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Chapter Nine: Remorse, Tears for the Condemed |
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we begin at the vision Loki sends to Luke, explaining her last servive to the Empire and the extent of her powers.
Chapter Nine
“Remorse, Tears For The Condemned”
As far as she was concerned, her master could go get warped. But there was still a small amount of loyalty that was desired in such relationships. Even if he had dismissed her, told her to go home, told her it was no longer safe for her in the only stable niche in life she had ever known. She was ordered to go home. She was supposed to go home.
But there was still one thing she had to do before she resigned completely.
She had to kill a certain lizard that had somehow evaded her master as of yet.
So she stepped off her starship and made her way for the skyhook that was marked RESTRICTED.
Her hood was pulled up and the cowl came down, covering her defining eyes and jet black hair. She was dressed simply, although it was all covered by her cloak. To the rest of the planet, she was unmemorable. Nothing to worry about. A waif looking for a place to bed down for the night.
Perfect. Just the facade she needed.
Two armed guards stood at the turbo-lift that would lead her to the skyhook, high above the surface in the clouds. The checked their weapons in a second and held them in the hollows of their shoulders. They were ready to use them. Hey, they thought, just a little girl. No problem.
“Can we help you?” One asked. He bent a little trying to see into her eyes.
“You can take me to Prince Xizor,” she said, clearly, lazily waving her hand. Bodyguards usually had big muscles and small brains. The guard, seemingly in a trance, reached for the turbo-lift’s door opening button. The other grabbed his wrist.
“Fool!” He hissed. “She’s using an old Jedi mind trick.” The guard snapped out of it and glared at her. “You’ve made a mistake, little one.” She made a show of trying to pull back away from him in fear. “I don’t know who sent you, but Prince Xizor will be happy to send them a message back.”
The other sniggered.
“We’ll take you to Xizor,” he said. “Your body at least.”
The second guard grabbed her hood and pulled back, revealing her jet black hair and icy-purple eyes that shone in the dark, almost dead world that was once Faleen. Recognition crept into the first guard’s face.
“Hey, isn’t that Vader’s aide?” He asked. She smirked. Aide, right, she thought. What a nice thing to call it.
“Very astute of you, gentlemen,” she said. “Prince Xizor and I have . . . business to attend to. If you please, I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
There was a snap-hiss and a purple glow illuminated the two guards’ shocked faces.
A moment later, she stepped into the turbo-lift and hit the button that would take her to the very top floor. Her death count was six now. Her first was a traitorous Grand Moff. Her second and third was a pair of bounty hunters that tried to cheat her Master out of several thousand credits. Money was no object to him, it was the principle of the thing. You simply did not cheat Darth Vader. Her fourth death came from Force choking a senator that had displeased her master. Then the two bodyguards who lay in several thousand bloody pieces at the foot of the skyhook. And now . . . very soon, she would have her seventh. Prince Xizor.
As the lift rose, she realized how dramatically things will change. She would no longer be called Bloodfire, no longer be associated with the darkness. She would be known as the Long Lost Daughter of Jenovia. A princess. She didn’t want to be a princess. Her place was in the Force, at her Master’s side. Not in a palace, but on the Executor, her true home.
The lift stopped, jarring her out of her thoughts.
The doors slid open.
She felt his presence in the room, nearly drowning her in a thick vanilla-like scent.
Xizor was well liked by the opposite sex and had many mistresses. His skin had the slightest of green coloring to it and his hair was a deep black, not as deep as hers but it was a contender. He was always dressed extravagantly and was known for his . . . appeal.
She stepped into the room and was surprised by how quiet it was. His skyhook had many rooms to it. This was no doubt his own personal quarters. She moved cautiously. Xizor was a master in over twenty-three forms of martial arts. She was a Sith Apprentice. It would be an interesting fight, to say the least.
“Can I help you?”
She spun. There he was. He must have come out from a back room. No matter. What was one surprise? She was ready now.
“Prince Xizor,” she said. “I’m not sure if you realize who exactly I am, but I will be the last person you ever see, so take a good look.” She flung off her traveling cloak.
“Oh, but I do recognize you,” he said, taking off his own robe. He was wearing a tight white exercise uniform underneath. “You are Vader’s pretty little pet.”
His words caused an anger to creep into her blood. Her anger was forgotten when she realized his eyes were traveling up and down her body. She was wearing a dark, navy blue body suit. It was a tad tight on her.
“I was never his pet. I was his advisor and friend,” she hissed. “I work alone now, however.” Her eyes narrowed on him. He smiled. Xizor’s smile usually melted girls like butter. That smiled waned after thirty seconds. She smirked. It was obvious she was stronger willed than most women. That would work in her favor.
“So you’ve come to kill me then?” He asked. She uncliped her saber from her belt. The hilt was weighted and perfectly balanced for her hand and grip. Her thumb tapped the control and the iced-purple blade extended itself. “Come at me then, little kitten.” She prepared to pour all her anger, hatred, and betrayl into this fight. After all, it had to go somewhere. She lunged and swung in an arch that should have taken off his head.
He was now behind her, moving fast enough to dodge the slash. He delivered a hard elbow into her spine. She was able to roll with the hit, which insured that her spine remained intact. She fell to her knees, tucked and rolled, sheathing her saber in the motion. She ended up on her stomach, blaster drawn. She fired a few easy shots that dropped Xizor.
Although he was badly wounded, he still gripped an envelope opener in his bloody fist and lunged at her, bringing it down into her calf.
The stab hit its mark and she kicked his body off of her, leaving the crystal blade in her leg. She pulled it out wordlessly as he tried to crawl away, devoid of energy now. She stood and walked towards him, stalking him almost.
“What did I do to you to deserve to be murdered in my own skyhook?” He gasped. She laid the blade on his throat.
“You angered my Master,” she whispered. In all truth, she was surprised by how easily this kill came. Xizor was hardly a challenge. She was wrong, as she learned a second later.
It was an act. He kicked her into the wall. She slid down it as he got up, unperturbed.
“Your master is a fool,” he said, brushing his arm off. “You are his toy, his subterfuge. He is a sick man hiding behind machinery and power.” She shook her head, trying not to hear. She was wounded now herself. His kick had slammed her into a shelf holder that missed her lungs and organs by inches, but impaled her nonetheless. At least she wasn’t hanging from the thing. It hurt for her to breathe. She spit blood. Xizor pulled a blaster lazily. Why rush? This gave her some time to heal herself, at least. Underestimating her would be his damnation.
“Tell me something,” he said, taking aim carefully. “Where is your master now?” She glared at him. “Does he even care that you are about to die?”
“My Master will kill you one day,” she hissed. “And I will be by his side when he does.” It was all a lie, but still, a valid threat in Xizor’s mind.
“Do not harbor romantic ideas, Meridean,” Xizor spat. “What? Do you believe Vader loved you? Like the daughter he never had? Ha! He used you. That monstrosity loves only power and his precious Empire. The Rebellion will fail, but the Empire will be forever weakened.” He used the barrel of the blaster to move a strand off hair out of her face. “As will your master.”
“He will feel my death in the Force,” she hissed. “He will come after you.”
“Palpatine would never allow him to — ”
“******** Palpatine!” She yelled. “And ******** you, you c**t!” Xizor prepared to fire.
“What a loss,” he muttered. “Such a pretty face . . . Such a hopeless fool.”
She closed her eyes and opened them again, losing whatever control she had.
Her eyes were blood red.
A blast of Force shot Xizor back. The blaster was knocked from his hand as she rose to her feet in a fluid movement that was not natural. Her black hair swirled around her head. Xizor was terrified of the void that was her glowing red eyes.
An entity that looked like an angry goddess rose from her shoulders. It was red as well and looked inflamed. It shot at the trembling Xizor and passed through, darting back to her body and back inside.
Xizor blinked as Loki touched her head. She had let her anger release the second most dreaded Soul Art ever. Xizor’s posture changed. His skin turned emerald green and the spikes on his spinal column that was so common in his speces jutted from his back. His nails turned to claws. His jaw unhinged like a serpent and he bared his lizard teeth. His pupils dilated to slits.
The Soul Corruption had taken its full affect on Prince Xizor.
The former leader of Faleen roared at her and charged. She held her arms in an X in front of her. He latched on to her forearm of her right arm. He thrashed his head, trying to tear the limb from her. He shook her like a rag doll and threw her onto his desk. The movement crushed it beneath her. He leapt to tear at her face. She brought her legs up and jack knifed him into the opposite wall. The action tore open her already gapping back wound. She coughed blood. She needed to heal herself and fast. There was only one thing left to do now. He was inexplicably strong being full of nothing but hate and adrenaline. He was too powerful. She stood on the remains of the desk and centered herself. She held up two fingers from each hand and crossed them in a crucifix shape.
“SHADOWSELF!” She screamed, throwing her arms back to her sides. Her hands were engulfed in glowing black fire. She raised her arms in a Y shape and closed her eyes. Those orbs grew to engulf the room in the swirling black and lavender light.
She opened her eyes to see Prince Xizor, shriveling into a dried corpse, like a mummy buried in the deepest sands of Tatooine.
The ShadowSelf came back to her and she fell to her knees.
It was done. She had served her master to the very end, doing him this one last favor.
She walked out, back to The White Raven and got aboard.
It was finally over. She was no longer an instrument of the Empire.
2
Luke gasped and starred at the ceiling of the gym. He was laying on his back, drenched in a cold sweat. Loki sat near him. He propped himself up on his elbows and sucked in a breath.
“You wanted me to show you my other powers,” she whispered. “There you go. The demise of Prince Xizor. The seventh death the Empire orchestrated through me.”
“Why am I so cold?” Luke asked. Loki looked at him. He was laying on his back, hugging himself while he shivered, his muscles tightening and relaxing rapidly.
“It’s a side effect from the Soul Exchange,” Loki explained. “Your soul is getting used to your body again. It’s like swimming in cold water. Give it a second or too.” Luke closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke. Just needed to get that off my chest.” Luke got to his feet, shakily. Loki got up too.
“My father . . . did he know you could do those things?” He asked, mouth dry. Loki starred at her feet. “Did he ask you to kill Prince Xizor after he confronted me?”
“I never told him. My Soulself was used for Interrogations only.” She said. Luke exhaled, relieved. He didn’t mind Loki rubbing the small of his back with her left hand either. The contact actually felt good. Soothing almost. Loki laughed weakly, tears falling from her eyes. “You’re full of knots, Skywalker.” She said, her voice abnormally high.
Without words or protests, Master and Apprentice embraced. Loki let Luke hold her against his chest and she allowed the rest of her tears to leave tracks on his black tunic.
“It’s all right, Loki,” Luke whispered. Loki opened her mouth to say that she thought it would never be alright again.
“A war has started. It will take Masters and Apprentices, Padawans and Knights alike, to win against the minions of darkness, the army of darkness we are up against, Luke. The Dark Side and I know each other, but we’ve never been intimate, and I’ve never been afraid to be Gray. It is of this cave-darkness of the Force that I am afraid.”
The two Jedi both froze, tensing against each other. The room had gone cold.
The Dark Side had descended on the Academy, the cave-darkness Loki had spoken of.
“Something’s wrong,” Luke said.
“Yeah, dur,” Loki said. They were looking at the ceiling. “It sound’s like a battle is going on up there.” She reached out to touch whoever was up there in the Force. “Crane,” she muttered. “The eldest Crane boy.”
“Jaken’s up there?” Luke asked.
“He’s not alone, either,” she said. “It’s strange. It feels almost like . . .” Loki’s eyes widened. Suddenly, she turned and ran for the stairs that lead to the roof. Luke ran after her.
They ran up the steps, Loki slipping once. Luke helped her back on her feet and they broke through the door that separated them from some firefight. Four Chiss were carting the Draconic Prince in what looked like a very big net.
“Jaken!” She yelled, running at them. The Chiss ran, dragging Jaken along, climbing aboard a ship. Loki raised her hands and fired several handfuls of Force Fire at the hull. Nothing happened. It still rose. “NO!” Her voice trailed off in a yell that broke as she fell to her knees.
Jaken and the ship were gone.
3
Jaken’s eyes snapped open. He blinked twice to clear his vision, and he shut his eyes almost immediately. The room he was in was filled with an glaring red light that made his head throb. Jaken tried to stand, but found he couldn’t. He was seated in a metal chair. A metal chair that had no cushion of any kind on it. Pure shrapnel almost. In fact, a sharp pike felt like it was digging itself into his back. Jaken realized that the chair had nubs and prongs all over it.
Typical Chiss, he thought, bitterly. He tried to stand again. Something bit into his right wrist. His wrists were bound to the arms of the chair and his ankles to the legs of the chair. Jaken could barely wiggle in his seat, could barely fidget. He wasn’t going anywhere fast.
“Oh, sithspit,” he breathed. He tried to used the Force to make the binders pop open.
Jaken pulled away from the Force as if it had burned him. He threw his head back and thrashed. He had been sent reeling from a charge that came from his brain. Then he realized what lengths the Chiss had gone to to insure he didn’t get away. He was able to see the white, quarter-sized plastic disks attached to both of his temples in the two-way mirror ahead of him. These things were known around the galactic black market as Temps. They blocked a Force user’s mind by sending a painful shock directly into his or her brain.
No doubt they had a few Ysilimari around somewhere as well. Never too careful.
The doors hissed as they opened and three Chiss walked in from the entrance behind Jaken. He saw them in that mirror and scowled. An Aristocra and two soldiers.
“Sleep well, Your Majesty?” A Chiss Aristocra asked, circling him. Sithing perfect, Jaken thought. Another friendly face, another trip down memory lane.
“Let’s skip the bull s**t, Dahamora,” Jaken spat. The Chiss frowned.
“All business, I see,” he said. “Just like your father.” Jaken tried to hide his wince at being compared to his father. Instead he smirked, grimly.
“You Chiss must be very thick or very bold,” he said. “What do you have to gain by kidnaping the Heir to the Draconic Throne, besides a big-a** war on your hands?”
“Actually, we don’t want you,” Dahamora said. “We merely want that pretty little friend of yours.” The Chiss tickled Jaken’s chin and Jaken snapped at his hand, just barely missing a gaunt blue finger. The Chiss glared at him. “If you would rather us just get on with it, then let’s.”
“Yeah, let’s, Dahamora,” Jaken sneered. “You really think this flying garbage heap can hold me? Eldest Male Child of Kon ‘El, himself?” The Chiss smiled. That smile made Jaken’s blood run cold.
“Yes, we do,” he said. “At least until Meridean comes to your rescue, as we know she ultimately will..” Jaken tried to calm his heartbeat.
“What does Loki have to do with this?” He hissed. Dahamora gave him a rough backhand for his trouble. Jaken’s head lolled on his chest as he recovered, his cheek smarting.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Prince Jaken, because you are no more a Prince here than I am,” he said. “And, for future reference, we ask the questions.” Jaken glared.
“Tell me, damn you,” he snarled. “What do you want with Loki?”
Dahamora sighed.
“If you must know, the girl is wanted by Darth Revan,” he said, dully. Jaken’s head snapped up. What the hell? Darth Revan? Grand-Da? Grand-Da’s dead, you moronic Chiss!
“Revan? Revan is dead, you moron,” he said, thinking of his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. “He died over a millenia ago.” Now Dahamora and Kon had very similar strength when it came to beatings. Jaken was forced to remember when he was banished, but only after being publicly beaten by his own father. When Dahamora pulled back for another blow, Jaken couldn’t help but flinch, his mind darting back to that dark day, that painful memory. This was what Dahamora wanted. To psychologically break Jaken down.
“There is a new Darth Revan, child,” he said. “She is the granddaughter of the mighty Darth Revan of old.” Jaken looked at him as if he was stupid. Revan had no relation to Iris Revan and the galaxy knew it.
“I never thought the Chiss would be so dumb as to ally themselves with a Sith.”
“Since you will most likely not survive this,” he said, “I can tell you the plan in great detail. Right down to what we plan to do to the female Jedi Apprentices on Yavin who are over the age of sixteen and human.” Jaken blanched. Tril fit into that category. The Chiss hated the humans and acted as barbaric as possible with them. War prizes, they called them. Dahamora smiled evilly.
“Whatever you’re planing, it will fail,” Jaken said, quietly.
“Ah, but you do not even know it yet,” Dahamora said. “We will use you as the Empire used Solo to draw Skywalker out. Meridean will come and Lady Revan will kill her, slowly, and then, no one will stand in her way. The boy Meridean is weak and Skywalker is getting old. The Jedi will once again fall and Lady Revan will rule the galaxy under her Empire, as it should be. One, supreme ruler. Not some silly bureaucracy.”
“And if Revan turns on you after the plan goes through?” Jaken countered.
“That is why we have you,” Dahamora said, smiling. “We will get as much information from you about Draconia and the Draconic Nebula and Jenovia and its moons, which we will store away for later use, if you understand us.” Jaken smirked. His will would not be that easily broken. He was sure of it. “But, we’ll start with any information you have on Yavin IV.”
“Well, I’ll start at the beginning,” Jaken said. “My mother was an unfaithful queen, my father was a crazy alcoholic, and I was raised by abusive nannies.” This was all a lie, of course. Besides the fact that Kon was crazy. “My sister’s blind and my brothers tend to have horrible grudges against me.” Dahamora was not amused.
“Send it in,” he said, motioning to someone behind Jaken. The door hissed open again.
Jaken heard it before he saw it in the mirror. The trademark woo-woo-woo sound of an Imperial grade Interrogation Droid. It floated in so it was suspended in the air before him. A number of ghastly looking instruments were attacked to its black, almost-perfect circular form. Jaken stared it down, trying to quell his own fears and focus on Trilian. There had to be a way to contact Yavin and warn her. He had devoted his life to protecting her, and now he was helpless.
“Begin with electro-shock and we’ll work our way to the searing flesh pincers,” Dahamora said, moving to behind Jaken, who swallowed, but couldn’t keep his hands from shaking in their manacles. The Crown Prince bowed his head. This was not going to be pleasant.
4
Loki was pacing a rut in the floor of the hall outside Luke’s office, biting the nails on her left hand. A bad habit. The others were there as well, all looking very worried, but none more than Trilian. She tied back her sunny brown hair to keep it out of her face as she thought.
“What would the Chiss want with Crane anyway?” Constantine asked. He looked left then right and reached inside his black trench. He pulled out a pack of death-sticks, opened the package and swore. “Sithspit! Anybody got a f**? I need to take the edge off like you have no idea.” Surprisingly, Juniper pulled out a single and handed it to him. He lit it up and looked at the others. They were glaring. He swore again and ground it beneath his heel.
“I don’t know what the Chiss want with Jaken,” Nikolai said, skating over it. “But money says it ain’t anything good.” Kagome nodded. Fina wrung her hands.
The Crane girl was a sprite-like creature, all bones and sinew. Her silvery hair was recently died black by Aliea and Kagome in an effort to help her see darker colors easily. Her sight was getting better after all, aided by the Force.
“How do we remedy this situation?” She asked. Her brother, Riku, seemed not to care much. Typical Riku, actually. Loki ran her fingers through her hair.
“We go after them, that’s how,” Roki said, speaking up for the first time in a long time.
All eyes looked to him.
“Wait, go after him?” Vyse said. “I’m all for helping Jaken, but going after the Chiss is not the smartest thing in the galaxy to do. In fact, it’s re-tar-ded!”
Loki and Roki looked at each other.
The other members of the Sweet Sixteen knew that look.
“Oh no,” Rio said, standing up and pointing. “I’m not running all over the galaxy again.”
“It’s suicide!” Kagome exclaimed.
Tril stood and crossed the hall to gaze out the window. She was still thinking.
Roki and Loki smirked identical smirks. Nikolai threw his hands up in the air.
“Damn it! They’re stuck on the idea now!” He said. Loki and Roki faced their friends.
“Are you guys behind us or what?” Loki asked. No one said anything.
“I’m in.” They turned to the voice. Tril was looking out the window. She turned around.
“Me too,” Fina said, standing.
“Well, that’s four of us,” Roki said. “Not the best of teams, but at least we’ve got a shot.”
“Wait,” Aliea said. “If you’re all going to go get killed, I might as well come for the party.” Loki swept her gaze of the remaining members of the Sweet Sixteen.
“Five,” she said. Rio stood. “You joining?”
“No!” He said. “Can’t you see this whole idea is crazy!?” He looked at the others pleadingly. “We’ll all be killed. We can’t save Jaken and the rest of the Academy if we’re dead!” Nikolai stood up. “Oh, come on, Nik!” Nik shrugged.
“Why not? I could use a little excitement.” He said. He looked back at Connie and Juniper. “You two in?” They both stood. Constantine shrugged.
“Ain’t got nothing better to do,” he said. Juniper clasped his hand in hers.
“I want to save the Jaken,” she said, messing up her Basic. Loki put her hand on her hip and looked at Rio, pointedly.
“We’ve got eight now,” she said. “The ship hasn’t taken off yet, either.”
“I suppose I have to go,” Vyse said. “I can’t let Jaken and Fina get killed.” Loki smirked at Rio, a smirk that said, clearly, Nine now.
“The rest of you can’t be that stupid,” he said, looking to the others. Kagome bit her lip and stood. “Kagome!”
“What? It sounds like one hell of a way to die, anyway. Going out in glory and flames and all.” She said, joining the ranks. Xaqi stood.
“I’m in,” she said. Loki smirked. Xaqi was Dash’s daughter all the way. She thumped Riku in the chest with the back of her hand. “You coming?”
“Is Jaken worth saving?” He shot back. He caught glares from the rest of them and closed his mouth. After a tense moment, he stood. “I might as well. As long as I’m getting rewarded for this. Handsomely.” Loki rolled her eyes.
“I’ll make sure you get a medal,” she said. “How about you two?” Gabrielle and Max exchanged looks. The both jumped down from their chairs.
“Dur,” Max said. “Of course I’m coming. How could I pass up something like this?” Gabrielle didn’t have to say anything. She probably wouldn’t anyway.
“Now, wait a second!” Rio called to them as they made their way down the hall, towards the hangor. Loki looked back at him.
“Come on, Rio,” she said. “Think about it: Fortune and glory. The chance to be known as the one guy who took out a ship of Chiss. Tempting . . .”
Rio glared at her.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said.
“Come with us and make sure I don’t then,” she said. Rio rolled his eyes and ran to catch up with them. “Knew you’d come.”
“Oh, shut up,” he said. “Let’s just save Crane and go. You know we’ll probably get expelled for this, right?” Loki shrugged.
“Not my loss,” she said. “Now, to the ships!” They set off at a run. Loki and Rio ran side by side. “I figure,” she said, between breaths. “We take the biggest ship they got. That way, we’ve got no chance of scattering under fire.”
“I think I know where this is going,” he said. Loki smiled.
“You’ve got the ignition codes?”
“Does Tatooine got sand?”
5
It took several hours of Jaken’s screaming to convince the Chiss that he knew nothing. And besides, he wouldn’t betray his own planet, or Loki’s, for that matter. He was dragged back to a small cell and dumped there, laying crumpled on the metal floor.
Once the door was shut, Jaken opened his eyes. If there was such as thing as good luck, the Chiss bought his story and act. It had taken a lot out of him, but he had been able to force enough power up from the surface to counteract the pain of the Interrogation Droid. He was thrashing around enough for them not to notice the thrashing brought on from the Temps.
The idiots had even left the stupid things on, he thought. He figured there was cameras on him, so he moved slowly, dragging himself to a small cot and climbing on it halfway, so his back faced the door. The cameras were there anyway, so Jaken could do his work in private. Making sure he laid in such a fashion that he right hand was next to his Temp, he gently peeled the thing off. Now it was just a matter of time for him to peel the two parts open and take out the circuitry. It was slow and tedious work, but Jaken had time on his hands. He was also working on his escape plan.
There was also the fact that his pain in the Force might’ve already brought his capture to Meridean’s attention. If she came barging in, it would only serve the Chiss’s purpose. He hoped he had blocked the pain sufficiently enough to negate Meridean’s feeling it. There! He thought, finishing the first Temp. He replaced it and stuck it back on just in time for the doors to open. He was seized under the arms and dragged out of the cell again. He struggled feebly at first then went limp. It was better for him to put up a small show for his captors.
“Where are you taking me?” He rasped, slurring his words.
“To Lady Revan,” one guard replied roughly. “And you better be on your best behavior or Dahamora will dissect you himself.” Jaken remained silent as they dragged him to Revan’s throne room. He needed time to think about what to do while he was there. If he would have to fight her, it would be nearly useless. He still had one working Temp. It’d be like fighting with one arm.
One arm . . .
She wants information on Loki, he thought.
Finally, they were there. The guards dumped Jaken at the foot of a small set of stairs, leading to a landing and a high-backed throne that overlooked a large view-port. Jaken pulled himself to his feet, stumbling to the left slightly, before he stood straightly. He looked around the throne room now, aware of the blasters trained on him.
“Done in true Palpatine style, Revan,” he spat. The chair turned and there she sat, reminiscent in an all black gown with a large plumed color and black elbow gloves. Her long, straight black hair was down her back and she wore a shiny black lipstick on her thin lips.
“Ah, Crown Prince Jaken Crane,” she purred. “Heir to Kon ‘El’s thrown.” Jaken glared at her. “Oh, that look does not suit you, dear.”
“A pile of Bantha s**t would suit you just fine,” Jaken snapped. He pointed a finger at he in warning. “Listen Revan, I don’t know what you ever wanted with me, but if this goes on any farther, you’ll have a full scale Draconic war on your hands.” Revan continued to smile, alluring-ly. “I’ll give you your one chance now. Release me and chart a course for as far away from Draconia as possible. If you decide to keep me, the entire Navy will be alarmed to the situation and attack your Destroyer.”
“With you on board?” Revan asked, curiously.
“There are other Cranes to carry on the dynasty.” Jaken replied, ready to remember his lessons as a Prince. “You really believe you can win?” Revan smiled.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “My goodness, Jaken dear, you look like you’ve taken quite a beating.” Jaken was vaguely aware his old wounds had begun to seep again. “Now, back to my plans. You see, darling, the Jedi are very sure they have everything under control. My, but they’re wrong. They learned that when the Meridean girl almost died.”
“You keep Lokina out of this,” he hissed.
“I forgot what a soft spot you have for the Princess,” Revan replied silkily. “Don’t worry. As soon as she gallivants in here to save the day, she’ll be shot dead.” Jaken blinked. He didn’t want Loki dead.
“You’re insane,” he said, grasping at straws. “You can’t hope to ever beat Lokina in anything. She’ll always be one shelf above you.” Jaken took a shaky step towards the throne. “She’ll always be faster, younger, smarter, a better Force user . . . ” Jaken smirked. “And she’ll always be prettier than you.” Jaken was sent sprawling by Xinix’s back hand. He lay there, trying to regain his senses. That last one really hurt, he thought. Jaken struggled to get to his feet from where he lay on his stomach.
“Guards,” Revan said. “Take Prince Jaken back to his cell. But first, make sure there’s a holo-projector in there. I want him to witness Meridean’s death. Afterwards, we will decide am appropriate method of death beffiting him.” Jaken didn’t argue as he was dragged away.
They had started a war.
And the ones he loved were in the middle of it.
6
Luke was furious at his apprentice. Just as he, Mara, and Han emerged from his office, they find that every last one of her friends and herself are missing. Fifteen students just up and gone! He thought, bitterly. Apparently, Loki was an excellent recruiter . . .
Han was raving mad about something similar. They had stolen the Falcon.
Now they were in the Shadow following the Falcon’s ion trail. Han fumed while Luke and Mara tried to cut the situation like they did before.
“Well, it’s obvious they went after Jaken.” Mara said.
“But why?” Luke asked. “What compelled them to do this?”
“What compelled them to steal the Falcon?!” Han shouted from the back. Mara skimmed over the outburst.
“Fina and Riku are his family. Vyse is his best friend. Trilian had a relationship with him,” she said.
“Yes, but that’s only four students,” Luke said. “What about the other eleven?”
“Loki convinced them to come along,” Mara said. “You said that she and Jaken used to have a relationship, as she put it, ‘way back.’ What if she went back to repay a debt, or to make sure her best friend doesn’t die? Sounds like Loki.”
Luke sat in contemplation for a long time. His mind raced over the past few hours’ events. He knew the Chiss had kidnaped Jaken, but why? Sure, the ransom for a Draconic Prince was always worth a few million credits, but the Chiss never seemed so petty to stoop that low.
“Wait!” He said, connecting a few dots. “The Chiss attacked us when we were trying to find Loki the first time!” Mara’s eyes widened.
“They were looking for the Sith Lord,” she said. “You don’t think . . . ?”
“They found her,” Luke completed grimly. “They’re using Jaken as bait to get Loki to come to them.”
“And she did,” Mara said. “We’ve got to warn her.”
“Good luck,” Han said. “They’ve got a head start and the—”
“Fastest ship in the galaxy,” Mara and Luke said together.
“There has to be some way,” Luke said.
“There is,” Mara said. “You’re bond with Loki. Try contacting her.”
“I’ve tried,” Luke said. “Soara Antana said that it would come in handy if I did, but Loki’s blocking me. Or ignoring me. Either way, I’m not getting a response on her end.”
“She’s flying into a trap,” Mara said.
“I know,” Luke said. “I lost her once, I’m not going to let it happen again.”
7
The Falcon was the fastest ship in the galaxy, doing the Kessel run in just under the record time. The old YT-1300 was still in great condition too. There was still the matter of seating however. Sure, four in the cockpit, maybe six in the lounge, and another two in the gun turrets, but they had 15 onboard a ship that sat a maximum of maybe 12. Luckily, Gaby and Max were small enough to sit on one seat together and Juniper was skinny enough to not mind laying on the shelf right above the seating in the lounge.
Loki, Rio, Roki, and Aliea were in the cockpit.
“Nav computer,” Loki said. “Chart a course for Endor.”
“Are you sure that’s where they are?” Rio asked. Loki’s eyes darkened.
“I can feel it,” she said. Revan had wanted a war. Loki was going to bring it to her. This woman was slowly dredging through all of the mud Loki had cleaned off herself in the past few years. She was the Emperor’s confidant, spying on Vader, acting like she was some harem girl. Then she comes back, making Loki remember. Then she steals away her brother’s innocence, turning him to the Dark Side, changing him forever. Now she had Jaken. This war had to end.
 Blakaize · Tue May 20, 2008 @ 12:34am · 1 Comments |
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