The Foundation of All Desire

[bright_ephemera]

Ahh, intrigue! It's so nice to see someone acknowledge potential bad effects of any kind of poison. No such thing as a 100% safe dosage on a patient you just met. Can't wait to see who she wakes up to.

[Lunafox]

Ahh, intrigue! It's so nice to see someone acknowledge potential bad effects of any kind of poison. No such thing as a 100% safe dosage on a patient you just met. Can't wait to see who she wakes up to.

 

Glad you liked it. Figured gotta have some intrigue, especially when more of the SIS are coming into play! She woke up to Doc this time, but only in a professional capacity.

[Charmedseed]

This explains so much! Sweet, sweet satisfaction in knowing things! Lol!

 

You caught Theron perfectly, too. Can't wait!

[Lunafox]

This explains so much! Sweet, sweet satisfaction in knowing things! Lol!

 

You caught Theron perfectly, too. Can't wait!

 

I had a lot of fun writing that little backstory bit for Liatrix. I had a feeling you would enjoy seeing her as a little girl. And what a happy, demanding spoiled little thing she was...

 

I'm also glad you enjoyed Theron. He's good fun, that one.

[Lialu]

Thank you for this great story! Eagerly anticipating more!

[Lunafox]

Thank you for this great story! Eagerly anticipating more!

 

And thank you for making my day!

[Lunafox]

The Foundation of All Desire (Part 16)

 

“It’s time Master Liatrix. Don’t worry, it’ll be all right.” Ambassador Jannik’s calm, steady voice allayed her uncertainty.

 

Three years had passed since she’d seen him last. He was just as she remembered—attractive, energetic and well spoken, but his years of duty on Voss, had earned him the distinguished maturity of someone much older.

 

“If you say so.” Liatrix murmured.

 

“I do.” He rested his hand over her shoulder. “Just remember what we talked about. No outbursts, or obvious upset. Say nothing unless you’re asked directly, and then restrict your answers to the shortest response you can. We’ll get through this together. We’ve been through worse.”

 

“I know. I’ll do my best. Thanks again for agreeing to defend me.”

 

“I told you once that I’d come running if you ever needed me. After what you did on Voss for me, it’s the least I can do for you. Here we go…”

 

The circular hydraulic platform vibrated under their feet, as it began its ascent into the Senate Trial Chamber.

The platform had no railing or seating. It was designed to be uncomfortable, and it was designed to instill a feeling of hopelessness.

 

The platform emerged through the iris and traveled high above the shiny tiled floor of the Trial Chamber. Liatrix felt the air current shift as they neared the gallery. There were no windows, and the space was gray, cold and austere. She didn’t need to see the sky to know it was raining.

 

She’d always found the rain soothing, and allowed herself a moment of indulgence before the peace gave way to the unsettled energy of those arriving for the trial.

 

Ambassador Jannik stepped from the defendant’s platform to the defense box and set about organizing his notes. Liatrix continued upwards, the platform finally coming to a halt before the uppermost gallery.

 

Even though she couldn’t see anyone in the shadowy alcoves above her, she could sense their presence—members of the Jedi Council, including Grand Master Satele, Bela Kiwiiks, Gnost-Dural and several others she hadn’t met in person yet. There were a handful of Senators, as well as representatives from the SIS, including the Director, Markus Trant.

 

The only light in the chamber, was the one directly above her, its harsh white-blue beam, forming a column around her. The heavy entrance doors below, squeaked at close intervals as more arrived.

 

Senior Agent Zane slid in behind Balkar and leaned forward to whisper. “It’s not too late. Testify against the Jedi, and I’ll make sure you keep your job. Help me finish her off.”

 

Balkar turned and glared daggers at the man. “I’m not gonna to sell her out. Forget it.”

 

“I know what you’re up to. Not sure how you pulled it off, but it won’t save her and it sure as hell won’t save you.”

 

“I said no.” Balkar growled.

 

“If that’s the way you want it. But know this Balkar, I’m going to nail you to the wall.”

 

“You can try.” Balkar chuckled mirthlessly and rose to sit as far away from Zane as the witness box would allow.

 

Liatrix closed her eyes, and meditated. She felt familiar energies collecting below. Somewhere in the darkness, she felt Kira, Doc, and Rusk, but not Scourge. Kira had mentioned his statements were coming via holo and that T-7 would be transmitting the trial for him. Lord Praven and Unaw Aharo filed in next and took their seats with the crew.

 

She sensed a surge of anger from Balkar, and then the reason for it—Senior Agent Zane. A triad of chimes sounded, heralding the start of the proceedings, and the heavy doors closed with an ominous thud.

 

Supreme Chancellor Leontyne Saresh emerged from one of the darkened alcoves above. An amplifying sphere dangled just above her head.

 

“Master Liatrix. You have been charged with the murder of Jedi knight Jomar Chul, impeding an official SIS investigation, assaulting an SIS agent, eleven counts of civil liberties violations against the Gamorrean colony of Vzer, unauthorized incursion on enemy soil, as well as several counts of environmental destruction, collusion, and breaching the Jedi Code and Republic law. This court will decide your fate. The prosecution may open.”

 

The enormous vid screens facing each gallery of the court flickered to life and focussed on the prosecution box.

 

The Chagrian prosecutor, Arun Sul emerged from the darkness and began his opening statement.

 

“The defense will try to distract you with talk of heroics, medals, commendations and great achievements this Jedi has achieved in battle, but I ask you to look past these facts, to a darker truth…that even the greatest can fall, and turn into something unsavory…”

 

*****

 

Theron waited until he was outside the hospital to open the toxicology results.

 

Better be worth the wait, he thought.

 

The lab had taken the entire week to complete the blood work and tox screen. To make matters worse, the hospital refused to send the evidence via secured electronic mail, necessitating a physical pick up. He would have preferred to have access to the material days ago.

Too late for that now.

 

He straddled his Aratech Ghost and flipped through the pages.

 

The patient’s unusual genetic composition, consisting of a pheromonic trait, most likely inherited from an enhanced parent resulted in a severe reaction to the SIS substance introduced via custom toxic dart to the patient’s bloodstream.

Pheromones secreted by the patient were in direct conflict with a secondary component of the dart, a compound derived from Santherian tenho root. The root compound has a profoundly alarming effect on any species with adaptive pheromonic ability. In high concentrations as indicated in the results, it is extremely dangerous and potentially fatal to Falleen, Zeltron, and humanoids with enhanced genetic structure, as in the patient’s case.

 

Theron frowned and stuffed the document into his coat.

Toxicity 3 doesn’t contain Santherian tenho root compounds.

 

He muttered a string of High Gamorrese curses under his breath and checked the time.

 

Court should be in session…it’s now or never.

 

He jumped the Ghost to a growling start and tore out of the parking lot and into the airway.

 

*****

 

Prosecutor Arun Sul’s platform rose higher, hovering next to the giant vid screen on the northern side.

 

“Ladies, gentleman, and gentlebeings, you have just witnessed the cold-blooded murder of Jedi Knight Jomar Chul, captured on this SIS vid recording with your own eyes. I have presented you with receipts proving Master Liatrix chartered a BT-7 Thunderclap at Coruscant, copies of the ship’s nava logs, proving that she went to Vzer to capture the Gamorrean force users she was tasked with bringing to Tython safely, and an unauthorized trip to Korriban.”

 

“I have presented to you statements from the Intergalactic Banking Clan, showing that a large amount of credits were withdrawn from her personal accounts shortly afterward the Korriban incursion. It is believed these credits were payment to smuggler Captain Gwanshoo who assisted in her crimes, and is currently at large.”

 

“Master Liatrix’s explanations and those of her crew are insufficient, in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. If this evidence is not enough to convince you the Jedi is guilty of all charges against her, then perhaps, this footage will be enough to convince you, that this folks, is no Jedi.”

 

The prosecutor depressed the remote in his hand and looked to the vid screen at a barely dressed Liatrix and Scourge.

Her breathy voice rang out in the chamber, “…I’m not worried about my husband right now. I love you. I need you. I want you.”

 

Liatrix’s head snapped up, her eyes wide.

 

These were destroyed…Jonas’s…database…he wouldn’t have. Zane that bastard, she thought.

 

Her eyes narrowed. She sensed the Senior Agent’s smug triumph lifting higher like a bad smell. The court erupted, several angry voices shouting at once.

 

“I object!” Ambassador Jannik shouted. “This footage is irrelevant to the charges!”

 

“Zane! You sonovabish” Balkar roared. “You sliced my records!”

 

“It’s SIS property Balkar. I had to get to the truth. It wasn’t like you were going to do it, we both know why. You’re obsessed with the Jedi.”

 

Balkar cranked his arm back, aiming for Zane, but lost his balance when a force came at him from behind.

 

Doc was on his feet and across the aisle before Rusk and Kira could hold him back. He dove into Balkar’s box, knocking the agent forward. They traded punches and curses until they fell out of the box, continuing the fistfight in the aisle. Lord Praven and Unaw Aharo moved in to separate the men.

 

Disheveled and growling, the pair pulled against their restrainers to go at each other again, before being yanked back to their respective seats. Zane stood back placidly watching the brawl, with his arms crossed. The corner of his lip curled up.

 

“I object! This is outrageous!” Ambassador Jannik turned toward the gallery.

 

Supreme Chancellor Saresh stood. “Order! I demand order in the chamber! Bailiffs, kindly restore order to this court immediately. This will not be tolerated. You will cease your hostilities gentlemen or find yourselves in contempt of this court. Is that clear?”

 

Balkar panted and dabbed at the blood oozing from his lower lip. He nodded grudgingly and sat down.

 

Rusk and Lord Praven pulled Doc back to his seat. He thrashed, trying to wriggle free. A dark half-moon was already forming under Doc’s left eye. “You left me for him? The Sith? How could you?” Doc shouted. “That’s why you couldn’t tell me!”

 

“That’s enough Dr. Kimble. This is your final warning.” Saresh said.

 

Jannik threw down his data pad. “Supreme Chancellor, none of this is relevant to the charges. I demand it be stricken from the record.”

 

The Chagrian countered. “I’m merely defining the defendant’s character, credibility and state of mind, Supreme Chancellor.”

 

“I’ll allow it. Request denied Ambassador.” Saresh announced.

 

Ambassador Jannik huffed a deep breath and shook his head.

 

Liatrix’s fingers curled into tight fists, her nails digging into her palm. She clenched her jaw and peered up at the passionate exchange between her and Lord Scourge. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt a nettlesome heat burn her cheeks. She cast her gaze to the platform. These words were meant only for Scourge. She felt sick and winced.

 

Doc…please forgive me, she thought.

 

She swallowed hard and bit at the inside of her lip. As the vid played on, she closed her eyes, envisioning a protective wall against the swell of anger, confusion and pain surrounding her. She hated the amplified sound of her own voice, and the degrading spin the prosecution had inflicted on what was never to be a public moment. The time she and Scourge had shared passed so much more quickly than the record of it. She felt as if it would never end. On and on it came, relentless and damning.

 

“We just need to do the ritual again. We need to disperse your pain even more. The city wasn’t enough. We need a planet. That should do it…perhaps even this one. Millions live here. Look how far we got this time.”

 

“Perhaps, I should simply call you, My Lord Emperor, from now on. Don’t pout Jedi. It was a compliment. Think of all you could do as Emperor.”

 

Liatrix felt her body tighten and her insides shake. She felt as if she had been stripped and laid bare for judgment. She felt herself waiver on the platform. It had been hours. The Jedi council sat in stony silence. The only one she could easily read was Master Kiwiiks who seemed to alternate between compassion and worry. She reached out towards Grand Master Satele but was met with an impenetrable wall of calm.

 

The prosecutor raised his voice over the hissing whispers circulating through the chamber. “I also have a statement from Asani Ren, a handmaiden of House Organa, stating that Agent Balkar and the Master Liatrix had intimate relations during the several nights they spent together as guests of the Organas, for whom the Jedi serves as a paladin.”

 

Arun Sul lifted the affidavit over his head and waved it at the gallery like a flag. “On that note, the prosecution rests.”

 

The Chagrian lifted his chin, his icy grey gaze fixed on Ambassador Jannik in silent challenge.

 

Doc jumped out of his chair, only to be yanked down hard by Kira and Rusk. “Stop it. All we need is for you to get locked up. I can only persuade them to let you go so many times…before it won’t work anymore.” Kira hissed.

 

“Master Kira is right. We need to remain cohesive, no matter what.” Rusk stared matter-of-factly at Doc, his steely gaze implying much more than he said. Doc snarled and folded his arms.

 

Ambassador Jannik’s platform rose higher to oppose the prosecutor and the Supreme Chancellor.

 

“For mercy’s sake, I move for a recess. My client needs a moment, as does the court.”

 

Supreme Chancellor Saresh nodded once. “Recess granted. We will reconvene in one hour.”

 

The platform began its descent into the holding chamber. Liatrix’s gaze landed on Doc before the floor swallowed her.

“I’m so sorry,” she mouthed.

 

*****

 

Theron pulled into a back alley and stowed his speeder behind the dumpster. He reached up and pulled down the rickety metal ladder that led to the upper floors of the building. He jogged across the rooftop and then picked up speed to jump the narrow chasm between buildings.

 

Landing in a crouch, he took in the layout of the roof. Three security cameras pointed down at the entrance and street, and a doorman held up the wall of the neighboring building. He looked up at the top floor and licked at his lower lip as he considered his approach.

 

He pulled the grappling gun from his belt and aimed high for the rooftop ledge. When the hook chewed its way into a hold, Theron tested his weight on the line and swung forward. At the last moment, he kicked out to soften his impact against the wall.

 

Reeling himself up bit by bit, a darkened window caught his eye. Using his hand as a visor against the reflection in the glass, he peered into the empty apartment. “This’ll do nicely.”

 

Master Zho had teased him many times about his seeming inability to use a perfectly good door if there was a window available. The memory filled Theron with a sad fondness for the Jedi who raised him as his own. He pushed the memory away and applied pressure to the window’s weak points to pop it open.

 

Ah success. His lip edged up at the corner and his reflection gazed back at him impishly. He swung inside the empty apartment and winced at the smell.

 

Someone had a dozen too many Nekarr cats.

 

He noticed some of the flooring was already in the process of being pulled up and wall surfacing equipment was piled up against the far wall. He pulled on a pair of maintenance coveralls and a cap, a workman had left behind. Shutting the window behind him, he crept to the front door and peered out. Seeing no one, he took the elevator to the tenth floor. He looked up at the elevator’s ceiling, noting the standard emergency hatch, and where the control panel was—out of habit. The chime sounded, and Theron slipped out onto the tenth floor. Prowling the hall, he paused in front of door numbered 1032.

 

“Retinal image Zeta,” he whispered. Leaning in, he allowed the scanner to read his implant’s projection of Zane’s eye.

 

The light in the entry panel shifted from red to green, and a soft click told him he was in. He paused just inside the door, checking for security cameras.

 

Aha…

 

Several moments later he’d recorded the empty room, and looped it into the camera.

 

And I was never here…

 

He glanced around at the apartment and shook his head. Modern permacrete fireplace, wampa rug…all the best tech, and Theron guessed his pride and joy, a rare and expensive painting over the mantel, he recognized as The Slaughter of the Innocents…

 

He leaned over Zane’s state of the art computer desk and pulled out a data spike. He was about to insert it when the door latch popped open.

Can’t be Zane…not yet.

 

Pocketing the spike, he winced. There was no place to hide, and he wasn’t about to hurl himself out a tenth story window, no matter how tempting at this point. Snatching up a stylus and data pad, he stood back, as if considering the floor plan.

 

A man wearing brown hooded robes slipped inside. His furtive manner and pale yellow eyes suggested he was no Jedi.

 

Theron tugged his cap down lower. “Dex, I hope you brought your measuring scanner, I left mine—Oh hello, you’re not Dex. Can I help you Master Jedi?” He called out.

 

The robed man eyed Theron intently and then waved his hand. “You don’t need to be here. You should leave and forget all about this.”

 

Theron nodded slowly and stared straight ahead. “I don’t need to be here. I should leave and forget all about this...” He murmured vacuously and ambled out into the hall. His jaw tightened as he started for the roof.

 

The hell I will.

 

((To be continued…))

Edited July 6, 2016 by Lunafox

[frauzet]

By now I am actually looking foward to Mondays

[Charmedseed]

Oooo, I actually felt sick when that footage went up! Zane's a dirty bastard.

 

And Theron continues to be ridiculously clever. =)

[Lunafox]

Oooo, I actually felt sick when that footage went up! Zane's a dirty bastard.

 

And Theron continues to be ridiculously clever. =)

 

I was hoping you'd say that I really wanted it to come across as demeaning and violating. Zane is horrid lol, and Theron continues to be fun to write for. A real challenge, but fun.

 

 

By now I am actually looking foward to Mondays

 

Thanks so much! I never dreamt I'd help make a Monday better

[DougTbx]

Zane is a bastard, course the truly awful thing is he hasn't actually lied about anything yet, and while the last bit could be argued was meant to inflame the court and prejudice them it does show how far outside of behavior for a Jedi she's been going.

[Lunafox]

Zane is a bastard, course the truly awful thing is he hasn't actually lied about anything yet, and while the last bit could be argued was meant to inflame the court and prejudice them it does show how far outside of behavior for a Jedi she's been going.

 

Indeed, that vid is more damning than anything else, cause it shows whats underneath the 'image' and the prosecution knew that. Most of the other elements can be argued...even the video and it's purpose can be argued, but seeing such an intimate disclosure on a jumbotron is the epitome of damaging to her/her case. Like people say, 'what has been seen, cannot be unseen.'

[Lunafox]

The Foundation of All Desire (Part 17)

 

Ambassador Jannik pushed the lunch tray closer to Liatrix. “Eat something. Please.”

 

“It’s all over, isn’t it? No one’s ever going to forget that.” She leaned forward on the table, holding her head between her hands. “I should have told Doc before…I never thought it would come out like this. I never thought it would come out at all. And Scourge…what he must be thinking…and The Order.” She felt the blood drain from her face and took a staggered breath.

 

“Don’t do this to yourself. There’s still hope.” He set his hand over hers. “You’re like ice.” He shrugged out of his outer robe and nestled it over her shoulders.

 

She straightened and rubbed at the center of her forehead. “What’s going to happen to me?” Tears winked over her lashes.

 

“Nothing, if I can help it. Look, I won’t lie to you. It won’t be easy to make them forget…that.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve done before, that’s all they’ll remember.”

 

Liatrix steepled her hands against the lower half of her face.

 

“I’ll do everything in my power to get you acquitted. I promise you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Now eat. There isn’t much time.”

 

*****

 

Theron wriggled forward on his elbows through the dimly lit maintenance crawlspace. He shivered from the cold seeping through his clothes. A cramp lanced down his calf to his foot, threatening to splay his toes in painful directions if he didn’t shift position soon.

 

Have to be patient…

 

He breathed deeply to clear his mind of any thoughts that might betray his presence, a Jedi skill that had served him well over the years. “Illuminate floor schematic section 1032.” He murmured.

 

He paused to study the layout and turned at the next intersection point and paused at the climate control and ventilation grid that serviced Zane’s apartment. Peering through the grid, he watched the fake Jedi pace. Tugging back his cuff, the man checked the time.

 

“This is ridiculous, making me wait.” The fake Jedi hissed and pulled out his holocom.

 

“Clear schematic. Enhance and record view range,” Theron whispered. His implant whirred to life, the super-imposed lens zooming in on the man and his holocom. The fake Jedi tapped in a code to secure the line before dialing out.

 

“Zane here.”

 

“Can you talk?”

 

“For now.”

 

“Where the hell are you?”

 

“Still at the Senate. Too many damn eyes on me.”

 

“You screw up again, and it’s both our necks.”

 

“Again?”

 

“That stunt you pulled with the Jedi almost cost us everything. DEAR has to be a go today, or we lose our chance.”

 

“Change in plan. You can still salvage this…”

 

“I can’t believe you’re pushing this off on me.”

 

“Do you want to explain to him, why the plan failed?”

 

The fake Jedi hesitated.

 

“I didn’t think so. Zane out.”

 

The fake Jedi snarled and smashed his fist on the table. A string of muttered curses followed.

 

Whatever they’re up to, I have to stop it, Theron thought.

 

He pressed his bracer to the grate and lined it up between the slats. Zane’s accomplice seethed and paced, and Theron waited for his chance.

 

“Toxicity 10,” he whispered. The dart cut across the room, zinging just past the fake Jedi and sticking into one of the chesterfield cushions. A dark stain spread across the cushion material. Theron ran his palm over his face.

 

Dammit.

 

“Save target vitals,” Theron muttered under his breath and started to edge backward, in case the fake Jedi looked up or noticed the cushion. The sound of footfalls circling below, and then movement toward the door reached Theron’s ear piece. The door made a sucking sound as it closed, followed by the bleep of the security system kicking in. The fake Jedi was on the move.

 

Theron shimmied backward until he reached the ventilation grate for the apartment three doors down. “Scan for occupants.” His HUD flashed, giving him the go ahead. He braced against the back wall of the crawlspace and kicked in the grate. Theron winced, expecting to hear a clatter, but was met with a soft plopping sound instead. The grate cover landed square on the tenant’s bed, squashing a stuffed toy ginx into a flatcake. Theron glanced around at the pink toy-filled room and tugged the ginx out from under the grate and fluffed it up.

 

He shucked the maintenance coveralls, rolled them into a ball and hefted them up into the crawlspace. His HUD flashed a warning: Occupancy increased by two.

 

Shifting his gaze he dove toward the window and whipped open the sash. “Engage auto pilot. Retrieval on my mark.”

 

His gaze shot toward the door, the sound of light shuffling steps coming his way.

 

Theron shoved himself through the window and perched on the ledge. Not a minute too soon, his custom Aratech Ghost hovered before him. He pushed off and landed straddling the speeder. He squinted at the rain biting at his face and eyes.

 

“Navigation overlay, indicate saved target location.” Theron mounted the speeder and studied the superimposed map. A pink dot tracked around the south side of the building and started to pick up speed. Theron arced upwards to join the stream of traffic in the congested lane overhead and waited for the fake Jedi to make his move.

 

“Dial Satele Shan.” The com trilled over and over in his earpiece and then stopped.

 

“The customer you are trying to reach is not available. You may leave a voice message or try again later…”

 

“Satele, call me ASAP. It’s Theron. End message. Dial Marcus Trant.”

 

The metallic tones of the automated response system answered again. He bit down twice to disconnect the call.

Trial must be still in session.

 

Seeing the target swoop upwards to join the fast lane, Theron pulled on a pair of water-proof flight goggles. He gave him a healthy head start and then accelerated.

His brows furrowed as something occurred to him.

 

Satele, Trant, the Jedi Council and the Supreme Chancellor…all together in one convenient location.

 

*****

 

Ambassador Jannik’s platform hovered next to the vid screen.

 

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and Gentlebeings. Earlier, the prosecution shared with you all, a very skewed story—a sensationalized story, about a hero, her rise to power, followed by a calamitous fall. A fascinating story to be sure. However, we’re not here to listen to stories. We are here for the facts—we are here for the truth.”

 

“The prosecution showed you excerpts out of context to manipulate your opinion. I direct your attention to what really happened.” Jannik nodded toward the screen and pressed the remote.

 

“Master Liatrix, attempted to convince the late Jomar Chul no less than four times to surrender peacefully, as we see here. Even after the defendant learned that most of the recent attempts on her life were perpetrated by the deceased, she laid down her weapons and begged assistance for the injured.”

 

Liatrix’s voice echoed in the chamber. On screen, she calmly confronted the Zabrak Jedi, and laid down her weapons.

“Listen to me Jomar. Scourge and Agent Balkar need help. Don’t let them die. I’m begging you.”

“No. They’re in league with you, so they die with you.”

 

Jannik tapped the remote and froze on the Zabrak’s snarling image.

 

“As you can see, the deceased had lost his way, to the point of madness. He endangered the lives of countless citizens, including Master Liatrix, their mutual friend Leeha Narezz, as well as Agent Jonas Balkar, and Lord Scourge. As you can see on this footage, the damage inflicted at the Belsavis prison, was the doing of the deceased. The evidence dictates the charges set in the cave on Hutta, were also the work of the deceased. He confessed to several attempts on the defendant’s life. Master Liatrix had no choice but to defend herself.”

 

Ambassador Jannik took a moment to glance about the chamber, before continuing. The faces were difficult to make out from his vantage point, but the chamber was more silent than when it was empty. At least they were listening. At least there were no distractions.

 

“I also wish to direct your attention to the statements of Master Liatrix and her crew, regarding the Gamorrean force sensitives on Vzer. She was indeed tasked with locating them, and delivering them to Tython, where they currently live and thrive under the tutelage of their Masters. Master Liatrix managed to do precisely as she was asked by The Council. Fulfilling the mission, was not easy. Upon her arrival on Vzer, Master Liatrix discovered that a Sith had already captured the colony.”

 

“She gave chase, following the Sith to Korriban. Master Liatrix summoned her crew from their leave for back up. She engaged and defeated the Sith despite great personal injury. Her crew arrived to rescue her from Korriban, as well as the Gamorreans so that the mission could be completed. Regrettably, we do not know what the Sith might have done to the colony prior to their capture.”

 

“I don’t think I need remind those present of what the Sith are capable of in terms of mental and physical torment. No doubt this would explain any confusion the Gamorreans experienced after they were released from the carbonite. Master Liatrix and her crew went far beyond their duty to deliver the colony safely to Tython.”

 

“As for the disbursement of Master Liatrix’s personal funds post-mission, I am providing an itemized accounting, including repairs, various fees, and the crew’s expenses incurred on leave. While a thorough accounting is being provided for perusal, I must remind that these expenses were not deemed the responsibility of the Jedi Order, and no accounting should be necessary unless Council funds were used without permission, which they were not.”

 

“I’m sure I don’t need to emphasize any further, the day to day stresses and dangers of being a Jedi, let alone one of Master Liatrix’s rank and position. Every day she faces the possibility of being targeted by the vengeful, as in the case of Darth Creant. Every day, she faces the possibility that day could be her last. Jedi are not infallible, nor should we expect them to be. Should they be held accountable? Yes, and Master Liatrix met that requirement when it was safe for her to do so.”

 

She has served the Jedi Council and the Republic Military with distinction. The medals and commendations she has received, speak to us of her successes. Because of Master Liatrix’s efforts, we are all that much safer from our enemy. Thank you Ladies, Gentleman, and Gentlebeings. The decision now rests with you.”

 

Supreme Chancellor Saresh stood. “Thank you Ambassador Jannik. I would like to remind those present, that the onus is on the prosecution to prove beyond all doubt the charges against the defendant. If any doubt exists as to the defendant’s guilt, a verdict of not-guilty must be returned. The session is adjourned for deliberation and judgment. You stand excused.”

 

Liatrix glanced over at Ambassador Jannik and then up at Saresh. She felt the platform begin its descent. Her vision hazed and she reached out to keep her balance. She scanned the boxes for familiar faces, but instead of seeing faces, she saw featureless blanks as if everyone and everything around her was slowly being erased. The walls melted.

 

Liatrix rubbed at the center of her forehead, and shook her head before the floor iris swallowed her.

Kira’s brows met. “Something’s wrong.” She scrambled over Doc and Rusk to get to the aisle. Lord Praven and Unaw Aharo exchanged puzzled looks. Doc shrugged his answer.

 

*****

 

The pink dot on Theron’s display flashed two miles ahead of his location and then vanished from the HUD. He tapped twice at his temple and scowled when nothing changed. Something was interfering with the signal. The traffic began to slow on all sides, and Theron craned his head to see around the vehicle in front of him. To make matters worse, the rain came down in half frozen biting sheets. Each pellet felt like a tiny razor against his exposed face. The reason for the backed up mess came into view.

 

A malfunctioning super transport carrying liquid fuel blocked all lanes, as it struggled to keep hovering. The back end fishtailed, black smoke and sparks shooting out from the undercarriage. As he neared, he saw scorch marks, marring the body, and a magnetic detonator ball clinging to the hull.

He must be onto me…

 

Panicked and afraid, speeders shot out at odd angles from the skyway, trying to escape their proximity to the freighter.

 

Theron swore when one of them nearly collided with his Ghost. He swung into the service lane, narrowly missing the incoming emergency vehicles arriving at the scene. Sirens wailed and he dropped lower to the next tier of traffic, weaving from lane to lane to put distance between him and the struggling transport. More emergency vehicles streaked by.

 

He’s not onto me…he’s diverting emergency services…

 

*****

 

Zane turned up his wrist to check the time. He pushed through the crowd toward the heavy double doors that opened to the grand hall of the senate building. He crossed the glossy floor with a determined confident gate. His gaze darted from face to face with practiced nonchalance as he passed. He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers curling around the small cylindrical remote he carried. The metal was cool against his palm, and his thumb brushed over the recessed button.

 

The remote was his little secret, his insurance policy against a formidable and unpredictable ally.

 

He thought on the young Sith lord, and how easy it had been to manipulate him into taking over his duty. His lip curled up. If only he had been born with force ability…what he might have achieved then…he might have been on the Jedi Council, or even leading it by now. Even though the thought amused him, no lines of distinction truly existed anymore. Not to him. There were no Sith or Jedi. There was only the plan, and even though he believed in the plan, he was not about to martyr himself for it, or allow himself to be controlled by it. He would play his part quietly, knowing what he was doing was right, both for himself and for the universe.

 

His nemesis was corrupt and false, publicly drowning in worship and accolades, and wallowing privately in the gratification her successes had bought. The daughter of a Sith lord’s whore. The Force was a profound gift and utterly wasted on that Jedi. He snorted and stepped out into the courtyard. He took a deep breath. The rain pelted his upturned face like shrapnel—a reminder of past battles and future victories. It reminded him he was still alive. It reminded him that he was a survivor. He caressed the remote once more and kept walking.

 

 

*****

 

“You have to let me talk to her. Just for a minute. Something’s wrong.” Kira pleaded.

 

“No visitors.”

 

Kira waved her hand. “You will let me talk to Master Liatrix.”

 

The guard stared at her. “No. I won’t. You’re not the first to try that trick.”

 

“This is important. What about Ambassador Jannik. Can I talk to him?”

 

“This is a restricted area. You’re going to have to leave.”

 

Kira huffed and turned about. “Please.”

 

Ambassador Jannik turned the corner and Kira raced to him.

 

“What seems to be the problem?”

 

“Something is wrong, I have to talk to Master Liatrix. She sensed something…I saw her.”

 

Ambassador Jannik approached the guard. “I need to confer with Master Liatrix.” Kira followed.

 

“Of course, you may, Ambassador…but not her.” The guard nodded at Kira.

 

“Master Kira…I’ll speak to her on your behalf.”

 

“Thank you. Thank you, Ambassador.” Kira heaved a sigh of relief. “No thanks to you, though.” Kira sniped at the guard and turned on her heel.

 

The holding cell entry slid open for Jannik. Master Liatrix stared straight ahead, her body rigid as a sculpture. If she was aware of Jannik, she didn’t let on.

 

He took a few tentative steps closer and paused. “Liatrix? Are you all right?”

 

At first, she didn’t seem to hear him. “No. You have to get me out of here. Something terrible is going to happen.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“I’m not sure, but I have to warn them…have to try and stop it.”

 

He glanced back over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “You know that’s impossible. If you try to escape it’ll be worse for you.”

 

“I’m not trying to escape.”

 

“I know that, but that’s not what they’ll think.”

 

“I don’t care. Call the guard. Tell him I’m sick or something.”

 

Jannik’s lips formed a thin tight line. He glanced over his shoulder again, and then around the cell. He nodded once.

 

“Guard! Guard! Help me! Jannik shouted.

 

The Guard drew his pistol and jogged toward the cell.

 

“What’s going on here?” The guard roared and opened the door.

 

Jannik stepped aside. Liatrix held up her hand. The guard hurtled backward off his feet and collided with the wall.

 

With a flick of her hand, she summoned the guard’s coded pass card and took his pistol.

 

“Promise me you’ll leave here right now. Get some place safe. Thank you. For everything.”

 

Jannik nodded. “Go! And may the Force be with you.”

 

*****

 

Theron zigged and zagged through the Senate plaza crowds on his speeder until it became a liability. He abandoned the Ghost and sprinted across the slick pavement toward the Senate building. He dialed Satele and the Director again.

Still no answer.

 

He passed picketers who thrust pamphlets at him, something about the True Republic.

 

“Locate saved target…” He whispered.

 

He stopped in the lobby, his hands over his knees as he caught his breath. Threads of rainwater leaked from his saturated clothing. He shot up as the pink dot on his HUD came live again.

 

“Enhance floor plan. Include maintenance access and delivery ports.”

 

The pink dot slowed somewhere on the top floor. Theron bolted headlong into the holonet press gathered outside the trial chamber, shoving his way through toward the rear south side staircase.

 

*****

 

“Master!” Kira cried out, eyes wide. “How did you—?”

 

“I don’t have time to explain. Find Doc and Rusk and the others. Get out of here now.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“No time. Go now.” Liatrix dashed toward the rear north side staircase and drew the stolen pistol.

 

Kira’s brows dipped. “Master…”

 

Her gaze followed Liatrix until she was out of sight. She moved to follow and then stopped. She reached out with the Force to find Doc, Rusk, and their friends. She started for the small break room just off the lobby.

 

*****

 

Zane glanced up at the server. “Thank you.”

 

“Can I get you anything else sir?”

 

“No, this will do just fine.”

 

He watched the young woman scurry down the aisle toward the kitchen. He took a sip of his caf, and watched the flashing dot track along the corridor on the top floor of the schematic. The dot stopped moving.

 

Blink…blink…blink…

 

His lip quirked up at the corner. He took another sip of his caf, and then reached into his pocket and pressed the button.

 

((to be continued…))

Edited July 6, 2016 by Lunafox

[frauzet]

Now my coffee is cold, forgot to drink it while reading.

Nice how you built up the suspense, and then cliffhanger

I am looking forward to the next piece!

[bright_ephemera]

I could just hug Jannik. I've always liked him, I like what you do with him. And Zane's POV is outstanding. Looking forward to what happens with that button

[Lunafox]

Now my coffee is cold, forgot to drink it while reading.

Nice how you built up the suspense, and then cliffhanger

I am looking forward to the next piece!

 

He hee, thank you! Glad you enjoyed

 

 

I could just hug Jannik. I've always liked him, I like what you do with him. And Zane's POV is outstanding. Looking forward to what happens with that button

 

Thanks! I've always liked Jannik too. When I was sitting here thinking...who would I get to defend her? He popped straight to mind. To me, he was one of the more memorable minor characters in the story. I like to think he's somehow connected to Keeper...as he reminded me of a younger version of him, in a way...except without Keeper's coldness.

Zane thinks he's the hero of his own story.

[Charmedseed]

I'm pretty sure I've already used my allotted arm-waving and button-mashing responses, but FFFFFF. Zane has done from bastard to downright insidious.

 

I almost didn't want Lia to leave because it seems like such a tangled web at this point that there's no way she'll get out of it, no matter who confesses or how much truth they get out of it. My heart!

[Lunafox]

I'm pretty sure I've already used my allotted arm-waving and button-mashing responses, but FFFFFF. Zane has done from bastard to downright insidious.

 

I almost didn't want Lia to leave because it seems like such a tangled web at this point that there's no way she'll get out of it, no matter who confesses or how much truth they get out of it. My heart!

 

No no, you can have as many arm-waving, button-mashing responses as you need. I won't restrict you lol.

 

Zane is a special brand of horrible all right. To be honest, he's even surprising me a little bit, with what he's whispering in my ear lol.

[Lunafox]

The Foundation of All Desire (Part 18)

 

Theron bounded up the south side staircase, taking the steps two at a time. The cybernetic implant in his ear vibrated to announce an incoming transmission, and he skidded to a halt. “Accept incoming,” he whispered. “Satele.”

 

“Theron, what is it, you sounded upset.”

 

“You and the council, Saresh, the director—you’re all in danger. I’ve reason to believe there’s about to be an attempt on your lives…”

 

“We’ve sensed something is wrong. Get to safety. We’ll manage.” Satele said.

 

Theron watched the now stationary pink dot flashing on his HUD. “Gotta go, but I’m going to leave the line open.”

 

“Theron, be careful.” His mother added.

 

Liatrix leapt onto the north side landing, blaster drawn. Her attention shot to the man on the south end of the hall. She relaxed the poised blaster and stared at him matter-of-factly.

 

“It’s not safe,” Liatrix shouted. Her gaze swept up the long central staircase that lead to the top floor. The disturbance in the force was closest to the deliberation room.

 

“SIS. I’m coming with you.” Theron called over.

 

“I know who you are.” Liatrix didn’t argue and didn’t linger. She was better than half way up the staircase by the time he caught up to her. She stopped and glanced back at him.

 

“Do you have any idea what’s about to happen?” Liatrix whispered.

 

“No. Do you?”

 

Her brows quivered and she drew a staggered breath. “He’s already killed people.”

 

She darted the rest of the way up and froze. Her hand slid over her lips. At least a half dozen security guards lay sprawled in haphazard heaps in the corridor. At the far end of the hall, a man wearing Jedi robes stood before an open climate control access panel next to the deliberation room. In his right hand, he held a blinking device, no larger than a holocron. He turned his head and glared at Liatrix with bright yellow eyes.

 

Theron aimed his pistol. “It’s all over. Put it down.”

 

The fake Jedi opened his mouth to speak. Then his eyes widened with a horrible realization. He looked down at the device.

 

Liatrix shuddered. She felt something akin to an icy claw reach for her.

 

“It’s too late.” She gasped and whirled around, throwing herself at the agent. Theron fell backwards down the flight of the stairs, the weight of the Jedi pressing against him, propelling him. They bounced down the stairs in a mad tumble. The top floor boomed. A tidal wave of flame rushed down the hall, past the staircase and licked down the walls toward the landing.

 

Theron’s blaster discharged. Liatrix yelped. The pair rolled to a stop against the balcony railing of the landing.

Liatrix lay sprawled over him and didn’t move. Theron shivered against the cold smooth marble floor and railing. He felt the beginnings of bruises on his torso and legs. The back of his head and the base of his spine throbbed. He felt like someone had taken a Gamorrian spiked club to him.

 

Furniture splintered. Jagged wooden shrapnel, spring coils, and glass flew in all directions. The curtains and banners flamed. Burning debris rained around them like comets with fiery tails, and yet didn’t touch them. Liatrix buried her face against Theron’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. A cacophony of screams and cries echoed up from the lower levels. The thunder of feet rampaging to escape the burning building sounded like a herd of dewbacks on cracked dry soil.

 

“I think that’s the worst of it.” Theron murmured and rolled the Jedi onto her back. He hovered over her and patted her cheek. “Hey, you with me? You okay?”

 

She made a small plaintive sound and blinked up at him.

 

“This is the second time…you’ve shot me.” She whispered.

 

“Sorry.” He eased off of her and drew back the singed collar of her robe to check the wound. He couldn’t help but notice she smelled good—like citrus and fresh linens. He tugged his jacket off and covered her gingerly. “Barely a scratch. You’ll live. Stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

 

“I’m okay.” She groaned and moved to sit up.

 

As he straightened, he couldn’t help but notice the pattern of debris around them. Every piece had landed outside of a perfect circle around them.

 

She must have shielded us…

 

He bounded up the crumbling stairs and covered his face with the back of his hand against the smoke. The air stunk of burning flesh and hair, and the acrid fumes stung his eyes. He coughed, and dropped to a crouch as he moved, careful to avoid debris and chunks of human remains. The far wall was still mostly intact, but the double doors of the deliberation room, looked as if they’d been charged head on by a vorantikus. Even with all of his experience, he’d never seen durasteel cave like that.

 

“Satele can you hear me? Are you all right?” He frowned at the silence in his ear and then realized he must have bitten down and disconnected the line in the fall.

 

The fake Jedi’s torso burned in the far corner, his mouth and eyes shocked wide. Theron pounded on the crumpled doors. “Can anyone hear me?” He took a step back and kicked. The sprinkler system overhead initiated, spraying Theron with jets of cold water. His loose khaki shirt clung to his body and he shivered.

 

“We hear you, Theron. Move away from the door now.” Satele’s muffled voice called through the door.

 

He exhaled his relief and moved aside. As soon as he was clear, the doors blew outwards, and he was met with several dust and debris covered Jedi. SIS Director Marcus Trant and Supreme Chancellor Saresh crouched behind an overturned solid wood desk and rose slowly, their hands up as if expecting another onslaught.

 

Saresh coughed and blinked at the particles that hung in the air. Master Kiwiiks and Master Gnost-Dural stood opposite each other, their eyes closed and hands clasped as if in prayer. Their combined efforts were all that kept the roof from caving in completely. Several of the other Council members look wan and spent from their efforts to shield the deliberation room.

 

“Everyone all right?” Theron called out. “We need to get outta here.”

 

“I want a full report of what transpired here Agent.” Saresh straightened and tugged at her robes.

 

The SIS director nodded. “We’ll get to that once we evacuate. The shuttle should be here any second.”

 

“Could be a while before it gets here, Director. An accident was arranged to undermine emergency services. They’ve likely got their hands full. We need to have a chat about Senior Agent Zane.” Said Theron.

 

“Is everyone okay?” Liatrix called out from the doorway and coughed. Her face was dotted with ash and soot marks.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in detainment?” Saresh said.

 

"Probably, Supreme Chancellor.”

 

“She was on her way up here to warn you...when the bomb detonated. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be in more pieces than a Rodian puzzle right now.” Said Theron.

 

Satele nodded. “Thank you for saving him. I see you were injured in the blast.” She nodded toward the young Jedi’s shoulder.

 

“I’m fine. With your permission, I’d like to go help the injured.”

 

Saresh took a step forward. “This is highly irregular. And ill-advised.”

 

“I promise you, I’m not going anywhere, and there are people who need help. We need to hurry. The fire is spreading, despite the sprinklers. There may be people trapped. We have to search.” Liatrix said.

 

“She’s right. Gather anyone who can help you. Do what you can. Help is on its way.” Satele said.

 

The director spoke into his SIS comlink. “This is Trant. ETA on the E-vac shuttle?”

 

“Three minutes.” The dispatcher replied.

 

Theron glanced up at the roof, and then at Master Kiwiiks as she wavered. “She’s exhausted. We need to go.”

 

Agreed.” Said Satele.

 

As if on cue, the growl of an incoming shuttle vibrated the walls. Trant waved a beckoning arm. “E-vac’s here.” He stepped onto the gaping hole where there was once a window, glass crunching under his boots. He tested his weight against the ledge and nodded when it held up. “Master Kiwiiks. I’ve got you. You’ll be fine.”

 

The Jedi formed a line to the window, each focusing on keeping the roof up so that the last in the line could escape safely in turn.

 

Liatrix met Kira and Rusk in the doorway.

 

“Is everyone safe? Where’s Doc?” Said Liatrix.

 

“He’s just outside in the plaza. He’s got a makeshift triage set up.” Said Kira.

 

“We need to search every room. Make sure that no one’s trapped.”

 

Rusk nodded. “On it, Master Jedi.”

 

“Let’s go.” Said Kira.

 

*****

 

Zane sipped his caf and looked up at the holonet report tracking over the vid screen across from his table at the Taxi Stand Café. Those seated at the other tables stood, and moved closer to hear the emergency report.

 

“This is Zil Dazani reporting for Corusnet News. Earlier today a super transport carrying liquid fuel exploded on the skyway, killing at least a dozen motorists, and injuring hundreds more. Eye witnesses state that the carrier had been fired upon by a male suspect wearing Jedi robes.

Shortly after the incident on the skyway, a bold terrorist attack rocked the Senate Building, in what is believed to have been a bombing. No word yet on casualties, or if the two incidents are related. No one has stepped forward to claim responsibility for the action against the Senate Building at this time, and the suspect in the transport attack is still at large. This is Zil Dazani, live at the Senate Plaza. More as it becomes available…”

 

Zane paid for his caf and tipped the waitress on his way out to the taxi stand. Satisfied that no one was paying him any attention, he dropped the remote through the floor grate. He watched it tumble and plummet. When the remote was out of sight, he climbed into an available taxi.

 

*****

Theron watched as the Jedi Masters and Satele gathered at the far end of the SIS conference room, their voices lowered as they debated. The room was a heavily guarded hive of activity.

 

Supreme Chancellor Saresh sat at a desk in the opposite corner on a secured line. Several aides had arrived and were working at spinning an address to the Republic.

 

Marcus Trant approached Theron and folded his arms over his chest. “Now what’s this about Zane?”

 

“He’s the one behind all this. He’s working with a Sith…pretending to be a Jedi. The same one who blew that transport earlier. Zane conned him into delivering the bomb to the Senate. He was supposed to deliver it.”

 

“That’s a hell of an allegation. I hope you have something to back that up.”

 

“I do. I downloaded their conversation from my implant to this terminal. See for yourself.” Theron tapped the keypad and nodded.

 

Trant’s eyes widened. “This was taken at Zane’s home?”

 

“Yeah, earlier today.”

 

“Mind telling me why you were there?”

 

“I was doing a friend a favour. And following up on a hunch.”

 

“Balkar?”

 

“Yeah. He’s a good agent. He doesn’t deserve the ax over this.”

 

“It’s no secret Balkar and Zane have been at each other’s throats for years. Now he’s drawn you into it.”

 

“Look, the fact is, I discovered that someone had tampered with my Toxicity. I have every reason to believe it was done, in the hope of killing the Jedi. I have her tox report and medical to back it up. It’s all right there.” He nodded to the terminal.

 

“Only someone with access to her restricted files would have known those details about her. I was going to slice his personal database…but before I could, the Sith showed up, interrupted me. Looks like they were supposed to meet up.”

 

“Why didn’t he just kill you?”

 

Theron shrugged. “Close as I can figure, he didn’t need the headache of a body just then. He thought he put the whammy on me, and I played along. I think he actually believed I was maintenance. Bottom line Director, that phone call links Zane to the bombing. There’s something bigger going on here. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

 

Trant shook his head. “There has to be an explanation. He’s dedicated to the Republic…why would he turn like this all of a sudden. It just doesn’t add up.”

 

“I don’t pretend to understand his motivations, but you can’t tell me that you have doubts…”

 

“I don’t. I’ll have him brought in, and seize his databases. Assuming he wasn’t caught up in the blast. He was at the trial.”

 

“Maybe he’s counting on that…maybe the bombing is his get out of jail pass.”

 

*****

 

Zane exhaled a slow breath of relief. He poured himself a finger of Whyren’s Reserve and tipped it back, savouring the smooth woody taste. He closed his eyes, waiting for the burn to kick in and go to his head.

 

“That’s enough celebrating. Back to work.” He muttered to himself and crossed the room to his holo-terminal.

 

He keyed in the sequence and waited.

 

The image of a hooded and masked man appeared at the center of the console. The image resonated with authority and power, few would ever dare to question.

 

Zane bowed. “Senior Agent Zane reporting.”

 

“I trust you have an update on the current situation? Good news, I hope.”

 

“Yes. Operation Discredit Eliminate and Replace was a success. The road is clear now for our people.”

 

“Where is Lord Signius? He hasn’t reported in yet.”

 

“He’s dead. His carelessness nearly cost us the mission.”

 

“Pity, he was useful. Your work is done for now Agent. You’ll be hearing from me.”

 

“Of course sir.” Senior Agent Zane bowed.

 

The holo image of the masked man in black ragged robes disintegrated.

 

Zane took a deep breath. Deciding he deserved another drink, he started across the room and then frowned at the stain on his couch cushion. “What’s this?” He plucked the metallic casing out of the pillow and examined the dart.

 

“Shan…son of a Hutt.” He hissed. “That’s how Balkar was doing it.” He wiped his prints from the dart and carefully inserted it back into the cushion.

 

He dove at his computer desk and typed in a coded sequence. Next, he typed in another strand of code. “Eliminate everything pertaining to ‘The Plan’ and ‘Operation DEAR.’ Erase all incoming and outgoing transmissions. Zane authorization Resh Esk, Vev, Aurek Nern.”

 

As the computer and holo-terminal whirred, Zane stalked across the room to his mantel. He reached up and behind The Slaughter of the Innocents, and triggered his wall safe. He removed the packet of documents inside, and a device he’d earned from his time with the Ghost Cell on Tatooine.

 

Pocketing his travel documents and bank accesses, he took one last look around and then nodded to himself.

 

“Was good while it lasted.” He initiated the device, and took on the form of a young woman in her early twenties and walked out.

 

At the end of the block, he noticed the familiar vehicles and faces, on their way to take him in for questioning. Whatever Shan had managed to get on him, was enough to convince the Director. Raising his hand, he hailed a taxi.

 

“Where to, Miss?” Said the driver.

 

“The Spaceport please.” Zane chirped. “It’s my Daddy’s birthday tomorrow, and I have to get home.”

 

*****

 

Liatrix smiled as a little girl who had gotten lost was reunited with her mother. The mother nodded her thanks to Liatrix, and hugged her daughter again.

 

She glanced about, conducting a silent inventory of those who mattered.

 

Balkar was helping load the injured into shuttles. Doc was tending an old woman who had almost been trampled to death. Rusk was carrying supplies over to Doc’s examination area.

 

Ambassador Jannik was speaking with the press. Kira was consoling a woman, whose husband was unaccounted for.

Liatrix took up Kira’s holocom and tapped in a sequence. She turned her back to the crowd and kept her voice low.

 

“I just wanted to check on you. I’ve missed you.”

 

“I have nothing to say.”

 

Liatrix’s brows met. “Someone bombed the Senate today.”

 

She peered in a bit closer at the holocom, something in the background catching her eye. “Why is T-7 in pieces? What happened? Is everything okay there?”

 

“No. I’m surprised you even have to ask.”

 

Liatrix lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

 

“There is no more to be said.”

 

The image fizzled out. Liatrix buried her face against her hand and wept.

 

((To be continued…))

Edited July 6, 2016 by Lunafox

[frauzet]

Still here, still enjoying

I am wondering what Liatrix would smell like for me. And knowing about her abilities obviously doesn't make you immune. How much is she herself aware about this?

Also

man in tattered robes and the password... It's plausible there would be a lot of connected events to destabilize the galaxy prior to the ones ingame.

 

[Lunafox]

Still here, still enjoying

 

I am wondering what Liatrix would smell like for me. And knowing about her abilities obviously doesn't make you immune. How much is she herself aware about this?

Also

man in tattered robes and the password... It's plausible there would be a lot of connected events to destabilize the galaxy prior to the ones ingame.

 

Thanks!

I'm inclined to think she doesn't realize it. It will be interesting perhaps, when she finds out about it.

 

She would smell different for everyone...based on what their favorite things are. I'm still considering what she smells like to Scourge. What do Sith enjoy? *edit* Then again, maybe he doesn't smell anything, his senses don't work right... Whatever it is you like best, that's what she'd be for you. For me...well...I would say she smells like dark chocolate and raspberries and apples. I was inspired by the Amortentia (love potion) from Harry Potter.

"Amortentia doesn't create actual love, of course. That's impossible. But it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. For that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."

—Horace Slughorn while in Potion class in 1996.[src]

 

http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Amortentia

 

 

Indeed, there is a great potential there, and when I thought of the ghost cell and Zane training with them, I thought it could be entirely plausible that it might even be something Revan was up to. As far as I know, anyways. I see Zane as being quite clever and very talented agent when he was younger, and was recruited, while he was still idealistic and pliant.

 

Edited February 8, 2015 by Lunafox

[Lunafox]

The Foundation of All Desire (Part 19)

 

“This is Zil Dazani, reporting for Corusnet News. It’s been two weeks since the bombing of the Senate Building that claimed twenty-seven lives, and injured a hundred and eight others. As you can see, its business as usual here at the Senate building, but Coruscant’s mood remains subdued. Few details have come to light, and citizens have received little in the way of reassurances from Supreme Chancellor Saresh, or the Jedi Council.”

 

“Today, we await the verdict in The Fallen Jedi case, which was postponed owing to the tragedy. The accused, Master Liatrix, was on hand to secure the Senate after the bombing. Many of those she helped, have gathered here today, as a show of support for the young Jedi. Regardless of the outcome, many here, like five year old Mila Nem’zarin, will tell you that Master Liatrix is a hero. What did Master Liatrix do for you Mila?”

 

“She found my Mommy and saved us. And she wasn’t scared of anything. She told me I didn’t have to be scared either. I want to be a Jedi just like her when I grow up.”

 

“She made quite an impression on you. Thank you Mila. We will return with live coverage, once the verdict and sentence are announced. Over to L’oota Min for the weather…”

 

*****

 

“All rise for Supreme Chancellor Leontyne Saresh.” The Bailiff called out.

 

“Please be seated.” The politician took a long look around the crowded make shift courtroom. The sound of bodies rustling as they sat in unison echoed in the large chamber. Coughs and whispers laced through the background like a disjointed melody before falling silent.

 

Arun Sul glanced over at Liatrix and Jannik. The smug gleam in the prosecutor’s eyes sharpened a face that already resembled an ice cold hatchet. His expression wasn’t lost on Liatrix, but if Jannik noticed their nemesis, he didn’t let on.

 

“Are the Council and Representatives of the Republic ready to proceed?”

 

“We are.” Satele Shan stepped forward and passed a datapad to Saresh. The Supreme Chancellor scanned the statement and cleared her throat.

 

“Master Liatrix, please rise.”

 

Ambassador Jannik set his hand on Liatrix’s shoulder. “Here we go. Take a deep breath.” He whispered.

 

Liatrix stood. Her gaze followed Satele back to her seat, but the Grandmaster wouldn’t meet her eyes. Liatrix clasped her wrist and looked up at the Twi’lek politician. The thrum of her pulse pounded in her ears like a drumbeat. Her entire future was coming down to this moment.

 

“In the matter of the Republic versus Master Liatrix, we, the representatives of the Republic, find the defendant Master Liatrix, not guilty of the crime of murder in the felony against Jedi knight Jomar Chul. In the matters of impeding an official SIS investigation, assaulting an SIS agent, eleven counts of civil liberties violations against the Gamorrean colony of Vzer, unauthorized incursion on enemy soil, as well as several counts of environmental destruction, collusion, and breaching Republic law, we must find you not guilty.”

 

Several happy and relieved murmurs echoed in the chamber behind Liatrix. Saresh’s shrewd gaze scanned those gathered below. She noted the sounds came not only from Liatrix’s friends, but from the supporters she had gained after the bombing.

 

Liatrix held her breath and stared straight ahead. The drumbeat in her ears grew louder. A quivering sensation fluttered her stomach and fanned out to her arms like pins and needles. She made a fist and then splayed her cold moist fingers. She flexed her main saber hand twice more.

 

“In the matters of breaching the Jedi Code, and behavior unbecoming of a Jedi Master, the Jedi Council, find you guilty as charged. In light of this verdict, you will be stripped of the title of Master. You will return to Tython for a period of no less than three months, so that you may re-discover what it means to be a Jedi and receive counselling. You will be ineligible to sit on the Jedi Council for a period of no less than fifteen years, assuming exemplary service in that time. Command of your crew will fall to Jedi Knight Kira Carsen until you are deemed recovered. You will report to the Jedi Temple on Tython in two days. Failure to do so, will result in your expulsion from the Order.”

 

What began as uneasy muttering at the back of the court, grew in pitch until a cacophony of angry voices filled the chamber.

 

“Booo! This Jedi saved us. Booo!”

 

“Where was the council when the bomb hit? That’s right, nowhere! Boo.”

 

“Injustice! This is poodoo! She’s more of a Jedi than any of you cowards! Where were all of you?”

 

“This is wrong and you know it!”

 

Liatrix flinched at the raucous voices. Her shoulders tightened, until she realized the anger wasn’t directed against her, but against the judgement. Ambassador Jannik turned to watch those gathered at the back of the chamber. His lip edged up at the corner.

 

“Silence. There will be order in the court.” Saresh boomed.

 

The protests grew louder. “This isn’t right! Booo poodoo.” Another called out.

 

The Council remained still and stoic behind the Supreme Chancellor, emotionless to the perturbed onlookers below.

 

“Silence! Or you will be ejected from this court. Silence! That will be enough.” Saresh stood and banged her gavel. “If you cannot behave in a civilized fashion, you will be removed.”

 

Jannik nudged Liatrix. “Address them…” He whispered.

 

“Me?” Liatrix’s brows quirked together.

 

“Do it now.” Jannik hissed under his breath.

 

She swallowed hard and turned around.

“Ladies and Gentlemen…Gentlebeings. Please calm down.” She patted the air in a taming gesture. “I appreciate your support. Thank you. All of you. I can’t tell you what it means to me, but the decision has been made. Thank you.” She steepled her hands in thanks, when they fell silent. A small figure pushed through the adults and ran to Liatrix.

 

“Mila!” Liatrix knelt. The child threw herself at Liatrix and embraced her, her chin resting on the Jedi’s shoulder.

 

Liatrix hugged the child and pushed back a strand of her hair and smiled. “Glad to see you’re doing okay.”

 

“Please don’t cry Master Jedi.” Mila touched Liatrix’s cheek.

 

“I’ll be okay. Thanks to you. You should go back to your Mommy now though. Okay?”

 

Mila hugged Liatrix again and then scurried back to her mother.

 

Saresh cleared her throat and continued. “I do wish to add, that your military rank of General still stands. The representatives of the Republic and the Jedi Council have spoken. This is their final judgement. This court stands adjourned.”

 

Jannik leaned in close. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Liatrix nodded and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

 

“I don’t think we could have hoped for better. Getting you out into the crowd, helping people, it went a long way. Talking to the press didn’t hurt either. It showed them you weren’t afraid, and you weren’t beaten.”

 

“That’s not why I did it.” Liatrix murmured.

 

“I know. But it worked. Saresh should be careful. If you ever decide to get into politics...”

 

“You couldn’t pay me enough.”

 

Jannik chuckled. “Just putting it out there. You’re a natural. People love you. And if Saresh feels threatened by you, she just might push to have your title reinstated. Now, how about we round up your crew and grab some dinner, celebrate a bit. We deserve it.”

 

“There are some things I need to do, before I go back to Tython.” Liatrix whispered. Being around other people was the last thing she wanted tonight.

 

“Do them tomorrow.” Jannik smiled and nudged her into the throng.

 

Liatrix shook hands with her supporters and thanked them. The Ambassador gestured to Kira and the others, motioning for them to follow. Doc shook his head and hung back. “I’ve got the night shift. Thanks anyway.”

 

Kira shrugged and looped arms with Rusk and Lord Praven. “We can finally put all this behind us. Shall we, gentlemen?”

 

“Lead the way.” Unaw Aharo chimed in.

 

The prosecutor, Arun Sul seized Jannik’s elbow, and glared at him. He leaned in and muttered, just loud enough for Liatrix to hear. “Well played Jannik…using the bombing and victim theatrics to—”

 

Jannik cut him off. “You would know all about theatrics Sul, and I learned from the best. But unlike you, I'm thinking about the big picture. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a victory to celebrate.”

 

The Chagrian snarled and dove into the crowd, like a mating fish swimming the wrong way.

 

The chamber doors swung open. A mass of holonet journalists barked at Liatrix in unison as she passed by them. Their recording devices, cams and amplifying probes floated just above their heads capturing every moment for their live feed. As the press pushed closer, eyes wild and teeth flashing, Liatrix was reminded of the canids on Creant’s moon.

 

The voices rushed at her like tangled skeins of thread—impossible to isolate only one.

 

“Liatrix…what does this mean for you now? Liatrix are you going to accept their judgement? Liatrix are you angry with the Council for what they did? Liatrix how do you feel about the judgement? Liatrix are you going to run for office? Liatrix where is Lord Scourge? Liatrix where is Agent Balkar? Master Liatrix are you in love? Liatrix will you remain a Jedi knight?”

 

Liatrix winced and lowered her gaze.

 

Jannik smiled his best politician’s smile. “Master Liatrix has said all she’s going to folks. It’s been a long day. We’re tired, we’re hungry. Thank you for your support.” He curved around the Jedi like a personal guard, shielding her from the raging press.

 

Liatrix continued the push through the clamoring throng and paused when she saw someone she didn’t expect. He stood apart from the crowd and leaned against one of the aurodium trimmed columns with his arms folded. He watched the noisy parade pass by with an almost languid serenity. The man made no move to approach her or speak to her. He made no gestures of acknowledgement, except the brief moment their gazes locked. At the main doors, she glanced back over her shoulder, but the agent who had shot her twice now, was gone.

 

*****

 

Jonas Balkar swirled the kri’gee in his tumbler and pushed his datapad aside. The spiralling golden liquid had an almost hypnotic affect. He stilled his hand, and watched the threads of bubbles climb to the surface. He was vaguely aware of the light dreamy number the Bith swing band warbled in the background. The Silver Krayt was quiet tonight. Balkar owned the section.

 

He glanced up at the vid screen angled over the bar, and watched Corusnet’s replay of The Fallen Jedi case verdict through the curving amber lens of his glass.

 

“Hell of a ride huh?”

 

Balkar glanced up. “Yeah. Was starting to think you couldn’t make it.”

 

“I had to check on someone.” Theron slid into the booth across from Balkar and took the bottle by its neck and tilted it. He eyed the dregs at the bottom. “Didn’t think I was that late.” He chuckled.

 

Balkar gestured to the serving droid to bring another bottle and glass. “You know me, I like to get a head start.”

 

“I take it you didn’t go to the trial?”

 

Balkar shook his head. “No. After what happened the last time, I figured it was better I stay away.”

 

The droid set the new bottle and glass in front of Theron. “I got this.” He shooed the droid away and poured. “So what’d you think?”

 

“Could’ve been worse. But at least I won’t have to organize a jail break.” Balkar shrugged and took a swig of kri’gee. He let the liquid swim over his tongue and then swallowed. “She looked miserable though.”

 

“Getting striped of the title is a big deal.”

 

“You’d think after everything that happened…they’d be looking for ways to keep her close, not push her away. She’s already one foot out the door.”

 

Theron nodded. “Everything is a trial with the Jedi.” He sipped at his drink and smacked his lips.

 

“The more I hear about them…the more I—” Jonas frowned and twisted his tumbler a half turn and then back again.

 

“Resent them?”

 

“Yeah, not quite the word I was going for, but close enough.” Balkar stared at the monitor. A close up of little Mila hugging Liatrix filled the screen.

 

Theron glanced over at the vid screen, and then hunched over his drink. He stared down at the fizzy surface, his brows furrowing at his own reflection.

 

“Guess that party’s over.” Balkar forced himself to turn away.

 

“Gotta say it. You’re out of your mind.” Theron said.

 

Balkar chuckled and looked down at the battered wood table. His face tingled. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was the fact that Theron was right. “Can I pick ‘em or what?”

 

“Let’s just say I’d never get involved with a Jedi. I’m not a masochist.” Theron raised his glass in a half-hearted toast.

 

“Like I’ve said before, you’re wise beyond your years.” Balkar smirked.

 

“Ah, but you’re the lucky one. Still can’t believe you got off with just a pay cut and time served.”

 

Balkar scoffed. “Just? I wish. They’re shipping me off to Denon day after tomorrow.”

 

“That’s rough. Sorry to hear.”

 

“Trying to stay in one piece should be enough to keep me occupied.” Balkar drained his glass. “Any leads on Zane?”

 

“Nada. Vanished like a damn ghost in a sandstorm.”

 

“Always knew he was a slippery bastard. Can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone.”

 

Theron reached for the datapad at Balkar’s elbow, turning it right side up. “What’s this?”

 

“Nothing really. Just decoding some of Creant’s files.”

 

“Find anything?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“That’s proof right there. You’re a sucker for punishment.” Theron refilled their tumblers.

 

“You’re more right than you know.” Balkar grinned.

 

“Don’t get in over your head.” Theron warned.

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Yeah. That’s what you said last time. I won’t always be there to bail your a.ss out.”

 

“I do owe you one. You’ve been a good friend.” Balkar offered his hand. Theron clasped it and shook.

 

“Don’t give it another thought. Drink up. We need to find a place with a pulse.” Theron drained his glass and stole a glance at the screen as he stood to leave.

 

*****

 

The next morning, Liatrix slipped into the hospital just before visiting hours. The pale peach glow of the Coruscanti sunrise streamed into the windows. The air smelled of something astringent.

 

She paused outside the door and took a deep breath. It wasn’t too late to leave unnoticed, but she knew this was something she needed to do.

 

Liatrix peered into the room. Leeha’s bed was in the upright position, her face turned toward the window. The remnants of her breakfast remained on the tray table, waiting to be cleared.

 

“Leeha?” Liatrix murmured.

 

“I wondered if you’d come.” The Nautolan turned to face Liatrix.

 

“I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing…”

 

Leeha swivelled the ring on her finger.

 

“Leeha,” Liatrix began, “I’m sorry.” She stared down at the terrazzo tile flooring. “I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

 

“You’re probably wondering how much I know. I saw everything. An agent came by to explain things, to help me understand.”

 

Liatrix took a step closer. “I wish it had been different.”

 

“So do I.” Leeha blinked rapidly and swallowed, before turning her gaze back to the window. “I understand. I know that he didn’t give you a choice, even though you tried. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. I know that I almost died because of his hatred, and that I’m alive, because of you.”

 

Liatrix exhaled the breath she’d been holding since she’d arrived.

 

“But…I hope you will understand, that I don’t want to see you again. I just can’t. I’m not trying to be cruel, but every time I see you, I think of him. Jomar was everything to me. And when I look at you, all I see is… his death.”

 

Liatrix nodded. She felt a tightness in her chest, as if everything she was, was shrivelling inside. “What are you going to do?” She whispered.

 

“Doc said I could go home at the end of the week. I miss the Mee Dees…I need to find my life again.”

 

“If you ever need anything…”

 

Leeha didn’t look at her. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Liatrix nodded and started for the door.

 

“The agent…was very gentle…kind. Did you send him?” Leeha called after her.

 

“No…did he tell you his name?”

 

Leeha nodded. “Theron. He said his name was Theron.”

 

“I don’t think we’ve met…unless…no, couldn’t be.” Liatrix shook her head and then turned to leave.

 

“Liatrix…one more thing. Be careful…”

 

She nodded and slipped out, keeping her eyes on the floor as she navigated the hall.

 

“Whoa there.” Doc called out.

 

Liatrix turned around. “You’re still here…”

 

He nodded. Dark half-moons shadowed his red rimmed eyes.

 

“You look exhausted. Long night?”

 

“Yeah. How was your victory dinner?”

 

“Everyone seemed to have a good time.” Liatrix put on a smile.

 

“Except you. Remember who you’re talking to. I can tell.”

 

Her lips formed a tight thin smile. “I know.”

 

“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry you’re not a Master anymore.”

 

“Thanks. That means a lot right now.”

 

“How did it go with Leeha?” He pointed his thumb back at the door.

 

“Better than I expected. Better than I deserved.”

 

Doc nodded and ran his hand over the nape of his neck. “There is something I wanted to ask you about…being on the crew.”

 

“I’ll understand if you want to quit.”

 

“Can’t say I didn’t think about it…but if it’s all the same, I’d prefer to stay.”

 

“Thank you.” She reached out and hugged him.

 

“You’re uh, welcome?” He returned the hug, tentatively at first, and then surrendered to it. He took a deep breath, the scent of rain-soaked Ralltiirian roses filling his senses.

 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

 

“So am I. Now, go on scoot. Ol’ Doc needs some shuteye.” He watched her leave and ran his hands over his face.

 

So am I.

 

((to be continued))

Edited November 29, 2015 by Lunafox

[Lunafox]

The Foundation of All Desire (Part 20)

 

 

Lord Scourge had always preferred the night. As a boy, he would look up at the night sky, but it was not the constant light of the stars that enticed him, but the ever changing moon. He made a point of studying the moons of every world he visited and always marvelled at their diversity. Even after his senses were stripped away, it was a habit he never abandoned.

 

He ventured out to the balcony of the old summit tower on Tython. Soon after his recovery, the tower had become his ‘home’. Staying at the temple was akin to living in a hive—the queen at its centre, workers coming and going, always buzzing with activity. Despite all their prattle about peace he never found it in the temple. He was a wasp among bees, and certain they were as relieved at his relocation as he was.

 

For the past three centuries, duty forced Scourge to keep day time hours, but since his arrival on Tython, he had found it easy to revert to his natural tendencies. His reasons were mostly physical; with the daylight came pain— brought on by an excess of noise, bright light and unwanted social interaction.

 

The night freed him from the hovering Jedi, the curious Twi’leks and even the hostile pockets of remaining flesh raiders. After sunset, they would all retreat to their hovels and campfires, leaving Scourge to his own devices.

 

He looked up at Tython’s moons, the pale Ashla and the blood red Bogan. The lore described each moon as a patron of the force—Ashla, the face of the light side and Bogan, the dark. But when he looked up at them, he didn’t see moons—he saw himself and the Jedi. He glared at the pale frosty moon as if it would somehow fathom the betrayal he felt and waited for it to cower. When the moon refused to yield, he snarled.

 

His fingers coiled around the balustrade with such force he thought the ancient stone would crumble to dust in his hands. For the briefest moment, his thoughts flashed on her throat and he imagined his hands around it, wringing out her last breath.

 

At the same instant he wondered how they could have fallen out. One day, they were performing ancient rituals to dilute his suffering so that they could love, and then circumstances led to her betrayal. He scowled. Why was it such a shock, when he in fact had lured her away from another?

 

She had cut him deeper than any Sith ever could. Betrayal was a way of life among their kind. It was expected, reciprocated and understood. He held her to a higher standard because she had earned his trust. Her infidelity was all the worse, because it was unexpected. The dark side had a sense of humour, and it was laughing at him right now.

 

The chilly night air, rife with the green medicinal smell of pine needles and distant campfires ghosted around him with every breath he took. Crickets fiddled their last songs of the season before dying. He closed his eyes. He hated to admit that a part of him found Tython comforting. The other part snarled in misery and demanded home, where the air was dry and dusty, and the sky was coral not blue.

 

Shivers danced up his spine and his skin was stippled with goose pimples. The soft light robes he wore did little to stave off the cold, but it was all he could endure against his skin. As vexing as the sensations were, he wouldn’t trade them for anything. For the first time in three hundred years, he no longer needed to rely on memory to define his senses.

 

The comforting warmth of the hearth inside beckoned to him, when he sensed her. He had become so absorbed in his own musings, he hadn’t felt her slithering into the tower.

 

He kept his back to her. “I told you, there is no more to be said.”

 

“I disagree. I needed to see you again.” Liatrix murmured.

 

“Selfish of you. Always, what you want…”

 

“After everything we’ve been through, I deserve to talk to you in person.”

 

“You deserve nothing.” He hissed.

 

She recoiled. “Then you won’t be disappointed. I’ve lost everything.”

 

“No less then you deserve.”

 

“How can you say that? Everything I did, was for you. I ended my marriage for you. I’ve been stripped of my position and publicly humiliated. I almost died for you and worst of all, my child died—yes, I found out. So explain to me, how am I being selfish?”

 

“All that was lost, was by your own doing.”

 

“You encouraged my desires. You shared them. Or was it just to turn me to the dark side? All those poetic speeches about thwarted longing, and waiting three centuries to see my face again.”

 

“Of course I sought to turn you to the dark side. Not even my Lord Emperor managed to fully turn you from the light.”

 

“It was all a game to you? Are you satisfied? You won.”

 

“A hollow victory. I expected greatness from you Jedi. The world could have been a smoking husk at your feet. You could have ascended to something greater. I watched a broken and humiliated Jedi become more powerful than the entire Jedi Council and Supreme Chancellor combined, and yet you did not seize the moment. All I see, when I look at you, are wasted opportunities and what might have been.”

 

“And when I look at you, I see expectations I can’t live up to.”

 

“Then you are not the woman I believed you to be. I expected more from you. You speak of your sacrifices on my behalf, and yet you discarded me so easily, and for an agent no less.”

 

“After everything that happened, I fell apart. I can’t take back what I did. I wish I could.”

 

“Spare me your regrets. They’re meaningless. You were weak.”

 

“Calling others weak, when you’re incapable of feeling anything is a luxury I wish I had right now.”

 

“The agent exploited you for his own pleasure. And you fell for it. What do you think an agent can even do for you? They are beneath us. At worst, he would use you until he tires of you, or at best he marries you and leaves you alone with a pack of mewling children after he’s killed in action. Agents are incapable of promising security.”

 

“And the Sith are? That agent, was there for me, when I needed someone most.”

 

“That wasn’t by my choice. I did my utmost to avoid it.”

 

“I never said it was your fault. But you’re wrong about Jonas. He saved me, on more than one occasion.”

 

“So you slept with him out of gratitude? Is that your excuse?”

 

“No. I did what I did because I felt alone and lost. He offered me comfort, and I took it.”

 

“Then don’t pretend you regret it.”

 

“I wasn’t pretending.”

 

“And what would you have done, had I not learned of it through the trial? Would you have returned to me and pretended none of it happened?”

 

“I don’t know. Probably. I wouldn’t have wanted to hurt you.”

 

“You’re incapable of hurting me.”

 

“You’re lying. For someone who can’t feel, you’re certainly acting like you’re hurt.” Her eyes narrowed and she drew back.

 

Scourge glowered.

 

“Unless…you succeeded. The machine on Belsavis…” Her voice trailed off.

 

“I’m still immortal if that’s what you’re asking.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“I saw the surveillance recording of you and Creant, and the deal you struck. You thought I was dead. Why did you go through with it? You wanted the clone…didn’t you?”

 

“Is that what you believe? That I sought to create a copy of you? I’m sure your lover was very persuasive to that end.”

 

“I have a mind of my own.”

 

“And yet you fail to use it.”

 

“Then explain.”

 

“The Emperor’s Hand seeks to revivify my Lord Emperor using your tissue. My intention was to secure every last sample and see Him finished once and for all.”

 

“You could have done that without using the machine.”

 

“I sought to end my immortality, because I had hoped to join you in death. If I failed in my mission, I certainly didn’t wish to spend eternity as the Emperor’s captive, so my use of the machine served two purposes.”

 

“It seems like the Force is conspiring to keep us apart.”

 

“You’re such a child with your mawkish notions. The Force didn’t lay with another man. You did, Jedi.”

 

“I have a name.”

 

“One that I will never speak again.” He muttered.

 

Liatrix slapped him hard enough that she questioned if she’d broken her hand. She winced and shook her hand to cast off the pain.

 

Scourge drew a sharp intake of breath. His cheek twitched and tingled.

 

“You can feel again. You bastard. Did you think you could keep it from me?”

 

“I wasn’t hiding it. It’s merely become irrelevant where you’re concerned. Now leave.” He summoned his lightsaber with an upturned palm and ignited it. “I won’t ask again.”

 

“I suppose you were right. There is no more to be said.” She hurried down the spiral stairs, her cloak billowing behind her.

 

The door slammed and Scourge cringed. The vibrations travelled straight to his marrow as if he’d been struck again. More painful still, was the look in her eyes.

Her eyes…

 

They were bluer than he remembered, and under her tears, they sparkled like faceted sapphires. His first memory of her sustained him for three hundred years—the last would have to sustain him for eternity.

 

 

 

Liatrix trudged down the sloping path toward the Jedi temple with barely an upward glance. The walk to the summit seemed shorter on the way up, despite the greater effort the incline demanded. The prospect of seeing Scourge again had energized her, and now, on the way down, she had no such motivator. She had hoped she wouldn’t be making the trek to the temple until morning.

 

She emptied her mind, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The sooner she reached the temple, the sooner she could rest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept well.

 

Hours later, she ascended the steps to the temple.

 

The temple guardians, with their eerie moon faced masks flanked the entrance like statues. A single nod acknowledged her and permitted her entry.

 

The spiraling halls turned in on themselves like a snail’s shell, until she found herself standing before the double doors that opened to the council chamber. She yawned and slipped inside the enormous round room.

 

She slumped in the chair closest to the doors. Cramps tore at her shoulders and her feet threatened to split down the arches. She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to quell the throbbing in her forehead. Her face felt tight and achy, and her eyes had run dry.

 

The plush blue headrest was as welcoming as a pillow. She yawned and curled up in the chair.

 

I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes, she thought.

 

The darkness behind her eyelids swirled and deepened until all awareness vanished.

 

 

She found herself in an opulent home, furnished with giant furniture. When she stood next to the chesterfield, the armrest blocked the rest of the room from her sight.

 

The aroma of delicious food called to her and her stomach rumbled, but when she found the table, she couldn’t reach the food. Why would anyone need such tall furniture?

 

Standing was difficult. The floors felt as if they were tilted and slippery. She held onto the furniture for balance. So long as she held to the furniture, she found it easier to cruise around the room. Her legs wobbled and gave out. She sat down hard. It didn’t hurt, but a bolt of surprise jarred her from the suddenness of it. She sat still for a moment and wasn’t sure if she should cry or laugh.

 

While she tried to decide, something new caught her attention—music. She pulled herself to her feet.

 

Drawn to the rich sound of tinkling keys, she followed the sound to the adjacent room.

 

A large man sat on a bench with his back to her. He swayed to and fro as he teased the melancholy sounds from the keybed with graceful arched fingers. His shoulders were nearly as wide as the instrument before him, and he had a full head of wavy dark hair. Entranced by his hands, she crept closer, watching in awe, as they skipped over the white, black and green keys. She wanted to touch them too and reached out…

 

The melody stopped, and the man turned slightly. “You like this?” His voice was smooth, deep and rich—every bit as enticing as the music he made. Her hand was tiny in his. “Come child…let us reach…”

 

She wanted to see his face and looked up—

 

 

 

“Liatrix? Are you all right?”

 

Someone nudged her shoulder, and then jostled it again a bit harder. The man vanished, and his words faded with him.

 

Let us reach…

 

“Come back…” Liatrix murmured in her sleep.

 

“Are you all right?” The voice prodded again.

 

Liatrix blinked. Startled, she sat straight up. “Master Satele…I must have dozed off. Forgive me.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and finger combed her hair.

 

“Nothing to forgive, you must be very tired. I didn’t expect to see you here until mid-day.”

 

The light streaming in, suggested it was well past sunrise. Liatrix winced at the brightness.

 

“There was something I had to do.”

 

“You paid a visit to Lord Scourge.”

 

Liatrix nodded. “I needed to speak with him.”

 

“Do you remember the day I asked you here?”

 

“Yes, of course I do.”

 

Master Satele perched on the chair across from Liatrix. “Had you confided in me then, much of what happened could have been avoided.”

 

“With all due respect, I doubt that.”

 

“The dark side warps your senses, and you lose the ability to trust, even those closest to you.”

 

“It wasn’t the dark side that spied on me. You didn’t trust me.”

 

“There is so little left of the young woman I once knew. I sense your turmoil, your fear, your distrust. Not even when you escaped the Emperor’s control were you so consumed. I’m concerned that we’ve lost you to the dark side for good. I want to guide you away from that.”

 

“I think we both know it’s too late for that.” Liatrix stood. “Honestly, you Jedi astound me. What you’re really worried about is that I’ll change sides. I’m still here aren’t I? I do what’s needed of me. So long as I kill the right people, that’s all that matters.”

 

“Killing defines the Sith, not the Jedi. Listen to yourself. You don’t even think of yourself as a Jedi anymore. Isolation is a symptom of the dark side.”

 

“Interesting you should say that. From the first moment I set foot on Tython, I was killing the indigenous for the Jedi and I’ve been killing my way across the galaxy for the Republic ever since. You yourself said, that taking a life affects us more profoundly than we realize. Did you really think I’d still be the same?”

 

Satele sighed. “If only Master Orgus were alive…”

 

“He’s not.”

 

“I am curious about a few things.”

 

Liatrix shrugged. “Then ask.”

 

“Why didn’t you inform the Council you married Dr. Kimble?”

 

“Attachment is forbidden.” Liatrix sighed. “He was the one person who reminded me of who I was once. He reminded me, there was more to life than fighting and killing. I didn’t want The Council to take that away.”

 

“Yet you ended your marriage to him, to be with Lord Scourge. Why?”

 

“Doc and I grew apart. I came to realize Scourge and I were kindred spirits. I wanted to help him regain what the Emperor took from him. We’ve spent countless hours talking. I learned a great deal from him, about Revan, Jedi and Sith history. He has an interesting perspective on things.”

 

“Then it’s just as I feared. He’s turned you from the light.”

 

“That’s the problem with Jedi, they think in absolutes. Ignorance is the true evil. Seeing from another’s perspective, doesn’t make you evil. If anything, I understand more. Remember the Voss? You were suspicious of them, because their ideas about the force differed from the Jedi. The Council feared training them. Even then, you blamed Lord Scourge’s influence.”

 

“I still do. You began to change after he joined your crew.”

 

“I changed when the Emperor captured me and the others. I broke free and came back, but what he did never left me. It will always be a part of who I am. I can’t change that, and I wouldn’t want to. I’m stronger for it.”

 

“For your own well-being, I would ask that you avoid socializing with Lord Scourge.”

 

“We’re no longer together.”

 

“Was that your decision or his?”

 

“His.”

 

“So what you’re saying is that left up to you, you would still be with him.”

 

“I don’t see the point in answering that.”

 

“This is why the Jedi forbid attachment. It leads to fear. You feared losing those closest to you, and that led to the ruin that’s taken over your life. Selfishness and recklessness have ruled your decisions. That has to change, so that you can be well again.”

 

“I’m not sick.”

 

“I sense overwhelming grief in you. Please remember…there is no emotion…there is only peace.”

 

“Peace is a lie.”

 

“I see we have a long road ahead of us.”

 

“I’m sure you think I haven’t been punished enough, but let me assure you I have, and I’m not referring to titles or prestige. What I’ve lost, I can’t get back. I don’t expect you to understand. I doubt you ever could.”

 

She dabbed at the corners of her eyes and then crossed her arms.

 

“You must trust me, I’m not the enemy.”

 

“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you Master Satele. I’m tired of trying to live up to other people’s expectations. I’m tired.”

 

“I’ve arranged to have your old room available to you. Take the next three days to rest. We’ll speak again.”

 

((To be continued…))

Edited November 29, 2015 by Lunafox

[frauzet]

Can I Force-choke Scourge? Just a little bit?

And maybe Satele, too?

Reading the last part definitely elicited some emotions, well done!

[Lunafox]

Can I Force-choke Scourge? Just a little bit?

And maybe Satele, too?

Reading the last part definitely elicited some emotions, well done!

 

He hee sure, have at 'em! And thank you! I'm glad that I was able to pull some emotion in this one.