Sianid Ascendant: Chapter 9

"Drellik, quickly...see to their wounds. Do not wake them. It is best they not know we were here."

"Of course, My Lord." Talos was off immediately to stabilize the ones lying in the snow.

"Denevee, see to the healer. Her condition is beyond his abilities, and she will need your help."

"Why are we helping them? They are Jedi!"

"Because, Republic or Empire, they have come here to do the right thing...despite the fact that it would be difficult...just as we must still do. To the healer, in particular, I owe a great debt, one which I intend to repay.

"And, I should add, one of them is my son."

--

The cat's tongue tickled her cheek. Master Casei opened her eyes slowly, feeling more tired and drained than she could ever remember. Her eyes scanned around the room for the bed, until she finally realized that she was ON it. "Dianiss?"

Master Annanya's face was blurry, but recognizable. "I don't know what you did, Casei, but you did it. She's alive." For what should have been good news, Annanya was not smiling.

After what Casei had just been through, she understood. "Anya . . . I SAW it."

--

Kendsel's head was still spinning as he awoke, and he barely fought off the wave of nausea that came over him. The cold air from the hole in the cockpit transparisteel helped, and soon he was feeling himself again. Looking around, he saw that he was still strapped into the pilot's seat of the Destiny, his weapon on the floor by his side. Looking outside, he saw that the ship was on the ground, its nose pointed slightly upward.

A quick systems check showed that the damage was minimal, and most of the electronic systems had reset after the EMP attack and resulting crash. Aside from some structural repairs (primarily that big hole in the cockpit window), Destiny could be space-worthy in a couple of hours.

Having checked the ship, he could no longer put off learning the bad news. He reached out with the Force, seeking out any and all presences in the vicinity. One by one he felt them, and with each one his spirits buoyed. Most of all, he found himself unable to suppress a tear of joy at the discovery that Master Casei was alive.

None of the Sith enemies were present. In fact, no one from the mysterious third Imperial ship was present either. But neither were Dianiss or Qyzen. The feeling of peace that this gave him actually surprised him.

What happened next surprised him even more.

The real world faded away as a wash of yellow covered everything, giving it an unearthly glow. In the center of this sea of brightness, two men stand talking to each other. Both are calm, both are confident. They are enemies, yet they are civil--even cordial--to each other. A sense of urgency begins to build, as if something important is about to happen. Their conversation continues, as if the discussion itself is some sort of contest, like a game of chess. That urgency builds to a rising crescendo until the critical moment arrives, frozen, and the scene breaks apart into a multitude of scenes all playing out simultaneously.

In most of them, the yellow glow is cast off into a hopeless darkness. Outside of that darkness, containing that darkness, is the image of Dianiss--cold, cruel, dark, murderous. In those scenes she is somehow alive and dead at the same time. She destroys all in her path--Sith, Jedi, loved ones, innocents--until the inevitable confrontation with the Sith Lords of the Dark Council. In a few of those scenes, she is defeated. In a few more, she is still defeated but destroys enough of the Dark Council that they are weakened, and replaced by other Lords even more dark and evil. In a few others, she is victorious over the entire Dark Council, but eventually defeated by the Jedi. But in the vast majority of them, she installs herself as the new Empress and begins a dark crusade to purge both Sith and Jedi alike, leaving the Empire unrecognizable and the Republic fallen. In all of these she is reviled throughout history as the sort of great evil that unites Sith and Jedi together in the single-minded crusade to destroy her--a crusade which fails . . . every single time.

The most remarkable thing, though, is there was not one of them--not a single one--where she'd actually been killed by those who fought against her.  At most, she'd been contained in some way, but remained the most dangerously evil being in the galaxy since the Emperor himself.

But in one of those scenes, the yellow glow is burned away by a shining bright white light. One of the men is imprisoned in that white light, while the other simply walks away. Outside that bright light is, again, the image of Dianiss. But she is alive and very much a Jedi. Instead of destroying, she heals. This one odd scene is similar to all the others except for one very special detail.

Galadina is there. She is . . . wait, is that right? . . . She's kicking Dianiss in the face.

As the multitude of images faded away into hazy obscurity, the real world settled back into place exactly where and how it had been just a moment ago.

"So..." he said to himself. "The fate of the galaxy depends on Dina kicking Dianiss in the face. On the down-side, she will never believe me."

"But..." he said with a shrug, "on the up-side, . . . she will definitely want to do it...."

--

Zarvell, Denevee, and Drellik had left Ilum over an hour ago and were in hyperspace, headed back to Dromund Kaas. Denevee waited in the conference room, puzzled. Zarvell entered and could see on her face that she had a million questions.

"WHAT . . . WAS . . . THAT?" she demanded.

"Denevee, I apologize for not briefing you in advance, but it is important that I not bias your observations by telling you what you should expect to see. I promise to answer what questions I can. But first, tell me in your own words what YOU saw."

"I don't even know where to begin."

"Then let's start with the Trandoshan."

"There were definitely TWO presences there . . . a 'hunter' and a 'monster', for lack of better names. Neither one seemed to be in control. No, that's not right. Both of them acted as if he were the one in control."

"And which one would you estimate really WAS in control?"

"That's hard to say. The monster was assertive and aggressive, and the hunter was not resisting him. They were not in disagreement on their actions. Both of them were trying to protect the Jedi girl."

"And did they ever disagree?"

"No, not that I remem-- . . . wait . . . that small creature on board. The monster felt hatred for it, wanted to kill it. But the hunter felt responsibility for it, like he wanted to protect it."

"And?"

"He . . . they? . . . took no action at all. The hunter felt relieved when it was released. The monster was upset."

"Okay now, the Jedi girl...."

"Wow. I've never seen anything like that. There had been THREE presences there. A little girl, a woman, and . . . something else. They were connected by blood."

"Who was?"

"Definitely the woman and the girl. Maybe even all three of them."

"Describe the 'something else', as you put it."

"It . . . he? . . . was ancient, like a ghost. Very dark. He wanted something. He was surrounding the little girl, suppressing her, keeping her from . . . I don't know. Something."

"Who was in control?"

"Hmmm...I think the woman wanted control, and seemed like she expected to have it at first. But she lost control. Then no one was in control. That's when the Jedi girl--well, her body--died. It was like her body was completely disconnected from her spirit."

"What happened next?"

"That Jedi healer . . . she intervened."

"How? What did she do?"

"She was able to connect with the little girl, even through all the darkness that surrounded her. They must have been close."

"And then?"

"He--the something else--was surrounding them both. But she was able to use that device, and through her connection to the little girl, it re-animated the girl's body."

Denevee paused a moment. "You said that he couldn't use the device without her. What did you mean?"

"I suppose, in retrospect, I should not have told you that. As I said, bias. I'll explain when we are finished."

"Okay."

"Now this is the important part: what happened next?"

"I'm not sure. He cast out the healer. She was hard to revive--I almost couldn't do it."

"I'm proud of you for that, by the way. I knew you could do it. You are connected to her, you know. But go on."

"After the girl's body was revived, there was still a vacuum of control. The woman was gone, and the little girl's natural connection to her own body was being held back. That left . . . just him."

"And the woman?"

"He pulled her back in somehow--after. Why would he do that?"

"Because my dear, unlike the Jedi, he knows very well how to defeat a Sith."

--

The Jedi strike team had regrouped and had a chance to assess the damage. The Scoundrel's Vacation was undamaged, and now served as their temporary headquarters while they regrouped. The Destiny would need some repairs, but would be able to lift off and fly on her own power. The Pure Light, however, would have to be recovered later by a Republic salvage ship--the damage was far too extensive for on-planet repairs this far out from the Republic.

The toll on life and limb was also bad, but could have been far worse. There were many wounds and broken bones among the team, but no deaths--including, miraculously, Master Casei. Of the entire team, only Kendsel, Annanya, and Zedemm were essentially unhurt. Kari also was in surprisingly good shape, considering the size of the rock that had been rolled over her. She insisted that she'd suffered worse.

Clearly some unknown benefactor had administered emergency medical care to stabilize their conditions. No one could explain *why*.

The worst casualties were Casei and Galadina. Casei was stable, but extremely weak--too weak to be of any assistance with healing the others' wounds. She was now in the holding capsule in the cargo hold--the one intended for Dianiss had they captured her--immersed in kolto for a quicker recovery. At least the security precautions, like the venting of the cargo bay to the vacuum of space, weren't necessary.

Galadina had a broken arm, but--worse--was unconscious...and nothing anyone did seemed to be able to wake her.

So Kendsel stayed by her side . . . just like he did back on Tython, all those years ago.

Once the team was up to it, they recovered as many personal items, supplies, and cargo containers from the Pure Light as possible, and began the trip back to Tython.

The mission was a complete failure, and the Grand Master of the Jedi Council would not be happy about it.

--

"Remarkable, isn't she, Ashara?" Zash asked. Dianiss lay on the bunk in front of them, unconscious. Everyone else was spread around the ship, recovering from their various wounds and generally keeping their distance from one another. Even Sianid was still in her quarters, with Andronikos monitoring her condition, sleeping off the draining effects of the possession.

Ashara was awake, but with a splitting headache. It seemed that her Jedi opponent knew just where to hit her--a Togruta--on her montrails to produce the maximum effect. It was taking some time for her spacial awareness and balance to come back. At least the nausea had finally gone away.

"She's certainly beautiful, and the resemblance is uncanny. I'd heard a lot about her, but I never thought I'd be looking her straight in the face like this." Ashara responded.

"Well, that's all certainly true as well. But what I meant was: one so young, so powerful, AND already a miraculous vessel for great power . . . she's perfect."

"I don't understand. Perfect for what?" That was strange thing for Zash to bring up.

"Well, at some point in the near future, there will be no further need for the Trandoshan. And when that happens, I should find myself in a . . . delicate . . . situation."

"Delicate?" Ashara asked. She was genuinely curious where this was going.

"I should very much like to be free of the Dashade before he returns."

"I don't think freedom is in either one of our futures, My Lord, no matter how much we both crave it." Ashara thought that maybe she could even steer this conversation her way.

"Ah, but it could be. You see, right now, the monster is enjoying a measure of freedom that he otherwise would not have . . . because the Trandoshan is not bound to her like this body is. If I were him, I'd want to make that situation permanent. I believe that is why he's made no attempt to return.

"I, too, would like the same thing. Use the Force, Ashara. You can plainly see that the girl's spirit is gone. Only the dark power remains. Once my former apprentice has taken what she wants from this vessel, it could still be useful to me to complete the work I began long ago.

"And this girl's body . . . it is . . . not . . . bound to her, either."

"So, My Lord, how does this solve MY problem?" Clearly Zash wanted Ashara's help, or she'd not be discussing this. Ashara hoped that this would get the message across that she was open to that.

"Well, child, this can go one of three ways. First, my apprentice gets what she wants and I am consigned to oblivion once again, in which case you remain consigned to her servitude. Second, she acquires this power she seeks, and I am able to take the girl's body for my own. Of course, in that case she'll never abide having me free of her control, and so a power struggle will follow, which I . . . MIGHT be able to win. But you should know by now, the use of power is NOT the path to defeating a Sith."

"You want me to help you take her body AND her power, before Sianid does. Then she can't oppose you." Good. Zash did get the message, loud and clear.

"I knew you were smart, my dear. I could really use an apprentice like you, but if freedom is your desire . . . ?"

"It is, My Lord."

"Then I think we have an understanding."

--

"So, Dina, since I know you can hear me, I've got some great news."

Kendsel was sitting next to Galadina, who was still lying unconscious on board the Scoundrel's Vacation on their way back to Tython. Lieutenant Iresso kindly agreed to take temporary command of the Destiny for the return trip so that Kendsel could stay with her.

Plus, Major Kendsel did kind of give the Lieutenant an order.

"Let's see. We failed to get Dianiss back. That's not the great news, by the way."

"Um, we also lost Qyzen Fess, . . . but that's not it either."

"We got our butts handed to us by Dianiss--JUST Dianiss. Nope, pretty sure that's not it."

"That crazy Sith Synzia single-handedly brought down my ship with nothing but a lightsaber and the Force. I suppose that's kind of impressive, but no, that's not it."

He took her hand into both of his.

"Also, I saw what you did. It was hard to miss. You stood firm against a blast of raw power AND an explosion of the Force like I've never seen before. I always knew you were good, but damn! You've been holding out on me! That's kind of cool, but you know, that's not the great news either."

"After all that, I can see your aura still there. I can hear your heartbeat."

"That's some really, really great news right there."

He gave her a tender kiss on the cheek.

She did not respond.

"There is still one thing I've been meaning to ask you . . . that is . . . IF you'll just please quiet down long enough for me to ask."

"What actually IS the difference between a Jedi Master and a gigantic slut?"

"Because now you have me looking at Master Casei, Master Annanya, and even Master Shan in a whole different way, and I'm just terribly, terribly confused."

Was that a twitch at the corners of her mouth?

"I mean, admittedly, I never became a Master myself, so I'm unfamiliar with the customs. Is there some secret initiation ritual for when they grant you the title of Master where you do something kind of . . . slutty? Because, if so, I'm REALLY disappointed that you didn't call on your best buddy Ken for assistance.  You KNOW I'd have been there for you . . . just, y'know, as a favor, not because I would've enjoyed it or anything."

Her shallow breathing was interrupted by a couple of sudden exhale puffs.

"And I really think you're being unfair about the whole 'gigantic' thing . . . just because someone is taller than you doesn't make them gigantic. It just makes them--I don't know--an adult?"

That was definitely a twitch at her mouth.

"Now if you want to talk about gigantic, I knew this Vanguard from the north of Alderaan . . . now HE was gigantic. He ate a steady diet of waffles, bacon, and ice cream. You could tell where he was from because of his accent, if you know what I'm talking a-boh-oot."

Was that a smile forming?

"He would wear this ridiculous hat into battle . . . apparently it was a trophy he took from some Hutt way back when. If someone hit it, it would actually make a ringing sound."

That's a smile. Definitely.

"And--since we're on the subject of Dianiss--there was this one time, he actually went into battle with no pants on."

Now she was definitely giggling. "Nooooooooo." she moaned.

"True story--I am not making this up. Imagine: fat guy in full battle armor except his pants and with that crazy hat instead of a normal helmet, charging into the front lines like it's the most normal thing in the galaxy. And believe me, his legs were NOT as nice to look at as hers are. I've never been so jealous of you 'lukas in my life."

She was starting to stir a little.

"So, getting back to that special initiation to become a Master . . . is it something you have to renew periodically, like heavy weapons qualification?  If so, I really want to know."

She pulled her hand away from his and gave it a light smack. "Stop it . . . it hurts when I laugh."

--

Sianid awoke, on her own ship and in her own body, unexpectedly. She had attempted to re-connect with Dianiss, and although it seemed to work, she woke up again immediately.

Also, she could tell from the "feel" of the ship that they were in space--the only sounds to be heard were the ship's running engines combined with the complete absence of ambient sound from the planet that had just been there a moment ago.

A glance over at the chronometer only confused things further; it appeared as if a few hours had passed. "Ashara?"

"She's nursing a nasty headache right now." It was Andronikos' gravelly voice that responded. "How ya feeling?"

"Confused, mostly. What happened?"

"Well, for one, that red psycho-chick friend of yours apparently got pissed off at us for some reason and decided that she wasn't on our side anymore--if she ever was. Khem got you out of there, and you managed to take out what remaining Jedi were still standing."

"I don't remember any of this."

"Really? That's too bad. You were using some moves I'd never seen before. Even Zash said it was stuff she'd only read about."

"Where is Dianiss now?"

"She's in the crew quarters. Zash is watching over her, while I'm over watching you. I think I got the better end of the deal." He leaned over to touch her cheek.

"I want to see her. Now."

--

Back on Tython, Galadina was sitting alone in the Hall of Heroes, meditating. The pain from her bruises and broken arm was a distraction, but the struggle to overcome it gave her a sense of purpose. She needed that.

"Hello, Master Galadina."

She was startled to hear a voice coming from behind her. Evidently the pain was more of a distraction than she realized, if she didn't even notice the approach of her former master.

"Master Nora, you startled me."

"Forgive me. I wasn't aware it was even possible to sneak up on you. May I join you?"

"Of course."

"What brings you down here?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I needed to think."

The Hall of Heroes displayed holo-statues of some of the most famous and most honored Jedi in history, such as Revan, Bastila Shan, Zez-Kai Ell, Vrook Lamar, Vandar Tokare, Meetra Surik, Mira, and scores of others.

On this particular occasion, Dina found herself sitting in front of the statue of Master Jomae "Hoss" Delaxnei, studying the details, trying to get the sense of the man.

"Master Nora, did you know him?"

"I did, for a short time. I'm sure the masters on the Council could tell you more-they knew him longer than I did--but I'm grateful for the short time I did know him. I learned quite a bit from him in that time. I can tell you this: he was, in many ways, the best of us. Kind. Generous. Helpful. We would all do well to strive to be more like the example he set. And I do miss him. Our world was a better place because he was in it."

After a long pause, Dina responded, "I doubt he would have failed like I just did."

Finally, there it was.

"Can I share something with you, Dina?"

"Of course."

"Now, it's not as if I've trained THAT many Padawans, but of those few, you were easily the most difficult."

"I'm sorry, Master Nora."

"No, no. Don't be. Hear me out. What I mean is this: I've never encountered a more driven, motivated student, then or since. It's as if you came to the Order a fully-formed Jedi Master: smart, compassionate, strong in the Force, devoted to the light. I'm sure you would have become one of the finest Shadows in the Order, if you had made that choice."

"Thank you, Master."

"Instead, I was delighted that you chose to be a Guardian--and I suppose I vainly believed that another Miraluka would follow in my footsteps and be just like me. But the reality is: you and I, we are simply too different. But back then, if you'll pardon the expression, I just didn't see it."

The little in-joke drew a smile from Dina's face before she continued.

"The only thing that young Jedi Initiate Galadina was missing was some combat training, and you absorbed that so quickly that you started doing--as a Padawan, mind you--new, innovative things that some masters had never done. So what could *I* possibly teach *you*, one of the finest Jedi I've ever met?"

"You taught me plenty, Master."

"No, you taught *yourself* plenty. Zedemm saw to that, and it was the right thing for him to do. His teaching methods can be . . . we'll say 'harsh' and leave it at that . . . but with you they worked unbelievably well because you just can't stand losing.

"In reality, there was just one lesson that I needed to teach you, and I fear that I've failed you on that one thing. But maybe now I can remedy that."

"I don't understand."

"No, of course not. You are so good at what you do that you have never really tasted defeat. And now that you have, you've found yourself completely unprepared for it."

Nora pointed up at Jomae's image. "Do you think HE was never beaten?"

"I . . . I guess I never thought about it."

"Of course he was beaten. That's what we do. But being beaten is not the same as being defeated. That is the lesson I never really taught you. You were always so focused--to the point of obsession--with avoiding, blocking, dodging, and countering every attack, that you've lost what the difference between beaten and defeated is."

Dina looked up, a bit confused.

"When you were a Padawan, how many times did we say the words? I always had my doubts that you really took them to heart. But now, I think maybe you're starting to understand. I am a Jedi Guardian. I protect and defend those around me.  We do that by taking the beatings ourselves, so that others don't have to."

"Yeah but you'd also say 'I take beatings for fun and so should you.' back then."

"Oh, come on. Where's your sense of humor? If you're going to act like an old man, then maybe I'll start calling you that."

"What?"

"So let's review. Yeah, you took a beating that would have flattened any one of those Padawans outside, including that former-Sith Pada-whatever whom you were protecting and defending. According to Master Annanya, the WAY you did it was downright brilliant, and she's going to start teaching that now. She's alive, he's alive, you're alive, and of the three of you, you're the only one who actually got hurt--but, I say again, not flattened.

"That was a fine bit of tanking you did there, Old Man."

"Thank you, Master Nora. You really were a great master."

"Oh, I know." Nora said with a grin.  "I just wish I'd gotten the chance to be yours."

--

It was a message from "ArchAngel" for "Angel of Death".

AD,
The endgame approaches.
Come home.
If you can, bring the little one. Impressed.
-AA


"Teeseven? We need to contact Master Galadina."

"Master Galadina = injured // T7 = worried"

"No need for worry, she'll be fine. And it's quite possible that I owe her my life."

"T7 = grateful // ArchAngel = correct :: Master Galadina = impressive!"

"And now I must ask her for a favour."

"Dromund Kaas = dangerous // T7 + Zedemm + Galadina = invincible!"

"I do hope you're right, my friend. Unfortunately, our most recent encounter does offer some compelling evidence to the contrary."