18---Return of the Jedi

They laid Larin down on the one lone bunk that occupied
the shuttle they had stolen. It was not a place meant for overnight
travelers, but a simple cargo shuttle meant to transport goods from
one ship to another. The bunk was barely big enough to be called a
bunk, but for Larin, just being horizontal was enough to satisfy
him.
Somewhere close, Vaiya hovered. He opened his eyes,
which felt raw and bloodshot, and searched for her, reaching out
with his mind. Instantly, she was kneeling over him, her bright
eyes gazing down into his with compassion.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Like I just came back to myself," he groaned, his voice
unsteady. He shook himself, trying to chase away the haze with his
will alone. "How long....great Yejion, it can't have been too long..."
Vaiya cleared her throat. "How long after you left us did
you meet up with Cal?" she asked
"A few days," came the whispered reply. Vaiya turned
white. "What?"
"You've been with him for almost two years. He's had you
on that drug the entire time. Your body is addicted. What you're
suffering from now is withdrawl."
Larin wanted to lift his head, and felt that in his anger he
just might be able to do it. Instead, he forced himself to lay down
and relax, shutting his eyes against the dark side, against his rage.
As the moments passed, he became aware that Vaiya was helping
him, pouring her emotions into his heart, telling him everything he
had wanted her to say the last time they had been together...so long
ago.
He opened his eyes. Her look was troubled.
"I'll be right back," she whispered, and stood up. She turned
toward a small med kit and began filling a syringe. Then she
turned back and gave him a shot.
"What are you doing?" he moaned, but the instant whatever
it was in that needle hit his system, he felt his muscles suddenly
relax, as if the pain had been forgotten.
"Drianna and I have been trying to find a way to get you
through the withdrawl," Vaiya explained. "You've been sleeping
on and off for the last half hour, and we're going to be landing
soon on Durran."
"Why?" He touched her hand. "What is it, Vaiya?"
She took a deep breath. "Cal has my parents. He's going to
kill them. I know you've probably seen it before--"
"Actually," he interrupted, "I'm rather grateful that I don't
remember much. Except hammering away at you." He touched her
cheek, feeling he was going to burst with his emotions. She smiled
and gently took the hand in hers, but her brow furrowed again and
she continued.
"He means it this time. I have to face him and put an end to
this."
Larin nodded. "I'm coming with you."
"No you aren't," she said softly, firmly. "You need rest."
"Hell, with that stuff you just put in me, I could lift the
entire First Temple." He grinned, still looking completely beaten,
inside and out, but with a new energy nonetheless. "Besides, I
don't want you going without me."
'But you can't!" Vaiya protested. "This isn't some crazy
stunt we're trying to pull here, Larin! We could all be killed! You
aren't strong enough to handle it and you know it!"
He looked at her very hard, searching her eyes. He had not
known her for very long, but knew how much he loved her, and
knew that she loved him...no matter what shadow had seemed
to fall across her passions since last time. She was still his,
completely and totally, as he was hers. But they respected each
other. She let him go what he had needed to do (of course, he
thought bitterly, look at where it got him) and now he needed to do
the same for her. but the thought of her leaving him and going off
to face Cal Saphringer and his miniature army of goons made him
shudder in the core of his soul. She was in danger, he could feel it.
Something was going to strike against her, and she would need
him to protect her---
"I will wait here when you leave," he said carefully.
She started slightly. "That was too easy," she said.
He shrugged. "I'm tired." Then, his eyes melted into hers
and he used the strength he had left to pull her mouth down to his.
Vaiya enjoyed the kiss---even though her heart went to Seth
for just a moment, remembering the feel of his lips against hers. It
was only a moment...Larin was too beautiful to shut out. She
caressed his face, stroked his hair as his arm pulled her closer, his
fingers sliding up the back of her head, sending shivers down her
spine.
They parted and Vaiya stood up. "I'll be back before we
go," she promised. "Sleep."
"Yes, Ma'am," he said. As she turned and left, it was only
then that Larin let the shame of the last two years rush over him.
He rolled over and began to pray.

Cal was beyond angry. He was completely incensed. Mara
had stoutly stood her ground, and now he was going to have to kill
her.
They stood on the deck of a wide, levitating ship in the
middle of the great sea of Durran, also known as the Royal Blue. It
was far from any populated region, and the best part about it was
that it was the feeding grounds of the pincher sharks, who showed
their pincher-shaped horns, curved inward like two bows, as they
swam back and forth.
Luke and Mara regarded their situation calmly, and it was
starting to drive Cal nuts. Mara kind of gazed at the water over her
shoulder, her eyebrows raised in disdain as she attempted to
calculate how much time she would have before the sharks got to
her. Luke, for his part, was just looking at Cal, his mind focused
on Mara, as if even now he was determined to stand between them.
"Look at it this way, Mara," Cal said with a sneer. "You get
to die together."
She turned her head and looked at him as if she had
forgotten that he was there. "Whatever, Cal."
Cal stood up to his full height and waved at his guards.
They stepped forward and roughly shoved Luke and Mara in the
small of their backs, causing them both to stumble. They could
have continued the rough but short march if suddenly something
hadn't come screaming through the air, a raging insect of green
light with a familiar handle, sizzling the spray of foam coming
from the sea around them, and swinging back in an arch to get
between Luke and the one who accosted him.
The blade came down. It severed Luke's bonds, and then
flipped upright so that Luke could grasp it. Cal's eyes widened in
absolute fury as he pulled his own saber from him belt and lept
over the short rail to pounce on Skywalker. But Skywalker was
fast. He turned and cut Mara's bonds away with a quick, light
stroke. She cooperated as if the two were completing the same
motion, her arms coming up to clear him a path. She instantly
called a nearby blaster to her, and began firing away.
Cal screamed as he landed, his orange blade clashing
harshly against Luke's green one. In his rage, he did not see Mara's
hand slip toward his belt and then draw back until he realized that
she had her lightsaber, it's bluish-green glow stationary behind
him, almost as if she meant to stab him in the back.
Neither Skywalker had time to contemplate who their
rescuer had been. Their Jedi senses told them enough, even if their
human senses had no clue. Luke let Cal take the offensive,
carefully remembering his Jedi defensive stance. It had been a long
time since he'd engaged someone in battle for real. Cal was an old
fashioned villan, the kind that always had to do it himself because
no one else got it right. As they clashed again and again, Luke
began to worry slightly--Cal was physically younger than him,
especially now that he had been regenerated. Of course, Luke
himself had experienced the same thing, even though not to the
extent that Cal had. These were not his disadvantages, but his
vigor to fight had mellowed with his years, and while his body
stayed young, his mind had grown and matured to his peaceful,
mediating Jedi Master mindstate.
It was hard to remember how to fight, even without
passion, to move quickly and look for the enemy's weakness
without harming him. But Cal was faster, his reflexes were
quicker, and before Luke knew it Cal had him pinned against the
rail, overlooking the hungry pincher-sharks below.
There was a sudden flash of purple energy right behind
Cal's shoulder, and Cal let out a small scream, more from shock
than from pain. The very edge of a lightsaber blade had scored a
heavy black line into his clothes, and as he turned, he looked up
and saw the lightsaber return to its owner.
Vaiya's hand gripped the handle hard, feeling more angry
than she ever had in her life. She had spent the trip watching Larin
recover from what Cal had done to him. She had run from her
home because he had lied to her and deceived her. She had run
from the temple, where she was happy and safe, just to come out
here and face another one of his attempted murders. And worst of
all, she had time and again had to come to the rescue of those she
loved, those whom Cal made life miserable for, those who suffered
needlessly. Now he was trying to kill her father before her eyes. He
was evil. Not even the markings on Seth's face could make Cal
look more evil to her than at that moment.
Evil must be destroyed, she thought, and her rage took
over, a self-righteous fury that made her eyes burn and her teeth
clench and her lips peel back into an angry sneer.
"Get away from my father, you slime-sucking son-of-a-
Hutt!" she screamed.
Startled, he gave her a long look. Luke took his chance to
get out from under the rail, but knowing the look on Vaiya's face,
he did not engage Cal in battle again, but instead let the man creep
toward Vaiya, lifting himself up onto the raised platform on which
she perched, lording it over him like some large predatory bird.
Eye to eye, he was a good foot taller than she. But she
didn't flinch--her rage made her powerful.
"Vaiya, I'm impressed," he said, extending his blade to
hers. "But do you know this trick?"
The second saber slid out from the other handle, and Vaiya
looked at it and grinned.
"As usual, Cal, I'm ahead of you." And she activated her
own saber.
The fight was on.

Mara made her way over to the nearby docking side of
Cal's big ship. There were two smaller water speeders there, both
equipped with guns. This one was closer, and it had fewer people.
Letting out a roar that Luke had long since taught her to do, she
jumped onto the speeder, scaring the hell out of three of the five
crew members. They dropped their weapons and Mara quickly
used the Force to toss them into the water below.
"Is this a private party, or can anyone join?" she shouted as
the remaining crew member with a gun began to open fire on her.
The others picked up long metal poles used for steering and
clearing away debris, but she hacked them away with little
thought.
Then her danger sense tingled. She looked behind her at
the remaining guard who was at the controls. He was grinning at
her, his hand on the steering stick. With a laugh, he yanked at it
hard, and Mara saw that he had his other hand firmly tied to the
rail.
She hit the deck and grabbed the nearby bars as the small
speeder tipped over. Her fingers screamed under the sudden strain,
but she managed to hold on as the machine rolled. The waves were
only feet away from her face, and she saw a few of those shark
creatures hovering close, ready to jump. If she had been wearing a
cloak, there was no doubt that they would have snatched it up in
their teeth. When the dizzying ride stopped and she found herself
upright once again, her green eyes narrowed on fury on the driver,
and she lunged at him. His expression went from malicious glee to
stunned realization that she had held on. As her fingers closed
about his collar, he could hear the screams of the others on the
hoverboat as the sharks lept to receive his gift to them.
Mara glared down at him, her saber close to his neck. "The
way I see it, you have two options," she said, her voice deadly


calm. "You can either sink or swim."
He jerked out of her grip and heaved himself over the rail,
praying he could get to the bigger boat before the sharks had
finished with his friends and decided they wanted seconds.
It was then that she detected the new presence. Familiar,
and yet not familiar...she whipped her head around.
He came from the lower decks of the bigger boat, jumping
across to land on the speeder beside her. Mara found herself
distracted with the effort to remember who he was, and then it
came to her that he worked for Cal. She raised her saber, but he
put his hands up as he landed, his face changed from the madman
he had once been.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"A friend," he replied, his eyes hopeful. Such eyes they
were, too. As she briefly probed his mind, she could see Vaiya
there, and she relaxed.
"Then come join the party, friend," she said. "And be sure
to stay away from the dip."
He frowned slightly, not understanding Mara's pun, but
then the heavy sound of lightsabers clashing caught both their
attention, and they turned and looked up to see Vaiya and Cal
hacking away at each other, their faces glistening with sweat, their
muscles tense and locked, their mouths grim with determination.
Mara felt the vibration in the Force. "Too much," she
whispered, feeling like she was going to stumble. "Too much...."
"The dark side," Larin whispered. "She'll fall at this rate."
Then he turned and looked at Mara again, pulling a golden-
handled saber from his belt and igniting it. It glowed a brilliant,
pure white.
"Excuse me," he said, and lept up to the rail.
Mara jumped. There was no *way* that this guy could take
on Cal Saphringer! His body was beginning to shake from his
exertion. Whatever had happened to him, it must have been an
awful lot, because Mara could easily see that he was hiding his
weakness behind a facade of bravery.
"Hey!" she shouted, but it was too late. He lept for the
larger ship, and she was surprised that even in his weakness, his
Force ability was strong. He landed against the heavily steeped
side with breathtaking agility.
She could only cock her eyebrow after him in confusion,
but it quickly passed into a grudging admiration. After all, he was
going to go save Vaiya. How could Mara possibly argue with that?

Luke had sensed the dark side the second Vaiya appeared.
In spite of the fact that her mere presence was a miracle, there was
a deep rage in her. A righteous, well-deserved rage, to be sure, but
a deadly one. Her conflict with Cal had finally caused a fountain of
animosity to swell with her, and its waters poured over her heart,
fueling her with new strength.
The strength of hate.
At first, Luke tried to call to her, remind her not to use her
hate, to remember the light, to stay away from the dark side. But
she did not hear him. Her entire focus was locked, her attention
solely on her fight with Cal. While in the depths of his heart he
truly wished for her to strike him down, he knew that if it was with
her hatred she might never recover the light that she had been
blessed with, even in her youth.
But the force of their battle shut him out.
So instead he tried to stay close, watching and waiting
while he kept the ground troops at bay, slicing off the ends of their
blasters and destroying the small cannons that decorated the rim
of the boat. Then he saw one gunner aim for something on the port
side of the boat, and as he judged the distance, he realized that he
would not get to the man in time. He reached out with his mind,
and saw that the gunner was aiming at Mara.
It felt like it happened in slow motion. Luke turned,
shifting his weight to throw his momentum in the right direction,
but it wasn't enough. He reached out with the Force, trying to get a
grip on the man's throat, hoping lack of air would stall him, and
was relieved to find that the trick worked. The man pulled away
from the aiming glass, his hand going to his throat, but a hard look
of determination crossed his space-burned features and his hand
closed even tighter around the trigger of the cannon.
Luke prepared to throw his saber, but suddenly a white
saber arched up from below and severed the head of the cannon. It
caused an electric explosion that forced the gunner back, shrieking
in pain. Luke let go of his hold on the man's throat, his defense
immediately switched to discover their new friend. He knew this
presence, but it wasn't familiar...although it should have been, he
was sure---
A head full of thick brownish-blond hair and eyes that were
indescernable in color appeared over the rail of the boat. They
looked at Luke at first in astonishment, and then in recognition.
"Master Skywalker," he said, swinging himself onto the
deck.
Luke nodded. "Larin, right?" he said. Then, warily, "How
are you feeling."
Larin tossed him a grin. "I'll tell you in a minute."
Luke watched as the man strode purposefully down the
deck to where Vaiya and Cal were fighting. He would have smiled,
if a hatch from below hadn't suddenly popped up under him,
revealing two familiar, grease-streaked faces.
"She's all set to blow!" Drianna said, letting Derrin help her
out of the hatch. "We'd better get out of her!"
Luke nodded, and then felt another ripple in the Force. This
one was harder, more direct, and it made him groan slightly with
its closeness.
Drianna and Derrin felt it, too, and drew their sabers from
their belt, thinking the enemy to be close by. But as they followed
Luke's gaze, they saw the source.
Vaiya was going to tear Cal in half.

She drove against him, trying to remember everything that
Syrian had taught her. Fighting with Seth had not been like this.
She had not wanted to hurt Seth, not in the least. She should have
been angry with him, but she had forsaken her anger. Now, that
anger had returned, and it would not release its grip on her.
With each lightning-quick stroke of her blade, she got
nearer and nearer. She could feel the dark side closing in around
her, but it wasn't the suffocating despair that she had always
believed. It seemed so familiar in its nature, like a bright light
dimming slowly until you don't even realize that you're closed in
darkness. And with the darkness came power, the power to move
faster, to strike harder, to batter Cal until she saw the arrogance in
his handsome, youthful face fade away until she could see the
bitter darkness that lay within him.
She struck again, with both blades. He caught it quickly. If
he had had only one blade, he would not have been able to match
her, but he did, and it kept them at a stalemate for a good several
minutes. He tired to push her back, bring the fight to her, but she
was steady footed and not about to be pushed. He managed to get
behind her, so that she stood not too far from the rail. Maybe if he
could get her to slip, or something hit her hard enough, she might
slip.
Suddenly, without warning, he smiled.
"Vaiya, I think you have a temper problem," he hissed.
Vaiya's rage grew at the sudden condescending smuggness
that filled his face. "Big words for a man who's losing!" she
growled, her blade coming down hard on top of his. He slid his
own blade across the heavy hold, managing to get his on top of it
for just a second. The effort made her pause because of its
unexpectedness. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him, her
mouth slightly agape as she struggled to breathe.
"Am I losing?" he asked. "You can strike me down, Vaiya,
but I will still win. Because if you kill me, you will become me. I
swear it by all the dark powers I know."
"I know your dark powers!" she sneered back, their blades
unlocking. "Do you think that cult will be loyal to you? They
betrayed their own! You're no less a pawn than Seth was!" She
brought hers down onto his with unrepentant fury, her words
coming out in short, breathy gasps as she used all of her strength.
The more Cal gazed at her with that knowing smile, the harder
she struck until she felt her strength give way.
Only too late did she realize it. The muscles in her arms
started to tingle so badly that she found she couldn't lift them. She
looked up at Cal, whose arrogance had returned a hundred fold, in
time to see him almost casually swipe the lower part of his
lightsaber at her.
It grazed her leg, the deadly tip slicing through her clothes,
going into her leg, going across the flesh and easily tearing through
it. She screamed as the wound began to bleed heavily, from her
mid-thigh to her knee, and barely managed to crumple to the deck
in time to save the limb before it was severed completely.
Cal stood over her, victorious but panting heavily. He
pointed the lower end of his blade at her, bringing it closer to her
face. He was going to make this slow. He was going to tear her
eyes out, slash her jaw away, and then rip her open from stem to
stern. His teeth gritted as he grinned with glee, getting closer and
closer to her, savoring her fear, empowered by the dark forces that
surrounded them, empowered by her fear as he showed her his
thoughts.
Then came the white blade, down across his, shoving it to
the side. Cal tried to compensate by bringing it back, but as he
looked up into Larin's face, his expression crumbled.
Larin did not speak as he gazed at Cal, but his expression
told Cal everything. He was off the drug, his arm was scarred
heavily but he was upright and breathing. He wasn't that strong--
Cal calculated how much effort it would take for him to overpower
him, but he abandoned it as Larin's eyes bore into his, daring him
to try, promising him that he would regret it. Then, calmly, Cal
withdrew, taking a step back, his saber sliding away and
disappearing into his belt. He nodded. "Another time, then," he
murmured, and promptly threw himself over the opposing rail.
Larin rushed to the rail in time to see Cal land safely on the
other speeder, which had been hiding on the other side of the boat.
Cal waved at him as the boat tore off, shooting bright purple lazer
blasts behind it toward the other speeder.
Larin looked down at Vaiya, who stared up at him, so
stunned by his presence that she was not even thinking about her
pain. Without a word, he picked her up in his arms.
"Hold on," he whispered.

"Sith!" Derrin swore as he dove for the small cannon on the
back of the boat. The purple fire missed them, but he was
determined to return it. Instead, he was annoyed to find that Mara
had taken the controls of the ship and was going forward, causing
him to almost lose his balance.
"HOLD ON!" she screamed, her face arching upward
toward the main deck of the boat. "COME ON!" Her voice carried
like thunder. "LAST FERRY OUT OF HELL BOARDS NOW!"
Luke jumped from his perch on the rail, the last of the three
Jedi to abandon the ship. He landed a few feet away from Mara,
and she gave him a split second to steady himself before she tore
forward again.
All four of them searched the deck for Vaiya. What they
did see, they didn't quite believe. Larin was lifting Vaiya up, her
leg oozing with blood. He jumped up onto the rail, every last
ounce of his strength poured into the movement, and then he
jumped.
Incredibly, he landed on his feet, Vaiya firmly clutched in
his grip. He rocked forward and set her down--a bit bumpy, but it
got the job done. Then he swayed back on his feet and nearly
collapsed onto his behind, gasping for air.
Vaiya lay sprawled on the deck, gasping in pain, the
severity of her wound finally reaching her. Luke came forward to
attend to her, but at that moment the large ship behind them
exploded.
They hit the deck, their arms covering their faces, the small
boat rocking wildly for a few seconds, even as Mara managed to
maintain enough control to keep them going. She increased the
speed, opening everything to full throttle. The water beneath them
parted with the heavy force, sending thin spray up onto the
passengers.
Luke reached Vaiya and began to supress her pain. But
while her mind cooperated with his, her eyes were locked on
Larin, who was still breathing heavily, his flesh turning a sickly
white, while his cheeks burned with exertion.
She didn't say anything. She shut her eyes, and let her
father do his work.

19--Light of the Force

The ocean of Durran was rather large, and they had plenty
of time to put Vaiya in a healing trance before they finally docked.
Mara didn't know the area too well and had to rely on a semi-
conscious Larin to tell her the fastest route to the First Temple.
When they reached dry land, Mara discovered with surprise that
Cal's little speeder was more agile than she had believed. It quickly
switched from its water legs to a more sturdy hovering, sutible for
solid ground. It took them the better part of an hour, but they
managed to find a place to get Vaiya cleaned up. They weren't
even given funny looks. But they shrugged it off as being due to
the fact that humanoid offworlders would probably blend in pretty
well in populated areas like this one.
At a secluded in, located in a heavily wooded area of the
edge of the city, they laid low. Vaiya healed quickly, as lightsaber
wounds usually cauterize themselves. It was the bleeding that was
her real danger because her leg was ripped in a wide V, and it took
a lot of effort to contain the blood.
Emotionally, however, she was a sulky, self-hating wreck.
She did not speak to anyone outside of the bare minimum
to took to tell them whether the wound hurt or not, or how it felt.
Her face was drawn, her eyes bloodshot, her entire features
slumped in dejection. Larin wished he had the strength to comfort
her, but he was desperately trying to build himself back up. After
Mara and Luke had left them to their privacy, they lay on the bed
together. Vaiya had stoutly refused to let them pull it back, so she
lay on top of the soft comforter, her leg bound and lying on some
heavy cotton that had been put there not just to padd the leg but to
catch any more blood if it decided to flow again. Larin dragged
himself into the room, and her expression changed from one of
self-reproach to concern for him. She shifted slightly, being careful
not to move her leg, and pulled a pillow out from the bed to set it
down beside her.
"You're exhausted," she said.
He nodded as he sat down on the bed. Fatigue screamed
through every inch of him. He didn't even have the strength to
speak, simply obey as she patted the pillow and reached out for
him, to help him lie down, which he did. She caressed his brow,
pushing back the thick hair. It seemed darker now, more of a
brown than a blond, and his eyes, as they gaze up at her, were a
hazy blue with his emotions. She wanted to smile at him
reassuringly, but found that she couldn't.
"What is it?" he whispered, taking her hand in his.
She shook her head, and then reconsidered, her eyes
softening. "Thank you for saving me before."
He just smiled, a small laugh escaping the back of his
throat. "You don't have to thank me for that. Do you think I would
let Cal touch you?" He paused, his face flinching with memories.
"When I'm not on some personality-altering drug, that is."
"No, not from Cal. From myself."
He looked up at her, his eyes so blue now they made her
thing of the sea they had just passed.
"I almost gave in to the dark side," she whispered. "In fact,
I did give into it. Full throttle, I gave in, knowing it was wrong and
not even caring. I would have killed Cal, or he would have killed
me. Or both." She shut her eyes, her face contorting with her guilt,
and she shook her head, her throat closing. "God...I can't believe I
would do that!" Her eyes opened, and the despair in them was
tanglible.
Larin rolled himself over and pulled himself closer to her,
so that is face was inches from her. "So you're human," he
whispered. "It happens to everyone. We're flawed, Vaiya. Terribly
flawed--we're stepped in our own weakness and it is only by grace
that we can keep from falling into darkness completely."
"But that's just the point!" she cried. "I had that
grace...Larin, you don't know the things I was able to do when we
faced that cult before, in Cal's spacestation."
He regarded her calmly. "Such as."
So she told him. She told him about the angel that had
appeared to her in the First Temple. She told him about how it had
set her free when she was being held captive, hesitantly related
how she had fallen when Larin had appeared, much changed. She
told him how the angels had appeared at her sides when she had
gone up against the cult brothers. She told him how she had helped
the leader, Seth, break way from their power, and while Larin
scowled slightly at the mention of the sith lord's name, he still
listened.
When she was done, she was exhausted, and lay her head
down on the nearby pillow.
"All of that, only to fall now. I feel like such a....failure."
Larin was silent for a long time. He lay back on the pillow,
staring up at the ceiling. Just as Vaiya felt a real batch of tears start
to well up in her eyes, he spoke.
"You're not a failure, Vaiya, if you try again."
"Try what? What could I possibly do that I haven't already
done?"
He glanced at her, his look mildly reproaching. "You know
it isn't done. Are you going to give up now? You saved me, you
saved your parents, you saved that Seth...all that is left is what
you've been searching for, and your mother has been searching for
for the last twenty years."
"And that is?"
"Your brother, Vaiya. Cal still has him. And if we don't get
moving soon, only Yejion knows what will happen to him."
Vaiya jumped. "Oh great stars. I almost forgot!" Her eyes
grew wide as panic threatened to take control. "What do you think
he'll do?"
Larin shrugged. "I remember bits and pieces of my
captivity," he said softly. "I remember treating you...terribly. You
fell before because of me."
She frowned. "Don't change the subject. Anything but that."
"I could go into a nice bought of self-pity and claim that I
am your weakness," he said, a bit sardonically, "but I can't do that.
You see, I know that you have to come with me if we want to get
Valery back. I wasn't your weakness, Vaiya. It was your emotions
that got in your way, just like they did with Cal. Don't you see? It's
classic dark side rage. No different than any other Jedi Knight.
You have to remember all the things you've learned to fight it, and
call on the new weapons as well. Everything depends on it."
Vaiya flinched and turned away. She had expected more
coddling from Larin, even demanded it. After the way he'd
behaved, even if he wasn't physically responsible, he was still
personally responsible, as it was his face and person everyone saw.
But even though he was sorry for what he had done, he was not
willing to sit around and wallow. From that, she found a grudging
admiration. It was very little against her wounded pride, until he
reached out for her in a loving embrace.
"Don't be mad at me, Vaiya," he whispered. "I love you
more than myself. I wish I could run myself through with my own
lightsaber for what I did to you, but I can't. We're called to
something higher. We have a mission to accomplish."
"And when this is over," she said, her voice sounding
distant. "You're going to leave me."
He paused. It stunned him, the things she knew...the things
that just came to her, as if placed there by a higher power. "What
makes you think that?"
She rolled over and looked at him, her face softening.
"Larin...after all you've been through, you need time. Time alone to
sort it out. You don't need me getting in the way." She shook her
head and laughed a little. "It seems that your emotions for me are
your weakness, too. I guess that means we have something in
common."
"Or that we're very much in love." He cradled her cheek in
his palm, wanting to kiss her.
Gently, she pushed him away. "There is a time for
everything. I have a feeling that it won't be so terribly long, but it
will be a separation."
It was his turn to frown in confusion, and his thoughts
whirled with the unfairness of the situation.
"The best things in life," she said, suddenly sounding wise,
"are always worth waiting for. I love you, Larin," and his face lit
up with the words that she was saying for what felt like the first
time, "and I want to be your wife."
His face seemed to shine with an otherworldly light as he
smiled at her, gently, lovingly. "When we are together again," he
promised, "I will make you my wife."
He reached forward and kissed her. It was a long kiss, their
lips pressed tightly, their breath mingling. When they pulled away,
it felt like they didn't even need to speak.
Still: "We need to heal fast," she murmured.
"We can take one day," he said, settling down on the
pillow. "But that's it."
"Will that be enough?" she asked softly.
He nodded. "It will be. I know it."
She nodded back. She knew he was being guided as surely
as she was. As she slipped away, her hand reached for his, and his
strong fingers closed around it.

**You cannot judge the soul of a man. Only I can judge,
for I am the only Judge, and the Ruler of all hearts. So says
Yejion....*

Night fell. When Vaiya awoke, just as the first rosy tendrils
of dawn started their long reach up into the sky, she was alone. For
a moment, she was afraid that he had left her for good, but a gentle
touch against her thoughts told her that he wasn't too far away--he
just needed time.
Something had stirred her. A memory, perhaps...the things
she had been told by the angel, maybe. Something about judging
people. She shut her eyes and let her suddenly jumbled thoughts
fall into peaceful order, and then she could recall it more clearly.
This confrontation would cost her more than she had
originally thought. The words that had been spoken to her just days
ago, while she was praying in the temple, catapulted her into a
myriad of visions. None of them were clear--She saw Larin, his
face covered with blood, but he was beaming with victory. She
saw Seth, stripped to his waist, his facial tattoo covering the
uppermost part of his chest and his shoulders, but his bared arms
and stomach of the same fleshtones as herself. Water poured down
on top of him, and he disappeared as she saw her brother, Valery,
and an uncanny ability to heal. She saw him as a boy, and then saw
him as a man, ready to fight for what he believed in, ready to die
for the Order of Yejion.
She shook the visions aside. They were distractions, ways
that the dark side was slipping into her subconscious, trying to
make her ignore the message she knew was coming.
*Do not take your lightsaber.*
She opened her eyes and looked down to see she was
gripping it in her right hand, even though she had not worn it to
bed. She picked it up and studied it as if she had never seen it
before. It was the only weapon she could have as a Jedi, to be used
only in defense and never in attack.
She had to leave it.
Whatever happened between her and Cal, she had to trust
that she would be able to handle it. Or maybe...maybe she wasn't
meant to survive this. Perhaps that was why she was seeing this
flittering glimpse into the future. Everyone would live happily ever
after, but she had to die first.
Vaiya shut her eyes, the realization washing over her fast.
She pulled her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, her
lightsaber still clenched in her fist. This wasn't fair...Larin being
addicted to those terrible drugs and barely able to fight, her not
even able to bring her lightsaber....she had been told to make it as
she had! What good was it here? Then she remembered facing
down the brotherhood of sith lords and realized that the saber's
second blade had served its purpose. Perhaps she would never use
it again. Perhaps she would never use the saber again, period.
Perhaps she was going to die.
Long minutes passed as Vaiya struggled. The minutes
turned into an hour, and she struggled with herself. If she brought
the saber, she could destroy Cal quickly. But she would give in to
the dark side to destroy him, and wind up destroying herself. Or
she could leave the saber, and Cal would be quick to cut her down.
Even if he attacked in an attempt to flush out her blade, she would
not be able to stop him. She would be helpless. Helpless before his
evil, and the evil of the cult that was now backing him.
She prayed, but it was hard. She dug deep inside herself
and saw how much she had accomplished at her young age. She
thought of Valery, of how she barely knew him, and he was her
one and only brother. She thought of Larin, and how much she
loved him and wanted to be his wife. She thought of Seth, and how
she had chosen her feelings for Larin over him, even though he had
made her feel things that Larin was keeping from her--for the time
being. Why? Did he know she was going to die? And Seth...such a
passionate man. She had kissed him with such benevolence. Surely
he believed that there was nothing between them but a lot of lust
and a little bit of destiny. But she banished thoughts of him and
turned to her parents.
They had fought at her side for so long...they had to be told
where she and Larin were going to go. If only she knew what to
tell them.

Mara looked out over the low, thin forest. It wasn't exactly
a forest, but more like a swamp without all the water. The heavy
bushes were deep green, their leaves spread wide and long over
each other. Around them danced several dozen sparkler bugs, their
quick flames flickering on and off, as if the woods were glittering
like gold.
It would have been beautiful. But Mara didn't feel like
looking much. She was worrying again...Luke could sense it.
Gently, he pulled her into his arms from behind, his hands sliding
under hers where they knotted together on the rail.
"Worried."
"Yes. But it isn't that."
Luke gently probed. "You're thinking about my son?" he
whispered.
Mara nodded. "Can't you feel him? I've felt him since we
came back here. I was hoping to be able to do some research into
my family history, but I haven't had a chance to go near any of the
public records." She grimaced. "So close, Luke. I feel like it's all a
part of me, and it's just out of reach."
"Your past...or Valery?"
"Valery. What an odd name...it sounds like a childish
variation of Valeris. Perhaps when he gets older, he should be
called Valeris."
"Well, he is only a boy. Ten years old by now, according to
Vaiya."
Mara turned, her expression troubled. "Do you think he
would like me?" she whispered.
"What?"
She shrugged. "I'm not his mother. Callista was his mother.
I feel bad because I left her lightsaber at home." She was starting
to ramble now, but her fear was real. "I'm afraid that he'll hate me
because of...well, you know."
Luke nodded. "I think you should wait until we find him
first."
"I will find him," came a familiar voice. The two parents
turned to see their daughter coming toward them. She had changed
out of that purple velvet costume and into a sleek black suit that
was remarkably like Luke's version of the Jedi uniform, only new
and neatly pressed. The front flap hung open, but she wore a thick
cloak over her shoulders with a hood, all made of that purple
velvet.
"Do you know where he is?" Mara asked, stepping closer to
her daughter.
"No, but I will." Vaiya's face was grave. "I will bring him
home to you, Father," she said. "I promise."
Luke found his way to Mara's side and looked at his
daughter carefully. "Maybe you need a few more hours in the
trance," he suggested. "You look almost delirious."
Vaiya smiled and nodded her head. " I am delirious, but my
delirium is more real than anything right now. I came here to tell
you that....Larin and I....we're going to go confront Cal. I don't
know what we're going to do, but we have to gain some sort of
closure for him or else he'll be haunting us for the rest of our
lives." The look on her face was almost angelic in nature.
It frightened them.
Suddenly, she unlatched her lightsaber and stepped toward
them. "You need to keep this for me," she said, her voice nearly
husky as she strained to make it sincere. As Luke reached out
for the double-ended device, he felt Vaiya resist and nearly pulled
back, but a quick prod with the Force shut out the indecision from
his mind. Calmly, she put down her hand and continued her serene
stare at her parents.
"You're going...without your lightsaber?" Mara asked, as if
it were a joke. "Are you kidding?" she demanded. "He'll cut you to
shreds! He'll---"
"Mother," Vaiya whispered, and she fell silent, her eyes
darting only to Luke to see the look on his face.
It was a devistated look. Perhaps many years ago he had
worn that look as his father died in his arms---a good death, a
death in the light, but another wound of loss that he had to sustain.
He had lost his father, his mother...he had never known his son.
Now his faith demanded that he also sacrifice his daughter. Anger
rushed through him, anger at Cal and the desire to cut him down
himself.
Mara's voice stopped him. "No," she said, very evenly.
"You're not going. It isn't you he wants, it's me. I started all of this,
and I will finish it."
Vaiya smiled, ever so gently, in compassion. "No, Mother.
I am taking your place. I have been told to do so. Yavin will move
before I will sway from this course."
Mara's face darkened, and her anger, like Luke's, swelled.
Luke reached out to her with his mind, showing her how to release
the rage.
Vaiya continued to speak as her parents struggled for a
grip. "I was once friends with Cal, even if he was lying to us and
deceiving us. But why did he not strike against me when we were
students together? This doesn't make sense. I was told to not judge
any man's heart. I cannot judge Cal's heart, either. I feel that there
is some good in him...."
Luke jumped slightly. "Vaiya, take heed," he whispered. "I
know about trying to bring back people from the dark side. It's
hard to do without losing your life in the...process."
He froze as the look on Vaiya's face changed. She was
holding back tears, and her throat had started to close.
"That is why I wanted to say goodbye," she managed. "I
wanted to tell you, because you two have done and sacrificed so
much for me. And I think you have a right to know....I may not
return." She struggled for more words, but could only manage, "I
may not...."
At first, they just gawked at her. Then it ran through their
minds all the possibilities of what she was implying. Would she
give in to the dark side? Would she defeat Cal and then run away
because she was unable to kill him, or had killed him and was
suffering from the guilt? Surely she would not believe herself to be
capable of such cowardice. Finally, that left only one option.
Vaiya might be killed.
Mara was the first one to react. She stepped forward and
pulled Vaiya into a powerful embrace. In a few seconds, Luke
followed, his arm around his wife, the other around his child as
she struggled to keep herself composed in the heat of emotion.
It was hard to hold her there, knowing the seconds would
pass. She had grown up so fast. It wasn't fair to lose her so soon!
She was so young, she wasn't even at her full growth yet! Her
powers were barely being tapped into, and she had so much to live
for. Now she was telling them farewell as she slipped out of their
embrace, her eyes flowing with tears and her cheeks wet, but
composed perfectly in her mind and heart. She prayed for them,
and then stepped away.
They clung to her hands, and she had to extract them.
Although it was a difficult moment, Mara and Luke remained
composed, and started at their daughter with pure wonder.
Vaiya nodded and smiled, her left hand still in Mara's grip
but slowly coming back to her. She stepped back, and her hand
came free. As the grip of her flesh let go, she let herself go. As she
gazed at them next, they seemed almost like the angels that had
visited her over the last months. Except the angels had been
confident and unafraid of anything.
Luke and Mara stared at her as if they were trying to
memorize her every last feature. The fear that rose from them was
thick, and while she was tempted to remind them that fear was
from the dark side, she could not begrudge them this small bit.
They were afraid that their child was going to die. It was a hard
thing to dismiss.
Perhaps some fear was good. She took a deep breath and
locked hers away, carefully focusing it only on her fear of failure,
of weakness, of doubt. Would she be strong enough? Would she be
able to face the end? Without even her lightsaber to defend her,
she felt like a lamb being led to a sacrifice.
She took one last look at her parents. "I love you," she
whispered, and it carried like a song in the night covered forrest.
Then, with a last, brave glance, she lowered her head and turned
away.
Luke and Mara watched her go, the despair tangible in the
darkness around them. She seemed to float out of their view, her
thick cloak draped over her shoulders, then the hood pulled over
her head. When she disappeared altogether, it seemed that she had
merely become a part of the shadows.
They looked at each other, shaken. Then, in the same
motion, they turned to each other and held each other fast. Their
minds touched, seeking comfort, but all they could come up with
was an unerring faith that Vaiya was right.

20--Showdown

By some small miracle, Larin had managed to get a shuttle.
Vaiya did not question him as to how he had gotten it, she just
accepted it and boarded. Larin waited for her at the top of the
ramp, his face bright as the withdrawl of the drugs faded slowly
from his body. He seemed remarkably healthy for having been in a
healing trance for such a short time, but Vaiya did not question
that, either. Just as she did not question her own calm, her feeling
of strength.
"Where is your lightsaber?" Larin asked, his smooth face
crinkling into a frown as his eyes landed on her bare waist.
"I left it," she whispered. She kept going, taking her seat at
the small console, beside the pilot's seat, which Larin quickly took.
He started up the engines, and Vaiya took it as a sign that he didn't
want to fight with her over it--as by human logic he should have;
watching her go into a battle without a lightsaber to defend herself
was about the equivalent of watching her committ suicide.
"Why?" was all he asked.
Vaiya frowned, knowing she had an answer, but unable to
voice it. "A long time ago, my father was training to be a Jedi," she
tried. "He was trained by the Jedi Master Yoda, on Degobah. And
when he faced the dark side for the first time, it was in a cave that
was heavy with evil. They think a sith lord died there or something
like that. But the point is, when Father went to go into the cave, he
took his lightsaber and his blaster. Master Yoda tried to warn him,
telling him that what he would find in the cave was only what he
took with him. Because he brought his weapons, he was faced with
a vision of violence, and part of it came true. He didn't trust in the
light side of the Force, didn't trust in its strength." She paused,
carefully chosing her words. "The light side of the Force may not
have been enough to give him faith, but I've found something
better than just the Force. And after all I've seen, I'm willing to put
a little faith into this, even though I'm walking right into the dark
side."
Larin nodded. "Master Luke told me that story. He told us
that we were walking into our own cave, and to take with us only
what we want to find." Larin shifted, and Vaiya caught the glint of
Valeris' old lightsaber. She wanted to be surprised, even upset, but
instead she just nodded. "I was told to bring this, Vaiya. I have no
intentions of using it, but I was told to bring it."
"That is your path," she whispered. "I wish I knew mine."

Larin managed to piece together from his fractured
memory a rough plan for getting into Cal's station without Cal
knowing, and they managed to hide in an obscure dock that was
probably used only for disposing trash. It looked abandoned
enough to be safe, but they took care in getting inside, relying
heavily on the Force to watch for unexpected occupants. A
surprisingly short time later, they were in the core, over the
catwalks, heading for the throne room. Vaiya looked around her
and shuddered. A brief vision of her fight with Seth flashed before
her eyes, but she dismissed it.
Now was not the time.
"This is too easy," Larin whispered. They paused, only half-
way across the catwalk, their bodies tense in hesitation. "He should
have detected us by now."
"Maybe he wants us to come to him," Vaiya whispered.
"He wants us to walk into a trap, or whatever is behind those
doors."
Larin nodded. "Then perhaps we should split up."
"Good idea. You go find Valery, and I'll take Cal."
Larin jerked his head around to gawk at her. "What?"
"You heard me." Her voice had gotten deeper and she took
a step forward. "Go find your brother." She looked at him, hard.
"You've spent most of your life running away from him, Larin.
Now you have to find him. His life depends on it."
Larin stared at her for a long moment, and then nodded.
"Do you want my lightsaber?"
Vaiya smiled faintly as she gazed back at the throneroom
door. *You find only what you take with you...* "No," she said.
"I'll be fine."
They exchanged meaningful looks, and then parted ways.

Larin moved quickly and with purpose. The Force showed
him the way, Valery's young mind in a strange state of calm, as if
the boy knew that rescue wasn't far away. Larin sent him
reassurance, only to find that it was he who needed it, not Valery.
He smiled to himself. He was so young, just barely a
decade old. The last few years of his life, though, were spent
beyond his youth. He had been searching for Larin, and Larin
always knew it. But he'd run, taken to the stars with Vaiya and her
Jedi friends when they had come to bring her home, because of
Mara's amnesiatic state. Then he'd fallen right into Cal's hand, and
while he'd remained hidden from his brother the entire time, he
had found that the harder he ran the worse things became for him.
Funny....his own flesh and blood, and Larin felt he barely
knew the boy. He was a quiet child, always quick to smile, with
those great grey eyes that were sometimes too old for a child his
age. His rich brown hair always fell into those eyes, giving him a
rather shaggy, adorable expression. His parents had always said he
would be a heart breaker someday. Sometimes they wondered if
Yejion hadn't sent them an angel to care for and love as their son.
The day they had found him, just a baby, encased in some sort of
stasis block, and brought him home had changed their lives. But
Valery had only been half past his sixth year when both their
parents were killed.
He cringed. Those days were not fond memories...he let his
rage rule him, gave himself over to it. That was how he'd gotten
invovled with Cal to begin with. If he had stayed with his brother,
provided for him rather than letting the boy go with his aunt and
uncle, perhaps none of this would have happened.
And he never would have met Vaiya.
Larin shook his head. No, that was the only bright spot. He
knew that they hadn't exactly had the most romantic courtship, but
his heart knew her and loved her beyond human reason. It was like
they were connected, and not in some big dramatic sense. The
bond had always been there, even before they'd first laid eyes on
each other.
The corridors were long and winding, but surprisingly
clear. As if someone had made way for him. Instantly, Larin
stopped and stretched out with his feelings. No one was close, and
there was no sound except for the very low hum of the electricity
flowing through the station, giving light to the long hall.
This had to be a trap.
*Larin?* came a familiar voice to his mind. Larin jumped.
*Valery?*
*I'm over here--can you see me?*
Larin focused on the direction of the send, but the errie
quiet around him was distracting him. He stepped forward and
crouched, straining his eyes, and saw a faint light--no, it was more
like a sheet of light, stretched across a doorway a good hundred
feet down the corridor. He practically ran to it--the forcefield was
weak, but it held steady. And behind it stood Valery, a few years
added to his youthful face, his eyes still wide and grey, but gentle.
He smiled, pure joy radiating from him. Larin felt a sudden urge to
cry. All he had done, and Valery was gazing at him as if he were
one of Vaiya's angels.
Larin found the nearby control panel and realized it needed
a code to activate it. Stretching out with the Force, he found where
the small circuts that projected the beam itself were embedded in
the wall. Taking up his lightsaber, he reached up and sliced into
the wall, making a log cut all the way from the top of the doorway
to the bottom. The forcefield faded slowly, but as soon as it was
gone Valery rushed out and hugged him.
"Did you find her?" he asked.
"Who?" Larin replied.
Valery gazed up at him. "Vaiya. I met her, you know."
"When?"
"When I was with Grandpa Valeris." Valery gave him a
slight frown. "Why weren't you there?"
Larin struggled for an answer, but could find none. After
several seconds of silence, Valery pulled away. A look crossed his
face of pain, the sort of deserted lonliness that one often sees on
stray dogs left out in the rain. Then it cleared, and his face
brightened. It was like those eyes could see right through him.
"It's okay, Larin," he said, his soft voice almost cheerful.
"No, it isn't." He bent down, putting his hands on Valery's
shoulders. "I deserted you. If I had stayed with you---"
"Then were would we be?" Valery asked, his young face
looking older by the second. "No, Larin. Things happen for a
reason. Yejion makes good come out of evil. Now, I'm going to get
to be a Jedi, and live with my sister, and my father, and my father's
wife." There was a dreamy look on his face now. "Mother
promised me," he whispered.
Larin frowned. "Val, Mother never knew where you came
from."
Valery shook his head. "No, not our mom. I mean my
mother. She promised me that I would get my family back...poor
Aunt Gretta and Uncle Stan are probably pretty worried, but I
didn't have a choice but to leave. I called them several times to let
them know I'm okay, but they still want me to come home. I hope
they don't fight too hard when Vaiya's parents come to take me. I
would hate to have to hurt them, but I have to go with the
Skywalkers."
Larin shifted on his feet, confused. "Wait a minute--when
did you see your mother? She died years ago."
Valery smiled at him. "She comes and visits me...she was
with me a lot after Mom and Dad died. She talks to me, shows me
things, and sometimes knows what is going to happen before it
does. Her name is Callista, and she has this pretty, thick braided
hair that looks like a silk rope down her back, and her eyes are like
mine. She never stays for long, just long enough to make me feel
better when I'm sad. But she told me that she can't stay with me
much longer, so I have to find my family soon." He glanced up at
Larin, who was staring at him strangely. "I know that you are my
family, Larin, even if we aren't blood. But I was meant to be a
Skywalker. I just know it."
Then, as if a sudden light had been turned on inside of his
face, Valery's face exploded into a symphony of expression, going
from panic to pain to urgency.
"What is it?" Larin asked, grabbing the boy even though he
made no attemt to physically move.
"Vaiya...we have to hurry. The bad man wants to kill her,
and he's taken over that devil-worshipping cult. They almost killed
her before, but their old leader was with her."
Larin briefly remembered Vaiya's lightsaber trick--not a
trick, but a miracle. "Her angels will protect her, Valery," he
reassured him.
Valery shook his head. "The angels weren't for Vaiya. They
were for Seth. But Seth is gone. Vaiya has to face her fear and
defeat the cult, and she can't do it alone." The grey eyes began to
glow. "I have to help her, Larin. You have to help her."
Larin shook his head in confusion. "Of course we will,
Valery. But why wouldn't Vaiya's angels protect her now when
they were sent before?" He didn't know how he knew that Valery
would be able to answer his question--asking a 10 year old child
for a theological explanation was not something he did on a
regular basis. But somehow, he was sure the answer was right on
the tip of Valery's tongue.
"Because," Valery said, almost impatiently, "*we're* her
angels, Larin! Sometimes, Yejion makes us do things for
ourselves. Now let's go!"
And they proceeded to run.

Vaiya hesitated outside of the doorway. There was a strong
sense of fear, and she wasn't sure if it was coming from her or
from Cal. But she could feel him, as surely as he felt her. Even
with the heavy metal closing off the entrance, she could feel his
eyes boring into her. She swallowed, and said a quick prayer. This
time, something told her, she would have to face Cal alone. She
was not to be a warrior, but a Jedi, a peacemaker, a disciple for
Yejion. She was to go into that room even if it meant her life, and
if Yejion chose to deliver her, He would send her His angels again,
in whatever form he choose.
The doors slid open and she stepped inside. The first thing
that hit her senses was a low humming sound that was distinctly
vocal. She strained her eyes and saw the giant transparisteel
window that arched around the back of Cal's self-made throne was
dotted with shadows, the figures of the cult, chanting their
diabolical hymns. The air was thick with the dark side, and Vaiya
struggled to keep the light before her as she entered. She briefly
wished she had brought something physical to light the way, but it
seemed that she saw all in her mind as clearly as if the noontime
suns of Tattooine were beating down upon them.
As the doors slid shut behind her with a hiss, she drew a
breath. She had been preparing for this moment for only a short
while, and her unreadiness was disconcerting. Cal was sitting,
silent and glaring, from his place, but there was a look of sadistic
pleasure on his handsome features. Not only that, but the first
swirling lines of a red and black tattoo.
"Well, well. People do move up in the galaxy." He leaned
forward, grinning at her in a nearly charming way. "Now the great
Vaiya Jade Skywalker is a Jedi Master."
She shook her head. "I am what I am, and no more. And
you, Cal...what have you become?"
"More powerful than you." He stood up, and the humming
grew louder. "You know, I have a confession to make--I didn't give
these brothers enough credit. Without Seth blocking them with his
light, they're actually extremely powerful in the dark side." He
shrugged. "Of course, I already knew that. That was why I took
them in all that time ago."
"Yes, because you knew they would give their power to
you." Carefully, she stepped forward, reaching out with her senses.
"And how long have you depended on them for your power, Cal?
Perhaps only with them using you as a focus can you really tap into
the power of the dark side. You've become addicted to them,
haven't you?" Her voice was gentle, almost sympathetic. "If you
had trained in the light----"
"I tried!" Cal's voice thundered and he glared down at
Vaiya. She had known his face as one not much older than her
own, but what stared at her now was the furious, aging man
underneath it. "I tried to train. I came to your parents' precious
academy and they rejected me because I was too good!"
"That wasn't why," Vaiya said softly. "They rejected you
because you were seeking to use the dark side of the Force, not the
light. And you came to the academy surrounded by the dark side.
You had these men make you young again, and you deceived us.
You deceived me." Her voice nearly broke. She had not let herself
face that pain...the loss of his friendship was drowned out by the
anger she felt at his betrayal.
Cal stared down at her. "Your mother getting angry at me, I
can understand," he said conversationally, his tactic switching so
quickly that Vaiya jumped. "Your father hating me, I can
understand. But you...what did I do to you, Vaiya? We were
friends, you and I...you know, I actually liked you. And when you
had that vision, I was only trying to show you the truth."
She jerked as if he'd struck her, taking a heavy step back.
"That was your doing?" she rasped. "You sent me that visions of
my parents killing each other?"
"I sent you a vision of what should have happened, what
could have happened. You were too proud. You walked around
like you were incapable of doing wrong. Like everyone should kiss
your feet because you were a Skywalker." He almost grinned. "The
only thing endearing about that is the fact that you get it from
Mara."
She blinked hard, tears springing to her eyes and she felt a
horrific sense of injustice. "You should talk about pride," she
snarled, and then forced herself to calm down, shaking away the
tears. "Cal," she started again, calmly, carefully, "are you telling
me that you had no intention of bringing any harm upon me or my
family when you came to the academy."
He glared at her. "And what if I didn't?"
She stepped forward again, her heart praying harder with
every beat. She felt like something was stuck in her throat, the way
the words refused to come out. "Then," she finally managed, "I am
sorry for what happened."
He snorted, but the look that followed was just the one she
had been hoping for. A look of consideration, not that homicidal
maddess that hovered just beneath his smooth face. The same look
Seth had worn when he looked at her, wanting her and yet
terrified of what it would mean.
But this was Cal Saphringer. He had only desired Mara,
and in the process had completely destroyed any chance he would
ever have of making peace with her. He had struck at her family, at
her home, at her own memories. There was no chance of Mara
ever being in his life.
"But you could still be happy," Vaiya whispered.
Then, Cal's face hardened, as if it had turned to stone. The
partial face tattoo seemed to twist and grow, and a maniacal look
was in his eyes. He stepped forward, and swung his hand out,
snapping his fingers. The door behind her slid open again, but
Vaiya did not look. She did not have to. Larin and Valery entered
the room, their astonishment at their entry rippling through the
Force.
"Just in time, my friends," Cal said, his voice cold, deep,
like the men behind him. Vaiya could sense their dark powers
congealing around Cal, charging him as if it were electricity. She
felt the urge to run, to push Larin and Valery out the door ahead of
her and just run. But she stayed her ground, and waited.
"Leave her alone, Saphringer," Larin warned.
Cal clicked his tongue. "Come now, Larin...you know she
hasn't suffered enough. Why should you get to have all the fun?
Besides, isn't this what you wanted? For Vaiya to be broken and
beaten...don't you remember?"
Larin shook his head, and said, "Not this time, Cal. Those
were your desires, not mine. I've had enough of your attempts to
control me. Mark my words...you will never do it again."
"Indeed," Cal sneered. "It's a real shame, Larin. You have
so much potential in you for the dark side. I tried to help you with
that drug, but you still fought me. I don't know if you realize what
you could have been--the next Vader, or better than that, the next
Palpatine! But you're too stupid to accept it. Don't you know the
power of the dark side? Must I prove it to you yet again? Or must I
destroy you?"
At that moment, the five men behind him started to glow.
The dark side presence was nearly choking her, but Vaiya was able
to watch as the blue energy flittered around them like a heavy
tentacle of light. Their hands were raised, stretched out into the
center of the circle, and from their fingertips the tentacle of light
began to congeal, then spin and flash. Smaller beams radiated
from it, and Vaiya recognized it as a kind of Force lightning she
had never seen before. It was more dangerous than any she'd ever
encountered. It was thick with the evil from Cal's soul.
And Cal was going to destroy Larin. He raised his hand, but
Vaiya cried out, "Stop!" and it made him pause long enough so she
could get between them. "It's not him you want to kill, Saphringer!
It's me!"
He glared at her. "You'll get your turn," he hissed.
"Cal," she pleaded, "you don't have to do this. For your own
sake, I'm begging you. You can leave this place, you can come
with us, I promise that whatever hold the dark side has on your
soul will be broken. You just have to let us help!"
He sneered at her. "You're ridiculous, Vaiya. Why in the
world would I want to do that? What good are you, anyway, except
for judging me and my kind? We have powers at our fingertips that
a God like Yejion bestows stingily on weaklings like you. Why
would I want to be weak? Look at you...you didn't even bring your
lightsaber!"
She shook her head. "I don't need it, Cal. I'm begging you
for the last time, don't do this to yourself. If you strike me down, if
you kill me, you will never defeat me. You will only be defeating
yourself!"
The disgust on his face was matched only by his snarl as
the Force lightning suddenly shot forth, surrounding her in a
painful storm of dark side energy. She screamed, her arms flying
out to her sides, her elbows nearly embedded into her sides, her
chest rising as if her heart were being pulled from it, her mouth
open and every muscle in her neck stretched and strained until
they looked ready to snap. Then Cal pulled back, and she
crumpled, landing on her knees, gasping for air. The pain radiated
from her, and Larin tried to rush forth to help her, but Valery's
small arm held him back.
"The men with the faces," he whispered. "Mother says to
strike at the men with the faces."
Larin cast a fleeting glance down at Valery, and then at
Vaiya, who had fallen onto her side and was struggling to get back
on her knees. Her cloak lay across her like a shroud, spreading
around her like a pool of blood. His terror for her life was heavy
and overwhelming, but he swallowed it back, relying on Valery's
calm for his strength.
He prayed. He sent his will out to Yejion, and found what
he needed to do. Without even thinking about it, he pulled his
lightsaber from his belt and lit it just as Cal launched another
attack.

Vaiya did not scream this time, but her entire body
convulsed. She collapsed again, panting heavily. So this was what
it had been like for her father, screaming and dying underneath
the blue bolts of pain. So this is what her mother had endured,
weak as it was from Cy'Both. And she had endured it as well, from
these same cult brothers as they sought to capture her.
But they had not tried to kill her. Nor did they have before
the seething hatred of Cal Saphringer. Perhaps Seth's feelings for
her had saved her before--he was not here now. Perhaps now was
the end, to die in pain like this, to die in this graphic, bright glory,
destroyed by the dark side because it could not have her, and in
effect giving her life to save that of Larin and Valery.
She glanced at them. Valery was holdin Larin back, but
Larin grabbed his lightsaber from his belt. And from behind
Valery, she saw something else---something bright and beautiful,
dressed in a silver-grey robe, embroidered with pearls, almost like
the angels that had appeared to her, but different somehow...as if
the person inside it were not an angel, but a ghost.
Cal struck a third time, and the figure grew brighter as the
pain drew nearer around her. It turned and looked at her with wide,
grey eyes, her malt-brown hair tumbling down her shoulders and
spilling out of the hood of her cloak.
*Callista.*
She did not know how she knew the woman, only that it
was indeed her, staying close to her son, watching over him like a
guardian angel. From beside her, Larin shut his eyes and raised his
arm, the blade glowing a fierce white in the darkness of the room.
Pulling his arm back, he released it. Vaiya was blinded by
the lightning once again, this time her consciousness sent into
partial oblivion. She felt someone run to her, felt a small hand rest
on her shoulder, realizing that the sizzling sound of the electrical
blasts had stopped, and there was now a horrible shrieking sound.
She raised her head, but her eyes wouldn't focus. Finally,
she dropped to the deck in exhaustion, her body spent.

Larin lifted the saber in his hand. He would only have one
chance. True, this job was more up Vaiya's alley, considering her
keen telekinetic powers. She could balance a dozen lightsaber with
a mere thought--he wasn't sure about his own skills.
As he raised it over his head, he was compelled to shut his
eyes. A feeling overtook him, the sensation that something was at
his shoulder, guiding his arm, begging him to trust.
He let go with his feelings, and then swung his arm around,
the lightsaber flying from his fingertips as lightly as if it had been
caught by air sprites and carried to its destination. It swung around,
the heavy thrumming sound mingling into the terrified shriek and
sickening slicing noise as the blade found its first victim, then its
second, then it's third, fourth, and finally fifth.
Within seconds, Cal's power faded from him, and he turned
to see the cult of the destroyer as dead as any mortal, their bodies
sliced in half, their horned faces forever wide in astonishment, not
understanding how they had been struck down so easily.
Cal shuddered. Now he was off-balance. Now he was
weak, vulnerable. But the worst of it was, he was afraid.
He glanced at Vaiya, who was not moving. Had he killed
her? He'd been trying to, but now the thought seemed to weigh on
him. He glanced back at Larin and watched in astonishment as the
saber returned to the man's hand.
"It's over, Cal," Larin announced. "Whatever else you could
do to us won't be enough without your back-up supply of dark
magic."
Cal just stared at him, the beginnings of despair creeping
into his mind. He had a choice to make: either he gave in to the
Jedi and they attempted to "save" him (the thought made him
shudder in repulsion) or he...ended the battle.
He turned and walked toward the slain sith lords, expecting
a storm of dark energy to wash out of them. So many sith lords!
How had he and the others survived the Force's backwash? Surely
it had to come---but there was nothing! Just cauterized bodies, the
stink of ozone, the heavy taste of death.
Larin stepped closer, his saber still in his palm, but his face
more gentle. "You see?" he whispered. "They all fall before the
Power of Yejion."
Cal looked at him, his eyes defiant and proud. With a
sneer, he dropped to his knees. "And I will fall, too," he bit, putting
his lightsaber to his chest.
Larin jerked, surprised. Cal....commit suicide? Because of a
little set back like this? Sure pride would prevent him from dying
at his own hand! He shook his head. "You know you don't want to
do that."
Cal was panting slightly. "Then what?" he demanded, and
shook his head, the hate swelling in him. "You have defeated me,"
he hissed. "What should I do? Repent, as you have done?
Surrender myself into your custody?" He paused, as if considering
his own words,and then said, "I would rather die."
He ignited the lightsaber, and the orange beam passed
through him, flying out his back, like a comet's tail. His face
changed, the pride completely consuming him as death rushed
upon him. His eyes took one last look at Larin, who could only
watch as he slowly crumpled, his soul shrieking as it left the room,
shrieking with the maddness of the dark side, with defiance, with
evil.
Larin stood back, feeling suddenly alone. So Cal had
chosen the dark side in the end. He had embraced that oblivion. He
had chosen himself over all else, and was now where he desired to
be.
The fact that Cal had chosen it, freely and willingly, was
what frightened him more than anything else.

Valery rolled the woman onto her back. Her insides were
bleeding, her organs were in danger of erupting, and she was in a
semi-comatic state. He had to do something quickly.
He had not been with his aunt and uncle for more than a
year when he'd discovered his uncanny ability. Once he had found
a bird, flopping around the base of a tree, and had picked it up. Its
wing was broken, and hung beside the animal, dead and useless.
Carefully, Valery had lifted it, and stretching out with what he had
always known as the Psyenergy, he was able to set the small,
delicate bone back into place. The creature's pain shrieked out at
him, and just as quickly he abated it. Within a few moments, both
of the birds wings were flapping into the sky--Valery had given the
bird back his life.
Vaiya was not a bird, but that mattered to him little. He had
healed human wounds before, small ones--no one he'd touched had
ever been close to dying. He'd kept it secret from his aunt and
uncle, knowing instinctively that they would probably try to
capitalize on his ability. His aunt and uncle were not cruel people--
they just did what they had to in order to survive, and if that meant
exploiting their nephew, they would do it. He had always had the
feeling that they weren't that fond of him, but they were
responsible people and had treated him well enough, keeping him
fed and sheltered and clothed as the law ordered. His mind did not
travel to them much since he left his home to find Larin. He knew
that they would be worried, as decent folk are, but they knew he
was alive, and perhaps they even sensed that he could take care of
himself, because while in their home they had never really
disciplined him--of course, he had never given them cause. He had
been a good guest in their home. But all of that ended.
This woman was the link to his future. He could already
feel the bond between them, the bond of blood. He touched her
mind with his own, willing her own Jedi abilities into the healing
of her body. She stirred and turned her head, and looked at him,
her eyes widening. Blue-green, like the dark stones that his father
had once mined, cut and made into a gift for his mother, the only
thing he had left of his adopted parents. He had mourned them, but
that too seemed behind him. All there was before him was the
future.
He touched her heart, and Vaiya took in a heavy breath of
air as her lungs cleared. With a few more proddings of the Force,
her body's natural painkillers kicked in and within a few minutes
she was able to sit up.
From behind them, badly shaken and his mind locked away
from them, came Larin. He gripped the white-bladed lightsaber in
his hand aimlessly, as if he had forgotten that it was there. But as
he came near Vaiya, he shoved his disturbance away and reached
out to her, kneeling down and taking her hand in his own.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice raw although he
did not know why.
Vaiya glanced at Valery, who smiled as he reached around
her back, his small fingers on her shoulders. "I will be," she said,
the pain blanketed under his healing ministrations. She could feel
her body excelerating its own healing process, the blood filtering
out, her insides no longer in danger of rupture, the ache in her
bones subsiding. He worked fast for a little thing, she thought, and
smiled at him. She was upright, and was now working at getting
her legs under her to stand. Larin helped her, letting him lean
heavily on him. She staggered a bit, but quickly grabbed for
Valery's shoulder, which was right beside her.
"Shall we get out of here?" Vaiya suggested.
"Perhaps we should," Larin said, sparing a glance behind
him at where Cal and the cult lay dead. "But I have a feeling that
we should destroy this place."
Valery's big grey eyes went to him. Larin was shaking
slightly--he stepped forward to offer his services, but Larin shook
his head. "I just don't think I could live the rest of my life knowing
that this place still exists."
Vaiya nodded slowly. "My family isn't known for leaving
enemy strongholds in one piece," she said with a wry grin,
glancing down at Valery. Then she sighed and said, "We should at
least give everyone a chance to evacuate, first." She stepped away
from them, still unsteady, but Larin held her back.
"Let me," he said. He strode over to the small control panel,
and within a few minutes the alarms were sounding. He glanced
up, the red light reflecting errily on his face, the sirens as horrible
as the dying shrieks of the cult brothers.
Valery tugged her hand. "Let's go!" he said, and Larin was
beside them again.
"Can you run?" he asked her.
"I can move fast enough," Vaiya said, but her tone was
unsure. In reply, Larin picked her up, his hand under her knees and
around her shoulders. "I said I can walk!" she protested, sounding
like her mother.
"No time to find out," he replied, sounding like her father.
With Valery close beside them, the scurried out of the throne
room, headed for their ship.

When it blew, it was strangely anti-climactic, but all three
felt a strange sort of release, like something very bad had died on
that station, even though everyone left on it had been already dead.
The strength of the dark side, which had pressed at them from the
first minute they'd ever entered the station, diminished. Larin
paced the window, his fingers running idly along the thin metal
sill. Vaiya lay on the only bunk in the small shuttle, her head
turned to watch but turning away to face the wall as Cal's great
fortress was blown into oblivion. She sighed, and within a few
minutes she was dozing lightly. She would be fine in a few hours,
Valery had told him. As if nothing had ever happened--physically.
And then those grey eyes had regarded him, saw right through him,
knew that yet again Larin was going to leave him. It mattered little
to his childish heart that this was the only time he *should* have
left, to think and to pray and to heal himself. He was using every
ounce of his power just to keep upright. The withdrawl from the
drug Cal had forced upon him, the emotional trauma of recent
events...he was ready to crack. He needed time.
Valery turned away from them and stormed out into the
hallway, feeling uncharacteristically angry. He stode all the way to
the cockpit and threw himself down into one of the chairs behind
the pilot's seat. There he crossed his arms and sulked...but not for
long. He could feel her, beside him, then move to sit in front of
him, her long, rope-like hair snaking over her shoulder and falling
before her, her eyes smiling at him.
"What is wrong, my son?" she whispered.
Valery shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he
said.
Callista smiled. "I understand. You don't have to tell me,
you know. I can see that you're having a hard time letting go of
your own life. You're so very young, Valery, to be able to take
this much. You're entitled to a bit of anger."
Valery's eyes gentled at the mention of the word. "But
anger is of the dark side," he whispered.
Callista shrugged. "Yes, it is. But it is a natural, human
emotion. You have been asked to give up all of your old family,
my son. It has been revealed to you that they were never yours in
the first place. Now you are going into a nest of strangers. You
cannot help feeling anger, or fear. But as long as you do not give
into those and let them rule you, the dark side has no power over
you."
Valery nodded, his eyes growing sad. "Are you going to
leave me, too?"
Callista smiled at him again, that loving, motherly smile
she always gave him whenever he questioned her coming or going.
"I will always be with you, Valery Ben Skywalker," she whispered.
"You may not see me, but I will be there. I am not one of Vaiya's
angels, so I cannot remain here for long. I was sent back only for
you, until you found your place." She reached out, and although
her spirit-like form was not solid, her fingers caressed his thick
hair. It felt like a soft, warm breeze to his skin. "Yejion has a
special place for you, Valery. You have been prepared for it since
your birth. This is only a continuation of that preparation, not an
ending or a beginning." She looked very sad for a moment. "I wish
you could always see me, but when we land on Durran, I will have
to leave your sight. But remember, my heart, that I will always be
watching you, and listening for you. No matter where you are, I
promise that."
Valery nodded. He wished for the first time that he could
hug the spirit of his mother, but had found out very early that that
was not possible. Tears formed in his eyes, and she caressed him
again with that warm breeze.
"Do not cry," she gently encouraged him. "Where you are
going is a wonderful place. You will have a father...and a mother
that you can hug. And Mara will love you, Valery. As surely as she
loves her own daughter. She's been looking for you for a very long
time. When you feel their joy, all doubt will be erased from your
heart."
The words made his face brighten. "I love you, Mother," he
whispered.
"I love you," she replied, and then, slowly, she disappeared,
only her eyes remaining for a brief while longer before they, too,
faded away.

Vaiya carefully made her way down the ramp. It was night
on Durran, but she knew her parents were awake. The scanners on
the shuttle had directed them back to the inn where her parents
were staying, and there was a great party going on--probably some
offical function, or a service of the inn, she decided. There had
been a great bonfire burning, which gave a great light into the sky.
They had landed a safe distance away, not wanting to crash the
party but keeping close enough so she could walk it.
She was feeling remarkably good for having suffered from
electrocution. She briefly considered being checked out in a local
medbay, but dismissed it as Valery came up beside her, his arm
around her waist.
"Take it easy, Vaiya," he said, his young voice sounding
old and wise. She smiled at him.
Larin followed, almost hesitant. When Vaiya reached the
ground, he hurried up to catch her, his hands reaching for her,
pulling her close.
"Are you still going to be okay?" he asked anxiously. He
didn't want to leave her. As he looked at her, he began to doubt
everything he had felt, began to doubt that the last several hours
had even happened. All that mattered to her at this moment was
him.
But somehow she had gotten that same calm look on her
face as Valery had when they landed, that understanding gaze that
made some of his shame abate. She touched his cheek, her fingers
curling slighty into his hair. "I will be fine," she said, accenting
each word gently. "Trust me."
Larin shook his head. "I know that," he said. He looked
down, torn. He knew he had to leave again...."When I come back,"
he said, lifting his face to hers, "I promise I will never leave
again."
She shook her head. "You can't promise that, Larin. But I
understand that you have to go. I have to go, too. I have to go back
to Yavin IV. There are many Jedi who need to learn what I have
learned. Until there are others who can do it better than me, I am
obligated to teach what I know. And you know you couldn't come
with me to Yavin IV. So if it makes you feel any better," she said
with a serene smile, "I'm leaving you, too."
He nodded. "I won't forget," he whispered, "I won't forget
what I promised you."
"You won't have worry about forgetting," she reassured
him. The compassion in her eyes reached out to him, and he
realized that just being with her had done much to start his healing
process. But there was so much for her to do...once again, they
were being broken apart. Before it had led him to nothing but
trouble. This time, he would not be so foolish. Besides, Cal was
dead...there was little danger to him now. The battle was over.
Her face grew solemn, and he looked back at her, feeling it.
"There is always danger," she whispered. "We are always fighting
the evil in ourselves, our own dark sides. It doesn't matter if you're
a Jedi Knight, a Master, or just an ordinary human being. This
battle doesn't end, Larin. We are always fighting it. We can all fall,
but we can get back up again." She put her arms around his
shoulders, pulling him closer.
"We can only fight the good fight," he whispered. "Even if
we don't win."
"We will win, but not on our own." She smiled. "Don't be
afraid, Larin. Fear is useless. Nothing can harm you if you do not
give it the power. What you need is trust."
He took a deep breath and nodded, then shut his eyes,
feeling her presence beside him, holding her close. She hugged
him, getting even closer to him if that was possible. Her hair,
tendrils of thick, spiraling honey, brushed his cheek, and he ran his
hand across it, caressing it. He squeezed her hard, almost willing
the two of them to fuse together into one body...but all too soon it
passed, and he let her go as she pulled away.
They stared at each other for a long moment, their hands
locked together. He leaned forward, and his lips brushed hers, then
paused, and she returned the kiss. They didn't know how long it
lasted...only when Valery cleared his throat did they break apart.
"Soon," he promised, the only word he could say. He
backed away, then slowly turned up the ramp, his back to them. He
knew that if he looked back, he would not be able to leave.
As the ship lifted off the ground, he could feel Vaiya's
presence inside his mind. He could feel her love, as if it were a
tangible thing. He sighed. It would not be long, he promised
himself. His return would come very soon.
Inside, he felt something stirr, a soundless voice reassuring
him that he was right, that he should not give up, that he was doing
the right thing. It said, *The path to true happiness is victory over
your own passions.* He remembered hearing that once, when he
was just a boy. He glanced out the cockpit window, but by now
Vaiya and Valery were too far way.
*But how soon?* he asked the soundless voice.
*All times are soon,* the voice replied. And Larin felt his
heart grow light.

21--Child of Skywalker

Mara had learned, as she got older, that there were fewer
things in this galaxy that she could explain, much less understand.
Word had gotten around about the possibility of Durran opening
up again to offworlders, and at this particular inn, they were
celebrating the lifting of the ban that had just gone through the
Durranian government. It was experimental, they said, but with the
new order of Jedi Knights firmly rooted in Durranian history, they
felt safe. Palpatine, as they learned, was long since dead, and they
even looked upon Mara and Luke in a sort of awe, as if they were
not human beings but angels in disguise.
She had to smile at that. Angels were usually angelic.
Vaiya's brief description of them did not match the image she saw
in the mirror. She had been brought new clothes by the tennants of
the inn, a welcoming gift. The place had thrown a big banquet, and
had made a roaring bonfire. When the strange light had appeared
in the sky, they rejoiced in the belief that it was a sign. Mara felt
her heart stiffen at the sight, knowing it was the end of their battle.
For the time being, anyway.
She sighed and shut her eyes. She had come so far, had
faced so much. But life was always full of problems, difficulties,
trials. She knew her self-confrontation would never end--it would
always be there, as long as she existed. The feeling that the worst
was yet to come tingled in the back of her mind, but she pushed it
back. Worry was useless. She had learned that some time ago.
Now she was determined to practice it.
Luke came up behind her, silently, to where she stood on
the long, wooden balcony that lined the back of the inn. The
bonfire wasn't too far away, its golden light illuminating all those
around it who laughed and drank and talked. But Luke and Mara
were safely hidden in the shadows of the large trees that draped
over the rail. She let him touch her mind, relishing the feel of his
comforting presence. His hands went around her waist and pulled
her tightly to him. Twenty years together had taught him well. He
knew exactly how to handle her.
"Vaiya is okay," he whispered.
"I know," she said, her voice strangely hollow. "I felt it."
Luke nodded, then slowly buried his face in her hair, letting
his breath flow over her. "You know, there isn't much difference,"
he said.
"In what?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.
"You now and you twenty years ago." She felt him grin.
"There are differences," she murmured. She glanced down
at her hands. They had gotten smoother with her new youth. And
she felt lighter, not so heavily muscled from her smuggling
experiences. They had no idea how permanent the changes were,
only that they could not be changed back.
"When we get home, we can put some more time into
figuring out exactly what happened to us," Luke said
conversationally, his eyes lifting up to the dissipating debris of
Cal's space station. "And find out if there are going to be any
sideaffects."
Mara scowled slightly. Luke felt it and looked at her,
willing her to turn and face him. She did so, only half way, the
moon light sillouetting the other half of her face. "It was the dark
side that did this, Luke," she said, troubled. "I don't understand
how we could have been bathed in that and not felt it already."
Luke shrugged. "You know, a lot of things I've encountered
on other worlds that most people see as being magical, or even
caused by the Force, turn out to simply be chemical reactions. I'm
sure the brotherhood wouldn't succeed in a change this radical
unless it was based in something scientific."
Mara sighed. "I guess so. I'll have Drianna look into it. She
loves doing that kind of research."
"Actually," Luke cleared his throat, "Drianna and Derrin
are going to go to Coruscant. They're Jedi now, Mara. They're
going to help with some of the Durranian negotiations because
they've been here."
Mara frowned. "What about us?"
"We're going back to Yavin," and then he stalled, realizing
that he was giving Mara orders, making her decisions for her,
something she couldn't *stand.* "Well I was hoping we would,
anyway," he added quickly. "I mean, with Vaiya."
"If she comes back."
Luke took Mara's face in his hands. "Mar," he whispered,
his forehead resting against hers, "you know she's coming back.
You know she survived whatever Cal tried to do to her."
Mara nodded, her hands covering Luke's. "But she's not just
a Jedi Knight," she reminded him. "She's a Master, with a will of
her own. She may not want to stay on Yavin IV."
Luke cast his eyes aside, as if looking into the distance
behind her. "Not for long, no. She'll have to move on. But for the
time being, she's going to come with us."
"How do you know?"
"I felt it."
"Strange that I did not." His hand dropped from her face to
her slender neck. She frowned, a little harder. "This de-aging
thing...do you think it would decrease our Force sensitivity?"
It was Luke's turn to frown. "Are you saying you can't feel
her at all?"
"No...it's just....I don't know. All I'm getting in some kind of
overwhelming saddness." She shrugged. That had to be what was
bringing her down. "Like Vaiya had to part with something."
Luke nodded. "I feel one thing, you feel another. I know I
didn't feel any deep saddness. Who can say who's closer to who? I
know one thing, though."
She glanced up at him, a slow smile creeping onto her face.
His mind was playful now, his lips beginning a grin. "What?" she
whispered.
"I'm glad I'm this close to you."
Her eyes brightened, and the smile crossed her face. "Damn
you, Skywalker," she nearly giggled. "I don't know why you're
sappy, romantic farmboy routine always--"
He kissed her. It made her feel young.

Vaiya saw her parents standing close together, trying to
melt into the shadows but unable to hide from their own daughter.
Her grip on the small hand in hers tightened, and she looked down,
the distant firelight catching against her eyes.
Valery smiled up at her, silent. Neither of them dared to
speak. This moment had been coming for nearly twenty years, and
it no words could possibly fit it.
Mara was the first one to sense her, pulling slightly away
from Luke to look over his shoulder. Luke followed suit, and they
took a step apart, but their hands stayed latched together. First
there was relief and pride as Vaiya approached from the path, her
hair floating around her reflecting the light, her steps confident,
unafraid, embodying everything a Jedi Master should be.
There was a dip onto the main platform, which she took
without hesitation. Then she abruptly turned and reached for
something following her in the shadows.
It was a young boy. Nine, maybe ten. Their relief turned to
puzzlement as Vaiya took the boy's hand in hers, and began to lead
him across to her parents.
She glanced to one side, feeling the familiar presences of
both Drianna and Derrin, who nodded at her, respectfully silent as
their eyes landed on the boy. They senses what this was. The entire
place had to send it. It was as if something cosmically important
were going to happen, some historical moment that would be the
beginning of an entirely new age.
Luke and Mara's puzzlement turned to confusion as Vaiya
got closer, the boy just behind her in step. Then, as he neared
them, their eyes widened and Luke stepped forward, Mara put her
hands against her cheeks in astonishment, nearly reeling back from
the shock.
Vaiya stopped before them, taking a breath. She looked
down at Valery. "Valery Ben Skywalker," she said, her eyes full of
laughter, "this is our father, Luke Skywalker."
The boy stepped closer to Luke, his grey eyes gigantic with
joy. His young face was serene and beautiful as it glowed with his
emotions. Luke dropped to one knee and pulled him into his arms
without hesitation.
Vaiya stole a glance at Mara. Tears of joy streaked heavily
down her cheeks--something she never experienced. Her face was
like the stain glass windows of the First Temple lit by the sun. Her
eyes glowed a brighter green than had ever been seen by anyone--
save Luke--and her lungs forgot to breathe. The boy, Valery,
looked at her, and gently pulled away from his father to step to her
and embrace her, which she accepted with no hesitation. She shut
her eyes as she hugged him tightly, the relief, the feeling of
wholeness enveloping her.
Gently, she pulled him back to look into his eyes. Callista's
eyes, Luke's delicate features, and Leia's thick, dark hair. She
found herself laughing, not sure why but not knowing why not.
"We've spent a long time looking for you," she managed.
He nodded. "I know. But I'm here now."
Then Valery turned back to Vaiya, but Vaiya was not
watching them anymore. The other Jedi, Derrin, had approched
her, with Drianna close behind. Derrin's hand was on Vaiya's
shoulder, a comforting guesture, a welcoming guesture.
"Where is Larin?" Drianna asked.
Vaiya smiled and turned away, her eyes going up into the
night sky. She was thinking about a hundred things--about Larin,
about her future as a Jedi Master. She was thinking of how blessed
she had been, that Yejion had made her so victorious in spite of
her weakness, had even sent her His own angels to aid her. She
even thought about Seth, and had to push away the pressing
mystery of how their lives had touched the way they did, how
maybe if things had been different...but he, too, had had to leave.
One dark shadow fell over her heart. She felt very much
alone. Larin was not gone for good, but he was not here now.
Without him, she felt empty, and it disturbed her. She had so
much--why should just one person matter so much?
Valery stepped forward and threw his arms around her
waist. She jumped and looked down at him startled. He grinned up
at her.
"You've got me," he said.
She began to smile, and then laugh. "Yes," she said,
brushing his hair back from his face. "I do." And she found that she
knew the answer to her own question. Even though they were not
blood, Vaiya could see Larin in Valery's eyes. They were bound
together--their destinies were entwined. One way or another, she
would see him again.
There was nothing else to do but live one day at a
time....and wait.

22--One Year Later

The hot jungle of Yavin had never been Mara's favorite
place. She was a city girl. She had lived her entire life in
Coruscant, and she had liked all the luxuries that provided. But out
here, Valery seemed to thrive and grow, his strengths opening up
as the life around him hummed and droned from the jungle. Valery
liked it--in fact, he loved it. He seemed to have a passion for
tramping the jungle trails, looking for animals, usually finding
them, especially the ones that were injured. They never tried to
bite him. It was as if they knew him, and he treated them as
carefully as if they were every bit a human as he.
The Skywalkers had discovered quickly his ability to heal--
even without Vaiya's tale, they would have seen it right away.
Even the other Jedi apprentices came to him with physical
ailments, and usually it was Mara who had to chase them away.
The boy would give until he dropped, and they needed to learn
self-reliance. And some pain endurance.
Mara watched Valery practicing his telekinetic abilities on
some nearby rocks. Nearby, Vaiya sat and watched. While she was
not his teacher, she was more skilled in her telekinetic abilities
than most. Luke and Mara had agreed that Mara would be Valery's
official teacher, but that he would learn what he needed to when
he needed to learn it. Luke worked on Valery's mental abilities,
and tried to hone his senses to feel out situations, gain insight from
the Force. Mara took a more spiritual responsibility for him,
teaching him to walk, talk, and act like a Jedi Knight. Irony was
heavy in the air around their home. She found herself saying many
things to him that Luke had said to her so long ago and had nearly
driven her nuts with repeated saying.
The rocks dropped, the loud heavy thuds sounding like
giant raindrops on the soft ground of Yavin IV. Valery was
panting, and he looked at Vaiya.
"Okay, ten minutes," he said. "Now can I?"
Vaiya nodded. "Just don't cut your head off!" she warned as
he raced off.
Mara grinned. Valery was coming up the stairway toward
her, into their home. He smiled at Mara. "Vaiya said I could try
Mother's lightsaber," he said.
Mara nodded. "Just be careful," she warned.
Vaiya stood up from where she was on the ground, and
quickly looked around her. Then she glanced up at Mara. "Watch
him for a minute, will you? I think I left my cape and saber out
with Derrin this morning."
Mara grinned. "Your saber, too? Now that's fine behavior
for a Jedi Master."
Vaiya gave her mother a slightly scathing look, but it was
amused. She scampered off through the trees, then out the other
side into the wide field where Derrin had taken his class. He hated
teaching in the enclosed temple--he had to be outside, where it was
open. And they always picked the best spot--right where the ships
from the port could be seen coming and going.
"Mom?" Mara turned to see Valery holding Callista's
lightsaber in both hands. He was eleven years old now, but he still
had the smallest hands. Probably from Skywalker's side, Mara
thought. She smiled and bent down.
"Do you know how to activate it safely?" she asked.
He nodded, and then his young face grew wary as he
looked at her. "It just feels funny," he said.
"What does?" A small alarm went off in the back of Mara's
head. "The lightsaber? Let me see--"
"No," the boy shook his head. Mara watched him closely,
feeling his emotions. He was probing her mind, searching for
something, some sort of reassurance. She sent him her love--she
could not have loved him more if he had been her own son.
"Then what?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "Actually, it doesn't feel funny. That's what
feels funny." He giggled at the paradox.
Mara frowned slightly, an amused grin rising to her lips.
Sometimes the boy was just like his father---"What?" she asked
again.
"Calling you Mom." He shook his head. "I can't remember
when I called you anything else. Isn't that funny?"
Mara smiled, stroking his hair. "I can't remember it, either,"
she said reassuringly. "And I don't want to."
Valery smiled at her, his boyish smile that had probably
come from his mother. He lowered the lightsaber and carefully
aimed it away from them. Under Mara's watchful eye, he activated
it, and the bright yellow beam lit up the room like the rising sun.

Vaiya reached the place where Derrin had taken his small
band of students. He felt her as she approached and turned,
greeting her with his old grin--the one that had once made her
heart flutter. She found she liked Derrin better now that she wasn't
infatuated with him, but it mattered to her very little what he
thought of her in return.
"Master Vaiya," he said, giving a slightly, respectful vow.
"Perhaps you could help us. We seem to be having a bit of a
problem."
"What is it?" she asked, picking up her lightsaber, which
sat a few feet away from the group, and latching it onto her belt.
"Master Vaiya," one of the female students began, "we
don't understand why emotions are so bad. Fear and anger are
natural. The Force comes from nature. We can't help but
experience them!"
Vaiya smiled. "What goes into us cannot ever harm us," she
began, "even fear and anger. We see them, we acknowledge them,
and then we dismiss them. You are right, they are not evil
emotions, and as sentient beings we have them. But what comes
out of us, that is what can harm us. If we act in fear or anger, then
they become dangerous. They take the focus away from where it
should be and onto ourselves and our own ends, which might not
be evil but are tainted with our human imperfection. This leaves us
open to be controlled by others, because we have harmed ourselves
and made our wills weak with self-indulgence and pride.
Remember this--as long as you are alive, as long as you are still
breathing, never let anyone control you. No one has any power
over you unless you give it to them. Listen only to God. Do not
listen even to yourselves."
"But what god?" another student demanded. "And if we
can't trust ourselves, then who can we trust?"
"As for your first question," Vaiya returned calmly, "there
has been much debate over this new view of the Force, and I do
not claim to be able to understand all aspects of it. I know that
there is only one God, but He has many names. Every culture
knows Him, as He has made the world and all in it, most especially
the Force. You must search for Him, or Her, or whatever is in your
culture. I promise you, it is there. The Jedi have managed to
survive because they remembered the Will of the Force, which
merely God's Will detatched from its source. They hung fast to the
creed of putting selflessness over selfishness, and it was only by
this that they endured for as long. But without a center, without the
right focus, they grew arrogant and fell. We are the new order. We
have to be examples. At the very least, if we wish to serve the
galaxy, we must understand it. Every culture believes in a God of
some sort. And what better way is there to understand sentient
beings than knowing what they believe in? Religion is the answer
to life, it's what gives it meaning. But I promise that if you search
with an open heart, you will find what you are looking for."
She took a deep breath and added, "All that is needed for
salvation is a willing and repentant heart. All else is done for us."
Derrin stared at her for a moment. "Where did that come
from?" he asked softly.
Vaiya shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt the need to say it."
Derrin smiled at her as he bent over to pick up her cloak.
"So sayeth the prophet Vaiya," he said in a low voice. He glanced
at his students, who were silently muddling over Vaiya's words. He
pulled the cloak open to set it on her shoulders.
Abruptly, Vaiya's face fell from the gentle amusement to
surprise. She turned around, and Derrin froze in his motion,
holding out the cloak before him with both hands stopped in mid
air. There was a ship landing on the dock. It was a small ship, and
it landed close to the edge. The lone occupant appeared in
seconds, a familiar head of thick, brownish-blond curls billowing
in the heavy jungle breeze.
Vaiya took three steps forward, and then broke into a dead
run.

Luke came out of his study, feeling the disturbance in the
Force. Mara and Valery were at the window, watching calmly.
Mara turned her head to look at Luke. "Our son in law is back,"
she said, guesturing for Luke to join them. He did, his arm going
around Mara's shoulder.
"Can you feel it?" she whispered.
Luke nodded. It was a tangible sensation, rolling across the
wide clearing of the jungle, nearly a shout in their ears. Vaiya's joy
radiated from her, as far away as she was. Her hair blew behind
her like a comet tail, her feet barely touching the ground.
The figure she was running for was struggling to get down
from the landing bay. A long set of winding stairs etched into the
low mountainside would have made his journey faster if there
hadn't been people on it getting in his way. He finally tired of the
slow pace and lept over the rail, his feet sliding a bit on the
gravelly rock as his hood came up and covered his head again.
Then he lept his way down the hill, his arms spread out to give him
balance. His hood fell away again, and Mara and Luke realized
that it was not just Vaiya's joy that they were feeling. Not even her
powers could affect the entire academy. It seemed that everything
froze around that moment, and finally, Vaiya reached him.
The force of impact was so great that he had to lift her up
slightly, but he held her close, not letting her go, catching them
both with the Force. Long seconds passed as they felt each others
presence, knowing that the last year had finally ended, and that the
rest of their lives had begun.
Vaiya pulled away first. He smiled at her, his face never
seeming so beautiful. She beamed back.
"Welcome home, my love," she whispered.
"I thought I'd never get here," he sighed. Then he paused.
"So when are you going to marry me?"
If it was possible, her smile widened
"Whenever you say."
He paused, and then his face changed as if he'd just
remembered something. "But...how can you marry me? I don't
have anything to give you. I don't even have my last name."
She looked at him very solemnly, and whispered, "Then I'll
give you mine."

The wedding took place within a few months at the First
Temple. It was the first time a big assembly had been invited to the
planet, and the Durranians used the opportunity to strengthen their
desire to become a part of the New Republic. They even footed the
bill, and Luke and Mara had to take special care in inviting the
right delegates--then Mara, who usually sneered at the idea of
impressing people, passed the job onto Leia. In spite of her heavy
duties, the former Princess took the burden happily.
The hall was full. Luke stood not too far away from the
door to Vaiya's changing room. He was dressed in a midnight blue
suit made of the thin Durranian velvet, the style similiar to the old
white Jedi tunics that Obi-Wan had worn. Mara slipped out the
door and approached him, wearing a sleeveless dress made of teal
green material, with velvet patterns embossed on it.
"Makes we want to do this all over again," he sighed as he
took her hand.
"Just hold on, Farmboy," she said with a wink. "You know,
we never did finish that honeymoon, either."
He grinned at her, remembering. "That was a crazy night,
wasn't it?"
She nodded. "But we managed to get the best part before it
ended." She kissed him lightly. "See you at the altar." And she
strode away, the floor-length skirt of the dress swishing around her
legs.
Luke watched her go--it helped that the back of the dress
was cut low to hang at her waist. She threw him a glance of pure
mischief and then focused her attention on the people around her
who greeted her from their seats. He sighed and shook his head.
Thank God Mara would never change--young or old, it didn't
matter. She was still Mara.
The door opened again, and Luke was taken back by a new
vision. Vaiya appeared, dressed in glimmering fabric that looked
like liquid gold. Her arms and shoulders were covered with a layer
of tiny golden feathers, and the feathers spread down her back,
getting larger as they descended into a great train that stretched out
a few feet behind her. The rest of the dress was a soft white,
gathering modestly at her chest and flowing down her legs in
heavy folds of satin embossed with a pattern of more miniature
feathers and pearls set in gold.
"You don't think it's too much, do you?" she asked, raising
an eyebrow.
"It's beautiful," Luke murmured. "But it looks heavy."
"It isn't, really. Gold is actually pretty light." She shifted. "It
feels really comfortable, actually, but I'm afraid that it's a
bit....flashy."
Luke smiled at her. "You look beautiful." He pushed a thin
tendril of her hair back into the crown she wore on her head, a
wreath of the same golden leaves, studded with small irridescent
gems that caught the light. Her hair spilled around the crown to
fall against her shoulders. The side tendrils had been woven into
ornate braids and had been tied off with a few pearls and golden
beads.
She sighed, relief flooding her face. "I feel beautiful," she
said softly.
"You are beautiful." Luke felt himself fighting the sudden
impulse to cry. This was his little girl--little no longer, ready to
leave him and start her own life. Even though she had grown
up a long time ago, even left them and found her own path, he still
felt like he was loosing her all over again.
She touched his arm. "Come on, Daddy," she said. "The
party is starting. We can't be late."
"Don't worry about it," he said, taking her arm in his. "They
won't start until we get there, anyway."

He led her down the aisle and gave her hand over to Larin,
who was dressed in a fine linen suit, covered with a thick grey robe
of velvet that was embroidered with the same pearls and golden
leaf as Vaiya's around the sleeves and shoulders. They barely
looked around them as they spoke their vows and the ceremony
commensed. When they kissed, Luke felt Mara's hand reach for his
own. He looked at her, and she smiled with sympathy.
*My little girl is not a Skywalker anymore,* he sent to her.
Then, distinctly, he felt Vaiya reply as she and Larin turned
to head back down the aisle, *I'll always be a Skywalker,* and
smiled at them as she strode away, Larin's hand in her own.
Mara stood up and put her arms around Luke's neck. "Was
there ever any doubt?" she whispered.
Luke gave a short chuckle and glanced down at Valery,
who was chasing after the happy couple. "I guess not. Once a
Skywalker...always a Skywalker."

She had left him. Now he was alone. He had been alone for
some time, but he was feeling it more intensely now than before.
Like something had happened to her, like she had done something
to irrevocably cut herself off from him. But he knew...she loved
another. How much she loved him, only she knew. What she felt
for himself, only she knew. All he knew was his own emotions.
They made no sense to him.
His small craft had landed on the desert floor in the middle
of the great desert. From where he stood at the top of the landing
ramp, with his binoculars he could see the very tip of the great
temple. He had not looked upon it in some time.
What was he doing here?
He shook his head silently as he lowered the binoculars,
and made his way down the ramp. This felt familiar, yet somehow
was different--his red and black face had lost its sharp edges. The
fierceness of the mask was gone, drained from him. Maybe that
was from his listless wanderings around the outer rim, or maybe it
was his loss weighing heavily upon him. His eyes were not even
the bright yellow-green anymore. They had darkened, slowly at
first, then deepened into a rich shade of green. The change might
have alarmed him otherwise, but in his current state, he merely
accepted it as inevitable.
The cult was dead. He had felt them die, one at a time.
Even now, their death shrieks were faint echoes in the back of his
mind. He learned to ignore them, knowing they would go away. A
year did not seem so long now. It felt like only yesterday he had
been freed. Or abandoned. He could take his pick.
But something pulled him here. Not the fact that she would
be here soon--he didn't know why he knew that, he just did. Here
to make a home for herself, to have a husband, to have his children
and be a teacher, as she was meant to be. It had nothing to do with
her, and at the same time, everything. She had shown him hope.
For a long time, he had thought her to be his hope, but now he had
a suspicion that she had only been a shadow of that hope. There
was something bigger, something greater awaiting him. As
abandoned as he might be now, there was a path for him to follow.
He just had to find it.
The desert sands shifted under his heavy black-booted feet
as he walked. He wasn't sure what direction he was going in--he let
his instincts guide him. Soon, he came to what looked like a giant
stone, sticking up out of the desert floor. It was like a lop-sided
pyramid, and there was a low door at its base. He pressed at the
door, but it didn't budge. He felt at the sides, but there was no
control. He backed up, examining it closely. The last rays of the
day were quickly slipping into the horizon, and his vision was
distorted by the tricks the phantom light was playing on his eyes.
Then he heard a sound.
He turned to see someone come around the corner of the
giant stone, wrapped in a thick brown robe. The figure stopped and
lifted his head. Green eyes met his, a different shade--like
emeralds, sharp and bright. A closer inspection told him that the
man was rather old, but in good shape. Hairless and wrinkled, but
well-built and quite able to move. The old man approached him
with caution.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice just a touch sharp. His
reply was a flinch from his strange guest. His cloak hid his face,
aided by the evening shadows. But once the old man saw it, he
would surely reject him.
"My name is Seth," he said.
The old man nodded. "Darth Seth?" he said, a lilting sound
at the end giving the statement the feel of a question.
"I was Darth Seth. Now I am just Seth."
"And what are you?"
"I don't know." He raised his head, and showed the old man
part of his face, the red and black marking shifting on his skin as
he willed them back, as he willed the old man to see him as Vaiya
had seen him, without the mask.
The old man nodded. "That's what I like to hear. Come on
inside." He shuffled to the door, and it slid open with barely any
effort on his part. "Watch out...it's a bit of a drop." And he hunched
down and slid into the darkness.
Seth followed, easily catching himself on the stone floor
fifteen feet below the surface of the sand. He looked around, his
eyes straining to adjust but failing. There was something about this
place, something that knew him. Something that made him feel
excited and humble and terrified and joyful all at once. Then the
old man lit a torch and got a full look at his visitor.
"Uh huh," he grunted, and Seth swore he saw a look of
approval on the man's face. Perhaps this man did see him as Vaiya
did. Then the old man smiled. "My name is Valeris. I think I've
been expecting you."


Epilogue--Holocron

It was well past the midnight hour, and the hologram had
grown bright in the darkening shadows. Callista felt stiff all over
from being hunched over it, and as she tried to move, Dayved
reached out to her and began to massage her shoulders.
Although the figure was just a hologram, they could not
image the real Vaiya Jade Skywalker being any more real as her
shoulders slumped, as if she were exhausted from telling her tale.
She looked up at the young Jedi students and smiled.
"So it ends," she said. "And it begins again."
"There's more?" Callista ventured. She wanted to hear, but
she had been listening to this thing all day. She was tired and
hungry and wanted to go home. She glanced at Dayved, feeling
very tender emotions for him as he gazed down at her. The story
had awoken some things in him, and the fact that they were true
made the whole tale even more bittersweet.
"There is always more," the hologram of Vaiya said. "There
is a whole lifetime of more. But this tale ends here. And my father
has not yet had a chance to speak to you."
She disappeared, and in a split second a fourth image
appeared. This one was dressed in a gray Jedi robe, hood up over
his eyes, which even in the downsized image of the holocron they
could see were a familiar blue.
"Greetings, Jedi-to-be," he said, pushing the hood back. "I
am Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master and father to Master Vaiya."
They felt the terrible impulse to kneel. "Master
Skywalker," Dayved managed over his dried throat.
The image nodded. "I come bearing one message. The
Skywalkers have always faced great trials, and have been known
throughout history to fall to the dark side. When I was a young
man and training to become a Jedi, my Master told me that once
you started down the dark side, it would dominate your destiny
forever. This is true, but it is not hopeless. We have risen up again
and defeated the dark side because we have hung fast to one
unchanging truth--the only power anything has over you is what
you give it--for good or evil."
He paused, and the two listeners stared at him. "But Master
Skywalker, what does this mean?" Callista ventured.
Luke Skywalker smiled. "It means that there is no destiny
except the one you choose. And you are always free to choose. But
only when you give yourself to the right path, the path of light, or
the path of Yejion, which my daughter chose for us, do you
become truly powerful. Only in becoming weak do you become
strong, only in sacrificing yourself do you find yourself."
"He sounds like the priests," Dayved muttered.
The image smiled. "Perhaps I do. I thought that Vaiya
would be the teacher, but the burden fell to me. And I will teach
you things about the Force, things you may never have learned.
The wheel is always turning, the pendelum of the Force is always
in swing. It will come back around again."
With that, he faded. Callista and Dayved exchanged
glances, their energy levels suddenly high. But with a firm squeeze
on Vaiya's shoulder, Dayved took the holocron from her.
"Tomorrow," he said. "There is always tomorrow."
She nodded. There would always be tomorrow.
And so it went on.

END.

Want more? check out http://members.tripod.com/~LMS_/index.htm
for the sequel to Mosaic, called Masks, and an interlude story,
entitled Mosaic: The Mask of Maul. Let me know what you think!