Desperate Measures/Part 12

Alecto hit the container first, pitching forward into a shoulder roll off the end. Tirien impacted a second later with the same technique, but her jump had carried her farther, and Tirien got to his feet at the edge of the container. Hopping off, he found Alecto wobbling in front of the bars of the next cage, her momentum having carried her almost within reach of the arachnoid thing inside, which was desperately trying to snatch her with a claw; Tirien caught her by the back of her jacket and jerked her out of range.

Ugor made his landing a second later, coming down right on his feet on the container unharmed; the lid buckled under his weight. He roared, and Tirien and Alecto split, running in opposite directions. Ugor pursued Tirien, who dodged among the rows of crates and containers while Sithspawn inside howled and snarled and, in one case, spat phlegm at him. Tirien took corners much more easily, but Ugor could simply shoulder whole containers aside, and he kept up a decent pursuit.

Tirien dodged, cornered again quickly, and finally got a whole container between them. Drawing his blaster, he backed away, waiting until Ugor came shambling into sight, and shot the Ugnaught in the side of the head. Ugor jerked, grunted, turned, and roared as he charged. Tirien didn't even have time to reholster his weapon; he simply abandoned it as he bolted for safety.

On the run he heard the report of another blaster, along with more angry roars, and gathered that Alecto, too, had tried and failed to bring Ugor down with blasterfire. Whenever he got space between them, caged Sithspawn would inevitably bark or bray or hiss at him, and the mutated Ugnaught came as if they had called him.

Tirien threw himself behind a solid crate, panting, and found Alecto at his side, her eyes wide and her wet hair wild from running.

"We can't keep this up," he said.

"The shots are starting to slow him down," she gasped.

"We need to split up."

"We've been doing that."

"I mean completely," Tirien said. "We can't let Kai Latra get away."

Before she could answer, Ugor roared, terrifyingly close by. Tirien and Alecto retreated around the corner of another container, waiting a second before speaking again.

"I'm low on blaster gas," Alecto whispered.

"I lost mine…but wait, here…" Tirien drew out his hold-out blaster and offered it. "Take this."

"Wait, why do I have to kill the giant?!" she demanded.

"Because I'll be dealing with Kai Latra."

"Why—" They both winced and ducked at a metal scrape; Ugor had hefted a whole crate and tossed it in rage. It burst open five meters away, and several large insects crawled out, snapping mandibles as long as Tirien's forearm. Alecto grimaced, then pressed, "Why you?"

"You're more agile—you have faster reflexes than me without the Force, so you can dodge Ugor. But my lightsaber style is better suited to dueling without the Force.  If you're right about Kai Latra being a weak swordsman, and if I can bait him into a duel, I've got a better chance of beating him."

"Lot of ifs," Alecto pointed out, but just at that moment Ugor walked past a cage a few meters away, spotted them, and roared. They sprinted around a corner and Alecto barked, "Do it!"

She kept on the straight path while Tirien twisted away, weaving through the containers and dodging a tentacle poking out of a ruptured crate. He heard the report of Alecto's pistol and the higher snap of his own hold-out blaster, along with Ugor's roars. When he made it to the stairs and the dark passage that led to Kai Latra's lab, he took a moment to breathe, stilling his beating heart and preparing himself. He shrugged off his jacket for freedom of movement, clipped his lightsaber to his belt and abandoned his shoulder holster, then jogged the rest of the way up and back into the light.

Kai Latra was picking up machinery with a grumpy face, and though he was humming to himself again, it had a decidedly disconsolate tone. "Look at this mess," he pouted. "Coming into my lab, messing with my experiments…rude is what it is…"

Ugor's roars, the various calls and cries of the other Sithspawn, the blasterfire, and even Alecto's occasional curses came through the shattered window, but the snap-hiss of Mali's lightsaber igniting made Kai Latra jump. He looked around until he noticed Tirien, and his mouth fell open. "Hey! Uggie's supposed to be killing you!"

"You'll have to dock his pay." Tirien offered a Makashi salute, snapped his blade into the opening stance at his side, and raised it toward Kai Latra. "En garde, my lord."

The Gossam stared. "…really?"

Tirien nodded.

"But…why?" He raised a hand, looking baffled, and a piece of machinery levitated off the ground.

Tirien forced himself to focus on nothing but the Gossam's red and yellow eyes as he curled his lip. "Alecto told me you were a coward," he said, infusing his voice with such contempt he almost sounded like her, too. "A Sith Lord who couldn't lightsaber his way out of a spacecrate. Said she wasn't sure you even had one."

The machine crashed back to the ground. "I have a lightsaber!" Kai Latra replied indignantly; opening his rich robes, he pulled it back off his belt and activated the red blade. "I just know how to use my eaters! And Uggie.  And my little people.  Also the Ugnaughts."

"Well, none of them are here," Tirien pointed out, then turned his wrist to fix the point of his blade right at Kai Latra's face. "En garde."

The Gossam frowned, then shrugged. "Eh, okay. I'm bored anyway."

He flew at Tirien without warning, a soaring, leaping slash. Tirien flicked his blade in while the Gossam was in midair; Kai Latra parried, landed, and spun into a whirling slash. Reorienting his combat line, Tirien fell back before the cyclone of blows, flicking the tip of his blue blade to keep himself engaged in the fight, trying to chip away at Kai Latra's concentration. He had obviously adopted some Sith form of Ataru to compensate for his short stature, and Ataru's greatest weakness was how quickly it exhausted its practitioner. If Tirien could survive the initial blitz, perhaps he could catch the Sith Lord on recovery.

Kai Latra was fast, and he hopped side-to-side in a way that made Tirien keep changing his line as he retreated through the shattered lab, but his swordsmanship was inelegant and his strokes overbroad. Tirien jabbed at his knees and wrists, trying to force the Sith onto the defensive where he could be defeated more easily. He was hampered by his need to take Kai Latra alive, but the Gossam's greatest handicap was his own defense, which was haphazard at best. Like so many Sith, he seemed to be comfortable with no setting but attack.

Using a lightsaber without the Force was strange; fighting a life-and-death duel with one was nothing short of petrifying. Without the Force, the weightless blade was difficult to predict, and Tirien found himself over-parrying or lunging too far or too short. Against an abler swordsman he might have lost his sword hand, or even his life, but Kai Latra, though capable, was clearly rusty, and since Makashi kept his lightsaber in one hand and pointed away from his body, Tirien had just enough training and muscle memory to stay in the game. Tirien slashed with a flick of his wrist to take out both of the Gossam's knees, but Kai Latra overleapt the blow, landing on a lab table.

"Ha HA!" he cried, swinging at Tirien's head, but Tirien turned and parried, riposting immediately. Kai Latra skipped back, tripped over a microscope, hopped awkwardly until he got his balance back, and glowered. "Dammit, my foot needed to be there!"

He waved a hand, and the microscope rocketed to the ceiling, shattering against the stone and falling to ground in a dozen pieces. Tirien vaulted the table and stabbed again; the Gossam flipped off and attacked from the ground. As Tirien pressed, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his lower back; Kai Latra had struck him with a levitated, broken piece of a chromatograph.

"Ha HA!" Kai Latra crowed. "Didn't see that coming!"

Tirien pressed him then, stabbing fast and hard, as aggressive as he dared to be without the Force. Kai Latra retreated, his smile wavering, as machinery leapt off the floor. Tirien dodged what he could and fought through the impact of what he couldn't, determined to take the Gossam before he was whittled down too badly to keep fighting. He felt the lacerations as shards of glass raked through his clothing, but kept pressing until the Sith Lord slid a foot back.

Tirien saw the pose, saw the way Kai Latra held his lightsaber, and instinct and decades of lightsaber combat told him what was coming. Kai Latra leapt, and Tirien ducked under the slash at his neck, spun on the ball of one foot, and lunged on instinct.

"Ha HAAAAOOOW!" Kai Latra yelped; Tirien had singed him from forearm to shoulder. In that instant the Gossam let go of the lightsaber hilt with his left hand and clasped his bicep, and Tirien flipped his wrist down, hard. His blade caught Kai Latra's just above the emitter and, with a flick of his wrist, Tirien sent the Sith Lord's weapon flying. Kai Latra reached for it, but Tirien charged, grabbing him by his skinny neck. He slammed the Gossam against the stone wall, holding his blue blade two centimeters from the rest of Kai Latra's throat.

"Give me a reason," he snarled, and his loathing of the Sith alchemist overtook him. He squeezed his hand and Kai Latra choked. "Reach for that lightsaber. Try to throw me off.  Levitate so much as a stylus and I swear I will cut your throat and smile while you die."

Kai Latra's eyes bulged in their sockets as he struggled to breathe. Raising his three-fingered hands, he croaked, "I give up!"

Part of Tirien wished the Gossam had not surrendered, but he fought through his anger. At last he had the Sith Lord—at last the Force was back within reach. Before he could make his demand of the Gossam, though, they both turned toward the heavy footfalls on the stairs. Ugor plodded up the stairs, each taking a couple seconds, his body still smoking in some of the blaster bolt craters. He opened his mouth and blood dripped over his tusks and down his bottom jaw.

"Mas…tuh…" he whimpered in a surprisingly soft voice for a being so huge, his tongue swimming in the blood in his mouth. The blue gleam in his sunken eyes had faded. "Hepp…me…"

There was a snap-hiss and a dopplering slash; Ugor coughed a mist of blood. He sank to his knees, but only when he collapsed onto his face did Tirien see Alecto standing in the doorway, a bruise on her cheek but her nexu's grin on her face. She turned it on Kai Latra; Tirien found it oddly gratifying to see it directed at someone else for a change.

"Uggie!" Kai Latra wailed, but he clammed up as Alecto approached, grabbing his neck too and pressing the emitter of her lightsaber against his cheek.

"And now, my lord," Alecto said, "you're going to give us the cure."

Kai Latra's eyes darted in every direction. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII don't have one. I don't do cures.  Nope.  I make people sick, not better."

"Well, that's unfortunate," Alecto said, still smiling. She let go of Kai Latra's neck and pulled out a long needle with a silver stud on one end. "I've got a little bit of 'cure' left and I can't think of anybody more deserving."

Kai Latra's eyes darted to the needle, across the room, and back to Alecto. "Maaaaaaaaaaaaybe I have a cure."

In a twist of her wrist Alecto had the needle back in her jacket. "I thought you might."

Before she could go on there was a boop from the console below the security monitors. Everyone looked at it, then Tirien and Alecto looked at Kai Latra. Alecto narrowed her eyes. "Answer it."

Tirien loosened his grip on Kai Latra's throat as the Sith Lord looked back at the console. "Uh…yeah?"

"Master, I couldn't find Sanno, and Lygrot informs me there are intruders in the castle…"

Kai Latra glowered. "You don't say!"

"I can't reach him now, Master. And I'm also given to understand there's been some trouble in the receiving chamber…"

"Not now!" Kai Latra barked. The comlink powered down, but the screens came to life. Several of them were static, but Tirien saw many empty rooms, as well as what appeared to be a riot of various species; he was cheered to think the slaves had rebelled.

Alecto twisted one of Kai Latra's arms behind his back. "Let's go."

They frog-marched him across the room, lightsabers pressed to his head and neck, following his verbal directions to a cabinet. Along the way Tirien could not help but see the mix of scientific instruments and what could have been implements of torture. Kai Latra also had a handful of melee weapons, including a zweihänder no being weaker than a Gamorrean could have wielded. There was also a pile of scrolls, a queer effigy that might have been a Sith symbol of some strange god, a small set of holocrons, and in a barred cage set into the wall…

Tirien crossed the room in a rush; a flash of Mali's lightsaber sheared the cage's lock apart. Ripping the bars open over Alecto's questions and Kai Latra's squeal of dismay, Tirien reached in and drew out a pair of lightsabers.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, his voice soft and dangerous.

There was silence, and so he looked up. Alecto had the Gossam in a headlock, with her lightsaber pressed to his temple and narrow-eyed confusion on her face. Kai Latra, however, seemed less concerned by the lightsaber against his head than by the lightsabers in Tirien's hands.

"Where did you GET these?!" Tirien snarled. He was back at Alecto's side, pressing both emitters against the Gossam's chest.

"Hey, emitter consciousness!" barked Alecto, who had Kai Latra between them; Tirien pressed one up under the Gossam's jaw instead. "What's with the lightsabers?!"

"This belongs to Narasi," Tirien said, eyes on the Sith Lord, "which means this double-bladed one is Aldayr Nikodon's."

Alecto raised an eyebrow, then looked down at Kai Latra. The Gossam showed no emotion; Tirien had to restrain himself from bashing his head in with the hilt of Aldayr's lightsaber. "Where are they?!"

"It's standard procedure," Alecto said, brusque now. "Captured Jedi are interrogated by Sith Intelligence, then turned over to Kai Latra unless the Council wants them."

"Turned over to Kai Latra for what?"

Alecto raised her other eyebrow, then looked toward the shattered window; Tirien heard the caterwauling of the Sith monsters in the chamber below and knew the answer. He looked back down at Kai Latra.

"Tirien," Alecto said, and there was a note of concern in her voice. He looked up and saw the concern on her face, too; he wondered what she saw in his eyes. "Focus."

"Where is she, Kai Latra?" Tirien asked softly.

"Get the Force back and find her yourself." Alecto was back to her cool, clipped tone, and Tirien nodded in agreement. They dragged Kai Latra over to his cabinets, opening several while the Gossam prevaricated and waffled until Alecto squeezed his throat and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

"Tha' wun…" he wheezed, pointing. Tirien followed his directions and retrieved a small red vial.

"Not much," Alecto noted.

"I'll take the first drink, and you—"

"Why are you first?" Alecto demanded.

"Yeah!" Kai Latra added. "Why should the Jedi get hrrrrkkkh!"

He cut off because Alecto had squeezed his neck, but she was looking at Tirien now.

"Because if you drink first and Kai Latra's lying to us about which bottle is the right one," Tirien snapped, "he knows I won't skin him alive when you drop dead."

Kai Latra swallowed and even Alecto seemed half-persuaded by that logic. "And I'm supposed to trust that you'll let me drink second?"

Tirien hesitated; the truth was that he could not trust Alecto to let him drink second. They were enemies, and now, at the end of their quest together, with Kai Latra at their mercy and the cure in hand, what would happen when Alecto became Darth Alecto again? Would some sense of truce allow a grace period for them to go their separate ways from Vjun, or would he find himself facing two Sith Lords? And to allow Darth Alecto to return to Sith service and murder again…

Alecto narrowed her eyes, and Tirien looked at the lightsaber in his hand—Narasi's lightsaber. Clenching his teeth, he said, "I give you my word as a Jedi that I'll let you drink second."

"Ah, guys…" Kai Latra said. They both looked at him. "There's only enough for one."

Alecto looked at the bottle, then at Tirien, and something dangerous flashed in her eyes. Tirien shook his head. "He's lying. Once we both have our powers back he knows he's defenseless against us."

"Not lying!" Kai Latra squeaked. "I made it for me! What kind of alchemist makes a weapon that can be used against him?!"

"He's trying to turn us against each other," Tirien told Alecto urgently, but even as he said the words they tasted like a lie. Why would the Sith Lord make extra antidote? What would he possibly care about protecting besides himself?

Alecto kept her stranglehold on Kai Latra, but Tirien saw her sword arm tense and the emitter of her lightsaber start to drift forward on the Gossam's face. Kai Latra looked sideways at it, then back at Tirien; his knees flexed slightly as he prepared for action too. Tirien's sword hand angled toward Kai Latra's chest again.

"Give it to me, Tirien," Alecto said, and they eyed each other for a long moment. "I'd still hate to have to kill you, but I will."

Would the Jedi Consular have talked his way to a peaceful resolution? Would he have struck down the two Sith in cold blood before Alecto could strike, or been slain himself? Would Kai Latra have found a way to overpower them in a moment of distraction?

They none of them would ever know.

Movement drew Tirien's attention, and he spared a glance for the security monitors Kai Latra hadn't deactivated. The slaves were massed, and in their midst, trying to get them organized…

"Narasi!"

She and Aldayr were rallying slaves. The screen caught most of the chamber, allowing Tirien to see the two Padawans and the dead Sithspawn behind them. He could see a wounded Abyssin nearby, though he appeared to be on their side. He could see, also, that Narasi had taken the initiative and was speaking to them. He watched her stand there before them, and though he could not hear her words, he could see their effect as they started to move, and he felt a fierce stab of pride in her.

And his pride quickly turned to fear, for he could see, too, the pair of Sith Acolytes who lay in wait for them, out of sight and just waiting for the Padawans to take the path they had no choice but to take…

"No…"

Alecto looked too, and even Kai Latra tried to twist as much as Alecto's headlock allowed, but Alecto recovered much sooner. In a rush that was so reflexive, a flurry of movements and counters, Alecto had a grip on the bottle too, and they were jerking it with their off hands while their sword hands pointed their lightsabers at Kai Latra's chest to impale him and one another. Kai Latra's eyes widened, but for once he chose not to speak.

"Don't, Tirien," Alecto warned. He could see the threat in her eyes and knew she offered only one chance.

He looked back at the screen. Narasi and Aldayr were starting to move…

Tirien switched his fingers so the bottle was pressed into Alecto's hand. As her eyes widened, he squeezed her fingers around it and said, "If you have any honor, if you feel any debt to me for all of this, if you have any soul at all, please spare Narasi and Aldayr."

And he ran.

The stairs were too slow; he took the same jump he and Alecto had made before. Ugor had crumpled the crate they had landed on, and Tirien braced for a terrible fall, but somehow he made the roll and pitched off to land in a second roll on the floor, coming up into a sprint. He hurdled an insectoid Sithspawn, rolled out of a tentacle that swatted his chest, and found the door through which the Nikto had carried the poor Anx boy's arm. As he ran, he knew he had no real chance; defeating Kai Latra without the Force had been little better than a fluke, and now there were two Sith. But if he could delay them long enough, they might be too busy with him to catch the Padawans and the slaves until it was too late. The fight might be unwinnable, but surely he could last just a little while. One last duel.

He made the slave chamber and heard the tumult. He saw the brutish Tunroth and the slender Faust where they waited behind a slave pen, red lightsabers glowing but unheard above the tumult of two hundred liberated voices. Running full out, he saw both Sith tense at the sound of Narasi's voice. They were facing away…

Tirien leapt and ignited Mali's lightsaber, stabbing for the Faust. He saw the curve in the man's weapon and judged him the greater threat; Tirien could certainly not match a Tunroth for strength, but he could use the shadow of his Makashi skill against the man's lack of mobility. He was not, however, in any condition to match another Makashi stylist; if he could kill the Faust before he had time to react, Tirien could last quite a while one-on-one with the Tunroth alone.

All this he realized without conscious thought, his combat conditioning and experience telling him the plan without referring it to a mental committee, but it was not to be. Both Sith turned, and the Faust parried the killing strike, skipping back in surprise. The Tunroth slashed and Tirien retreated out of range, and they both prepared themselves.

They had turned to face away from the slaves—away from Narasi and Aldayr. Tirien dropped into a fencing stance and raised his off hand, forcing his face to show nothing but cool control. "You know who I am," he said. "If you fight me I'll kill you. Yield now and I'll let you live."

Clearly they did know who he was; he could see it in their eyes. They shifted slightly, too faint for feinting; Tirien thought they were trying to get a sense of him in the Force and coming up dry. They all tensed, all three of them, as though they had arranged it in advance, and in that moment Tirien knew they were going to call his bluff. And then it began.

They came in together, and Tirien moved to engage them, but it was no contest. Not really. In the first three exchanges Tirien knew he would die; the Faust was a Makashi stylist and agile on his feet, and though the Tunroth's brutal Form V was slower, every blow was like a sledgehammer strike and Tirien had to keep retreating, for even one attempt at a straight block would get him hacked in half. As Tirien desperately flicked his lightsaber left and right, trying to put the two Sith in one another's way, he could see their confidence growing, see that they understood the famous Tirien Kal-Di was an empty threat after all.

The Faust nicked his side on a lunge. The Tunroth scorched his collarbone on a swing that would have decapitated Tirien had he not thrown himself back. The Faust managed to singe Tirien's back when Tirien twisted too far to parry the Tunroth. He was desperate to protect his sword hand; if he lost that, it was over.

The duel took them back as Tirien kept retreating, moving beyond the pens and through the slave chamber. The last slaves were going through the door into the hangar bay, and Tirien knew he was succeeding. Though injured, he could hold off the Sith a few moments more. Just a few moments more, and none of those innocent people would be hurt. A few moments, and Narasi lived.

As Tirien dodged the Tunroth's Falling Avalanche and tried a cut at his wrist that failed, he saw Narasi return to the end of the pack slaves to usher the last of them away. She guided a Twi'lek through, helped an Aqualish who stumbled back to her feet…and then she looked toward the flashes of light.

"Tirien?!" she yelled, and Tirien did not need the Force to understand her shock. "TIRIEN!"

And she started to push her way back toward them.

"No!" he roared; the Faust nicked his pectorals and he grunted in pain. "NARASI, RUN!"

But she didn't; she cracked a shock whip to life as she tried to get through, and even in the midst of the duel Tirien's mind raced ahead for him. He knew that even together they would not win the duel—certainly not before Kai Latra or Alecto arrived. The only chance for Narasi to survive was to flee with the slaves, but Narasi, loyal unto death, would never leave him.

Not while he lived.

Tirien slipped back, but he knew. He saw in that instant the vanity of his quest—avoiding the Jedi Council, allying with Alecto, allowing his fury to drive him throughout the castle, all to return to the Force. All for himself—because of how lost he felt, outcast from the life he had once known, the life he felt he deserved. The thought of Narasi had helped him compromise, paved the path just enough for him to walk it, but she had been excuse as often as motivation. But now Narasi was here, and Tirien knew, then, what had to be done, and he dared not waste time. This—this—was for Narasi.

Tirien took a deep breath. Taking one last look at his apprentice, hoping the Force would be with her, he raised his lightsaber to his face and closed his eyes. He heard Narasi screaming, heard the Tunroth's laughter, and exhaled his life.

Time stopped.

The answer to darkness is light, not more darkness, Master Robulg had said.

Tem-Fol-Rytil's voice whispered from his youth, Self-sacrifice is the heart of being a Jedi.

Tirien breathed in, and in, and in, an endless inhalation in the space of a heartbeat. His breath went from lips to lungs, but farther still, spreading through his whole body until every nerve sang. He was more aware of himself than he had ever been, every ache and injury, every touch of cloth on his skin and air on his cheeks, every cell connected to every other. And as he breathed in, that awareness spread beyond him, exploding out to trace every contour of the room, highlight every life in the castle, connect him to all lives in the infinite energy binding the galaxy together.

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

The Force was with him, and he was a Jedi again.

Time restarted.

Awareness contracted to the immediate need, the threat of the moment, and Tirien opened his eyes. He saw the Tunroth swinging at his head and the Faust lunging toward his abdomen, but he no longer needed his eyes to tell him. He saw the next second, too, and the second after that, and it was simple to step sideways away from the lunge, disengage under the Tunroth's blow, and shunt it sideways at the Faust's face so he had to recoil rather than correct his lunge. More than simple, it was natural. The two Sith hesitated, eyes full of sudden doubt for a brief moment, and Tirien felt a real smile touch his lips at last before they collected themselves and renewed their assault.

They came in together, and Tirien moved to engage them, but it was no contest. Not really. He parried the Faust's lunge, lifted the Tunroth's slash hopelessly high, and flicked in. The Tunroth screamed, falling back and clutching his face where Tirien had cut around his eye socket, trying to hold his eye in place. The Faust attacked alone, Makashi against Makashi, but the Force was with Tirien Kal-Di and the Faust Sith learned, too late, the peril of lapsed practice. They traded five exchanges—lunges, parries, ripostes, and remises in a furious flurry of three heartbeats—before Tirien flicked just so and cut off the Faust's sword hand. The man screamed but, sensing the danger was not negated, Tirien cut his hamstring as well, then brought his blade up to parry the Tunroth while the Faust was still falling. The Tunroth was ferocious, but uncertain and confused and now alone, and in three parries Tirien had a clear line and took it. He ran the Sith through the stomach, severing his spine as Mali's blue blade emerged from his back.

They both writhed on the ground, but Tirien was a Jedi Knight, and he would not strike down defenseless men. And so he left them, and returned Mali Darakhan's lightsaber to his belt, and raced across the slave chamber to catch Narasi in his arms and spin her in a circle. He set her down and saw her blank, wondering face.

"How?"

"I think—" There was a distant, unnatural screech. "I think it's a story for another time. Let's go, now.  Oh, wait…"

He took one of the lightsaber hilts from his belt and offered it to her with a smile. "This is yours."

She took it with a grin. "Thanks Tir—thanks Master. Let's go."