Revenge of the Jedi/Part 49

As the mutilated Sith fell back, wailing and fumbling the stump below her shoulder with the charred nub at the end of her other arm, Narasi jerked; she had been dreaming, but now she had been slapped awake. ''Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no…''

Tirien didn't even flinch. He held out a hand, palm up, and Narasi felt the Force press Gasald up into a sitting position. Her eyes frantic, she said, "Tirien, you don't want—"

He cupped his hand, and as she coughed, he said in a voice Narasi didn't recognize, "No more lying, twisting words from you, Vedya. No more, ever again."

He curled his fingers and twisted; Narasi felt the wrenching, ripping power of the Force, and a flash of pain as Gasald's cry dwindled to a choking squeak, then fell silent. Her lips moved, but all that came out of her mouth was a faint, hoarse rasp. Narasi saw the horror in her wide eyes, and when she turned her own face to Zaella, the Twi'lek wore the same expression.

"Now do you believe me?!" she whispered.

"You murdered hundreds of Jedi at Eriadu," Tirien said.

"You killed my squadron," Yan added. "My friends—my family!"

"You killed Lord Brascel and Jarkun, and you're responsible for Gaebrean Kaivalt's death. You corrupted two Jedi Knights to evil." The light that normally shone from Tirien was terrible—the sun's glare on a field of snow. "Your death won't bring them back, but I'll settle for it regardless."

He raised two fingers, and Gasald drifted up off the ground, her boots kicking the air centimeters from the dais. The stump of her left arm twitched, and she scrabbled at her throat with what remained of her right; the cauterized wound at her wrist left black smears on her white flesh and the collar of her white robe.

Narasi shuddered; it was too horrible to watch. She looked at Zaella, who said, "Do something!"

"Do what?"

"Stop this!"

Narasi saw her friend's fear, and she realized it was not only fear of the terrible power Tirien had found. Even with her voice silenced, Gasald's manipulation still haunted her—Zaella wouldn't try because she thought Tirien wouldn't listen. And who knew? If he was this far gone, would he listen to Narasi? Or anybody?

But the alternative—abandoning Tirien to this monstrous wrong—was too horrible to contemplate. Narasi couldn't betray him like that. So she threw herself forward and said, "Master, you have to stop!"

"This is why we're here, Narasi." He didn't even look at her, and his voice was cold and controlled in a way alien to even him.

"To kill her, but not like this!" As Gasald choked aloud, Narasi felt tears in her eyes. "Tirien, stop!"

"Shut up!" Yan snarled. "She deserves far worse!"

Narasi seized Tirien by the front of his ruined robes; he only glanced at her before returning his gaze to Gasald, but that was enough to chill her, and her voice trembled as she said, "Don't d-do this. Please."

"Narasi, she killed—"

"Ayson!" she said. It was a terrible risk—what if she pushed him all the way into the dark side?—but she was out of options. "Would you want him to see this? Is this the kind of Jedi you want me to be?"

For a second Gasald kept on wheezing as her kicks became twitches and her eyes rolled back in her head. Then Tirien looked at Narasi—really looked at her, for the first time—and that horrible mask of cold judgment disintegrated. The ice in his eyes melted, and as he opened his hand and released Gasald, Narasi saw her horror and desperation reflected on his face.

"Force save me…" he breathed.

As Gasald crumpled, wheezing and coughing in turn, Yan took her lightsaber from her belt. "What's the matter with you? Finish her!"

Tirien looked at Gasald for a long moment, hate, longing, and disgust rolled together on his face, but he shook his head and closed his eyes. "Narasi's right, Yan. Not like this."

"We can't let her—"

"We'll take her back with us. Take her to the High Council.  They—"

"If we listened to the High Council, we wouldn't even be here! They wouldn't know what to do with her if we gift-wrapped her for them!  But I do."

She ignited her lightsaber, and Narasi had to lurch back, because Tirien had his blade in hand an instant later. "Yan, don't."

The Arcona's eyes blazed. "You'd draw a blade on me? On me?  We were supposed to be in this together!  And if you don't have the stomach to do what needs to be done, I will."

Tirien shook his head; Narasi couldn't sort out all the emotions on his face anymore. "Please don't try, Yan. You're injured and you're angry, and even at your best you're no match for me."

Yan chambered her lightsaber and snarled, "You need someone to teach you the dangers of arrogance."

In four exchanges it was over, and Yan sucked her burned fingers while her lightsaber clattered over the deck. Tirien's jaw trembled as if he'd been wounded too. "Maybe so. I could've used the lesson before today.  But you won't be the one to teach me."

Narasi felt Yan's rage, and she took her own lightsaber from her belt; Zaella stepped up beside her, drawing her lightsaber too. Unarmed in the face of the three of them, Yan backed across the dais, but her hate grew so it seemed to remain with them. "You'll regret this, Tirien, I swear it."

She turned and raced down the dais steps. Tirien watched her go, glanced at Gasald as the Sith sorceress labored to get a breath down with choking, then asked, "Where's Raven?"