Revenge of the Jedi/Part 48

Finally able to open up a Juyo attack on someone, Zaella stabbed and slashed at the White Guard, who held his lightsaber pike by the back half of the shaft, parrying her blows with the cortosis-woven metal and jabbing with his own white blade to keep her at bay. She knew if she could just get inside his guard, he would be defenseless; he towered over her and had to be twice her weight even under the armor, but a quick tràkata would puncture that white shell before he could touch her.

She hit him with a Force push, but though the White Guard staggered, he dropped to one knee with his pike chambered in a defensive position, checking Zaella's charge, then slid his kneeling leg back to stand. Clearly they had been trained for fighting Force users; had Gasald planned for such an invasion of Jedi, or did she not trust her own people? Zaella stopped caring about the answer an instant after she thought of the question; lekku writhing in anger, she tried to circle around the White Guard instead.

The dais was to the Guard's back when he turned, but Narasi was too fast for him; swatting his hastily-aimed pike aside, she lashed him across the face of his helmet with her blade. Even with her strength behind the blow, she could not pierce the armor, but the lightsaber melted part of his slit visor. Zaella sensed him reeling, trying to follow Narasi from the half of the visor he could see out, but as he turned, she stepped up behind him and stabbed him in the base of the spine. As he crumpled, she drew her blade free and stabbed him again, this time in the back of the head.

Kicking the armored corpse to the deck, she looked up at Narasi, and as their eyes met, Narasi's ears dropped at the same time Zaella's lekku curled up.

"Zae…" Narasi shook her head, staring a kilometer. "Zae, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I wasn't…"

"I…" Not since she had left Ryloth had Zaella felt so alone as she had under Narasi's onslaught, physical and verbal; even as Tirien and Narasi's prisoner, she had never felt cared for, but at some level she had recognized she was cared about. Even looking at Narasi nauseated her—not with rage, but a sick, hollow emptiness. Was all that really what Narasi thought of her? After all this time, training and fighting and risking her life beside them, did she mean nothing to any of them?

Except Gaebrean, she thought.

As if summoned, Gaebrean raced past them, and Zaella saw him spring into a duel with Kobold Baliss. She knew Baliss was the better swordsman, but before she could go to his aid, she looked over Narasi's head and her eyes widened. "Look out!"

Narasi scrambled aside as a White Guard leapt from the dais. At that height, Zaella thought his spine should have telescoped, but he landed in a somersault and sprang to his feet faster than any justice should have allowed a man in armor like that. Zaella slashed, but it was no more than reflex, and he parried with his own blade before bringing the butt end of his pike around and slamming it into the side of her head. Tchin absorbed most of the blow, but that was no better; she simply collapsed in agony rather than screaming.

When she regained consciousness, Narasi was dueling the White Guard, but limping; Zaella saw the singed edges around a cut in the thigh of her pants. Groaning, Zaella tried to stand, but the blow to her lek had turned spiritual nausea to the real thing, and she vomited on the deck. By the time she finally got her feet back under her, blood ran down Narasi's face and the White Guard wheeled his pike like he was giving a martial arts demonstration.

Zaella went for his back, but he must have had some spark of the Force—maybe a failed Sith, like Guldroq, she thought—because he lunged blindly back and still planted the butt of his pike in her sternum. Zaella felt like she had been punched in the chest with an iron fist, and she sank to her knees, coughing and hacking. The Guard whirled his pike and raised it high in stabbing position, but somehow Zaella knew there was no danger, and she looked to her side. The Force told her Narasi had stepped up behind the White Guard and stuck her lightsaber in his armpit, running her blade in one side and out the other, but Zaella saw only Gaebrean's back, and the blade sticking out of his torso. The plasma flicked sideways, and as Gaebrean fell and died, Kobold Baliss pulled his blade free.

Zaella screamed—wordless, disbelieving, the only language that could speak the words for the acid that boiled through her veins. She was on her feet before she understood how; somewhere nearby Narasi was screaming too. Zaella felt hate like she had never known before, and she thrust out her free hand without thinking. Blue-white lightning erupted from her fingertips, and Kobold braced his sword hand with the other as he caught the attack on his lightsaber.

Stunned, Zaella stopped and stared at her hand; her fingertips smoked a little, but she knew inside she could conjure up another blast, this time to scorch through Kobold's defenses, melt his face into his skull, make him feel even a part of the agony she felt…but she took only a step toward the traitor before a fallen lightsaber pike rose off the floor and hurtled toward Kobold at the same second a hand caught her shoulder.

"Don't," Raven Kaivalt said. His face was sweat-streaked and twisted in a way Zaella didn't understand. "Take Narasi, leave Kobold to me."

"He killed Gaeb!" Zaella snarled; the dark side demanded she cut Raven down if he stood in the way of her vengeance much longer. "I have to—"

"He'll kill you too," Raven said flatly. "You and Narasi help Yan."

Beyond Kobold—it was hard to think of anything beyond Kobold, but Zaella's eyes managed where her mind struggled—Yan Razam dueled a surviving Sith and two of the White Guards. She had a red lightsaber in one hand and her own blue blade in the other, but she was clearly holding them off rather than dominating the fight. Jarkun was nearby, but running from the fight rather than to it, back up the stairs toward whatever was going on above.

Zaella shook her head, shaking with grief and rage. "He was—"

"You think I don't know?!" Raven snapped, but his voice broke, and Zaella saw the terrible suffering behind his eyes. "I already lost my cousin, I don't want you lose you two as well. Now take Narasi and help Yan."

Raven pushed her back in Narasi's direction and stormed forward to meet Kobold's charge. Zaella wrenched her eyes away; if she had to look at Kobold a second longer, no force within or without would stop her until she dug her fingers into the traitor's cold eyes and heard him scream for mercy she wouldn't give him. Narasi was still on her hands and knees, eyes squeezed shut, panting as if she had just run a race. "Get up! What's wrong with you?"

Narasi looked up, and Zaella gasped. The whole right side of her face was burned; her cheek was raw and steaming, and the hair around her right ear had crisped and blackened. She looked as she had after an encounter with San Pavac's flamethrower, but even the agony of Gaeb's loss had not been enough to distract Zaella from open flames.

"Kark! What happened to you?!"

"Gasald did something," Narasi groaned, rocking onto her heels. Her fangs showed as she gritted her teeth. "That really hurts…"

"We have to help Yan," Zaella forced out.

Narasi opened her eyes, but when she saw what was going on, she grimaced and struggled to her feet. As Zaella helped her stand, she felt like she was being torn in half—part of her wanted to drop Narasi to the deck and cut Kobold to ribbons, and the other part felt right being there, supporting a friend in need. If they were friends…

Narasi's lightsaber sprang off the deck and into her hand. "Thank you. Let's go!"

She led the way, giving Raven and Kobold a wide berth; Zaella followed, turning her face away from the duel, fighting the urge to turn and stab Kobold in the back with every step. One of Yan's White Guard attackers had scorch marks all over his armor and a lag to one step, so Narasi swung at him and they limped around each other, blades flashing. Yan knocked down the other Guard with a Force push, but as she turned toward the Sith, Zaella glared and shoved her aside.

"Kill the White Guard, the Sith's mine!" She could not just punch holes in another tin can soldier; it was not visceral enough, not violent enough to patch the hole in her. She fell on the Sith in a rush, red blade on red in a maelstrom of blows.

"Whose lightsaber did you steal?" he demanded.

"It's mine!"

"You're a Sith? You should be with us!"

"I'm nothing like you!" Zaella shrieked, and the Force smashed him back into the bulkhead for her.

He bounced off and skipped sideways, baiting her with slow infinity arcs of his blade. "Could've fooled me."

Zaella stabbed and slashed at him, and as she saw Raven and Kobold fencing beyond him, her fury powered her arms and drove her legs as she darted from side to side in search of a weak spot. The Sith held his own, but he gave ground and stepped on a fallen pike. As he wobbled for balance, Zaella slipped under his guard, swung up, and cut off his hands. He howled until she drove her lightsaber into his guts, but even his shocked, wide-eyed gasps weren't enough. Spitting in his face, she let go of her lightsaber, but the Force held it in place until she put a hand behind his back. The Sith cried in pain as the lightsaber burrowed through the wound the plasma had cleared until it burst from his lower back, coated in biological char, into Zaella's waiting hand. She shifted to a two-handed grip to hack what remained of him down.

She stood over her enemy's ruin, but she felt no better. Why didn't it feel better? Why did she still feel she was falling, aching with loss? Should she join Raven against Kobold? Would killing the traitor close the wound on her heart?

Before she could make up her mind, a blast of lightning streaked by overhead, impacted the wall, and blackened the durasteel. Trusting Narasi and Yan to their fights, Zaella jogged halfway up the stairs, but she stopped there, eyes widening.

Tirien dueled what looked like half a dozen copies of Vedya Gasald, all identical with white robes and gold blades, coming at him from every direction. He was all but encased in a globe of green light as he whirled and slashed every way to defend himself, and Zaella felt the strength of his fury. Jarkun's orange lightsaber appeared from nowhere, carried by no one, and hacked a Gasald in half; the doppelganger dissipated like smoke, but the others continued to attack, and even as Zaella watched a new one appeared to join her twins. All the Gasalds bore the same strained expression.

The intensity of the destructive lust, the pure, unfettered desire to destroy, turned Zaella's blood to ice water; in years of Izkara's rages and Guldroq's tortures, in all of her Sith trials on Ryloth, in the presence of Tarni Hadan herself, Zaella had never felt anything like this. Tirien and Gasald fought to destroy one another—to completely eradicate every trace of the other from the universe.

One of the Gasalds clipped Tirien's shoulder with her blade and he snarled, but even as Zaella's heart leapt into her throat, he shrugged it off and threw out a hand. The false Gasald's head snapped sideways, but the dead thing faded to smoke before it hit the ground. Tirien sprang back and, to Zaella's astonishment, closed his eyes. What he saw she did not know, but he turned his head toward one Gasald and stalked right at her, swatting aside other attacks without looking, as if the others had all but ceased to be.

The Gasald he targeted backed up, but when it became clear Tirien was not stopping, she returned her lightsaber to her belt and ran Sith lightning between her hands, shaping the snarling currents into a ball. As she thrust out her hands, Tirien deactivated his lightsaber too and clapped his hands before his body. Zaella felt an awesome rush of the Force, and the kinetite exploded in midair. Lightning bolts shot in every direction; Zaella had to duck under one that streaked toward the stairs. Tirien and every one of the Gasalds were hit as well, and a multilayered scream rang off the marble. Most of the Gasalds shuddered, shimmered, and faded, but the one who had shaped the kinetite hit the marble hard even as Tirien fell opposite her.

For a second the only sound was the sizzle of dying lightning; Zaella remembered the combat below, but it sounded very far away. Then, as Tirien kipped up to his feet, Gasald rolled onto her back, pressed her palms to the ground, and levitated herself up. She glared at Tirien with such hate that Zaella's lekku curled and she shrank down, and lightning ran through the Sith Overlord's hands. Tirien reached for his lightsaber…and then, very deliberately, left it where it was. He started forward, and as Gasald unleashed lightning on him, Tirien caught it in his hands.

Zaella heard the whispers around her ear cones, felt the claws sliding down her spine—the dark side called to her anew. Not to use it; that was not for a pitiful worm like her. No, the dark commanded her to fall on her knees in worship of this sorceress, a hideous cacodemon behind a mask of beauty; or if not of her, then of the tattooed nightmare in Sith robes advancing on her, the avalanche that would bury her under the force of its loathing and laugh a cold, wintry laugh as he slowly sucked all warmth from her corpse and buried her for all time.

One of Gasald's bolts got through, striking Tirien in the shoulder, and he dropped to one knee. Zaella was too terrified to go to his aid, but even as Gasald laughed, Tirien forced himself back to his feet. She pressed in on him, but as lightning curved all around his hands, he glared and pushed, and one bolt shot back, catching Gasald in the stomach. She cried out in pain, but redoubled the fury of her attack. They lurched toward each other step-by-step, and the marble cracked and melted beneath their feet. Tirien reflected another bolt back, and this one caught Gasald in the face. She screamed, but even then she did not stop, and Zaella squinted against the blinding light.

When they were only a meter from each other, the lightning started to curve back on itself, the curves of an orb starting. Zaella remembered when Tirien had fought Chelshgodru Brokkodd in Bras Kozondo's skin, and the way the explosive lightning had hurled them apart. She thought Tirien remembered it too, because he struggled forward, a low groan starting through his teeth. Just when Gasald threw all the tremendous power she possessed into the lightning onslaught and Zaella thought the explosion might rend the ship in half, Tirien roared, reached forward, caught Gasald's hands, crumpled her fingers back into her palms…

…and, in the Force, closed the loop.

Gasald shrieked as her body convulsed, bathed in her own lightning, too hateful to stop the flow, powerless to break away. Writhing in paroxysms of agony, she screeched so high it hurt to hear; even as she watched, unable to tear her eyes away, Zaella saw one of Gasald's teeth explode.

"What…?" Yan said. Zaella jumped; the Arcona was right beside her. Hissing, Yan limped up the steps, one hand shielding her anvil-shaped face from the light.

There was no cacophony, no ship-rending explosion, just a low whump that rattled Zaella's teeth as Gasald and Tirien were finally forced apart. Tirien went down hard, groaning, his hands burned and smoking, but he shifted onto his side and sat up. Gasald lay on the dais, twitching, her shivers audible even from thirty meters away.

Narasi hobbled up the stairs on Zaella's other side. "What…?"

"Do you believe me now?!" Zaella asked. She heard the terror, the total loss of control in her voice, but she couldn't stop it and didn't care; she had to make Narasi see. "Do you see this?"

"What?" Narasi's face collapsed in relief. "He's all right! He'll be all right."

"No, Narasi, he's not!"

"What are you talking about?"

Tirien wobbled on his feet and almost fell, but he righted himself and looked at Gasald, and Zaella cowered as his wrath washed over her in the Force. He staggered forward, and Narasi crept up in his wake; Zaella forced herself to follow, more frightened than she had ever been. She was walking into a black hole of hate, and only upon seeing it did she realize how much it would crush her if she let it.

Gasald tried to sit up, but she cried out in pain and slumped. Her white hair had burned black in places, and the paint on her face had ignited, scarring her cheeks. One side of her face drooped as if she'd had a stroke, but as Tirien loomed over her, there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes.

She reached for her lightsaber, but Tirien was faster; in a single move, he drew his weapon from his belt, ignited the blade, swept it down to strike off Gasald's sword hand just as she pulled her lightsaber free, and returned his weapon to his belt as Gasald gave a guttural cry. She pushed herself back with her good arm as Tirien loomed over her and Yan Razam prowled close from the other side.

"Narasi, stop this!" Zaella begged.

"We've got her!" Narasi snapped. "This is why we're here!"

Then Yan ignited her lightsaber and hacked off Gasald's other arm as well.