Sins of the Father/Part 22

I'm sorry I had to kill you, but you would've killed me, Narasi thought, looking down at the Dashade's corpse. I'm sorry it had to hurt so much, but you were too good, we couldn't bring you down with one blow.

It did feel different killing someone in a duel than in battle; Tirien had been right. She remembered seeing Mali Darakhan meditating over his slain enemies on Taanab, but she had never thought to ask him what he had contemplated; on the occasions she had seen Tirien kill, he had never done it. Maybe it was a Jedi Guardian thing; they probably killed more Sith than anybody else. But it seemed like the respectful thing to do—a way to acknowledge that all lives had value, even when she had to end one—and since Narasi wanted to be a Guardian one day herself, she thought it was a habit worth starting.

Plus, after that sneak attack, it was harder than she'd made it seem to not kick Zaella in the teeth, so she thought it was best to put some space between them for a minute or two.

A distant crackle of energy and static matched up with several reactions in the Force, and Narasi snapped herself out of her semi-meditation to find the barrier shield had closed again. She got to her feet, thumb resting on the power stud of her lightsaber. She considered drawing Zaella's too for a little extra firepower, but scrapped the plan; she had only practiced Jar'Kai a few times in controlled settings, and even then the results had been…mixed.

Why was she sealed in again? She had defeated Ghrond and Zaella, what more did Runganna want?

Why did she put Ghrond against me in the first place? she thought. Why would she try to kill her customers? There was something else going on here; whatever the auction had started as, it had become something different.

Behind her, the gate that had admitted Ghrond to the arena rose again, and when Narasi turned, she stopped caring about Runganna.

"Well, well," said San Pavac. He wore a jetpack with his armor now. "The last Rican."

There was a snap-hiss; Narasi was vaguely surprised to find the lightsaber in her hand ignited, but she knew it only by the sound, because she could not tear her eyes away from Pavac to see the blade. "You."

He circled around her at a good distance, hands hovering over two of his holstered blaster pistols. "Me."

''Be a Jedi. Be a Jedi. They're dead and you can't change that.'' "What do you want?"

"Me? A good fight and a big pile of credits for my trouble." He gestured to the far stands, though his hand did not stray much from his gunbelt. "Those two fools think Mandalore will rise again out of the dirt, but I know better. Everything Mandalorians have accomplished for millennia has been through mercs; the only thing they're doing by calling that woman Mand'alor is painting a big old target on her and themselves.  Mandalorian tactical genius for the modern era—and this is the people that once had the Republic on the brink."

Narasi heard the sneer she couldn't see, and her blood boiled at the idea that this man, this murderer, had the audacity to hold anyone else in contempt. Walking backwards to match the circle Pavac was tracing, keeping her sword hand toward him, she growled, "So go kill somebody for money, then. That's what you do, isn't it?"

Pavac chuckled. "It is. And after that little hissy fit with Black Sun yesterday, I'd've normally turned this pit into a blip on my rear sensor and been on my way out of this trash compactor fire before it burned me.  Funny thing, though…Runganna showed me this holo.  See, I blacked out a couple days ago.  Couldn't remember a thing that happened to me.  I'll be honest, kid, it freaked me out, and I don't freak easily.  But then I saw the holo, and everything got clear."

His voice had hardened as he spoke, and now it was an open threat. "You tried to kill me, Jedi."

It was true, and Narasi remembered it with shame, but when she gave a half-hearted attempt at an apology, she choked on it. Pavac nodded; he didn't seem to need her contrition or her defiance.

"And I wondered, why me? Sure, I've killed Jedi, but nobody close to you, as far as I knew." He drummed the handle of one blaster with his two long fingers. "Then I got to thinking again, Narasi Rican…see, I'd heard of you; anybody who's put enough work in for the Sith has heard of both of you. And at the time I thought, I wonder…naaaah.  There are a bunch of Ricans on Zygerria, must've been a different family.  And then, when I smoked your spineless father and put down your etyc mother, and she told me you were beyond my reach, and I couldn't find you in the hole they were hiding in…I thought about it again, but I still just couldn't accept it.  Didn't think the Jedi would ever take a slaver, but more fool me.  Just goes to show you, sometimes the simplest answer's the right one."

He tossed out descriptions of her parents' murders not like he was trying to goad her, but as if it was something so casual it was barely worth the recalling. But that flippancy set her hands trembling; her lightsaber's blade dopplered in the air as it wobbled. Be a Jedi! "Run away now.  You've got a jetpack, right?  Get out of the arena; go while you still can."

Pavac stopped, facing her, hands poised over his guns. "Oh, I don't think so. Runganna's tossed me a little extra to deal with you, but I'd do this one for free.  I don't miss many bounties, and I want to tell the High King I got the set.  And nobody takes a swing at me and lives to tell about it."

Narasi squared off with him, determined not to make the first move even as she put her weight onto the balls of her feet. She told herself there was no emotion, but she waited for Pavac to draw, wanting his pride to conquer him, wanting the excuse that would make it self-defense, wanting a reason…

And he gave her one.

Ready for her this time, the Pyke quickdrew so fast that, even with her blade live, Narasi barely turned the first shot in time. Drawing a second gun from behind his back, he fired in quick succession, correcting his aim as he shot rather than taking the time to sight on the barrels. Narasi turned her lightsaber this way and that, deflecting fire into the sand and sky and far shields, which sparked at each bolt's impact. Pavac fired several shots a second, but after a few seconds to brace herself, Narasi started to advance.

When she claimed half the distance between them, Pavac blasted off, flipping over her and firing in midair. Narasi had never seen anyone use a jetpack that way or encountered a Jedi who used a blaster, and she felt the heat of bolts passing by her skin; one glanced over her shoulder and left sizzling flesh in its wake. Only the low gravity and the sheer acrobatics of the maneuver saved her; she sensed Pavac was surprised by his quick acceleration, and nobody without a Jedi's skills could aim in midair like that. But when Pavac touched down, he was already firing again, and this time every bolt scorched right for her chest and face.

Narasi managed to reflect a bolt back at him, but he twisted out of its way; in his second off balance Narasi hit him with a Force push, but he activated his jetpack while he was still flying backward. Rising in the air and circling like a vulture, he rained fire down on her while she tried her best to swat it back at him. Form V training would've made that second nature, but of course that was the form that was still coming. Already Pavac was adjusting to the lower gravity, his movements becoming smoother. On a sudden impulse Narasi leaned on the Force for speed, getting a run going and circling around him.

It took more of her energy than she would've liked, and she realized she couldn't use that trick twice; fighting Ghrond and Zaella had taken a lot out of her. But she made it to Pavac's side before the world sped back up to normal rate, and in the precious seconds it took Pavac's helmet sensors to track her, she grabbed him with the Force and yanked down.

Pykes clearly didn't share whatever Dashade magic had protected Ghrond from telekinesis; Narasi's power was enough to drag Pavac to earth while his jetpack could do no more than sputter in protest. She had hoped the fall might break his legs, but the jetpack and his own instincts protected him; he landed and rolled into a crouch.

Narasi charged, but Pavac holstered one gun and reached over his back to his jetpack. Without realizing what she was doing, Narasi picked up her pace until she was nearly sprinting. She had almost reached Ghrond's corpse when Pavac triggered the launcher and her danger sense lit up her mind in a haze of panic. Deactivating her blade and diving forward, she slid under Ghrond's dented breastplate, worming herself in as the canister Pavac had launched burst in midair.

The breastplate rang with dozens of pings like metallic rainfall; projectiles chewed up the sand around her, and Narasi realized he had launched flechettes at her. She focused on the armor, trying to heft its bulk with the Force as a shield.

"So cowardice runs in the family?" Pavac called. Narasi felt a blaster bolt glance off the breastplate without effect. "Should've known."

Be a Jedi, Narasi told herself, though a red haze was descending over her vision. Be a Jedi.

"Your father screamed while his flesh melted off. And your mother begged me for her life before—"

Narasi screamed too, but she barely heard herself; the Force propelled Ghrond's breastplate scraping away from her over the ground, and had Pavac not jetpacked over it he would have been crushed. Narasi ripped her lightsaber hilt off her belt, and Zaella's too, and both weapons blazed to life, but Pavac launched the second canister he had waiting, and it burst while she stormed toward him. She raised one fist overhead, willing the Force to make a shield over her; her anger fueled it, but it wasn't perfect, and she gasped as high-speed metal nicked her right ear and slashed the top of her left forearm.

As she cried out in pain, Pavac lifted off, and the fact that he had hurt her and not suffered a scratch himself buried her pain in fury. She swung her two blades to meet his shots, blood soaking the sleeve of her robe and flicking little droplets down onto her face. Her jaw ached from her clenched teeth, and her only thought was hurt him too.

The Force answered; she twisted her wrist on a block and reflected the shot back into one of Pavac's guns. He dropped the useless hunk of metal, and his other gun too, but he used one hand to press on one bracer as he pointed his other arm at Narasi. She sensed danger coming and crossed her blades.

Fire leapt forward from the wrist-mounted flamethrower, seeming to stream toward her in slow motion. Tirien did it, that means I can too, Narasi thought, and she pictured the fire curving away from her, mushrooming around the impenetrable barrier of the Force. She knew it would protect her…the fire would curve away…the heat would not get any hotter…

Too late, she realized it would not work; she threw herself aside as her tunic caught fire, turning her face against the flames and shrieking. The pain was excruciating; no experience had ever prepared her for the feeling of burning. Rolling in the sand extinguished the fire in her hair and on her ear, but her tunic was going up; screaming in anguish, she struggled up and ripped off her tunic, undertunic, and belt, leaving only her compression top and her seared skin. Her lightsabers had fallen somewhere in the sand.

Above her, San Pavac drew his next pair of blaster pistols, and the fact that he was still unharmed drove her rage to a new peak. DIE!

She extended both hands and wrenched the guns out of his grip. This time she was not content to disarm him, though; the blaster pistols soared into her waiting hands. As she tossed them to herself to hold them the right way, Pavac dropped down from the sky. Narasi leveled on him and fired, but missed, and Pavac got a jetpack boost across the arena right toward her. Two shots struck his breastplate with meters to spare; they didn't kill him, but they did slow him enough that when his flying knee took her in the forehead, it didn't snap her neck.

Blinking, Narasi found herself on her back; her hands were empty. She heard Pavac's jetpack roar and realized she had only been out a second or two. Rolling up and fighting a wave of nausea, she saw the Mandalorian circling around for another go.

"ENOUGH!" she roared, and the Force answered her frustration, squeezing one of the exhaust nozzles. It was nothing like the heavy metal of Ghrond's breastplate; the nozzle's alloy collapsed like a crumpled durasheet, and Pavac fell into an ungainly descent, his remaining thruster sending him into a roll. As Narasi closed the distance, he tugged release cords on his shoulders and the jetpack crunched down on the sand.

Pavac extended his wrists, and blades popped out of the undersides of his bracers. He slashed at her, but the blades only protruded a few decimeters, and it was not much different than fighting barehanded; Narasi didn't even bother retrieving her lightsabers. She slipped to Pavac's side and palm struck him in the ribs; he grunted, and she took the chance to grab his right wrist, seize the blade below that hand, and snap it off.

Pavac back kicked; Narasi pulled her knee out of range, but he twisted around into an elbow strike that struck her head and knocked her to the ground. He poised the blade she still had, but anger put enough force behind her answering kick that it snapped his head sideways; while he was disoriented, she scissor swept him to the ground, then used both heels to kick him away. He rolled several times before he came to a stop, and this time it took him two tries to get up.

Narasi's ribs ached, her head was throbbing, and her burned skin felt like someone had scraped it with a grater, but she added it to the tally of pain San Pavac had caused her and decided the bill had come due. She met his punches and blade stabs with contempt, deliberately putting extra strength into her blocks to fatigue his arms, hitting his chest and his helmet with palm strikes. She sensed his anger building up too, but it didn't empower him the way hers flooded her with strength, and in the end it made him sloppy.

He stabbed right at her face; Narasi caught his wrist with both hands, pulled it over her shoulder, and jerked his arm down, snapping it at the elbow. While Pavac screamed in pain, Narasi turned into a ferocious hook punch that knocked him to the ground. He landed on his broken arm and screamed again, but the Force wrenched him up into Narasi's grip, and she punched him in the helmet.

Go to bed, kid, her father had slurred when Narasi had hugged his leg, the last time she saw him.

I love you Daddy.

He'd had to blink to focus on her, but he smiled and crooned, Yeaaaaaah, love you too, kiddo.

Narasi punched Pavac again; the T-visor of his helmet cracked.

I don't wanna go! she had whispered in her mother's ear, clinging to her, latching on with her little six-year-old claws.

You'll be all right, Narasi, her mother had whispered back, in the last hug Narasi would ever get from her. It's better this way.

"I hate you!" she screamed at Pavac. She saw the blood from her split knuckles on his visor, but she didn't feel the pain and wouldn't have cared if she had. She only hit him harder as she shrieked, "You son of a bitch, YOU KILLED MY MOM AND DAD!"

Her scream became wordless, and she pulled the Force into a punch that could have cracked stone; when her knuckles connected Pavac's helmet shattered, the bottom line of the T-visor and one cheek plate broken away. Beneath the armor, his pale gray skin had bruised purple and his teeth, clenched in pain, were stained with the blood misting through them.

Narasi's Force-backed blow had fractured the helmet through; one good rip tore off the top, exposing Pavac's angular skull, and she pulled the remnants up over his head. He wheezed in exhaustion and looked up at her; he opened his mouth to speak, but Narasi grabbed him by the throat with both hands.

"Go on," she snarled, and she lifted him right off the ground. "Scream, like my father screamed. Beg me, like my mother begged you."

Pavac only wheezed, pawing at her hands with his remaining good one. Narasi turned and hurled him onto the ground; his bad arm caught under his weight, and she heard him shriek without the helmet as a filter. She kicked him under the ribs, and he got his good hand under him, pushing himself up to sit on his heels. He gazed up at her, and she glared down, feeling the Force wrap around his neck, waiting for her command to squeeze until he suffocated or snapped.

"Yeah, all right, go ahead," he panted. "I'm not gonna…beg like the Twi'lek. You…earned this…fair and square, kid.  Besides, no matter wh…what you do to me…no matter what I've done…your parents…were still filth.  They deserved death."

Narasi held out a hand, and her lightsaber hilt flipped end-over-end to smack into her palm. She caught Pavac by one of the folds of his neck and pressed the emitter to the long skull that stretched back from his small face. He went cross-eyed looking at it.

And there they were for a long moment.

"Little higher will give you…an instant kill," Pavac advised. "Right there is…is just a lot of brain damage…"

Narasi's thumb hovered over the ignition stud of her lightsaber. She felt the thrill of victory, the hate for this man who had murdered her family and didn't care, the extraordinary power of having his life in her hands. One tap, one sizzle of plasma, one little cloud of smoke and ozone, and he would never hurt anyone again.

"Don't have the guts? Figures.  Cowardice and weakness, just like them."

"I should kill you," Narasi hissed. "You deserve death too."

Pavac chuckled; blood-colored spittle dribbled down his chin. "Yeah, probably. I've done things…"  He laughed once more, then cringed in pain. "Aaaahhh…I've done things you…you couldn't imagine. Demagolka, they call me.  But I never lost…one wink of sleep for killing your parents."

Send him to sleep forever, then, the Force whispered to her. ''He's a murderer, a butcher of innocents. Finish him. Avenge your family and protect the galaxy in one blow.''

She had, after all, come to Circumtore to protect people. She had killed Ghrond for it, had been prepared to kill Zaella…yes, she had spared Zaella, but unlike Pavac, Zaella had asked for mercy…

Was that the measure of a Jedi—to give mercy only when it was begged at swordpoint, and to slay all others who opposed her for their crimes? Tirien had cautioned her against the lure of pity, but she had no pity for San Pavac. He had warned her not to seek out Pavac, but this threat had come to her—once she had already won the contest! The Hutt had inflicted this duplicity on her; killing Pavac would send an unmistakable message that to betray the Jedi was to court death.

And yet…in his last guidance before the battle—in what, for all he knew, might have been the last words he would ever speak to her—Tirien had not given her tactics, or hinted at a Force power that might come in handy, or offered her any last-minute means to preserve her life. His parting advice had been to defend her soul more than her body—to reject the darkness, even if it meant death.

Remember who you are.

But Narasi realized she was not so much remembering as deciding. She remembered that she was a Jedi Padawan, but she also remembered that she had once been in a family that owned slaves. She was Tirien's Padawan, but she was also her father's daughter. Patience, teamwork, and mercy had brought down Ghrond and saved Zaella, but rage and loss had empowered her and delivered her parents' killer into her hands. Memory was a mixed bag; memory put her at a crossroads. But long before today, Tirien had counseled her that being a Jedi wasn't a single choice; it was a lifetime of choices, day after day, trial after trial, until she became one with the Force. The long, agonizing road stretched before her mind's eyes, daunting her.

It can't be done, the Force whispered; feeling for it now, she perceived the cold of the dark on her skin as she thought the words. Don't spare the murderer for a journey you'll fail anyway.

Maybe I will, she thought. No Zygerrian Jedi but me; maybe that's not an accident.

But she would fail any journey she failed to begin. Taking a deep breath, feeling the fire still scorching her heart and the pain of all her many wounds, Narasi made her decision. It was only today's decision; it could not decide tomorrow. She took the first step anyway.

"My father did evil things," Narasi told Pavac. Looking at him, she loathed him still; she struggled to keep her voice steady. "My mother let evil go on in our home. I loved them anyway; I still do.  I hate you for killing them.  But I won't let my hate make me evil too.  Not today."

And she took the lightsaber from his head and, turning her back on him, let him slump into the sand as she limped back toward Tirien.