Now this chapter I’ve been waiting years to write. Soundtracks: general mood is Corpse Party (one of the best tracks on the OST imo), I used If by Ayane for Ashara’s determined charge, and I can finally, finally bust out the main theme song! WHOO LET’S F-ING GO, LET’S DO THIS, BABY
Part 29: Don’t Forget Me
Ashara tried to will the elevator to go faster, only one thing on her mind – to catch up with Murlesson and… and… She wanted to beat the ghosts out of him, but how could she do that? If it were so easy, Murlesson would have done it a long time ago. He was much cleverer than she was, after all. Her heart hurt, her eyes hurt, she wanted to scream and cry and collapse in despair.
Logically, there was nothing to be done. Zash had looked, and Ashara and Drellik had helped her look, and they’d all found nothing about unbinding Force ghosts or curing the malevolent effects of possession by Force ghosts. Logically, Murlesson was gone, practically already dead, and the ghosts were all that was left.
But those screams still rang in her ears and she shuddered, trying still not to cry. She was going to get him back, come hell or high water. She just wished she knew what to do or how to do it.
She managed to pull herself out of her own head by the bottom of the elevator. She was helping Xalek to carry Sabran, who was shockingly light for their height, even though they were a lot shorter than she was. They had probably undergone weeks of abuse. Probably needed a dip in kolto and a bunch of square meals. She didn’t know how they were dealing with everything, with the horrible Sith artifact being gone, with Janelle being dead, with being rescued by Aristheron, but their mind was clouded and she wasn’t going to pry. She wasn’t the only one going through a hard time right now.
Major Stroud met them in the middle of the plaza. “The Republic’s surrendered, my lord! All the fighting has ended.”
Aristheron gave him a look of mild almost-surprise. “Oh, really?”
“Yes,” said a dour, stiff-looking Cathar in Republic uniform behind Stroud. “Commander Ry Min. I’m here to surrender to you, Lord Laskaris. Your forces were… overwhelming.” Ashara wondered if she detected a hint of confusion – why risk restarting the war with two whole fleets on Salvara of all places when there were much better targets elsewhere? Or something like that, probably. It was a good question, but it was all tied up in Force business that Aristheron probably had no inclination of explaining.
“Splendid,” Aristheron said distantly. “I accept. Major, I’m needed elsewhere-”
“Oi!” Andronikos, Talos, and Vany were also nearby, and now the pirate pointed vehemently at the sky. “That’s my- that’s our ship! Who’s in the Viper?”
Ashara sniffled. “Murlesson’s gone, Andronikos. The ghosts finally won. I bet that’s him.”
“What?” Andronikos wrinkled his nose in dismay. “Poor bugger. What’s the plan, then?”
“Oh, that explains why a body came falling out of the tower,” Stroud said. “My men went to investigate, to see if there was anything left, but they were all killed by lightning and the ‘body’ ran off.”
“Oh no,” Ashara said. “I’m sorry.”
Aristheron was on his commlink. “Clay.”
“Here, my lord,” Commodore Clay answered.
“The Viper appears to be leaving the planet. I want it tracked.”
“Yes, my lord.” If Clay wondered at the order, he wasn’t giving any sign of it.
Aristheron hung up. “Also, Major, there should have been another piece of debris thrown from the tower shortly before the body – a mask. I want it or its fragments found.”
“Yes, my lord!” Stroud turned and passed on the order to a pair of soldiers near to him, and they took off at a run.
Ry Min looked back and forth between them. “May I ask what that was? Ghosts?”
“None of your concern,” Aristheron said smoothly. He thought for a minute, then nodded. “Commander, you and your troops will be returned to the Republic immediately. This world is now back under Imperial control. The Republic has mishandled it and nearly allowed it to come to ruin by Master Kel Reu Giri’s interference.”
Ry Min grimaced. “That’s very generous of you, my lord, to allow us to go free, but by the treaty, Salvara belongs-”
“I am not in the mood to discuss it,” Aristheron said, suddenly cold and haughty. “You are no longer welcome here, Commander. Be glad that I am offering you the chance to retreat honourably.” Huh, that would probably make the Republic a little less upset about losing the planet in the first place. Not by much, though, she’d bet. She hoped Aristheron didn’t get in trouble over it.
The Cathar scowled. “Thank you, my lord. And what of Giri?”
“What of him?” Aristheron said. “He is dead. Tell the Jedi I cleaned up their mess for them before many lives were lost.”
Sabran raised their head. “I can attest to that, Commander.”
“S-Sabran Kentalon!” Ry Min jumped, her green eyes wide. “W-what happened to you?”
“I was used,” Sabran said slowly. “By Master Giri. But he is dead, by Lord Laskaris’s hand. I’m sorry. I couldn’t save him.”
“Will Kentalon also be returned to the Republic?” Ry Min demanded. “You will not be taking them prisoner, will you?”
Sabran shook their head. “I will be going with Lord Laskaris of my own free will. You misunderstand me, Commander. I could not turn Master Giri back to the Light… so Lord Laskaris had no choice but to kill him. And it was the right thing to do. But Lord Laskaris’s friend, Lord Kallig, is in trouble. I… wish to aid him, to repay this debt that I owe.”
“I don’t understand,” Ry Min said. “Kentalon-”
“It is not your decision,” Aristheron said. “I will respect Kentalon’s choice until our paths part ways. Whatever else occurs is not your responsibility. The only thing pertinent to you is that Salvara is Imperial once more, and that is final. Major?”
“Yes, my lord!” Stroud gestured to Ry Min. “Right then, Commander, let’s get your people into transports.”
One nice thing was that Aristheron had the Kollyrion back, Ashara considered. It was a lot like the Viper, except it had a narrower profile, more triangular instead of vaguely hexagonal, and was more luxurious throughout the interior. Somehow they’d all managed to squeeze in, Aristheron, Vany, Ashara, Andronikos, Talos, Xalek, and Khem. And Sabran, currently installed in the tiny medbay on the bottom floor beside the dorm, submerged in kolto for at least 24 hours.
While Vany flew the Kollyrion, Aristheron met with the rest of them in the central lounge on the top floor. Ashara was really glad that he was taking leadership on this. He always seemed to know what to do, whenever she met him; he had the confidence and the resources and she was just amazed by how well he hid his presence in the Force, even though she knew it was necessary. She’d known he was a pretty decent dude, and sure his Light side didn’t feel anything like a Jedi, tinged as it was with aggressive reds and oranges, but she found she liked the idea of a Light-sided Sith. He’d probably be good to negotiate with when it came time to establish a lasting peace with the Empire. Live and let live, especially when the other side was also letting them live, right? Man, her opinion of Sith had changed since she started living with one. A lot of them were still evil and wanted to conquer the Republic and install terrible totalitarian fascist racist sexist governments, but now she knew at least to check before trying to fight them.
And now Aristheron was letting down his guard a little, and that was weird. He was standing with his hands on his hips, frowning at the holoprojector in the centre of the lounge.
“Where’s he going?” she asked.
Aristheron magnified the projection with quick, disgruntled movements. “It appears he’s heading to a planet named Voss.”
“What,” she said. “Giri was just there, Murlesson said you said a couple days ago.”
“Indeed,” Aristheron said. “I recall there is said to be a great concentration of Dark Side energy there, that Giri perhaps visited.”
“Why would the kid want to go there?” Andronikos said. “Er… or his ghosts? It’s his ghosts, isn’t it?”
“I really couldn’t say why for sure,” Zash said slowly. Khem had actually willingly relinquished control temporarily to allow her to speak, and if that wasn’t a miracle in itself, or a sign of how dire things were, Ashara didn’t know what was. “Perhaps they wish to take power from it… perhaps they want to join with it. Perhaps they simply want to take a look at it, curious as they are about the current state of the galaxy, and decide what to do when they get there later. As the entire planet is a recent discovery, I really can’t do more than speculate right now.”
Ashara sighed and grumbled, but she didn’t blame Zash. None of them really knew what they were doing, not even Aristheron.
“When will we arrive?” asked a very deep, very smooth voice, and everyone turned to look, because it was Xalek.
“Two days,” Aristheron said. “We will not be far behind him. The Kollyrion is a match in hyperspace for the Viper. He won’t get away.”
“I didn’t expect you to be the one to ask,” Ashara said in surprise.
Xalek stared at her levelly from behind his bone mask. “Lord Kallig is my master and my warleader. I will either recover him or give him a god’s death.”
“That’s right, we should talk about what to do when we catch up to him!” Talos said. “Er… but that’s really not my area of expertise. If he ends up in a tomb, I can perhaps tell you its historical significance…”
Zash tapped a finger against her chin. “We may have to play it by ear as we go. I can’t feel the Force as I once could, but what I saw up in the tower, while Khem was faffing about being useless…” She shrugged helplessly. “They’re bound to him. Even if he somehow found the strength to reassert his will, he wouldn’t be able to be free of them. He spent so much in that battle, they were able to seize the opportunity to override him before he could recover. And they won’t be letting him recover now.”
“So if we could knock them out for a bit and let him rest, we’d at least get him back, right?” Andronikos said.
“For a little while, but don’t forget he’s still falling apart physically,” Zash said. “Very soon we’d be right back where we started, if we even made it that far.”
“Well, I’m not giving up!” Ashara cried. “I… I can’t believe there isn’t something we can do! I know I thought it was hopeless when you said you couldn’t find a cure, but… I refuse to give up hope now! I mean, I don’t know, maybe all of us together, we can fight the ghosts, or… or something!”
Zash shook her head. “Ever since I ascertained there wasn’t a cure, he was deteriorating fast. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it until after this fight with Giri.”
“He would have been weak and vulnerable then, even so,” Aristheron said. “But now that I am free of that conflict, I will stop at nothing to rescue him. Like Ashara, I have not relinquished hope. But first we must find him and prevent him from running from us again.”
“So Voss, huh?” Andronikos said. “Guess I’ll look up what we can find out on the deep holonet.”
“And I’ll inquire through my own channels,” Talos said. “I’m sure the Reclamation Service has a few notes somewhere, even though we don’t have a large presence there.”
“Can I do anything to help either of you?” Ashara said.
“I will need you to look after Sabran,” Aristheron said to her. “They will be most comfortable in your care, I believe.”
“Okay,” she acquiesced. That would keep her occupied, mostly, at least after Sabran was out of kolto. “Thanks, everyone!”
Sabran was out of kolto the following day, but still resting. They needed nourishment, and rest, and as they put it jokingly, a new dye job. The kolto had leeched a bit more of the blue out of their hair, leaving most of it a motley green. But Aristheron didn’t have things like hair dye lying around, and they certainly weren’t making any side trips, so they shrugged with unconcern and went into a meditation for most of the second day. Ashara tried not to be antsy. They were going to arrive at Voss the following day, would they be well enough to join them like they wanted to?
By the end of the day, they were much more alert, and Ashara finally found the courage to ask what had happened with Kel Reu Giri. Sabran was completely willing to talk about it, too. “I’m not very good at telling stories, but, well, let’s see. I always believed in the power of diplomacy over the power of war. Certainly, I’ve enjoyed pitting my blade against Aristheron, but if I ever managed to kill him, I would have been so disappointed. I know he’s been annoyed by my always trying to talk him down during our duels, but anyway, you know.” They gave a wry half-smile. “Annoyance at me talking too much or too pacifistically is really a minor thing in the grand scheme of things. So I like to keep talking.”
“I respect that,” Ashara said. “I… am no good with words, and I don’t really have the patience to use them instead of fighting, even when I really try. I’ll never be a Master, that’s for sure. I just aspire to be the person you call for when you really need bad guys stopped in their tracks, I know there’s a place for people like me. But what does this have to do with Giri?”
“Oh, right… I told you I’m a bad storyteller. Well, I’ve known for as long as Jan – Janelle – did that Master Giri was Falling. But she wanted to just stop him, to oppose him, to push him back before he hurt anyone. Like you might, I think. I wanted to coax him back, to pull him instead of push. I believed he could be redeemed, right up to the end, even after he betrayed me. So I stayed with him, though after he betrayed me it wasn’t possible for me to leave. But… I guess I was wrong. I couldn’t stop him. I could barely talk him out of some of his worst actions…” They frowned, their soul flickering with unrest. “I couldn’t talk him out of using me.”
“I don’t think you’re wrong,” Ashara said. “You’re a much better Jedi than me. Giri was just… too crazy. You didn’t have the right environment to succeed. And you needed a lot more back-up, like, say, the whole Jedi Council? Maybe? Geez, they should have helped you more.”
Sabran shrugged. “It is nice of you to say so. I don’t think I would be able to stop trying to talk people over to peace even if it is wrong. But as for the Council… you’re right, but it was important, at least at first, that Master Giri didn’t feel like we were spying on him. That wouldn’t have helped at all. And when things began to get worse… you’re right. I should have found some way to bring him back to the Council.” They were silent for a minute, before shaking off the past. It wasn’t good for a Jedi to dwell on failures. “But anyway, I don’t know when he got the Weeper. I think he raided it from a storehouse of a Darth Emmet, I think Aristheron’s former master. And I didn’t know what it was until… well, I found it shortly after we arrived on Salvara, and asked him about it, because it was clearly a very Dark artifact, and…” Sabran stopped.
“That’s when he betrayed you?” Ashara asked, her heart pounding in reaction to sudden pain from Sabran.
“I think he drugged me,” Sabran said slowly. “I don’t remember much, only feelings. He… felt a little remorse, but mostly… he hardened his heart, and I never felt anything kind from him again. But once he implanted it in me, he didn’t need to drug me anymore. I was just a conduit, barely able to retain consciousness of my own.” They took a deep, calming breath. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Ashara leaned forward and gave them a hug. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. And I’m so sorry about Janelle, I really liked her. We’ve been in touch the last few months, ever since I met her, and…” Ashara swallowed, trying not to cry, but she couldn’t help it. She still didn’t know a lot of people who had died – Master Ryen, Master Ocera, and now Janelle… Every one of them still caused her pain. There is no death, only the Force. There is no chaos, only harmony.
Sabran hesitantly reached up to hug her back. “I’m glad you were able to be friends with Janelle. I can tell she would have liked you.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
Ashara didn’t see much of Voss from orbit, but she was grateful yet again to Aristheron taking charge. Andronikos explained that it was a neutral planet being courted by both the Empire and the Republic, so all foreigners were directed to dock at the relatively small space station in orbit and then take a shuttle to the surface. Additionally, there was no official business for Aristheron to be there on, so the Republic embassy, the Voss government, and even the Imperial embassy attempted to bar them passage. No one remembered seeing Murlesson, but the Viper was also docked there, and when Aristheron demanded they check their security recordings, a lurching hooded figure had been recorded, taking a shuttle to the surface and then vanishing out into the wilderness in the eastern hemisphere. She wondered; surely the ghosts knew how Murlesson could scramble security cameras, so was this a taunt to them? Or had they just not felt like it, content with being unseen by biological security?
Aristheron didn’t deign to raise his voice, but he knew his status, and his resources, and how to use them. ‘Let us in so we can pick up one person who isn’t even supposed to be there or we call in two fleets and destroy years’ worth of diplomatic progress and to hell with the aftermath’ was a crazy way to apply pressure, but no one dared call his bluff, and they were all granted permission to land, every one of their wacky gang. It was massively less subtle than Murlesson would have done, and actually probably a lot riskier, but it was really fast. It sure was nice to have a Sith nobleman on their side!
She had to admit that her first impression of Voss was really, really nice. The city was laid out in a wide-open fashion, in a way that Murlesson would probably dismiss as ‘horribly inefficient’, but his favourite planet was Nar Shaddaa so what could she expect from him anyway. She liked it; it had space to breathe, and was filled with trees and art. And it was on a mountaintop, and right from the shuttlepad she could see for miles and miles, out across a beautiful tawny-coloured autumnal-ish landscape of mountains and forests, even more ruddy in the light of the setting sun. She couldn’t see any other settlements, so the entire planet looked pristine from her current viewpoint.
A grumpy throat-clearing brought her back to her immediate surroundings. A pure-blood Sith was marching up to meet them, flanked by Imperial soldiers and a few Voss soldiers too. She’d seen holos during their research, but she couldn’t help staring now that she saw them in person. They were so colourful, like living paintings! But the Sith was scowling. “Lord Laskaris, I am Darth Severin, Imperial Ambassador to Voss-ka. May I ask what is the meaning of this? You can’t just run roughshod over our mission here just because you want to. Your blundering could cost the Empire months of work!”
“I am not interested in your protests, Darth Severin,” Aristheron said shortly. “The sooner you point us in the direction of Lord Kallig, the sooner we shall depart and leave you in peace.”
Ashara tried not to fidget. Aristheron was supposedly subtly using the Force to keep Severin’s attention on himself, to keep it away from the two obvious Jedi, and that was why she was hanging really far back, but it still made her nervous. There is no emotion, there is peace. Also, I’m not even here, I’m not important, don’t look at me.
Severin huffed. “My lord, this is not a tourist resort.”
“I do not think it is,” Aristheron answered coldly. “I am not here to waste your time. This is necessary – unless you want Lord Kallig to go completely mad and ruin your mission far better than anything I could manage. May I remind you he arrived completely undetected?”
“Very well,” Severin said, his expression unrelenting but his aura giving up. “In that case, would you care to follow me to the embassy? There are a few things I should brief you on before you leave the city.”
“Very well,” Aristheron said. “Lieutenant Drellik, with me.”
In a few minutes he was back, and directed them towards an eastbound shuttle headed to the outpost of Gehn’s Overlook. They flew for about an hour, almost half-way across the planet, passing quickly through the night and coming into the sunrise. Aristheron said almost nothing on the flight. Ashara jittered ferociously, joggling one knee after another until Sabran, beside her, took one of her hands and began meditating. It was helpful, and she could try to centre herself, to keep her fears at bay while she couldn’t do anything about them. Seriously, no emotion, only peace.
When they landed, Aristheron sought out the local Imperial commander and requested lodging. Ashara thought that was weird, but stayed quiet. They were granted a tent on the outskirts of the outpost, near to the defensive walls. They weren’t stopping here, were they?
“Okay, what’s up?” Vany said the moment they made it to the tent. “What’s the scoop?”
Aristheron nodded, looking to make sure no one else was listening in, and pointed at the forest outside the camp, a forest that stretched back into dark, ominous mountains. “Murlesson took the shuttle here, arriving in the local morning several hours ago, and disappeared into those mountains. The area is known as the Forbidden Lands, and the very centre of it is known as the Dark Heart.”
“Sounds dramatic,” Andronikos grunted. “Why is it forbidden?”
“Oh, is this where that entity lives?” Ashara asked. “The Dark Side entity?” She felt it, the dark pall over the land out there, though she couldn’t feel any distinct entities from this distance. But she had no doubt that something was lurking out there.
Aristheron nodded. “In local folklore, it is called Sel-Makor, and it is said to drive mad any who venture near. Darth Serevin himself said that a number of Sith researching on the edge of the forest are losing their grip on sanity, and that’s to say nothing of those who venture in but never came out.”
“No one ever comes out again, do they?” Talos said.
“That’s what I have been told,” Aristheron said. “Sabran?”
Sabran was looking troubled. “Master Giri had sent me away to investigate the planet Felucia while he came here, and he was changed when he returned. Whatever or whoever he encountered or found here, I don’t think it was the cause of his madness… but it made it worse.”
“And now we gotta go in there,” Andronikos said, and grimaced. “Figures. But the kid’s already mad, how much madder can he get?”
<The pilot is foolish for asking,> Khem said. <Mad Sith are not to be joked about, for they can always become more mad. And the more mad they become, the more they must be delivered to death.>
“And here I thought you liked mad Sith,” Andronikos said.
Khem growled at him. <No one likes mad Sith. Not even other Sith.>
“Only those who wield the Force should come, and Khem Val, I will not hinder you,” Aristheron said. “Drellik, Revel, I would ask you to stay here and prepare this tent to receive injured – or the insane. Your minds are not trained to withstand such an assault. Vany, I must ask you to stay with them.”
Vany gave him an unhappy look. “I understand. I don’t like being left on the sidelines again while you deal with Force stuff. But I won’t slow you down. Just… please come back, okay? Don’t be another of those spooky unsolved mysteries.”
“I will do my best,” Aristheron said to her.
“Got it,” Andronikos grunted. “C’mon, Drellik, Vany. We don’t know what they’re gonna need when they get back.”
Aristheron turned to the others. “Let us be off. We’ll cut through anything that gets in our way until we reach Murlesson.”
Ashara punched her fist into her other palm. “Sounds like my kind of plan.”
They pushed into the forest together, following the faint traces of Murlesson’s distorted Darkness. The trees were not densely packed, and the sun still shone down between their leaves, but there was a coldness in the air that spoke not of winter but of malice. She felt uneasy, as if they were being watched, feeling hyper aware of all of herself.
Xalek’s lightsaber hummed to life. “Attackers.”
Maybe she wasn’t going crazy, as she saw the people assembling in front of them – there were slack-jawed Imperial and Republic soldiers, but there were also big, sturdy, scaly green humanoids dressed in crude, heavy metal armour and hefting large weapons, both blaster cannons and melee weapons. The strange people gathered from further in the forest, raising their weapons and charging at their little group, who drew their weapons and prepared to meet them.
“Interesting,” Aristheron said. “They are mind-controlled by some Dark power. Whether by Murlesson or Sel-Makor, I cannot say… But they are placed here to slow us down.”
Sabran had drawn their lightsaber along with the rest of them, but they lowered it. “Perhaps we don’t have to fight them. I don’t wish to kill anyone forced to fight.”
“As you wish,” Aristheron said. “But they are already insane. They have no mind of their own left. To slay them now would be a mercy.”
Sabran bowed their head. “You are right. Be at peace, my friends.”
Ashara hesitated. She didn’t want to kill them either. But Aristheron spoke truly, she could feel it in them.
She set her stance and her heart, and charged after Aristheron into the teeth of the oncoming blaster fire.
They won, but that was only the beginning of their battle. There were more zombie-like fighters, in increasingly tattered armour, looking increasingly gaunt, mere husks of whoever they’d been before. The ground grew hilly as they fought onwards, the trees grew more thickly, taller, and more twisted, and signs of ancient civilization began to lurk underfoot and between thickets – a flight of worn stairs here, a crumbling wall here. She wondered if Murlesson would know anything about them, once they got him back.
Finally, the Darkness seemed to run out of bodies to throw at them, settling back into brooding watchfulness from wherever it lurked in the hills. At least, that was how it felt to Ashara. The others were having some kind of greater difficulty, as if their steps were becoming heavier. “Are you guys okay?”
Aristheron squared his shoulders bullishly and stomped forward. “Sel-Makor does not want us here. How is it you still walk freely?”
“It’s her connection,” Sabran said, pale and sweating. They had probably been fighting too much, and now forcing their way through this Darkness…!
“You don’t look so great,” she said. “Maybe you should go back?”
“I can’t go back alone,” Sabran said wryly. “And I don’t think anyone can be spared to go with me. It’s only because all of us are together that we can withstand this pressure enough to continue.”
Aristheron had stopped, looking at her. “Yes, Sabran is correct. You have a connection to Murlesson, far stronger than any of us. You can follow him, because you are the one he cares about most. He must be calling out to you even now.”
Thoughts of those hours spent together a couple nights ago flooded her mind uninvited, and she blushed and looked away – he wasn’t just talking about that! “Well, but you’ve been his friend since Korriban, right? And Khem’s been with him since then too, even if you weren’t exactly friends when you started.”
<We are still not ‘friends’,> Khem said.
“And I think you’re the biggest tsundere I’ve ever met,” she muttered.
Aristheron looked off into the distance, then back to her. “He does not have a lot of time left. Loathe though I am to suggest it, you may be better off to go on ahead.”
“Alone?” She hadn’t been alone… ever, in her whole life, besides that one time that Murlesson came to save her in the dark forest of Yavin IV.
“The Dark Heart is open to you,” Aristheron said. “But not to us. Not yet. We shall follow you. If there is madness here, we will face it together. But you should wield your advantage, and go to him before it’s too late.”
“Okaydoke.” She wouldn’t be alone, just… ahead. She took a deep breath. “Here I go, then!”
“May the Force be with you,” Sabran said, and their gentle smile buoyed her spirits up, up over all the Darkness in the Forest.
“Thanks,” she said, and turned to run, lightness and freedom returning to her feet, her limbs, her spirit. Whatever power held back the others, she didn’t feel it, and her resolve was stronger than it had ever been in her life before. She still had no idea what she was going to do when she found Murlesson. She had no idea what lay ahead in the Dark Heart. She didn’t know what Sel-Makor was. She really didn’t know anything except how to fight and how to love.
And that was all she needed in this moment. She hopped over a low cliff, rolling at the bottom to soften the impact, and came up to find a horrible monster in her path, its aura filled with hate and bloodlust. It was too slow for her; she darted under a blow from its claws, hopping up its arm to slash at its ugly face, jumping over its head and running off into the forest, never pausing for an instant. Her fighting would keep her alive, and her love drew her on, giving her the determination to make it into the deepest depths of the forest, her aura, her heart shining brilliantly gold and blue.
It bellowed behind her, and more monsters came lumbering out of the shadows of the forest, blocking her way. She didn’t want to fight all of them, even if she’d had the time to, which she didn’t. She skidded under another massive blow, spinning around a third, slashed at a fourth before it connected with her and it drew back its claws with a growl. She couldn’t waste time here. If there was another cliff she could jump off, they might abandon their pursuit of her. Did these things live here?
An opening appeared before her, and she took it, darting through the lower canopy of the trees just out of their reach, and away. She needed to keep up this pace until they stopped following her. Lightsabers off and sheathed on her belt, she could use both hands to help her through the trees, jumping from branch to branch in a way she hadn’t been able to do since she was on Yavin IV. Once she had lost sight of them, she dropped to the ground again, to run steadily, breath flowing through her like a rhythmic river.
When she moved, whether to run or train, her mind cleared, allowing her to see the world around her clearly, and it was clear before her now. She didn’t have to do this. Murlesson was steeped in Darkness, ruthlessly devoted to hurting anyone who hurt him. He hadn’t hurt her yet, but being realistic: there was a very good chance that she would end up dead eventually if she stayed with him. She was Jedi and he was Sith and they fundamentally, irreconcilably disagreed, and if he truly lost his temper at her even one time, if she opposed him on something firmly enough that they came to a physical fight, that might be it for her. Perhaps Kel Reu Giri was right, and letting him disappear and die would remove one more cancer from the galaxy. She knew all these things to be true.
And yet… and yet. Memories of happier times came into her mind – the intensely earnest look that he gave her when he was about to tell her something sweet, the smirk when he figured out something clever, the way he rambled passionately about history – even if it was the bloody side of history. The way he took care of people worse off than him, from his cult to her herself, even while swearing he was being selfish. The feel of his mouth on hers, of his body, vulnerable and trusting, in her arms. She loved him, so much that her heart ached, no matter how hesitantly he returned it, no matter how little he understood it.
And memories of terrible times came to mind, too. The suffering he endured, the screams that broke her heart – if she turned back, he would die without ever having known what it was to live past, like, that one night they went out for drinks. Did he deserve it? That wasn’t up to her to decide. She wanted to save everyone, including him. A few tears ran from her eyes as she hurtled onward. All she wanted was to hold him again and know he was safe. To dare to reach for both of their yearning and find what happiness they could together.
Her breath flowed and her heart beat in her chest. She didn’t have to do this, but she chose to do this anyway. She loved him, and that love protected her from the Darkness that surrounded her, that tried to strike fear into her, to confuse her, to make her turn back. Even if all she could do was be with him as he died, she would do it, because she loved him.
She ran on. No one better try to stop her.
She slowed to a walk in a narrow ravine that ended in a low cliff. There before her was a yawning gap in the earth, trapped beneath the roots of a massive tree, and Murlesson’s trail went into it. A cold wind blew out towards her and she stopped, her heart pounding. She took a deep breath and followed that trail, her blue lightsabers illuminating her way. She could not avoid the feeling that she was being swallowed, and that she would never return to the surface. But she could still sense him – or at least the ghosts possessing him – and what was more, she could see muddy bootprints on the ground.
The tunnel was wide and tall, two speeders could have driven side-by-side down it, and the corners turned at right angles, built of green granite. Who had built this place? But she knew who already just from hanging around Murlesson; it was the Sith, wasn’t it? She thought she recognized some patterns from other Sith places they’d been in. Supposedly the planet had only been discovered recently… but the ruins were old, who was to say the ancient Sith Empire hadn’t come here in forgotten days?
The darkness and dread pressed in on her. She could barely see past her lightsabers, even when she held them low to keep them out of her eyes. She thought she saw eyes in the dark reflecting the light, and raised her blades with a gasp – the eyes were only round raised bits in the carvings on the walls. But the feeling of imminent doom didn’t let up at all.
Then she noticed a hand brushing her arm, and she squeaked and jumped away. Her squeak echoed down the halls, but there was nothing there. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it – there it was again! “Stop that!” she cried, slapping at the invisible hands with her lightsabers. Heavy shivers ran down her spine, between the fear and the cold in here.
There was a growl ahead of her, and she stopped, raising her sabers into a guard position. She saw more eyes glittering in the darkness before her, and she quickly recited the Jedi Code as she stared them down, trying to calm herself, unable to move just yet.
The eyes darted towards her, part of a dark ghostly shape that was just barely visible in the light of her sabers – two ghostly shapes, quadrupedal, with ghostly teeth that looked disconcertingly sharp. Manifestations of the Dark Side, she guessed, creatures of Sel-Makor made to keep out nosy Jedi. Her breath was still coming quick even after saying the Jedi Code, but she moved as her training taught her, and it was enough, blocking the beasts, deflecting their strikes, slashing through their incorporeal bodies. One of them vanished, impaled completely, and the other hissed and lunged at her, knocking her down though she crossed her sabers before her, snapping at her face. She screamed and pulled her blades apart, decapitating it and causing it to also vanish.
She picked herself back up, panting and maybe shaking a little bit. She didn’t have to keep going. She could turn back at any point. And maybe she ought to turn back. She’d come really far. No one could blame her for wanting to preserve her life and sanity. This was too much for one mostly-trained Jedi to face alone. This needed a few dozen Masters to deal with. She could go back, tell the others it was hopeless, and mourn Murlesson with them.
She would blame herself if she turned back. She would probably die down here, and she was scared, and lonely, and she really didn’t want to die. But turning back now meant she would never be able to live with herself. She needed to be brave. She didn’t feel brave at all. And yet she put one foot in front of the other, and again, and again, and again, her footsteps echoing a little through the long empty halls.
She didn’t know how long she had walked. It felt like forever – surely it hadn’t been that long. This place was like a maze, and the corridor had split many times. If she lost her lightsabers, she would be stuck here, in the dark, until she went crazy or died of thirst. The bootprints before her were no longer leaving muddy tracks, but long scuff-marks through ancient dust, uneven, stumbling. There were dark drops between them, and she jumped and gasped as she saw a bloody smeared handprint on the wall next to her. Her heart wrenched. He really was in a bad state, wasn’t he?
Would she catch up? Maybe these tunnels went on forever.
She shook her head violently. No, that was silly. Nothing went on forever, not a physical location on a planet.
Though she was kind of starting to doubt that she was even physically walking. It felt like it, of course, she felt the stone beneath her feet and the cold air on her face and lekku. But it was all so… dreamlike, that when she turned her head, it seemed slow, that the wall beside her seemed indistinct. This place was getting to her.
She saw a faint light before her and blinked rapidly, trying to see if it went away. It didn’t, so she picked up her pace, trotting towards it curiously. Had Murlesson…?
There were no walls beside her, only darkness, so she wasn’t sure why she thought there was a faint light ahead. She just couldn’t see any walls. Or ceiling. Or floor, for that matter, though she hadn’t switched off her lightsabers yet. Somehow that wasn’t important.
Murlesson hung before her in midair, suspended somehow, his arms limp at his sides and his head fallen onto his chest. His Force-presence was dim, and she could not see his face behind the red hair that had fallen in front of it. “Murlesson!” she called out, not knowing if she was more glad or afraid to have found him.
She was about to rush forward when she saw they weren’t alone. There were the four ghosts, standing around him – she knew their names, if not whose faces they were attached to besides her ancestor. “You guys!” She’d been wanting to talk to them for ages. Finally, she had the chance. She pointed her right saber at them. “Let him go! …Please.”
“You cannot stop us, and you are foolish for trying,” said her ancestor, Kalatosh. “You really are an annoying girl, though your headstrong stubbornness is typical of many Jedi, even ones older and wiser than you. You ought to leave, but I imagine you would rather seal your fate.”
“That’s right,” she said. “I’m not running.”
“Why would you fight for him, anyway?” asked Ergast, at least, she was pretty sure it was Ergast. “You know he is truly Sith – a despicable person, you Jedi might say.”
“Reasons you probably wouldn’t understand,” she said firmly. “I love him. By the way, my name is Ashara, get it right.”
Horak-Mul laughed. “Love. It’s the most overrated emotion in the galaxy.”
“He cannot feel love,” Andru said. “Snakes cannot love. They sidle up to you for your warmth, and when they need you no longer, bite you and discard you.”
“You’re lying!” she said. “He loves me! He said so and he was telling the truth, I felt it!”
Horak-Mul snorted. “You trust the word of an adolescent boy experiencing sex for the first time? A broken boy who never knew love in his childhood, who had no one to trust and trusted no one since he was young enough to feel betrayal?”
“Shut up!” She jumped forward with both sabers, and Horak-Mul disappeared to reappear again on her other side. “I know he’s hurting, and you’re preventing him from even trying to heal so that’s on you!”
“He tricked you into joining him, you know,” Kalatosh said, from behind her.
She spun. “What?” Wait, no, this was bait. “You’re lying. Stop running away!”
Kalatosh stepped away from her lunge, smiling broadly. “We have only told you the truth. He was the one who bought the assassins. He was the one who lured you out into the forest. He was the one who told them where you were, and the only regret he had at being late to ‘save’ you was that he might lose the chance to talk to me. By the way, how old do you think he is?”
“Uhhh…” A sinking feeling developed in the pit of her stomach. “Like, eighteen?” That was legal for humans and near-humans in the Republic, anyway. Maybe not in the Empire? She wasn’t sure, maybe it was nineteen there. It was really hard to tell his age, though, he was young but sometimes he acted a lot older, and Aristheron relied on him and Aristheron was in his mid-20s or something so… She had never asked, only assumed.
Andru scoffed. “He’s sixteen. He really is a child.”
“Crap,” she muttered to herself. She was twenty, herself, even if she acted younger. “Well, I didn’t know, so I’m not a pedophile! Or an ebopha- epheb- whatever the other word is. Wait, is that one of the reasons you didn’t want me getting near him??”
“Hardly. I had wanted you to leave him for your own sake – so that I would not be forced to destroy my own descendent. And yet, here we are.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll just, I don’t know, not destroy me anyway?” she sassed him. “It’s an option!”
“Oh, no, my dear girl. You will pay the price for your foolishness, as you should have done when you first brought him to me.”
“Fine!” She swung at him, and he disappeared. If only she knew how to project her will like other Force users, to make them stay still long enough for her to hit them!
They surrounded her on all sides, almost speaking over each other. “He wants to destroy all Sith, just like Giri. His friends he’ll save… for last.” “He murdered his last surviving fellow ex-slave to silence him. Poor thing was as helpless as a hobbled nerf.” “He’ll destroy both the Empire and the Republic and install anarchy in their place.” “He killed your masters with no remorse; he felt only joy because it meant he was getting stronger.” “He killed the woman who forced him to become Sith, and he wants to kill the woman who was the closest to a mother he ever had.”
The accusations came at her unrelentingly, and she wanted to cover her aural canals. “Shut up! I don’t care! It doesn’t matter!”
“It doesn’t matter that he really is the monster he says he is, and that saving him really will bring ruin on the galaxy?” Ergast leaned in, smiling. “Do you really believe that? You should believe people when they tell you they’re wicked. You and your saviour complex are going to get in trouble.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Ashara repeated firmly. “You can say all the horrible things you want, but I believe in him! Because lies and pain are not all he is! So get lost!” She jumped forward to attack again; she would strike them down, even if they were ghosts. If she believed with all her heart, she could do it. “Murlesson! Wake up!”
“He cannot hear you,” said Andru from right behind her, and she spun, but no matter how fast she pivoted, how quickly she attacked, the four of them avoided her. “Have you even asked him if he wants to live?”
“No, but… Everyone wants to live! Everyone should be able to live!”
“He hangs there because he has no hope,” Horak-Mul whispered. “He used to fight tooth and nail for his life and freedom, but imprisoning and torturing the body is far inferior to imprisoning the mind. We took his hope and snuffed out his fire, choked his revenge and spite. Even if you could somehow defeat us, he would never recover. He would still want to die. And sooner or later, he would succeed.”
That hurt, even if she couldn’t believe it. She ran after Kalatosh instead. Her ancestor smirked at her. “Truly, this is all that’s left of his soul. Soon even that will fade away, and we will join with Sel-Makor and achieve dominion over this planet.”
“That’s a stupid idea!” she said, slashing at the air where he had been a moment ago. “Murlesson, wake up and help me! You’re not just going to let these jerks win, right?”
She was flailing without coordination, playing whack-a-Jawa with smoke. Her heart ached for his hurt and loneliness, with anger and fear, her confidence gone and her determination fraying. All she knew for certain was that she had to be near Murlesson until he woke up.
And then they stopped holding back. “As amusing as this has been, we have things to do now,” Ergast said. “Goodbye, young Ashara.”
They began to mob her from all sides, and though they were ghosts, she could feel icy coldness from their touch as they reached out to grab her. She swung her sabers desperately, but it didn’t seem to be hurting them much even when it passed through them – she struck Andru, and he gasped and grimaced in pain, and kept reaching out to her. Darkness wrapped around her, swamping her, slowing her.
She only had one hope now. “Murlesson! Please, wake up! I can’t do this alone! I know I’m useless and I can’t even save you by myself, but you’re amazing and strong and clever – you can stop them, I know it!” She struggled uselessly, but she could no longer swing her sabers.
“Save your breath,” Kalatosh snapped. “He belongs to us. No one can help you now.”
She ignored him, even though their power was sticking her in place, making all her limbs like icy lead. “I know you want to die, I know you’re tired and hurt and you think you can never be happy. I know hope is the most painful thing in the universe and sometimes it seems that everything is out to get you and that life seems pointless and it all hurts. That no matter what you do, it’s never enough. I don’t know it like you do, but I know it.” She sank to her knees, floundering under the weight of the Darkness. “But I love you, I love you with all my heart – I believe in you! I know you love me, so please – help me-! Murlesson-!!” Her last words came out as a desperate shriek as everything faded, sight, sound, touch, and she found herself unable to make sound. The world was a cold, numb void; she was lost, alone, forever. She felt her heart stop-
Until she felt a powerful blast of energy around her, tearing her free, and she could see again, she could hear and feel, she could breathe. Her heart hurt, but it was still beating. The ghosts were pulling back in shock and fear, and Murlesson was standing over her, red-yellow eyes blazing – actually glowing, behind his curtain of hair, his face creased in a vengeful snarl, terrifying fangs on full display. “I belong… to no one… but me!”
She wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or overjoyed, seeing him like that. Darkness was radiating from him, incredible, overwhelming waves of power, of hatred and fury – but it wasn’t pure Darkness; her inner sight caught a violet sheen through it all, especially where it curled protectively around her. Oh, but she’d unleashed a demon, and she was going to keep her head down for a bit. At least he was awake! The ghosts were murmuring between themselves. “He should have been too weak to break free, to wake up.” “He is still too weak to fight us…”
“You still haven’t come to terms with the consequences of your actions, have you?” Ergast said, recovering slightly, drawing himself to his full height. “So be it. You will die… now.”
Without answer, Murlesson darted towards Horak-Mul, then Andru, faster than she could follow. People didn’t move that fast! Not even with the Force…! But she was slowly figuring out… they weren’t in the physical world right now, were they?
Horak-Mul stumbled back, clutching his throat, and Andru slammed into the floor; Murlesson was on to Kalatosh and Ergast, sending the one curling over his groin – even Ashara winced – and the other spinning away, clutching his face. From one to another to a third, he whirled between them, too fast to see, the only sound he made raspy breathing. Dark light tinged with violet was streaming from within him with his building fury; it carried him, elevated him to floating in their midst, and a violent screaming howl ripped from him in a storm of lightning. Ashara gasped and ducked, covering her head and her vulnerable montrals as best she could. But that awfully magnificent figure was burned into her mind, levitating, arms taut and outstretched, the tendons in his throat jutting out, lightning radiating from him like some strange parody of a holy icon.
Kalatosh and Horak-Mul evaporated under the onslaught nearly instantly. Andru fell back to the floor, avoiding the worst of it, but still riddled with holes, bleeding around the edges into the Force; only Ergast had the presence to withstand that violent barrage.
“You snake!” Andru gasped, half-sitting up, wriggling away from Murlesson frantically. “May your name vanish from all record! May your children die in their youth-”
Murlesson slammed a fist straight through the ghost’s face, and Andru’s form poofed into the ether; he rounded on Ergast, who stared at him with a stony expression.
There were no words; he just lifted his hands and made a violent gesture, and Ergast was ripped apart by the invisible strength of the Force. She stared at Murlesson, and he slipped and fell sideways.
Complete and utter darkness fell, and the next thing she knew, she was blinking open her eyes, lying on a cold and rather moist stone floor. It was pitch black – her lightsabers!
They were still in her hands, and she ignited one, holding it up like a torch as she sat up. Her body had passed out, at some point, in her long walk, without her spirit noticing. And now – Murlesson’s body lay beside her, matte darkness in his robes in the shiny darkness of the tunnel, only distinguishable by the tiniest flicker of his presence.
She shook him by the shoulder. “Murlesson! Murlesson! Are you-”
His eyes cracked open, pale flickers in the black eye sockets of his tattoos, and he rolled his face up towards her, squinting in the light of her saber. She couldn’t tell if his face was damp with sweat, condensation, or tears. Maybe all of the above. His mouth slowly curved into a little smile in the light of her saber. “You’re safe now… From them, anyway.” His voice was low and still raspy, almost a whisper, and his eyes still looked unfocused. He didn’t have fangs at the moment, at least, and his eyes weren’t glowing anymore.
“What about you?” she demanded. “Will they come back?”
He thought about that for a few moments, and she felt his power fluctuating gently around them, so weak, terribly weak compared to what it had been before. “I don’t think so. That’s nice… I can actually… die in peace.” He closed his eyes.
Her heart clenched and she grabbed his hand, wincing as she discovered he’d lost his gloves… and his fingertips were completely worn away, leaving his hands black and sticky with blood and dirt. “No! I didn’t come all this way so you could frakking die on me, mister!”
He didn’t open his eyes, and he made a face. His words were slurring. “I know, but I’m… so tired…”
“I’ll carry you! The others are all waiting for us.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re not staying here to get eaten by Sel-Makor or whatever. Come on. Up you get. I meant what I said. Living is hard and hope hurts. I don’t really have an answer to that yet. But we gotta do it anyway.”
“You said it was love… didn’t you?” That tiny smile again. “You can’t love me that much… It would be better for you if you let me die. There isn’t a place for me in this galaxy.”
“No!” she said. “I do love you that much. I came all the way in here, didn’t I? So… please live? For me?”
She could see the thoughts ticking around inside his head, then the little smile grew larger – and more wry. “I guess… I could make an effort, since they’re gone now.”
“Yeah! Come on. I’ll help you.” She got to her feet, then grabbed his arm with one arm; she needed the other to hold the lightsaber. She leaned back to try to pull him up, and he actually put his feet and back into it, teetering to his full lanky height and nearly flopping back over again.
She caught him, slinging an arm over her shoulders. Good thing she was almost as tall as him. “Oof! I gotcha. Okay. We just gotta keep walking. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home.” Internally, she was worried she couldn’t find the path, but she could follow the footsteps she followed on the way in, right? Geez, he was stinky – the ghosts probably didn’t wash him since he jumped off the tower, so he stank of old sweat and vomit and blood. She still nuzzled against his jaw, just happy to be next to him.
“You are my home,” he mumbled, still sounding pretty out of it.
She had to giggle a little. “That’s flattering! But I meant, like, the Viper or Nar Shaddaa or wherever you like.”
He gave a little gasp, looking behind them, even though there wasn’t anything there… physically, at least. “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” she asked, and then gave a bigger gasp. “Wookiee feet! We’d better hurry!”
“I’ll do my best,” he said grimly, clutching at her and staggering forward with her firmer stride to guide him. There was a rumble in the distance, a rising tide of possessive rage, from a power magnitudes stronger than she could even comprehend. It was coming for them and she really didn’t want to know what would happen if it got them.
Going was excruciatingly slow; she had no concept of how long it had taken her to walk into the cave and absolutely no notion of when her spirit had left her body. She tried not to be anxious, for Murlesson’s sake. He didn’t need her nagging or pushing, he already knew it was urgent. Maybe more than she did.
The more they walked, the more certain his steps became, though he seemed really out of breath. She had the sense that he was exhausted, that he was pushing way past his limits, but he was going to make it – until he tripped and fell on his face, dragging her down to the floor. She dropped the lightsaber before it hit anything in her flailing, choosing to grab him instead and keep him from hurting himself.
“Leave me,” he gasped in her arms. “Go on. I’m just slowing you down.”
“I won’t,” she said with exasperation.
He gripped her arms with surprising strength, pleading with his eyes. “I don’t care, if you live. All I want is for you to live and be happy. Just… don’t… forget me. You’re the one who gave me any worth. Go and-”
She huffed and poked him in the forehead. “Beside every great man is a woman telling him to get over himself, you know. So get over yourself and let’s go!”
He looked shocked, his eyes actually focusing for a few seconds, and he didn’t resist as she pulled his arm over her shoulder again, staggering to her feet and dragging him a few more steps, calling her lightsaber back to her hand so they could try to not trip over anything else. And then the tidal wave hit them.
IS MINE, it bellowed into their heads, the feeling of it alien and yet the message clear as crystal. NO ESCAPE. SEL-MAKOR SPEAKS. MINE.
Darkness lashed at them, the ground shook below them, and there were ominous grinding noises from the stones around them. Ashara gasped, trying to shield them both from the clawing Darkness, from the hail of gravel that pelted them. Murlesson seemed to have dropped back out of it, and she shook him a little. “I can’t do this alone! You’re the mentally strong one here, help me!”
He raised his hand and his own shield rose around them, black and violet to her mind’s eye, protecting them from the wrath of Sel-Makor, and diverting the pebbles from overhead. He stumbled, his arm wavering, but she put her hand out too, the one with her lightsaber in it, and her energy joined with his, twining blue and gold around his energy. And now she had hope again, the two of them stronger together than they could ever hope to be alone, and though he sagged against her shoulder she kept going. The tunnel was collapsing somewhere behind them, catching up to them, and she kept going.
Step after step she took, as the tunnel shook and the Darkness roared. She felt almost like it was pulling them back, like gravity had shifted behind them, and she gritted her teeth, their protective energy shining around her, giving her the strength to pull through.
They came into a larger corridor just as a huge stone from the ceiling crashed into the passage behind them, almost catching the hem of Murlesson’s tattered robe, and now the tunnels shook and the Darkness roared but the rain of stones was growing less. Sel-Makor could no longer strike out at them physically, it seemed – but she didn’t let her guard down. It wanted them with a terrible hunger still, and Murlesson was weakening quickly. “Come on… just a little further.” She couldn’t remember how much further, and she was still scared, but step by step they staggered on.
There were Force beast manifestations, two in front and one behind, and she slashed at them, warding them off. Geez, not now! “Get out of my way!” She was still scared of them, but now she had Murlesson to protect right beside her, honing her determination to a laser beam. Of course, she was going to have a hard time fighting while carrying him, but that was a little detail. She tightened her grip and dragged him forward.
They attacked at the same time, and one of them she stabbed in the face, melting it away – and then she felt a thrashing weight thump into them as the one behind jumped on Murlesson’s back, biting at his neck. Murlesson grunted, losing his balance, almost propelling all of them into the wall, then giving a sharp cry. Lightning lit up the corridor and the beast was gone. The one in front of them hesitated, prancing back and forth in front of them, and then more appeared out of the darkness to join it.
Ashara’s grin was manic, sweat pouring down her face even though it was freezing down here. “Yeah, come and get it! I’m going through you, and I’m taking him with me whether you move or not!”
They charged. Murlesson slipped to one knee, and Ashara dropped him for a moment, drawing her second lightsaber. One, two, three, four slashes, and her enemies melted with gasping howls.
“Come on,” she said to Murlesson, stooping to pick him up again. “You all right?”
He didn’t answer, but he was still breathing, and he still put one foot shakily in front of the other. They rounded a corner and there was light ahead, real light, and she sheathed her lightsaber to hold up Murlesson with both arms. “Come on! There’s the exit!” She dragged his stumbling steps up the ramp to the daylight under the trees as Sel-Makor screamed in frustrated fury behind them.
He looked completely spent as they rested in a corner of the big tree’s roots, head down, eyes closed. She was breathing hard; he was barely breathing. His skin was still sallow and gaunt. “How far…?” he whispered.
She winced again. “Um… I’m not sure. I ran this whole way, and I kinda jumped over some cliffs instead of finding a real path, and there were these giant hostile creatures…”
“Frak, being alive is too much work,” he muttered, and she coughed to keep from laughing too loudly. She didn’t want to call monsters to their position.
Maybe he’d do better with some food and water. She wondered if the ghosts had fed him while they controlled him. Probably not, and that made her blood boil a bit. “Here. I have energy bars and water.”
He couldn’t open the food bars with his mutilated fingers, so she did it for him and he munched disinterestedly for a bit, dropping the wrappers on the ground when he was done.
She frowned at him. “Are you littering?”
He swung his head back to confront her indignant stance. “It’s the lair of an evil spirit born of the sundering of two tribes and you’re worried about litter?”
“Wait, what?”
“Never mind,” he whispered, head falling forward again.
“We can’t stay here,” she said, pacing a bit – yes, she was tired, but nerves were making her restless. Sel-Makor still seethed in its cave, and considering it had stopped Aristheron so far back, she wouldn’t put it past it to try to get them even from here. “Are you a little better?”
“No,” he said, but started trying to struggle to his feet anyway. She helped him.
They’d only made it out of the ravine when she heard a shout from ahead. “Ashara! Murlesson!”
“Aristheron!” She lit up. “They’ve come for us, Murlesson! They managed to make it!”
“Huh?” He didn’t know how the others had been held back. She started trying to explain, but before she could figure out how, the others were there, Aristheron, Khem, Xalek, and Sabran; Khem reached down and hoisted Murlesson onto his broad back, and they began to march back to the outpost together.
Author’s notes: I would have loved to include some of Murbek Gehn, the crazy old Sith on the edge of the Forbidden Lands, because he’s hilarious, but there just wasn’t a place for him. Especially since Murlesson the Sassmaster wasn’t in the party.
“It takes hours of meditation every day for me to keep my mind intact!”
“Clearly those hours could be put to better use.”