Never trust a chapter starting quietly until its over

Looking forward to the next one!

<3

Hope your Thanksgiving was grand. Waiting to see what happens next.

Never trust a chapter starting quietly until its over

Looking forward to the next one!

<3

I'm glad you liked it. I really did pick up I thought by the end, but everything serves a purpose. Thanks for reading and commenting.

 

 

It's easier to walk into the future when the path is paved with stones of the past. I'm glad Lia was able to get some information on her mother and perhaps a little insight into Marr during his younger years and the often volatile path of their marriage. Keeper, pragmatic as always.

 

I figured Jadus would use the boy to lure Lia into his lair. Illa has been poorly used but at least she's still alive. And Theron has been a busy fellow or perhaps the Killiks have arrived. Either way, something went bang. Ah, the plans of despots and would-be rulers. And Vowrawn and Nox haven't shown up yet. Wonder what rabbit Jadus will pull out of his hat now?

 

 

Hope your Thanksgiving was grand. Waiting to see what happens next.

Indeed, it gives a person a better understanding who they are, and I thought it was time to wrap up that point of the series, Liatrix had a right to know something more about her mum. Keeper, I think is a very wise and as you say, pragmatic man.

Yep, that's been the plan all along. Ilia is in a bad way and I felt it would leave more to the imagination to do it 'off-camera'. I don't think I'm quite as evil as Jadus and really didn't want to dedicate myself to a brutal scene with them. I still think it accomplished what it needed to though. I hope.

I imagine the answers will come next week about Theron or the Killicks, or both? And possibly Vowrawn and Nox will make an appearance next time too. They're just biding their time really.

And thanks for asking, Thanksgiving was lovely, it was a nice time with good food and my men. <3 I appreciate that you're still with me and for your insights and encouragement. Thank you.

Nice chapter, looks like things are kicking into high gear.

Nice chapter, looks like things are kicking into high gear.

 

 

It's good Keeper was finally able to give Liatrix her mother's journals and complete some puzzle pieces, she deserves that kind of closure, if it'll offer any.

 

So, an attack on Jadus' ship. Reinforcements or has Theron been busy? Funny how Lana's trying to forbid anything, as if that'll work. Good thing Keeper has a ship ready, curious to see if they'll make it in time for whatever trouble is unfolding on Jadus' side.

Thanks Indeed it would be. I hope it'll all turn out spiffy, since this will probably be the last SWTOR fic I write, at least in the foreseeable future. Maybe even my last fanfiction. Can't dwell in another universe forever.

I'm glad you enjoyed the scene between Liatrix and Keeper, I've had that in mind for some time and knew the day would come when they'd meet and Keeper would pass on the info to her. I have no doubt it'll give her some insights and much-needed closure. She had a lot of questions.

Lana means well, but yeah, she's not going to be holding anyone back after that. And I guess the next one will give the answers to the question of Theron or Killicks. Hopefully, things will work out, it's always a bit scary at this point lol. I figured Keeper would be the sort to be prepared at all times with a way to get the hell out of Dodge.

Thanks for reading and commenting, I appreciate it.

Three cigar-shaped vessels constructed of coiled spitcrete kept pace with the Invidia. Crops of bulges packed the sides of the ship, similar to the heavy Mon Calamari cruisers. The propulsion system whirred with the same voice as a swarm of insects filled with trillions of individuals working in concert.

“It’s the Killiks, my lord,” Admiral Ethos dared, his gaze touching on the dead officer at his feet. Another blast rocked the ship and the senior bridge officer tugged his battle-starched collar out from his throat and stole a much-needed breath.

Jadus glared at the nearest enemy vessel. “Have the boy transferred to my shuttle and have it ready for departure.”

Before Ethos could respond a message crackled over the com, “Admiral, you’re needed on the bridge.”

“Report, lieutenant.”

“They’re taking out our com relays and sensors. Oh no—no. We’ve been boarded. There are Killiks…everywhere! Argggggh!”

“Calm yourself, lieutenant. Initiate emergency force fields. Once we have them cornered, gas them. Inform Ebon Squad they’re needed in Lord Jadus’s quarters to assist with prisoner transport.”

“Acknowledged, Admiral. Ebon Squad dispatched.”

“Take care of this, Ethos. Then rendezvous with your men on Korriban as we discussed.”

“Yes, my lord.” Ethos clipped and grew paler. “What about the agent?”

“If she survives until my return, I will continue the work.” Jadus stalked from his quarters just as Ebon Squad arrived.

Ethos shuddered and urged his soldiers inside to collect the Force-prison. “This way men. Use your utmost care with this one. Hurry and prepare the Malagant for departure.”

The Killick boarding pod yawned, releasing a fierce cadre of armed warrior Killiks. Vector emerged next, in black-green iridescent armor, the helmet, a gleaming stylized insect head complete with gazelle-horn antennae. In his arms, he brandished a duracrete electrostaff, silver lightning lancing between the dual forks.

“Move quickly,” Vector ordered. “Her song ebbs dangerously close to its final verse. We cannot lose her.”

The swarm marched the halls, felling anyone attempting to interfere with a swoop of their glaives. Their mandibles clacked in anticipation of the next attack, but their minds were still and silent and hyper-focused on the fraying canticle driving their purpose.

‘We are here, Ilia, and we will find you,’ Vector promised.

As they moved, they smashed sensor cylinders and coms leaving behind a wake of golden sparks.

Vector strode ever forward, his senses tuned to the ethereal glittering strand binding him to Ilia.

Theron steadied himself against a crate and shucked the body of the defunct gonk droid in favour of a set of Imperial trooper armor he’d found stowed aboard. The ship rocked again and the shuttle shuddered on its landing gear.

A set of boots clattered up the boarding ramp. “Droid? Droid? Have you finished repairs? I need the fuel hoses disengaged from the Malagant. Droid?”

Theron swore and kicked the gonk droid’s shell. “Useless piece of excrement,” he said, trotting out his finest Imperial accent.

“Is there a problem?”

“It appears your droid, malfunctioned. Nothing I tried, worked.”

“I need to know if it completed the repairs on Admiral Ethos’s shuttle.”

Theron nodded. “Looks like it. Why? Is he going somewhere?”

“That is none of your concern,” the deck officer squinted at Theron’s ID plate, “TE-1110. And what are you doing aboard? Alone?”

Theron shifted his weight. “No one told me we were back, I fell asleep.”

“Probably drinking on duty, more like. I’m writing you up.”

“Sounds like we’re under attack. You can look the other way and I can give you a hand, or you can remove those fuel hoses yourself.”

“I catch you loafing off again and I will report you.”

“Thanks, I owe you.” As the officer turned away, Theron cranked his fist back and punched the deck officer in the head hard enough to knock him out.

“Don’t worry, I won’t report you,” Theron drawled impishly. After binding and gagging the officer, he locked him inside a munitions crate and deplaned.

‘Time to get my son.’

My son. The words still felt foreign but the feeling coursing through him was one of warmth and desperation. Having his own family had been a ‘someday’ for a long time, but ‘someday’ was here and it was a comforting thread he wanted to weave into his life.

‘Gotta find Vector and Ilia too—if there’s anything left to find.’ The macabre thought attached itself to the rest before he could repress it and he frowned. ‘She’s alive. She’s gotta be.’

The closer he came to the heavy interior durasteel hangar doors the more chaos beyond them registered. Blaster shots, bug chatter, and screams, both human and insectoid echoed through the halls. He glanced down at his disguise and shook his head.

‘They won’t be able to tell it’s me. Damn. Looks like it’s back to the ventilation shaft for me.’

No sooner had he pulled himself inside the guts of the ship and closed the panel behind him, he could hear a squadron of Imperial troopers marching into the hangar. Cautiously, he moved forward to put distance between himself and the hangar.

‘That was close. Should’ve wired those shuttles to blow. Argh. Opportunity lost.’

Vector spun his electrostaff and bashed the coded control panel locking the door to Jadus’s quarters. The doors parted just enough to wedge his shoulder between them and force them apart.

His gaze landed on the fragile, slumping body bound to the interrogation table and without thinking he bolted toward her and removed his helm. “We are here. Ilia, can you hear me? Ilia please,” he coaxed. He withdrew an ampoule of what Ilia called ‘bug milk’ from his belt and dribbled the contents into her mouth.

Gently he flicked the wisps of red hair from her eyes. “We beg of you, don’t leave us. We’re here,” he murmured. “We’re going to free you.”

He fought the restraints clamping her to the device, but nothing he did would pop the lightning fused cuffs apart.

Vector closed his eyes and six fingerlings drifted in, bodies glowing and wings whirring to land on the table. The tiny Killiks spat thin streams of corrosive liquid at the cuffs binding her wrists, ankles, and midsection. The durasteel withered and corroded, finally falling asunder.

Vector communicated his thanks to the fingerlings and caught Ilia in his arms. A pall came over the nest as hundreds of its members succumbed to the poison gas Ethos pumped through the ship. “We need to leave, they’re killing us.”

The fingerlings disappeared into the fluting of Vector’s armor and clung to him.

An unintelligible whimper escaped Ilia. He propped her against the table just long enough to reclaim his helmet.

“We’ll soon be free,” he promised. The song of the nest grew weaker as the Killiks died and Vector gave the order to evacuate and retreat.

Above him, the ceiling rattled and a pair of trooper boots came down hard against the ceiling grate. “Vector? It’s me, it’s Theron!” The trooper shouted and flipped down from the shaft.

“We were concerned when we didn’t hear from you, but we didn’t wish to jeopardize your position.”

“How is she?”

“Not well, we’re afraid. She needs immediate care. We’re returning to our fleet to place her in the pool of healing. Will you join us?”

“I can’t, Vector. I have to get my son. You and Ilia and your people need to go,” Theron said, starting for the room Deston had been kept in.

“There’s no one else here,” Vector said. “Do you have the means to escape?”

“I’ll think of something.” Theron tore apart the compartments and storage units and roared.

Ilia’s eyes fluttered open, teary and filled with pain. “Jadus took him…Vector…” she managed.

“Save your strength,” he whispered.

A cloud of green poison leaked in from the corner of the room. “Dammit,” Theron snarled. “Looks like that’s our cue. Get her out of here.”

“Thank you, Theron, for everything. If only there was something more we could do.”

Theron and Vector shook hands. “You’ve done enough,” Theron said. “C’mon, let’s get you to your pod.”

Jadus stalked up the boarding ramp of the Malagant. In the cargo hold, half of Ebon squad worked feverishly to secure the Force prison and ensure it was still holding, while the other half of the squad tended to the shuttle’s fuel hoses and security mooring.

“My lord, your cargo is secure and your shuttle ready for departure,” the captain of Ebon squad announced.

“Excellent. Return to Admiral Ethos and purge my ship of these traitorous insects.”

“At once, my lord.” The captain bowed and backed away from the Sith Lord, careful not to turn his back to him, to show the proper respect. The soldier returned to his men and the squadron left the hangar deserted.

Jadus slid into the shuttle’s command chair and engaged the vessel’s AI. The Malagant powered up, hovered, pivoted, and sped out of the hangar in a smooth arcing motion.

Theron charged into the hangar and threw up his hands at the Malagant’s pale blue thrusters gathering into light speed. The craft shot off into the darkness and Theron stooped, hands on his knees, huffing to catch his breath. A string of High Gamorrean curse words escaped Theron’s bucket helmet as he yanked it off his head.

His hands bunched into fists and his eyes burned. So close. Another minute would’ve been enough. Maybe if he hadn’t seen Vector and Ilia off at their boarding pod…but he owed them that much. He owed them much more.

A warm, familiar voice rose from the chaos in his mind. ‘It’s not too late, Theron. You can still catch him,’ the voice encouraged, as it always did when Theron felt lost.

“Thanks, Master Zho. Look out for him for me.”

With Vector and Ilia safely aboard the Killik capital ship, there was nothing to hold him back.

Theron bolted into Admiral Ethos’s shuttle and flopped into the pilot’s seat. After disengaging the force field, he soared into the immense darkness on the greatest chase of his life.

The Killik capital ship and the two flanking it, released another volley of acid-filled torpedoes at the Invidia.

The star destroyer returned fire, leaving a sizeable hole in one of the flanking ships. Several Killiks were sucked into space, instantly freezing and floating free in the glacial darkness. The surface of the Invidia turned black and grey at impact. The Killik acid spread, rotting the pale pristine surface until the Imperial star destroyer was reduced to a skeletal derelict bleeding bodies.

The Killik capital ship emitted a protective shield around its damaged cruiser and the trio sped off for Alderaan.

Inside the capital ship, Vector watched anxiously as Ilia’s body rose from the deep immersion of the healing milk pool.

Cords of pale, translucent liquid streamed off her body and he took her hand in his when the platform stilled.

While she didn’t wake, her life signs were stable. Several more immersions would be needed, but each would need to be carefully timed so that she retained her humanity—anything more and she would become a joiner.

He pressed a kiss to her lips and smiled. “We won’t be far, but we should report to the others,” he whispered, leaving her side long enough to com Balkar.

The spy’s image rose from the spitcrete holo display unit. “Vector—we’re on tenterhooks here. What’s happening?” Jonas demanded.

In the background, Keeper straightened at the incoming message and folded his arms. Even at a distance his brow was furled and his gaze sharp.

“We believe the mission to be a success thus far. The Invidia has been incapacitated, however, Jadus escaped. We believe Theron is giving chase.”

“You’re not sure?”

“We know Theron. He went off on his own, but we have no doubt, he’s pursuing Darth Jadus. He has his son hostage.”

Balkar felt Keeper’s glare burning into the back of his head. “And Ilia? How is she?”

“We are confident she will survive, though her treatments are only just beginning.”

Balkar blew out a deep breath. “Can’t tell you what a relief that is. It’s good news. And help is on the way. Liatrix and Scourge are heading for Korriban.”

“Perhaps you may be able to reach Theron, brief him,” Vector offered.

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll be in touch.”

“You may count on it, Jonas, Vector out.”

Keeper left the control room after the transmission faded. The elegant joiner’s voice repeated its assurances in his mind. She was safe and she would recover and that was enough. That was all he needed, he told himself.

As always, the pleasantries faded all too quickly, reality demanding the practical and the necessary.

He traced the edge of the com unit and jabbed the needed frequency. Vowrawn appeared before him, his mouth full of pearly white daggers.

“Keeper, this is an unexpected pleasure,” Vowrawn clasped his hands. “I trust you have news for me?”

“Yes, my lord. The Invidia has been immobilized, however, Jadus is on his way to Korriban. There is also a troubling complication—he’s holding Theron Shan’s son captive, with the express purpose of luring the Commander into a confrontation.”

“So, the boy is alone with Jadus,” Vowrawn nodded.

“You knew, my lord?”

“Indeed and there is one further thing you ought to know. That is no ordinary boy. He’s a vessel to our former Emperor’s essence and consciousness.”

“With all due respect, my lord. You might have mentioned this earlier. They’re going in blind.”

“Rest assured, my friend, they won’t be for long,” Vowrawn drawled. “At last the pieces are in motion and I believe it’s time we returned home.”

((to be continued…))

<3

Looking forward to the next.

Looks like everything is going according to Vowran's plan

I am looking forward to seeing what will happen on Korriban.

 

I love Theron's thoughts about fatherhood:

 

<3

Indeed, whatever that is lol. Vowrawn out clevers me quite a bit, but he'll tell me eventually.

I'm really happy that you enjoyed it and am grateful for the lovely comment telling me so. Thank you.

 

 

The killiks save the day, Illa is safe and Theron is on the hunt for his son. Good job with the battle scenes. I rather enjoyed Theron's thoughts on fatherhood.

 

The cat is out of the bag concerning Deston's hitchhiker and Vowrawn seems to have plans of his own. Let's just hope Nox is amenable and everyone is up to the challenge. There's about to be interesting times on Old Korriban.

 

Funny how things circle around with Marr's grandson returning to Korriban, the planet where Marr met Vowrawn and his journey began.

 

 

Looking forward to the next.

Thanks I'm glad you enjoyed the battle scenes. I didn't want to get into all that too much because it wasn't my focus, so I'm pleased that what I did do, turned out ok. I enjoy getting into Theron's head, he always manages to surprise me a little bit.

Indeed, word is getting out about Vitiate and Vowrawn always has a few irons in the fire. I wish he'd label them. I'm hoping Korriban will be interesting.

The idea of things coming full circle is true enough, in that they're returning to Korriban, because that's where Liatrix's first story, 'The Well of Undying' ended up and it made sense to be to touch back on that with the end of the last story, touching on the end of the first one. Vowrawn and Marr actually met on Dromund Fels, but the planets are much alike (Korriban and Fels) so I can understand.

Thank you for reading and for the kind comment. It helps, especially this close to the end when I'm struggling to get it all covered and my motivation is flagging.

Scourge set the craft down deep within Korriban’s canyons. The dry stale smell of tombs, wrapped in millennia of shifting sands filtered inside as the boarding ramp dropped. The canyon was an anathema to all life, not even the tuk’ata dared to wander inside the weathered titian ravine.

Liatrix stood and took in the unsettling view. The cliff formations transported her to another time and back again. “I remember when I first came here.”

“As do I. You nearly died in my arms—all over a fool’s errand.”

“It wasn’t to me,” she asserted. “I’d do it again—”

“The one lesson I’ve long sought to impart upon you—that expecting a different outcome from the same actions is a—”

“—a sign of madness,” she finished. “Do you think Jadus knows? Or is it a coincidence he asked us to come to the Well of Undying?”

“Jadus doesn’t strike me as a man who trades in coincidence. He has his reasons—I only wish I knew what they were and what they meant.”

“I’ve got to give him credit where it’s due. If he wanted to unnerve me, he’s damn near succeeded.”

“Your calm gives me reservations, given what’s at stake,” Scourge murmured.

Liatrix turned to face him fully. “I can’t allow myself to be anything else. Deston might already be dead. This is what Jadus wants—to throw me off balance.”

“Allowing Jadus to force us to come to him, is a mistake. If it weren’t for the boy, I would insist we leave—refuse to play into his hands—but I know you would never abandon the boy.”

“My son,” she corrected. “It seems my enemy has me at a disadvantage. He knows a lot more about me than I know about him.”

“That would make sense, given his years presiding over Imperial Intelligence. Speaking of which, what did Keeper say to you? I sensed you were…affected.”

“He told me about my mother, spoke about her marriage to my father. I think he meant to help—to fill in the missing pieces I had no way of ever knowing.”

“It concerns me, he’d choose now to make these revelations.”

Liatrix took his hands in hers. “Now is as good a time as any. He was my father’s most trusted friend and ally that much I know.”

She gazed up at him, untouched by time and the longing he had once hoped to thwart blazed as it did the day he’d learned she loved him over a decade ago. Broken and bleeding she loved him.

“You are just as I remember in my visions,” he said.

“Maybe they were showing you today.”

“If they were, they denied me the outcome—perhaps it was not the first time I saw your face, but the last.”

“Then let’s end this, it’s dragged on long enough,” Liatrix whispered and drew him down to her. The kisses they traded tasted too much like finality to be of comfort. They only served to remind that all things end and beginnings lacked the assurances their passion demanded.

She drifted from him gently, abruptly, and after affixing her mask, she disembarked to greet their fate. Scourge’s brow’s pinched to form a deep chasm between them. If the Force was an instrument, an insect crept across its strings, the signature well known to him, but faint—a spider in the wait.

Instead of joining her immediately, he paused by his satchel and removed the holocron he had claimed on Nathema and secreted it in the reticule at the back of his belt, his long billowing cloak concealing the device.

Together, they entered the cave that led to the Well of Undying. The torches ignited at their arrival, the electric blue flames revealing the thin runnels of moisture dampening the interior walls. The smell of wet soil and mold wafted throughout the cave. Scourge clamped his hand over Liatrix’s shoulder.

“What is it?” She whispered.

“There’s another presence here, one I haven’t felt for some time. He’s here.”

“I feel it too. I don’t like it. Is this where he’s been hiding?”

“Perhaps. As you know, this temple is well known to me,” Scourge said. “You must trust me if we are to succeed.”

“I trust you with my life—always have. Be careful. I love you.”

“And I you,” he replied.

Liatrix fought the urge to linger as Scourge vanished between seemingly solid walls. She felt him ascending higher into the cavern through a secret passageway? Stairs? She wasn’t certain but continued onward toward her goal.

Moments later, she emerged into the vast circular temple. The false well lay at its core, the illusion of glossy water flush with its edging stones had renewed since her last visit. Only one detail differed from her memories—instead of the purple holocron designed to bait seekers of arcane knowledge into killing themselves for it—a new trap had taken its place—the Force prison confining Deston.

The boy bobbled inside the Forcefield like a sickly fish, seemingly unconscious, the messy ridge of spiked hair bristling up from the center of his head. Bruised, tawny flesh peeped out from under the rags he wore and Liatrix fought the urge to go to him. Above him, pale blue flames roared from the enormous iron chandelier illuminating the temple cave.

Behind her mask, her eyes blazed and her weapons sprang to hand. “I’m here, Jadus. Come out and face me.”

No sooner had she issued the invitation, Darth Jadus appeared on the opposite side. “You came promptly, good. As you can see, your son is alive, for now.”

“Let him go, Jadus.”

“Not until the exchange is made—your life, for his.”

Liatrix laughed mirthlessly. “Do you really expect me to believe you’d make good on that deal after I’m dead?”

“You didn’t come alone and I’ve kept my word thus far.”

“Your word means nothing to me,” she snarled and ignited her lightsabers. “I’ve had enough of your posturing. Fight!”

“Once, you were the greatest warrior the galaxy had ever known, but no longer. Those are gifts I alone took from you.”

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Liatrix shot up high above Jadus, blades angled down at his helmet.

Scourge climbed the narrow steps leading to the apex of the temple. Too wide to approach them directly, he turned sideways, his chest only inches from the wall as he moved. Dried and dismantled cobwebs clung to his face, the itchy sensation far more troubling than any notion of claustrophobia. Despite their hunger, the dusty Tuk’ata spiders retreated from the darkness emanating from Scourge, opting to hide in the deepest crevices they could reach until he was gone.

Higher and higher he climbed until he reached the crawlspace leading to the center of the temple. Moving along on his hands and knees, he ducked into the cove above the chandelier. The space was large enough for two men to stand and facilitated the installation of the iron light fixture below, the crumbs of their skeletons still dusting the stone.

Though faint, the Emperor’s Force signature was closer than before—and an insidious thought occurred to Scourge—Vitiate dwelled within the boy. It was a detail, he hoped Liatrix would miss, at least until after Jadus had been dealt with.

The ages had taught him many things, perhaps the most important being, that no matter the adversity, a plan was needed to overcome it.

With an outstretched hand, Jadus sent Liatrix sailing in a backward arc over the well. She landed in a crouch, her blades crossed and angled to block his lightning. Massive jags of electricity coiled down the length of her blades, threatening to reach the hilts. Thin shoots of blue-purple energy seared through the dorsal plate of her gloves, etching the backs of her exposed hands with raised, white scars.

Liatrix gritted her teeth and deflected the salvo of lightning back to him.

Jadus reabsorbed the savage energy, but instead of redirecting it, he reached out with the Force and ripped the mask from Liatrix’s face, leaving her eyes exposed.

She blinked like a Loth bat chased out of the shadows.

“Without your mask, you’re finished,” Jadus said, powering up again.

The sudden unmasking demanded a quick recovery—one she wasn’t sure she could pull off in time. Rather than remain still, she dove into a trio of somersaults, narrowly avoiding the attacks that landed seconds after she’d moved.

Her vision doubled as she moved, ghosts and shadows creating false edges around every surface and object. A ‘ghost’ of Jadus clung to his body as he hurled a spray of stalactites at her. The ghost became his twin and then flickered back into his body when he stilled.

Liatrix swore. She pivoted to dodge the incoming stone daggers. One icicle-thin shard lodged into her shoulder. A sense of amazed shock electrified her racing blood. The sudden stab oozed in a dark patch around the rocky stiletto.

To pull it out risked bleeding out fully if it nicked a vessel, but now was not the time to take stock. She hurled a boulder at Jadus, only to have it batted away.

Her eyes narrowed. He prowled dangerously close to the edge of the well and she took the chance to end him. A sharp tug with the Force brought him reeling forward into the abyss. The watery illusion vanished as he plunged head first toward the bottom.

Liatrix gasped and stole a moment to catch her breath. The wound felt hot. She tasted blood and spat it out. Fierce, biting pain radiated through her shoulder to her elbow. With the Force, she reclaimed her mask, this time binding the material more securely.

She stood, cautiously straightening and waited—but instead of the thud she hoped to hear upon his impact, Jadus shot out of the well to land on his feet, a few meters before her. For the first time in their duel, he drew his lightsaber, the scarlet blade roaring to life.

He strode toward her. “It’s over—you can’t defeat me, Incarnal.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” she said, backing away slowly.

“There is nowhere left to go. You’ve backed yourself into a wall.” Jadus swung his blade at her head.

Liatrix panted and dodged left, then right, his blade only inches from her face each time. With nowhere left to go, she shot straight up, somersaulted and landed on the chandelier above the well, and Deston’s jail. Every movement despite the Force shifted the stiletto. A pained sob escaped her despite her best efforts to stifle it. She clung to the bulky chain. The burning sensation in her shoulder became a red-hot poker that felt as if it were rending her arm apart from the inside out.

Jadus whirled around, his attention instantly hyper-focused on the chandelier and the bolts securing it in place.

Liatrix swung to and fro over the well. The illusion reformed, once more filling the depths of the well with water.

The bolts creaked above her, threading their way out of the fixture faster than she would’ve liked. She sensed Scourge above her and worked with him to still the chandelier. Another set of bolts plummeted into the well and the chandelier fell askew.

“He’s going to drop it on Deston, we can’t let that happen,” she hissed, hoping Scourge heard her.

The final bolts gave way. Liatrix hurled her off-hand lightsaber at Jadus. Scourge’s hands closed around her wrist to pull her up and against him. Just as the chandelier was about to strike the Force jail, Jadus himself, flung it out of the way to keep the cage intact, but something was wrong.

Liatrix’s lightsaber lay at his feet. Blood bubbled from his hand—half of it sliced clean away, leaving only his thumb and index finger attached, but twitching.

“Now we finish it,” Scourge growled. With a flick of his hand, the Force jail powered down and the field caging Deston dropped.

Vitiate’s faint signature bloomed like a neutron detonator, flash freezing the entire temple cavern into a sparkling frost-coated wonderland.

Scourge pulled the stalactite from Liatrix’s shoulder, quickly packing it with kolto, painkillers, and stims to speed the spread of the healing measures.

“After this—you need to end him,” Scourge murmured matter-of-factly.

“You want me to kill my own son,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“You must.”

“I’ll find my own way.”

“Don’t be stubborn. End him.”

“And what will you be doing huh?” Liatrix glared at him like he’d lost his wits.

“I have something in mind.” Without a word, he pulled the holocron from Nathema from under his cloak. “Trust me.”

“And you, trust me,” she urged. “I’ll make this work, but I’m doing it my way.”

Scourge growled, a mix of exasperation and annoyance. “I trust you.”

“Now, was that so hard?”

“Surprisingly? Yes.”

The boy, clad in loose wrappings ambled toward Jadus. “You thought you could contain me. You were mistaken,” the Emperor’s voice boomed from the child’s mouth.

Jadus towered over the boy Emperor. “First, let me finish what I’ve begun—then the real work may begin. Who would dare challenge us? Masters of the darkness, we have treaded its dominion and emerged not only unscathed but have risen above it as savants and harbingers.”

“I once believed you were the greatest Sith to emerge from the ranks of my failed Empire—but I see now, my judgment was premature. You presume to be my equal, but I require no harbingers. I am finality—the end of all endings. Now you will learn your place in my vision.”

The boy raised his hand, fingers splayed. For several seconds nothing appeared to change, and then an electric blue light burned through Jadus from the inside out, eating away his armor and implants first, then muscle and tissue, leaving only a sticky heap of collapsed skeletal debris at his feet.

Slowly, the boy turned around, his gaze fixing on Liatrix as she leapt from the nook to the edge of the Force jail and finally to the temple floor.

“So, this is where you’ve been all this time, squatting inside my son,” Liatrix said calmly and approached him.

Her heart ached at the sight of him, all innocence stripped from the gentle amber-brown eyes she remembered, bruises stippling his tiny body. “Is there anything left of him?”

“He exists, if only to feed your hope—an ingrained Jedi flaw you should’ve purged long ago. No doubt my traitorous wrath has instructed you to end me—but I have lived within your flesh and I know that to be an impossibility. For all your strength, this small child remains your greatest weakness.”

Liatrix clasped her hands at the small of her back. “I never thought I’d say it, but it appears you’ve won.”

“And likewise, I never thought I would see the day when you stand before me, damaged and defeated, but unlike Jadus, posturing and scheming until the end, I sense resignation in you.”

“I can’t beat you, you’ll hurt my son. All that’s left is surrender,” Liatrix said.

“Had you given yourself to me fully on Odessen, all of this could have been avoided.”

“But then you didn’t have anything that mattered to me.”

“Will you not bargain for his life?”

“Why?”

The Emperor laughed. “You’ve grown to know me all too well. Of course, without my strength powering these spindly limbs, this insignificant heart—the boy will die—all that remains is how. I am not without a modicum of mercy. Shall he die slowly, knowing the pain of every torment known to the galaxy, or will he mercifully slip away? The choice, is my consolation gift to you, my worthy adversary. Give yourself to me willingly and he will die quickly and silently like the time passing between us.”

Liatrix spread her hands, the white branching scars having burned clean through to her palms. “I submit—I give myself to you freely.”

Three things happened next in perfect synchrony. The boy fell dead the moment the Emperor left his body and entered Liatrix.

Scourge roared. “This is not what we agreed on! You were to end him!”

Liatrix’s gaze fixed tearfully on Scourge and with an upturned palm she called his lightsaber to her hands and plunged the blade into her gut.

Theron Shan tore into the temple, blasters out as her knees buckled and her body collapsed next to their son. “NO!”

The Emperor, unable to claim complete ownership in those few seconds rose, expelled from the dying body, the well chamber echoing with his fury.

Scourge thrust the holocron toward the Emperor’s essence. The power within fixed on the ghostly energy with the relentless tenacity of a homing missile.

“Stop! This is outrageous! Stop it! I demand it!” The ghost bellowed. “How dare you, my wrath—the unrepentant traitor!”

The sides of the pyramidal holocron opened, pulling Vitiate’s spirit inside the prison and then clamped tight like a vice, the scarlet glow inside indicating a perfect capture and containment.

Theron threw himself between Liatrix and their son and scooped the child into his arms. “It can’t end this way. Not like this.”

The Sith eyed the spy matter-of-factly. “There is no time to waste…”

((to be continued…))

<3

Forever is open to interpretation:

Nice chapter. Excited to see what happens next.

Nice way to dispose of Jadus and Vitiate.

Now to wait for the next part, to see whom Scourge and Theron hopefully will save, and how they will do it.

 

<3

Thanks, I'm glad I didn't disappoint in how they were dealt with. I hopped it would be fitting. Hopefully, the penultimate chapter will also be enjoyable and answer a few more questions. Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.

Forever is open to interpretation:

 

 

And full circle again to The Well. It has a certain symmetry. It's also appropriate for Scourge to be the one to imprison Vitiate, he's certainly waited long enough. Though, I'm not sure he saw Lia's role quite in this way.

 

Poor Theron. Caught in the middle of all this Force crap when all he wanted to do was save his son. I'm guessing that the Force may bring his son back, perhaps Lia, but still, I've often thought that the Force caused more trouble than it was worth in the long run. Reminds me of an old saying from Tolkien: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.

 

Ah well, now we wait and see what tricks can be pulled out of the magic hat to bring both Lia and Deston back IF it can be done at all.

 

 

Nice chapter. Excited to see what happens next.

Forever, the nature of good and evil, points of view, all of them are open to interpretation.

I'm glad you enjoyed the symmetry of returning to the Well of Undying at this point in the series, both times have similarities and yet differences, I like your choice of the word 'symmetry' it's what I hoped to achieve with it. I love symmetry very much, in most things. I'm glad you thought that Vitiate was dealt with by the proper person and that it was fitting.

Indeed, poor Theron. I agree, he had one goal in all of this business once he discovered the truth, to save his son. The Force is meddlesome and troublesome and the quote by Tolkien very apt. Hopefully, the final two chapters won't disappoint. Thanks for your continued support and for the thoughtful comment, I appreciate it.

Liatrix emerged from the fog, to find herself standing on a beach. With the calming surf lapping against the pale sand, it might have been Rakata Prime, but the lack of ruins, cliffs, trees, and warmth told her this was another place entirely. A pervasive absence of colour reduced the landscape to sculpted ashes—perhaps colour was a privilege known only to the living.

Beyond the shore, a void hovered over the water’s surface, the edges electrified and hungry. She shared its hunger and moved toward it, but some unseen barrier kept her from the water.

Darkness clung to her in loose swathes, forming robes, but it was not the grasping, greedy, power she had dallied with in life, only a frail reminder of it.

The fog ended at the shore and beyond it, she saw two lights, one larger, the other, smaller. Both passed through the void and emerged unscathed, as easily as passing through a portal.

The larger of the two lights moved toward her, its trajectory determined and unswerving. When it reached the shore, it took shape, one she knew well.

“Father,” Liatrix murmured. “I never thought I’d see you again. Not after the last time.”

“Nor I, you. The will of the Force demanded I leave you to your destiny.”

“Why?”

“As unforgivable and sudden as my departure may have seemed, my continued influence would have jeopardized all we had worked for,” Marr explained. “I knew the truth—your children lived—but it was information withheld for the greater good.”

“So that’s why you left—you knew—and the galaxy be damned, I would’ve gone to find them. My son might be alive now if you’d told me the truth.”

“It was a sacrifice I made with reservations, but one that needed to be made.”

“One you made, or one forced on you by Satele Shan? Every word out of that woman’s mouth makes me wish I could kill her again.”

“She knew as I did what needed to be done, the Force demanded it.”

“Where is she now? Gloating?”

“Having made my sacrifice, there were no more lessons to be shared. I chose to sequester myself within the Force.”

“Who’s that with you? That’s not…Deston? Is it?”

Marr nodded. “He has already passed through the void as we all must. He will remain with me. I will teach him all he requires.”

“Here? I wanted to save him…give him a chance at life.”

“And so you have.”

“This isn’t right!” Liatrix shook her head, eyes wide. “Take me instead! Let him live.”

“You are laboring under the misapprehension that my will or desire hold any power in this place.”

“That’s not fair, he’s only a boy. He deserves to live. Take me. I’m begging you.”

“Don’t do this, Liatrix.”

“What about the vision we saw in the fire? He was to be the greatest Sith our galaxy has ever known.”

“The future churns with possibility and outcomes, but has no stability—it is only a potential at that moment. You must go back.”

“Why? I don’t accept that.”

“Is your daughter reason enough? She lives and needs her mother.”

Liatrix’s gaze shifted to a point of blue light somewhere beyond the false horizon. “And Theron? He fought so hard to save him—I saw it all in his eyes when I fell.”

“Your son has already lifted his father’s burden.”

“That’s why you took him into the void.”

“All who come here must pass through it and reckon with the Force.”

“Is that why this is happening? Because I failed somehow?”

“No. It is because you succeeded and because it is not your time,” Marr said.

Liatrix took a step toward the sea but was rebuffed. “Can’t I go to him? I want to see him—hold him. I won’t go until I do.”

Marr nodded. “So be it.”

The small hovering light drifted closer to the shore but was unable to pass through the ethereal boundary dividing them. The light took shape and Deston pressed his hands against the unseen wall. “Mama,” he whispered.

Liatrix wept. “My baby. I tried. I wanted you to have everything. I wanted you to be free from the Emperor and I lost you.”

“I am free, Mama. I’m not lost.”

“I love you, Deston, more than anything. I want you to know that. All I ever wanted was to be with you. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving. Why did I ever do it?”

“Because you had to. If you hadn’t, he would have eaten the whole Force, even everyone here,” Deston glanced up at his grandfather, almost as if the check if he got the words right.

Marr clasped the boy’s shoulder and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” Liatrix swiped at her cheeks. “One day, we’ll be together again. No more looking at each other through panes of glass or Force veils.”

“Tell Sephna I miss her,” Deston said.

“I wish you could tell her yourself. If only I could hold you one more time.”

“Me too, but the Force won’t let us. I love you, Mama.

“I love you too. Both of you,” Liatrix whispered.

“We will see one another again,” Marr said, palm raised.

The beach grew distant. Even whispers seemed startlingly loud and unnatural. The false horizon vanished, taking Liatrix and the all-permeating grey with it.

Marr turned the boy away from the barrier and after taking his hand, started back to where they’d come from. “Death is no more her solace than it will be yours.”

“Why couldn’t we just tell Mama what Sephna will do when she grows up?”

“Because that, is not the will of the Force.”

“The Force is bossy.”

Marr chuckled. “So it is.”

Theron sat alone in Keeper’s office on Rishi with the lights off. The floor lacked the usual speckled patterns found in hospitals. So did the ceiling. The entire room was a drab shade of duracrete grey and he wondered if this is what the place between heaven and hell looked like.

Scourge had told him, “There is no more to be done.” The doctor had said the same thing. The medical droid repeated their words and found itself firmly implanted into the infirmary wall. His fists still throbbed but the cuts and nicks had begun to scab over. Balkar had carried him out bodily with his arms pinned.

He had faced many things in his life, but never futility. Why would the Force allow him to find his son only to take him away the minute he did?

Every living thing had lessons to teach us Master Zho had once told him. Strange how no answers or platitudes came at a time when he wanted them. Expected them. Needed them. The Jedi had a knack for silence when you wanted them most.

A speck of faint light appeared in the corner to his left. Warm and golden, it could’ve been sunlight, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find the source of it. How would sunlight penetrate durasteel walls at least a meter thick and underground?

The speck contained a thousand smaller specks inside of it and drifted upward to hover over his hands. He turned his palms up, eager for the warmth, eager to catch its light. The speck settled into his hands, illuminating his skin, his fingers and wrists until it had spread throughout his entire body. The pain in his hands went away.

He marveled at the sensation. He wanted to call it peace, or maybe love, or calm, but even if he were to combine all of those things, it would still be inadequate. Perhaps the closest word might have been goodbye.

No sooner had the sensation touched him, it ended. For all too brief a time, he understood a perfection he didn’t believe existed and the harder he sought to hold onto even a fraction of it, the more quickly it dispersed leaving him alone again.

Alone yes, but perhaps not so empty. He would always cleave to the memory of that moment.

Another presence joined him, this one, quite real and it came bearing a cup of hot caf and a blanket. “Jonas would like a word, is it all right for him to come in?”

“Sure, Lana. Yeah, that’s fine,” he said quietly.

She arranged the blanket over his shoulders and left without saying a word. Jonas edged into the office, a few steps at a time.

“Hey…sorry about before—but it wasn’t doin’ anyone any good.”

“Nah, I get it,” Theron mumbled. “Any news? Is she?” Theron managed, unable to finish the rest.

“Her vitals were pretty unstable—took a nosedive at one point, but Doc has her stabilized for now.”

“I’m sorry, for your loss. Anything I can do?” Balkar asked.

“Thanks. How about telling me something good?”

“Reckon I can manage that. Got to talkin’ with Vector.”

“How’s Ilia? Did she make it?”

“Yeah, it’s the damnedest thing. Whatever happened in that cave somehow purged whatever Jadus did to her. Looks like she’s gonna make a full recovery. When she’s well enough to travel, they’re going back to Dromund Kaas.”

“Thank the stars,” Theron murmured.

“Yeah, so that’s some good luck right there. You never can tell with Sith Alchemy. Speaking of which, Keeper’s been in touch with Vowrawn and Nox. I guess they’re coming up here—Quinn’s gonna work with Doc to sort out the lightsaber burns.”

“Makes sense, he did come up with the procedure.”

Jonas paced and rammed his hand through his hair. “There’s one more thing.”

“The way you say that—worries me.”

“Worries me too, but it’s probably better you hear it from me.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Theron muttered.

“They’re also bringing Sephna—long story short, she’s been with them for some time and now that they know who Deston belonged to, well, they know who her people are too.”

“Right, so, one family reunion, coming right up,” Theron sighed. “Maybe it’ll help. Give Lia that push to stick it out a bit longer. Having her daughter back might help cushion the blow a bit.”

“That’s what we were thinking too. Look—if you wanna get the hell outta here before that happens, I got all the time in the world—we could use some downtime. We can go anywhere you want.”

“As good as that sounds, as tempting as it sounds, I think I should stay, see it through, get some closure, once and for all…then maybe head for Tython.”

“Tython? But why?”

Theron’s lip crept up slightly. “It’s quiet. I need quiet. I may not have the Force, but I could use someone to talk to. Might catch up with an old friend or two.”

“That Jedi pal of yours? Gnost-Dural?”

“The one and the same, yeah.”

“I guess a week or two camping on Tython might not be so bad, but you know you can talk to me about anything. Just puttin’ that out there.”

“I know,” Theron said quietly and hung his head. “This is just…about possibilities. I need to know if something is possible, or if it’s just the product of the imagination.”

“Do you think whatever it was, was real?”

“Yeah,” Theron said cradling his caf. “I do.”

“Then it’s real.”

((to be continued…))

*sighs*

Looking forward to the next part. <3

Well, hell...

Sad, but looking forward to the next.

*sighs*

 

>>“Do you think whatever it was, was real?”

 

“Yeah,” Theron said cradling his caf. “I do.”

 

“Then it’s real.”<<

 

Love that!

 

Looking forward to the next part. <3

I'm glad you enjoyed that, it was meant to be of comfort and I hope it succeeded. Thank you for reading and commenting.

Well, hell...

 

 

"The Force is bossy." Yeah, it is.

 

Feeling a bit hollow and gutshot right now and not quite sure what to say. Though, one specific line does pique my curiosity: “Death is no more her solace than it will be yours.” Perhaps the Force can be merciful too? Perhaps death is not the permanent destiny for Deston right now after all, or perhaps I'm reading too much into it. As they say, 'It ain't over til it's over.' Nox isn't out of the picture yet. I still love your portrayal of Marr.

 

Theron's been through it and back again. The sorrow I feel for him is deep. At least he got some sort of relief by the spirit visit. I'd say he needs closure from everything and everyone at this point and going to Tython doesn't seem like a bad idea. Possibilities, indeed.

 

 

Sad, but looking forward to the next.

I'm glad you liked Deston's observation, he's a clever little guy.

Well, in saying that, in feeling that, you've given me a marvelous compliment and I appreciate it. The story is what it is and while it will be my last for quite a while here, I always like to include a way back, if I ever decide to continue. I'm thrilled that you still enjoy my Marr. I love him and there is always that bit of hope and panic that I've done him justice.

Theron's been through hell, more than he deserves. I think the best thing for him right now is closure and distance and I think talking to friends on Tython will help him regain what he needs in time. It makes sense to me that he'd seek out Gnost-Dural, given their friendship.

Thanks so much for the kind and insightful comments and for reading. Not every story is a happy one, but I'd like to think they all have some grains of truth, wisdom, and hope.

Scourge watched the eddy of bubbles coil around Liatrix’s body while the medical droid drained the treatment tank. No amount of kolto would remove the self-inflicted lightsaber scar, nor the pale trees of electrical damage coiling from her hands to her elbows like thready gloves. But the kolto would reinforce the layers of delicate reconstructive surgery mending her organs.

This afternoon was only the latest of many such afternoons. The rhythmic beat of life-sustaining equipment working persistently in the background was the only sound testing Scourge’s awareness. At other times, conversations between Kimble and Quinn would prevent him from sinking too far into his own thoughts. Their ideas, their plans circled the surface and whether he cared or not, became a part of him.

‘Plenty of sick and homeless pirates to keep Kira and me busy for years,’ the doctor had announced as if Scourge cared where he would end up. ‘And best of all? No Hutts and no Justicars.’

Quinn, while alert and dedicated to his duty, said little—the mark of an intelligent man, Scourge thought. Over time, and much to Scourge’s chagrin, he was forced to admit he and the Imperial shared many qualities in common.

Scourge had yet to meet Quinn’s wife, Darth Fernal—the only other to have served as the Emperor’s Wrath—a dubious distinction if ever there was one, but a distinction that still commanded respect and terror the galaxy over.

Fernal traveled with Nox, Vowrawn, and their entourage, their vessel due to arrive at any time. Playing to their own motivations and politics, Scourge suspected none of them cared to make the rush trip required, save for Quinn. The others would arrive in their own good time.

Though the introduction to his successor would prove enlightening, another introduction concerned him far more—the one he and Liatrix would share with their daughter. But hand in hand with anticipation came the inevitable crush of anguish and trepidation that followed a parent who had outlived his child.

Would remembering Toska diminish or enhance the bond with the true daughter of his blood? Was it a betrayal of the child he’d lost? If he feared anything it would be the answers to these questions, that only time could answer.

The droid transferred Liatrix to the table and initiated a sequence of drying, disinfecting and binding her wounds. The nearing voices in the hallway suggested this afternoon would be one of distraction and for once, Scourge was almost grateful for it.

“Hey Quinn, you won’t believe what I heard on the holonet earlier,” Doc said upon arrival. “Go on, guess. You won’t guess. Not in a million.”

“Tell me or don’t,” Quinn replied coolly, “But spare me these guessing games you enjoy so much.”

“A’right, a’right. You could afford to loosen up though. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“That may impress some of your more obtuse patients, however, I fail to see how it’s pertinent to my attitude.”

Scourge smirked.

Doc cocked his head like a confused Akk pup but was not to be deterred. Scourge had to award points for tenacity.

“So get this,” Doc began. “You remember Darmas Pollaran right?”

“Of course, I remember.” Quinn froze. “What about Pollaran?” He asked, his tone choppy.

“Get this, Republic authorities found him orbiting Belsavis.”

“Did he put up much resistance?”

“Nah.” Doc shook his head. “Near as they can figure he’d been strangled by a droid and shot out the airlock. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy, I’ll tell ya.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah, no doubt about it. The spy guys were monitoring it, so I listened in.”

“You eavesdropped. Hmph. Perhaps you missed your calling among the SIS,” Quinn quipped.

“Y’know, my career counselor said the exact same thing, but medicine, that’s the real action, and I’ve seen a lot of action,” Doc said, pulling double-guns with his fingers. “One of these days, the Journal of Xeno-Medicine will sit up and take notice of Ol’ Doc.”

Quinn’s nose crinkled. “That rag…”

Scourge stood, unfurling to his full height after sitting for too long. “When will she wake?” He interrupted.

“Today, I hope,” Doc said. “The Kolto is healing nicely—keeping her immobilized was imperative and seems to have paid off.”

“Perhaps a change of scenery would be of benefit, my Lord. You’ve been here for days on end,” Quinn said. “We would notify you of any change.”

Scourge twisted his left tendril ring. “Any word as to the ship?”

“Speak with Lana regarding their arrival,” Quinn offered. “I’m sure she has a more accurate assessment.”

“Hmm. Thank you.”

“My lord, there is one more thing, if I may be so bold…”

“What?”

“Your daughter, despite a troubling beginning, has grown to be a calm, clever, child, however that could take some time to re-emerge in an unfamiliar setting—a new setting, new people...”

“Because I’m a stranger to my own child.”

“I meant no offense, my lord.”

“None taken, I was merely stating an unfortunate truth.”

“I only meant to make you aware of the challenges. Such as the attachment she’s formed with one of Nox’s men—a former pirate captain and Republic deserter. Regrettably, now a constant to your daughter and a source of comfort. My wife went so far as to offer him employment on our crew, however, he refused.”

“I can see why,” Doc mumbled. “Brrrr.”

Scourge frowned. “Andronikos Revel.”

“Yes, my lord, clearly you’ve made his acquaintance.”

“I have,” Scourge glanced at the hospital bed where Liatrix now rested and started for the door. “If there are any changes…”

“We will inform you immediately, my lord.”

Scourge swept into the control room, but before he could make his demands, Lana closed the path between him and Theron and Balkar. “Lord Scourge—the ship will be making its descent within the half hour,” she announced. “You must terribly excited.”

“Excitement is hardly adequate, but it will suffice.”

“They’ll be landing on shuttlepad Alpha. A trip to town won’t be required.”

“Good,” he clipped, his attention landing on the spies. “Is it true about Pollaran?”

Theron nodded. “Yeah, it’s true. A contact of mine on Belsavis, confirmed it, just minutes ago.”

Scourge responded with a final acknowledging look and left the control room.

“It appears you two have managed to set aside your differences,” Lana observed.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but if he was gonna kill me, he’d have done it by now.”

“Hey, I’d call that progress,” Balkar chimed in.

Sephna toyed with the floppy-eared blue holo-monster on the Dejarik table and Andronikos watched her wistfully. After today, that would be it. “Hey kid, what’s with you and that Ortolan, huh?”

“Deston liked them,” she whispered.

“Yeah? Like you like Loth-cats?” He teased, rubbing her nose with the nose of the stuffed animal he’d given her what seemed like forever ago.

She nodded but tried hard not to blink. When he pulled the toy away, she wept and tried to hide it.

“Whassa matter, hmph?” Andronikos sighed.

“Deston’s gone. I felt him go away. Promise me you won’t go too.”

“Can’t, kid. Piratin’ ain’ no life for a kid. Look, you don’t need me. You’re goin’ back to your parents.”

“And what if they go away again too?”

“They won’t. This is for keeps. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna meet ‘em.”

Her lower lip shook. “I want you to stay, Nik. I-I love you,” she stammered and launched herself across the table to hug him.

His eyes widened. Reluctantly, he closed the hug and held her. Her tears stained his cheek and trickled behind his collar like little steaming snakes.

“Stay,” she hissed in his ear. “Don’t leave me.”

At that, he pried her away and watched her with feral blue-grey eyes. “Cut that out,” he warned.

“Why? You like it when she says it.”

“I said, cut that out. I ain’ sayin’ it a third time.”

“Why do you like her and not me?”

“It’s not like that. It’s different.”

“Cuz she’s grown up?”

“It’s just different. Besides, it’s time this comet broke orbit anyway.”

Sephna’s brows pursed. “Someday, I’ll find you and you won’t know it’s me.”

He pried her off the rest of the way and plunked her on the table. “I’d know you anywhere, kid. C’mon now. Don’t you be like her. You don’t have to be. I like you plenty, just as you are, you get me?”

She nodded grudgingly and pouted in such a way no father could deny, but he wasn’t her father or anyone else’s and that made him bulletproof. He flicked her lower lip with his index finger. “Pull that back in before a womprat chews if off.”

An even more grudging smirk lifted her lips and she retracted her pout. “I’ll see you again someday.”

“Not if I see you first. Now go wash your face—brush your hair. This is a big day for you. Like it or not, and put on that blue dress I got ya. That’s how I wanna remember you.”

Sephna collected her toy Loth-cat and shuffled to the refresher.

Fernal emerged from the shadows. “Why Captain, who would’ve guessed under that gruff exterior exists a good man.”

“Don’t go ruinin’ a man’s reputation, uh?”

“Not to worry, Captain. I’ll take your secret to the grave,” she said, offering her hand to shake. He accepted and held her hand briefly. “It’s bin one helluva trip, huh?”

“That it has, but new beginnings lay ahead.”

“And who would’ve guessed under that Sithy exterior lies an optimist.”

“Don’t go ruining a Sith lord’s image.”

Andronikos chuckled. “Thanks for everything.”

“Likewise. I take it you’ve sorted your loose ends here?”

“Workin’ on it.”

“And then what?”

“Same as always—gonna pick a direction and go in it.”

“Simple plans are always the best ones. I wish you well, Captain.”

“What about you and the General?”

“He craves Dromund Kaas like air. It’s been a long time, but we’re finally going home.”

The proximity alert chimed. “Looks like we’re here,” Andronikos muttered and returned to the cockpit to bring the vessel in.

Fernal’s gaze fixed on the double doors leading to the Captain’s quarters. Inside, Nox and Vowrawn spoke, but she chose not to linger or speculate and made her way to her bunk to catch a few rare and precious moments of meditation before disembarking.

Jonas refilled his caf and watched the control room lights dance on the surface of the inky liquid.

“I know what it’s like to lose...You okay?” Theron asked.

“You know what? I am. It’s a load off. No more lookin’ over my shoulder. No more resentment. It’s over. I always knew, one way or another, how things with him would end. I’m amazed he lasted this long. Makes me wish I was the one that pulled the trigger.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“S’pose not.”

“You’re still welcome to join me on Tython.”

“Thanks,” he said raising his mug. “A little peace and quiet never killed anyone, right?”

Lana smiled. “I’ll hold down the fort till you get back. Then we can begin putting this Chrono nightmare to bed, once and for all. No one should have a weapon of that nature.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Theron said. “For now.”

Deep fluid tones were the first thing to worm their way into Liatrix’s consciousness, then the warmth on her face and the bright light above shedding that warmth.

The light was deceptive and for a moment she believed herself back on the beach, but the acrid smell of medicine hung in the air, soon followed by the beeps of equipment announcing her awakening.

“My lord,” Quinn said softly. “Welcome back.”

“Quinn?” Liatrix blinked, her brow creasing as she puzzled through how his presence was possible. “You’re alive?”

“Quite.”

“Did you find her?”

“I did. Perhaps later, you’ll meet her. They’re due to arrive at any moment.”

“I’d like that,” she rasped.

Quinn tipped a glass of water to her lips. “There is someone else, you’ll wish to meet.”

Liatrix lowered the glass. “How long have I been out? Deston?!”

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

She nodded. “I remember now.”

“For what it’s worth, you have my condolences. I took the liberty of seeing to arrangements.”

“Thank you.” She sat up a bit more. “Where’s Scourge?”

“He went out to meet our latest arrivals—including, I’m pleased to say, your daughter, Sephna.”

“She’s alive?”

“Indeed. A long story, one better heard directly from your family.”

“I want to be there. I need to be up,” Liatrix hoisted herself up, wincing before swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“Take care, my lord. You’re still recovering.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll try not to get into any fights…my clothes?”

Doc emerged from the anteroom with a set of fresh robes. “Hey, beautiful, welcome back. Thought you might be lookin’ for these. I know there’s no sense holdin’ you back, just don’t overdo it. No bending at the waist, no overexertion. I’ve left instructions with Scourge.”

“I’ll behave—before you two disappear on me—I just want you to know, I’m grateful, for everything you’ve both done for me.”

“Service is its own reward,” Quinn said.

“Moments like this, tend to make Ol’ Doc a bit choked up.”

Quinn nodded. “If you wish to call it a day, Doctor, I’ll escort the Commander to meet the others.”

“Thanks,” Doc barked and disappeared again.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Quinn murmured and left the room to notify Scourge.

The exterior doors to Keeper’s base parted, the sharp beam of daylight cutting between them like a lightsaber. As the doors widened, several silhouettes dimmed the brightness to a more comfortable level and Quinn dropped the hand visoring his eyes. “At last,” he whispered.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Liatrix said, taking a few careful steps forward.

Vowrawn emerged from the group first, hand extended. “Lord Incarnal, Commander, it is my great pleasure to see you’ve already made such strides in your recovery.”

“Thank you, Lord Vowrawn—you’ve given me the greatest motivation I could ever hope for.”

“The gratitude is quite mutual, I assure you. Thanks to you, we,” he said, beckoning to Nox, “Can go home again.”

“We all can, finally. The long nightmare is over,” Liatrix added. “Though I’m not quite sure where home is at the moment, and much needs to be settled between us.”

“Not so much as one might think—Keeper informed us, you wish to rebuild and continue with your father’s vision of a strong, unified Empire.”

“That was my thinking yes.”

“That requires an Emperor,” Nox oozed. “A capacity Vowrawn and I have shared for many years and one I wish to continue in. I have inducements to see that happen. Give up your claim, Incarnal.”

Liatrix said nothing but watched the next moves unfold.

Fernal emerged from the bright light next, “A child is not a bargaining chip,” she threatened.

Scourge towered behind Fernal. “Vowrawn, what is the meaning of this?”

“A miscommunication it would appear.” Vowrawn clamped Nox’s elbow. “Without lifting a finger, our home has been returned to us. You are not the only one with inducements,” he said, raising a sharp brow.

“Does that mean you will remain here, among the living? That you’ve made your choice? I won’t tolerate any more talk of prematurely returning to the afterlife. We need you.”

Vowrawn smirked. “My dear, my decision to remain was made months ago. Long before our child was conceived.”

“Is that true?” Nox demanded.

“It’s true,” Fernal said flatly. “I can confirm it.”

Nox whirled on Vowrawn, her features softening. “And you said nothing?”

“Your conniving never ceases to amuse and delight. I’m a hedonist above all else. Are we in agreement, my dear? Darth Incarnal will serve as Emperor, together we will rebuild. See Marr’s vision to fruition.”

“Very well, we’re in agreement. My thanks to you, Empress, for ridding us of our great obstacles to a better life within the Empire.”

Liatrix nodded. “We all had a hand to play. We can finalize everything later. Right now there’s only one thing I really want to do, and that’s to reunite with my daughter,” she said, eagerly squinting at the light.

Scourge motioned for the child to step forward, and warily, like a wild creature, she took a few tentative steps away from the pirate shadowing her, but before she got too far, she leapt back and curled into his side and shook her head, her Loth-cat toy squashed against her chest.

“We talked about this, kid. C’mon,” Andronikos clasped her hand and marched her to her mother, Scourge following them closely.

Liatrix knelt carefully despite Doc’s orders and offered her hand. “I like your Loth-cat. Can you come closer, so I can pet him?”

Sephna nodded and extended the toy to her. Liatrix smiled and admired the toy animal. “Your dress is really pretty. You have no idea, how much I missed you. I’m sorry I ever left. I didn’t think I’d be away long…”

Quinn and Scourge exchanged glances, the latter placing his hand on Liatrix’s shoulder. “It’ll take time. We’ve been apart far too long.”

“You can’t know how happy I am to see you, Sephna,” Liatrix added. “I hope we can get to know each other, I’d like nothing more.”

Sephna nodded but kept her distance. “You look like Deston’s pictures.”

“I wish he could be here with us, right now, all of us, together.”

The child hugged her toy and turned back to Andronikos.

He clasped her arms and held her at their length. “These are your people, kid. Not me. I told ya, this comet’s gotta break orbit. Someday you’ll understand.”

Andronikos straightened and regarded the group. “That’s my cue. There comes a time even the stars burn out.”

Without a backward glance, he marched up the ramp and disappeared into the light.

“Andronikos…” Nox called after him, but no reply came.

Sephna sobbed and Scourge drew her up into his arms. She buried her face into his shoulder and clung to him.

Liatrix soothed the child’s back. Goodbyes were never easy, and no sooner had the thought scrolled through her mind, her gaze landed on Theron, leaning against the wall in the shadows.

“We should go,” Scourge murmured, the child’s eyes growing heavy with sleep.

Liatrix nodded. “It’s time.”

Vowrawn caught Liatrix’s arm. “There is one more thing—if I may have a moment…”

“I’ll catch up to you at our ship,” she whispered to Scourge. “Of course, Lord Vowrawn. What can I do for you?”

Vowrawn pressed a palm-sized datapad into her hand.

“What’s this?”

“Coordinates—I think it’s something your father would have wanted you to have. You’ll understand when you see it. It’s isolated, but I’ve arranged for all the amenities to be brought in. You’ll want for nothing as you recover. It’s yours.”

Liatrix examined the coordinates. “The Chommell Sector…I’ve never heard of it.”

“Few have. It’s quite uncharted for the most part, but a world of unparalleled beauty—a perfect location for our Empress to call home and you need not fear intrusion. Only I have the coordinates and I don’t plan on sharing them.”

“Thank you, Lord Vowrawn. I have every faith that we can restore the Empire to what my father would’ve wanted.”

A shadow fell over Vowrawn’s shoulder. “As do I. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend.”

“Of course.”

Theron stepped around the rejuvenated Sith lord and stood before Liatrix. “Hey.”

The silence passed between them, heavy and unpopulated and starved with no hope of being fed.

Liatrix glanced at the floor, before braving a final look into his eyes—a face she’d never see again except in dreams and nightmares. “Theron,” she began. “I don’t know what else there is to say, except, I’m sorry…for everything.”

“Yeah, me too,” he murmured. He considered telling her about the spark, the warmth of the moment shared with their son but thought better of it. A spark could forge hope and promises—dreams he needed to consciously set aside for good. The door needed to close and for better or worse, darkness needed to fall between them. “There’s only one other thing to say—and that’s goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Theron,” she whispered. The amber in his eyes seared itself into her soul—an ember never to be forgotten or seen again.

She watched him descend into the darkness into the base, and when he was gone, she started up toward the light.

Her father had always told her, that time is not the constant we believe it to be. It passes differently for everyone, despite man’s attempt to harness it, control it, or measure it.

Liatrix stood before the lake, slowly darkened by the incoming night, the first stars dotting the purple surface and defining a path for the world’s three moons to make their nightly pass overhead.

She set the last of the stones in place to complete the cairns she’d built—one larger and one smaller. Pleased with her work, she leaned back, fingers cooled by the moist grass poking up between them.

Sephna watched from the duracrete balcony and turned back to her father. “What’s mama doing?”

“Remembering,” Scourge said softly.

“But it makes her sad.”

“Perhaps, for a time. But until we know sadness, we can never fully understand the value of pleasure or regret.”

“Do you think I could go help?” Sephna asked.

“Why don’t we both go,” Scourge said, hoisting his daughter to his shoulders. Together, they walked to the grassy bank, and Liatrix stood to meet them. Scourge drew his family close under his arm.

“Can we help, mama?”

“You already have,” Liatrix whispered and squeezed her hand.

~The End.~

((Roll credits))

A/N: On September, 15th, 2012, I began a journey, one I never dreamed would become what it did. A series, five stories long; 613, 577+ words total and now concluding on November 10th, 2018. Six years of weekly chapter updates and a labor of love. If this story was a child, it would be starting its first grade of school. Scary and amazing at the same time.

I would like to thank everyone who followed along with the stories over the years, it means the world to me to share my SWTOR vision with all of you. Your comments and continued support over the years have buoyed me and were the fuel that kept me going, so I thank you all most humbly.

Now, I move on to write other stories that fight for my attention, original stories that beg me to tell them, so I shall do that! A writer’s work is never truly done. Thanks so much, everyone, it’s been quite the ride.

Thank you for the stories. They've invigorated my appreciation for the game by expanding on its tales, and inspired my own imagination. Helluva ride indeed, and I've enjoyed every bit of it.

Good luck with future projects.

Drum roll...

I've enjoyed each step along the way but time to set your feet on a different path. I wish you well wherever it takes you. Keep in touch. You know where to find me.

Thank you for the stories. They've invigorated my appreciation for the game by expanding on its tales, and inspired my own imagination. Helluva ride indeed, and I've enjoyed every bit of it.

 

Good luck with future projects.

Thanks, Eiter <3 You have no idea how much your kindness means to me. I'm so happy you've enjoyed the stories and through them gained a few things of value.

Drum roll...

 

 

And so it ends. Long journey over, put your feet up and enjoy a cuppa before the next one begins.

 

I've enjoyed the forays into other lives and still believe that Spy vs Spy and Marr was some of your best work. That being said,

 

It's all a fitting end. Scourge's family reunited, Nox and Vowrawn look forward to a new addition, Quinn and Fernal are once again together. Though forging the Empire of Marr's vision will not be an easy task.

 

Andronikus finally mans up and walks away, good for him. A pirate's life is where he belongs and not stuck with a manipulating woman that Vowrawn is, ultimately, better equipped to handle. Sometimes it's good to know when to take the loss and leave the game.

 

With Deston's death, Theron is free from any ties to Lia and can set his own path, as it should be. Tython is as good a place as any to find the balance and peace of mind he needs, and with Jonas along, what could possibly go wrong?

 

 

I've enjoyed each step along the way but time to set your feet on a different path. I wish you well wherever it takes you. Keep in touch. You know where to find me.

Yup, time for the deep cuppa and a bit of rest. Some dark chocolate to go with that wouldn't be a bad idea either lol. Thank you so much for the insightful and kind comments, the encouragement, all of it, over the years; you really can't put a value to that, only gratitude.

I'm glad you found the endings fitting, in a sense new beginnings for all, a long time coming and perhaps in varying shades of worthiness, as it so happens in life I think. Andronikus is better off being free to do his thing, he's been a part of Sith games for too long. He's more of a Rook than a pawn and deserves to go stretch his legs. Vowrawn likes the game and I figured if he was exposed to it long enough, the need to play would find him again.

Theron will need time to heal, though I'm not sure he ever fully will, given the scars he carries around from his parents. Jonas needs time too, but in a different sense. Both need to heal, but both have new beginnings and yet something they can return to as well.

I doubt Lia will ever fully let go of her grief, some prisons are of their own making, but now that she has her family back, she too will have a chance to heal and consider her father's life, what he did, and how it relates to her own and if she's willing to make the sacrifices he did. Armed with Keeper's information, she's in a better place to make these choices.

Thank you again for your unwavering support. I do indeed know where to find you, and of course, you know where to find me too. <3

Bawls uncontrollably* I'm gonna miss your writing... I've followed this story since the beginning and all I can say is bravo! It has many times filled my heart made me laugh made me cry. Best fan fiction ever. Thankyou for sharing it with us

*hugs* Thank you so much Taxidermis, your comment really brightened my day, and I appreciate you sticking with it all from the start. I'm happy you enjoyed them and that they took you up and down the emotional spectrum of the human condition. That's really the best thing any writer could aim for, and it means a lot to know that I succeeded, even a little. Thank you again. <3