." It was difficult to keep them all in sight - they circled above and below, rising and falling in graceful sweeps that made them difficult to count.

He took two steps forward, feeling the bridge sway and watching thecreaturez follow. One shrieked in anger, and as his eyes flickered towards it another hurled something. The Firce warned him in time to save his hand, but a screaming obsidian disk knocked the blaster from his grip. For a dizzying instant he watched it plummet. "Right," he said. "I don't see another choice. When I give the signal, sprint for the far side."

Suddenly, he pulled Kaydia close. As he did he reached out through the Force, allowing his will to erupt outwards. A concussive wave exploded outwards, scattering the flock and sending two or threeof the creatures spinning uncontrollably. "Run!"
 
When Quentin pulled her close, she lent him her energy, magnifying his concussive blast. Then it was her turn to pull, sprinting as he advised, and bringing him along with her. His attack bought them precious moments, moments she didn’t waste.

It was a little better once they reached the other side, but not by much. Harder for the beings to attack from every angle, but their position was just as precarious. Not much room to move and evade and fight back. Still, there was sold ground beneath their feet, and that was a small victory.

She still had her pistol, so she took a couple more shots as they regrouped, and charged against. Took a couple more down in the process, bodies descending into the jagged rocks below. Her gun lacked the stopping power of the one he lost, but against their airborne foes it got the job done. Still, despite their improved position, despite picking off almost half their numbers, the fiends continued their tried and true method of striking in unison, overwhelming them with numbers and speed.

And the long the battle went on, the harder it was to resist giving into annoyance. Annoyance that built into anger. The very ground, the very air seemed to whisper about giving into that anger. Drawing on it. How the battle would be over already, if only they called on the darkness. It seemed to get in the way of pathways of the force, disrupting her built to trust and let the presence guide her.

Despite the seductive lure of power, Kaydia tuned it out, drawing on her bond with Quentin to keep the darkness out. Drawing on her bond to see the movements of their attackers, unleashing her saber from her hand as two more swooped in. Green light flashed throughout the ravine, leaving the fiend’s torsos separated from their hips, the dying screeches echoing against the unforgiving stones. The hilt of her saber was still warm when it returned to her grasp.
 
"Looks like..." Quentin's head moved, trying to track the movements of the creatures. "Five left. Sound right?" It really was hard to tell, because they kept moving, whuch was probably why they did it. Sighing, he reached out through the Force, sensing the whirling pulse of their lives. "Yeah, five."

It would be easy to stop them, he knew. A simple matter of opening himself, drawing the burning energies of their lives into himself to heal and strengthen himself. Let their lifeless, withered husks fall from the sky as he showed them the error of attacking a Jedi. Smiling grimly, he let his hate rise, began to let it attract the hate of his enemies...

Shaking himself, Quentin fought for control. The darkness is seductive, Master Valis had taught, offering much, but taking more. Then, startled, he brought up his lightsaber to fend off one of the creatures. It snarled something, pulling up at the last second to evade his blow. "This is getting us niwhere," he muttered.

So. Think outside the box. What was at hand? The lanvarok? The grenades? The crumbling cliff face?

Slowly, he began to smile. "Duck," he said, resting his hand on the stone. A few loose rocks began to stir. Then, as he cleared his mind and relaxed, the cliff face seemed to explode. Fragments of loose damp chert eruoted into the sky, hammering and tearing at their soaring adversarues. In an instant it was over, and the sudden silence was broken only by the distant sound of stone striking stone.

With a sigh, Quentin wiped sweat from his forehead. "I wonder what else Aldane has prepared for us?"
 
Once Quentin dispatched the last of their foes, Kaydia took a moment to breathe, catching her breath from the exertion of battle. There were both in good shape, overall, save the lost blaster and the gashes from the fiend’s claws. Glancing up the mountain, to the keep at the summit, she just shook her head, “Nothing good, my experience suggests.”

Even now, she wondered about Linora. Was she still being tortured, beaten and raped, as they approached? Was she still Linora, whoever that really was under the lies and the masks and the deceptions? They had agreed on saving her, but was there a her left, to be saved? Aldane had taken months to break her down, tempered by Linora’s restrictions, but what could he accomplish with no limits placed on him? What had she endured, with nothing to restrain the brunt of his brutality?

Nevertheless, they traversed the mount, their Sith adversary seeming letting the natural perils of the trek stand as deterrence enough. Twice they had fallen during the climb, slipping as footholds came loose, their force bond tethering them together. By the time they had reached the summit, standing before the keep entrance, they were already worn and exhausted, aching muscles protesting further movement.

It was harder then, not to call on the darkness. For Kaydia not to use her memories of this place as fuel for the upcoming battle. Fighting the Sith with the dark side would not succeed. He had a deeper well of power to call upon, a fact he had proven time and time again. She needed to be stronger than her memories, and she would be. She would defeat that bastard as a Jedi, what she had been meant to become all her life.

Still, Jedi or not, there would be no mercy this time.
 
Quentin breathed deeply and stretched, forcing himself to limber up aching muscles. The climb had been brutally hard - he had the bruises and scrapes to prove it- and all he wanted right now was to rest. Instead he meditated as he stretched, centering himself against the dark influence of the world around him and drawing on the Force to flush fatigue from his weary body. It was harder than it shiuld have been. The stones and the air itself called to him, urged hoim to give in to rage and hate.

"This proves one thing," he finally said. "Aldane, for all his skill and power, is a tactical idiot." He gestured down the mountain. "He should have sent his creatures when we were climbing. It would have been more difficult to defend ourselves, then. Instead..."

He drew his lightsaber smoothly, igniting it as the great door of the fortress rumbled open. Framed within stood a single droid, gaunt and skeletal in appearance, with multiple blade-tipped appendages. It bowed jerkily, limbs unfolding to counterbalance the gesture. "Have I the honor of addressing Jedi Sir Quentin Hall, and Jedi Sir Kaydia Voss?" it asked in a rasping, croaking voice.

The formality of the greeting did nothing to set Quentin's mind at ease. "You have," he replied carefully.

The droid straightened. "My master, the Baronet Aldane ha-Florindel Sergovia Organa-Natal, bids me welcome you, and offers you the hospitality of his home. And if it is convenient, he awaits you in the garden. Shall I escort you there now, or woulx you prefer to freshen up first?"

Quentin blinked. "Okay," he said slowly. "This is not what I was expecting."
 
Kaydia had no idea what to expect. Certainly not a protocol droid leading them into the gardens. Though the gardens were what she expected from the Baronet. Vines and ivy along trellis, purples and reds and blacks, instead of the greens that were typical of flora. Was this what was natural of this world, or where they planted by Aldane, to better fit his aesthetic? Linora was already victim of this, dressed in a black overcoat with velvet and lace trimmings. She was pale, sullen, her cheekbones almost sharp from malnourishment and abuse. There was a familiar look in her dark eyes, eyes that gazed far past her or Quentin. A look Kaydia had known, a look she had worn while Aldane tormented her. Surrender.

Aldane leapt to his feet as they approached, but not out of aggression. “You should have told me you were coming. I would have received you in the hanger,” He insisted wearing that deceptive smile. It would come as no surprise that neither she nor Quentin accepted his handshake. He made a show of looking wounded, an incredible display of arrogance in the presence of two of the women he had tortured. “I take it you two aren’t here to congratulate us on our domestic bliss.”

“Congratulate?” Kaydia repeated, hardly able to mask the incredulity in her voice. She had prepared for a great many things, but nothing like this.

“I am afraid you are a bit premature, in any case. Despite my valiant efforts, we have yet to accomplish conception. But any day now, I suspect,” he elaborated, taunting them. Clearly he didn’t see them as a threat, not with his casual demeanor and small talk. “So did you came to help?” He teased, leering at Kaydia, reliving his memories of seeing her exposed before him, before turning his gaze to Quentin, having Kaydia and Linora’s memories to fill in the details of his physique. “Paternity is a bit of an issue for me, but I am sure we could work something out.”

“Cut the shit, Aldane,” Kaydia snarled, losing her patience for his games as the darkness seeped into each breath. He smirked at her, amused.

“Still sore? That’s too bad. So what, you think you’ve come to rescue her? Linora?” He turned to face her playing as if he couldn’t read the terror and shame on her features, “Linora, dear, did you want to leave with them?”

The question sent a thrill of fear through Linora. It was a game to him. A test. There was a wrong answer, and a terrible price to pay for giving the wrong answer. Kaydia remembered, mostly impassively, some of the punishments she received for giving the wrong answer. Linora looked to Quentin, and then her, taking silent appraisal of them. Trying to figure out if it were possible for them to defeat the Baronet. Then, defeated, she answered him correctly, “No, I wish to stay here. With…you.” Those last two words were hard to say, but her tone didn’t matter so much. Just her obedience.

“You see, she is perfectly happy here. Now, you are welcome to join us for lunch, or leave the way you arrived.”
 
Even with his senses muted by the Dark Side, Quentin could taste the fear in Linora. Fear, and self-loathing, and shame as she struggled for an answer to Aldane's mocking questions. The same emotions that he always sensed lurking in the back of Kaydia's mind, the ones that ran rampant through her dreams on the nights she awoke in terror. He thought he'd been prepared for that. Kaydia had trained her self hard, and he was confident she could withstand it. He trusted her, trusted with his love and his life. And Linora? Well, he'd loved her once. But that had been swept away in betrayal and attempted murder, and he'd thought that her suffering wouldn't affect him.

“No," Linora said, voice dull and lifeless, "I wish to stay here. With…you.”

He was wrong. Maybe he was just a fool, or maybe that young Padawan he'd been was still part of him. Or maybe it was just because he wasn't a monster. Because Linora's pain and fear was a dagger in his heart.

“You see," Aldane laughed in triumph, "she is perfectly happy here. Now, you are welcome to join us for lunch, or leave the way you arrived.”

Quentin could feel the crushing despair in Linora, a sensation dreadfully close to the feeling of something dying in the Force. He could feel Kaydia's echoing horror and taste her nightmare memories fluttering along the surface of his mind. Ice flooded his veins, and burning rage coursed along his nerves. "Perfectly... happy..?" he repeated, the words toneless and cold. He shuddered, flexing his fingers. There is emotion, yet there is peace, he told himself.

"Of course she is," Aldane said languidly, resting a propitiatory hand on Linora's shoulder.

There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge, Quentin told himself, feeling the flinch that Linora didn't dare to make. There is passion, yet there serenity. He could feel Kaydia as well, horrified and filled with rage, itching to lash out. There is chaos, yet there is harmony. There is death, yet there is the Force.

Aldane gasped as the Force struck him, hurling him the length of the room to smash violently into the tapestry-covered basalt wall. He reached out, tearing at the bands that restrained him with the full power of the Dark Side, then suddenly screamed as his nerves seemed to explode with in him. Fighting through the pain, pain nearly as great as that which his own Master had routinely inflicted during his training, he managed to tumble to the ground and draw his lightsaber. "This," he gasped, "this is not the behavior of a guest and a gentleman."

Quentin stalked towards him, the white glow of his lightsaber reflected in the burning crimson light in his eyes. "Fuck you," he snarled, lashing out. Aldane barely managed to bring up a shield in time, turning aside the ravening orange lightnings that sought to tear away and drain his very life. "I have had enough of you, you son of a bitch!"

Laughing now, Aldane ignited his lightdagger as well and began to circle to the left. "Then step from the shadows, Jedi, and end me. If you can."
 
The building of hatred and anger in Quentin’s mind was worrying to Kaydia. Quentin, her Quentin was always in control. A master of his emotions, not denying them, not shying away from them. He let himself feel them, and never dominate him. But even a master was still mortal, still moved by scenes of abject cruelty and malice. She had trained herself for this exact moment, and she still felt as if she might lose her discipline after Aldane’s brutal display.

And that, in reality, had been Aldane’s goal. It was always his goal, in every fight they had engaged in. Always trying to lure one or the other of them into giving in to their hate and anger. Even Quentin, who was clearly deadly when tapped into the darkside, with his vast forbidden knowledge. Because it didn’t matter. It never mattered. None of them would be able to match his acumen with the darkness, and he could use his opponents’ darkness against them. Vaapad, she realized. Beyond a saber technique, it was a state of mind, an enjoyment of battle, of violence, or winning. A strong opponent only made him stronger, and right now Quentin was a nigh infinite well for him to draw upon.

You can’t give in to your abhorrence, or your rage, she tried to warn Quentin, through their bond, feeling her words hardly penetrate the fog of the darkness in his mind. She rushed into the melee, her own saber drawn, offering Quentin the support he needed to turn away from the seductive grip of the dark side. This is what he wants you to do, she explained, pinning down the light dagger before it could strike her lover. He is using you for a conduit, using your darkness to empower his own. It’s making him more powerful.

“Linora, dear, I have my hands full over here. Won’t you come entertain Kaydia?” Aldane called, maintaining that mocking tone. At the same time he force pushed her, hard sending her back into the far wall. Kaydia gasped, dragging air back into her lung and moving her arm, concerned for a moment that she had broken her shoulder. As she took a moment to focus on the injury, patching it up as well as she could, Linora approached her, red saber ignited at her side. Still, something was off about her movements, stilted, simulated, if you would. Outside of her own control, perhaps, with dark eyes glassed over, distant and empty. Like a marionette.

Kaydia gasped at that last realization, bringing up her saber just in time to deflect the wide swing from Linora. Tears streamed Linora’s cheeks as a wicked smile curled on her face, a hideous parody of her emotions, a vicious mockery of her autonomy. “Fight it,” Kaydia pleaded with Linora, focusing on defense, focusing on protecting herself from Linora’s deft attacks. “I know it’s hard, but you have to fight it.”
 
Kaydia's words, the ones directed to Linora as well as the ones to him, finally managed to sink in. As they did, he realized that he could sense Aldane's gloating triumph in the Force. But he didn't care - he just wanted to destroy the son of a bitch, to make him suffer. "Yes, that's right," Aldane purred, driving in at him with both lightsabers. "Hate is such delicious strength, isn't it? Such power, coursing through you.."

Quentin seethed as he fought, fury redoubling as he realized that Aldane was pushing him back across the room. Staggering under the Sith Lord's assault, he made a gesture with his free hand. The Force surged around him, gathering into a pulsing orb of lambent white. Aldane hesitated at the sight. "What, my dear Jedi, are you doing?"


"I can't fight him," Linora said simply, voice barely audible above the hissing clash of lightsabers. "I... I tried that..." She shuddered as she hammered at Kaydia's defense, remembering the tortures that defiance brought. The extra degradations and sufferings, and they lent a desperate new strength to her attacks.

Frustratingly, her opponent continued to give ground. Continued to parry and evade. Continued to talk. Linora gritted her teeth, hate and terror mixing and combining within her to fuel her attacks. "Damnit, Scarlet!" she raged. "You left me! We... we could have stopped him, together! But you betrayed me! Betrayed us!"


Quentin raised his hand, then hesitated. Hate. Pure and distilled and lethally destructive, it pulsed and throbbed in his grip and howled for release. "What is it?" he said slowly, as if talking to himself. "It..."

He drew a deep breath. As he did, he could hear in memory the lessons of Master Yoda, teachings he'd absorbed as a child on Coruscant. Anger. Fear. Aggression. The dark side of the Force, they are. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. Stronger, it is not. Quicker, only. Easier. More seductive. If once you start diwn the dark path, forever will it dominate you.

Shuddering, he let the ball dissipate. "A mistake. It was a mistake."
 
Hatred flowed form Quentin through their bond, hatred for the man who had hurt her and Linora. Hatred dripped from Linora’s skin, in the marks and scars Aldane had given her, reflected on Kaydia’s body. Hatred radiated from Aldane, empowering him, driving the attacks that put Quentin on the defensive. It would have been easy for Kaydia to let the hate consume her. As easy as each breath she took. Linora words pushed her, drove her to the edge of the void, accusations after what she had put her through. But she knew what giving in meant. She knew what would happen to her if she gave, what would continue to happen to Linora.

“I forgive you,” Kaydia called to Linora, sidestepping the thrust and knocking the blow back. The words stunned Linora, staggering her assault.

“You…forgive me? What I did? What I let him…do to you?” Linora whispered in a strangled croak, the words unreal to her, unreal in the moment after everything she experienced at Aldane’s hands.

“Yes, I do,” Kaydia asserted, watching Linora. Watching her struggle against the Baronet’s control once more. While she hesitated, Kaydia pushed the saber from her hand at the same time she snapped off her own. While Linora was bewildered Kaydia grabbed her hand, twisting her and pulled had back against her. “It’s not too late, Linora. It’s not too late to stop him. All three of us. Together we can defeat him. We can free you from his grasp.”

Linora struggled for a moment, watching Quentin and Aldane, watching the growing hatred gather under Quentin’s control. Noting the hint of fear in Aldane’s eyes, at the thought that Quentin might actually unleash it. But Quentin regained control of himself, of his emotions, and let the hatred dissipate back into the atmosphere.


“Oh my dear Jedi,” Aldane sighed, “That is why you will never defeat me. Because you will not embrace the fury that burns within you. You deny it, and you struggle and the ones you love will suffer. You will fail, because you deny your true self. You will fail and they will bear my wrath. I already have Linora. I will have your Kaydia again, I will have her torment and her agony and her despair.” He had Quentin against the wall, a pinning his saber over his head, heated blades melting the stone. He slashed with the shoto, but the Jedi managed to dodge underneath, twisting away from the wall.

“I will reach into your memories and find everyone you have ever cared for, and I will hurt them. Torture them, break them, leave them as empty husks from my hunger. I will have everything that you once called yours, because I am strong enough to embrace the darkness within me.”



“What he told you, he is never going to let you go. He is never going to stop. No matter what you give him, who you give him, he will always want more. Take more, until there is nothing left. He will consume you, because the darkness can only consume,” Kaydia whispered to Linora as Aldane’s words played through her mind. Played through both of their minds. Kaydia lent her strength, the strength she had built as they came here, the strength built upon their shared experience of torment.

“Why do you forgive me?” Linora asked, starting to regain her composure, reclaim her strength. Kaydia eased up on her hold over her.

“Because, women like us? We need to have each other’s backs.”
 
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