Title: Masque of the Blue Death.
Author: Shellyfett
Summary: The Jedi discover Halloween, and an
uninvited visitor.

-----------
-insert standard disclaimer crap here. 
Kiraan and the gang are mine, the rest is Darth
George's.
-----------

Zek frowned at his reflection, then sighed, reaching
for his contacts. Ariel leaned over his
shoulder, watching him silently. “What *are* you
doing?” she asked. Zek nearly smacked into her as he
jumped in surprise. He sighed in relief, “Don’t EVER
do that to me,” he growled. The Jedi just
mock-pouted, a slight smirk tingeing her face as she
studied him. One brown eye, one green eye, and a
extension-enhanced ponytail. “Playing at being Zekk?
Or is this another bizarre Earthan ritual like your
Sci-Fi convention?” she teased. Zek glared, turning
away and back to the mirror. 
“It’s called Halloween. Kids dress up in costumes
and go from door-to-door saying ‘Trick or
treat’, and we give them candy. There’s not too many
kids around here, so we’re going to a Halloween
party at a friend’s house. Everyone is supposed to
come dressed as their favorite fictional character.” 
He
popped the other green contact lens in, then turned to
face her. “And your favorite is Zekk?” she asked,
half-snickering. Zek sighed, “No, not if you paid
Darth Maul to run him through a leaf-shredder
face-first,” he growled. 
Ariel frowned. Zek reached for a hair-clip, hooking
it around the ponytail’s band. He turned,
giving her a ‘Who am I?’ shrug. She shook her head,
not getting it. Zek sighed, walking over to the
closet. He slid open the door, gesturing with a bow
at the costume hanging there. Ariel spat out a curse,
narrowing her eyes viciously. “You are not serious,”
she snarled. Zek grinned. “Always been a fan of the
bad guys. Besides, Exar Kun was one good-looking
badass, like Antonio Banderas from Desperado with a
lightsaber.”
Ariel shuddered, walking toward the door. “You
people are strange. The sooner we find a way
home, the happier I’ll be.” Zek chuckled, closing the
closet door as Aliya appeared in the doorway. 
“Lemme guess, you showed her the costume,” she
commented, leaning against the door frame. Zek
laughed, nodding. Aliya sighed, rolling her eyes
skyward. “Zek, Zek, Zek, what am I going to do with
you?” she asked in mock dismay. He tilted his head at
her, lifting his eyebrows playfully. “Dress up like
Nomi Sunrider and go with me?” 
Aliya laughed, “No. I’m not going to another one of
Mark’s rave Halloween parties in a
dress-alike with you. Raggedy-Ann and Andy two years
ago was bad enough.” “How about Qel-Droma
in drag then?” he asked. “How about I paint you green
and say you’re Yoda and Darth Vader’s
love-child,” she retorted. “Ouch,” he muttered. 
“Anyway, I already have a costume,” she said with
aloof
mystery, walking away down the hall. 
Zek watched her disappear before he could ask what,
then shrugged. With her warped sense of
humor, whatever it was, it would be good. Hopefully
not Boba Fett again, that one had been a bit much. 
It was funny when she ripped off the helmet after
winning for best costume though, shaking out her
ponytail and earning cheers around the room. He
chuckled, returning to fighting with his contacts as
the
left threatened to pop out.
This would be a year to remember.
------------------------

Kiraan chuckled as Zek came down the stairs in full
Exar Kun regalia. “So? how’s it look?” Zek
asked, turning and showing off the outfit. Kiraan
applauded, and Zekk just glowered. “Do you have any
idea how far in bad taste that is?” he growled. Zek
just grinned, “Yeah, Richie’s gonna go dressed as
Luke, and Jimmy’s supposedly coming as Darth Maul.” 
Kiraan growled softly, then snorted. “Oh, yeah,
forgot, don’t like Maul,” Zek muttered. 
“Anyway, his boyfriend is coming as Obi-wan, so
they’re doing ‘Sith Academy’ Maul and Obi
this year. They’re both about as straight as a
mountain road, but they’re fun,” Zek rambled, grabbing
his
coat off the rack. “ALI! come on! Party starts at
seven!” he shouted up the stairs. A faint ‘Gimmie a
sec,’ filtered down the stairs. 
“You three sure you don’t want to come? It’ll be
fun, plus, you already got the best costumes
there,” Zek asked with a shrug. “Maybe not,” Aliya
said, coming down the stairs. Zek turned toward her,
and his jaw nearly hit the floor. Even Kiraan drew
back in surprise with a mrowling noise.
Aliya smiled, dropping the hood of the robe and
taking in their reactions. “I got inspired this
year,” she commented, straightening her collar. “I
even got the ears right,” she said, pushing her hair
back to reveal pointed ears. Kiraan’s jaw nearly
hit the floor with the rest of the room as he studied
her
costume. 
Yellow-gold contacts, pointed ears, face and neck
covered in tan body-paint. Kiraan lifted a
curious eyebrow at the Jedi robes though. 
“You make a nice Trelari,” he commented absently,
still stunned. She smiled, pulling the robe’s
hood back up. “How...” Zek said, still lost. “Ariel
let me borrow her robe, and the ears came from your
Trekkie-buddies. The eyes came from Kyle and Jimmy,
he keeps extra sets for role-playing. And yes, I
made sure they were new, not used,” she said, pushing
her brother’s jaw shut by the chin. “Now let’s go,
the party starts at seven,” she said, straightening
her hood and heading for the door.
“On second thought,” Kiraan began, stopping them at
the door. “Maybe it would do us all some
good to get out into society a little.” Both his
apprentices and the two in costume looked at him in
surprise. 
----------------------

“This is all you and your fake pointed ears’ fault,
you know,” Ariel growled accusingly at Aliya. 
Kiraan lifted an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged,
falling silent. The quartet of humans and one alien
ascended the steps to the loft apartment where the
party was being held. Zek as Kun, Aliya as a Trelari,
Zekk in his Jedi robes, and Ariel sulking behind in
something borrowed from Aliya’s closet. Kiraan
rumbled amusement at her foul reaction to the concept
of pretending to be someone else. 
“Ariel, I have seen this Babylon 5, and you make a
plausible Susan Ivanova,” he rumbled. She
narrowed her eyes and let her breath out in a hiss. 
He chuckled, “Complete with foul temperament,” he
added, then fell silent as the door opened. “Behave,”
he warned quietly, then turned to look at their
greeter.
“Ali! Zek! oh, my two favorite freaks! Ooh, Exar
Kun? now there’s a statement. Good thing
there’s no Kyp this year. Ali?! oh my dear, what an
amazing costume! What is it supposed to be?” the
young man with spiked blond hair with dark roots
rambled at the door. He was dressed in a
moisture-farmer’s loose tunic and legging boots, and
Kiraan guessed this was Richie. Kiraan rumbled a
chuckle, drawing his attention. “Ooh, and who are
your friends?” the streak-haired Richie nearly purred
to Zek.
Kiraan drew himself taller, narrowing his eyes
dramatically. “I am Kyrraan of Dranthaal, of the
Trelari, and this is my apprentice, Zekk.” He said,
gesturing toward Zekk. “And his sister, Ariel, who
reluctantly joined Earth Force a few moments before
arriving.” Ariel glared, and Richie chuckled. “She
refuses to believe that she makes an acceptable Susan
Ivanova,” Kiraan added, and Ariel scowled daggers
at him.
“Babe, brand me Marcus Cole, because you _SO_ look
fine in blue,” Richie said, bowing and
pulling her hand up to kiss the back of it gracefully.
The Jedi royal fought off a blush unsuccessfully,
pulling her hand away sheepishly. “Um,” she managed,
looking away, “Thanks.” Kiraan chuckled,
looking toward Zekk with a smirk. Zek, Aliya and Zekk
were already moving past Richie through the
huge sliding door. Richie gracefully bowed and
gestured gallantly for Ariel to enter, and she started
blushing again.
Kiraan chuckled again as she hurried past him. 
Richie stood straight again, laughing lightly at
her panic. He looked at Kiraan strangely for a
moment, “Dude, amazing costume, but I thought Kiraan’s
apprentice was that prince guy, Ethan,” he said. 
Kiraan restrained a growl, only nodding. “Zekk is
Ethan’s descendant. I *am* over four-hundred years
old,” he said. Richie nodded, then smiled. “About
time someone picked some Fanfic characters to dress
as, man. Always welcome, always welcome,” he
said, gesturing Kiraan inside. The ancient Jedi
chuckled to himself, peering curiously at the group
within
the apartment.
-----
Loud music, dancing lights, dancing people, and
familiar outfits on strange people. -This could
be interesting,- he mused. He caught sight of two men
necking in the corner, one dressed as a Jedi
padawan, the other in black robes with smudged red and
black makeup. He shook his head, generally
ignoring them. -This is worse than a Falleen orgy,-
he briefly mused, losing count of the open alcohol,
open groping, and open blouses here and there. 
One man dressed as Han Solo was hitting on a girl
wearing Boba Fett’s armor, and Kiraan
paused, then snickered. After a while, he lost
himself in the crowd, enjoying the strange sensation
of
being around so many people for the first time in a
long, long time.
A midget dressed as Yoda danced past him, doing a few
disco steps along the way. Kiraan lost it
completely, laughing aloud. Someone dressed as
Xanatos looked at him strangely, then moved away
through the crowd. It took him a moment too long to
realize it WAS Xanatos. He shoved past two Oolas
and a Thrawn, trying to spot him again. He caught a
fleeting glimpse of him vanish into another room. 
He moved through the crowd with his usual near-feline
Jedi grace, desperately hoping he was just
imagining things. He reached the doorway, and saw a
long table of assorted food and drinks, and a figure
in black shaking something into a bowl of punch. He
moved up behind him silently.
“I believe the punch has already been spiked several
times over already,” he rumbled behind the
figure in black. The Jedi-quick spin and reflexive
reaching for an absent weapon confirmed his worst
suspicions. Xanatos froze, staring up at the ancient
Jedi master in stark shock and blank surprise. He
finally blinked blankly, the information before him
sinking in. 
“K...Kiraan?” he asked, stunned. Kiraan let a soft
growl of confirmation escape, knowing it
wouldn’t be heard over the music in the other room. 
“What the Zrall are you doing here, and HOW in the
Zrall did you get here?” Kiraan growled. Xanatos
blinked again, then looked around uneasily. “I, um,
I’m not sure. All I remember is creeping around the
temple at night, then I found this big, glowing hole
in the wall. I, well, I was stupid enough to touch
it, and it pulled me here.”
Kiraan growled in disbelief. “I’m serious! It’s the
truth! I was creeping about after I escaped on
Telos, and there was this glowing vortex-thing in the
wall behind Obi-wan’s wall,” Xanatos insisted. “I
fell out into some sort of bar or club of some sort,
but it was empty. I lit out a window, I.. I didn’t
know
where I was, and I had no idea how to get back, so I
panicked.” 
Kiraan vaguely remembered the open window in the
kitchen a few days prior, and asking Aliya
about it. He nodded acceptance, “That doesn’t excuse
you spiking the drinks, especially when there’s
already enough lose alcohol to inebriate all of
Corellia flowing around here.” Xanatos snorted, “I
wasn’t
spiking with Booze,” he said, grinning a malicious
lop-sided smirk. Kiraan lifted an eyebrow
questioningly. Xanatos held up the little white glass
vial with a black etching of black vines around it.
“Bloodthorn powder, a little something from the
all-purpose Sith Cookbook,” Xanatos gloated. 
Kiraan snatched the vial from him, grabbing him by the
shirt-front with his other hand and slamming him
back against the edge of the table. “You
Svrikh-hearted, rotten little...” he trailed off,
noticing the eyes
that had turned toward him. He released Xanatos,
growling menacingly. 
“You are coming back to the club, and you’re going to
show me exactly where you came out, or
I’m going to stuff you back into whatever pit of hell
you crawled out of,” he said quietly, an edge of steel
to his threat. Xanatos gulped visibly, nodding once. 
Kiraan growled with a smirk on his face, casually
placing a hand on Xanatos’ shoulder and guiding him
out of the room like a friend, but with a vicious
force-grip on his shoulder to prevent him becoming
creative in their retreat.

Aliya and Zekk noticed Kiraan arguing with someone,
and came over to investigate. “Hey,
Kiraan, what’s up?” Aliya asked, then let her further
questions fade out at noticing his scowl at the person
he was escorting from the room. Zekk looked confused,
but Aliya definitely recognized the dark hair, blue
eyes and circular scar. “Aliya, Zekk, this is
Xanatos, the real Xanatos, not a drunken frat-boy in
costume
like the rest of this bunch,” Kiraan said, keeping his
hold on Xanatos’ shoulder.
The fallen Jedi grumbled a comment, faking a smile
and glaring at Kiraan sideways. “How....?”
Aliya began, but trailed off, at a loss for words. 
Xanatos snickered and shrugged, “Your guess is as good
as mine, Dove,” he said. Aliya squeaked at the pet
name. “How did you..” she began. He chuckled,
“You’re human, you leak thoughts like a sieve. 
Besides,” he smiled unpleasantly, “You look terrible
as a
Trelari, and you’re only doing it because you’re hot
for a certain Jedi master who’s about as much a Jedi
as I am a Wookiee.”
Kiraan yanked him back by the shoulder with an angry
growl, but Aliya stepped forward,
smacking Xanatos across the face viciously. The SMACK
somehow found its way over the ambient din of
the music and talking, making several people look at
the quartet oddly. “Don’t you *ever* talk to me like
that,” she hissed in the sudden quiet-spell following
the crack of palm-on-cheek. 
Kiraan lifted an eyebrow at her curiously, somewhere
between being impressed and knowing he
should reprimand her for striking him. Even if he did
deserve it. Aliya stormed off, yanking the hood of
the robe up to hide her makeup and her furious
flushing. The crowd returned to ignoring them, and
Kiraan dragged Xanatos toward the door, with Zekk
following uncertainly.
Kiraan casually slammed Xanatos off the hallway wall
as they passed through the door. He
flicked a cautious glance around, then flexed out his
claws to their full length, holding them up only a
bare inch from Xanatos’ face. “You ever threaten,
harm, or offend any of my apprentices or my friends
again, and I’ll make sure you acquire more than just
that one little scar to remember me by,” he growled
quietly in a threatening whisper, running the backs of
his claws down Xanatos’ scarred cheek. Xanatos’
blue eyes went wider for a moment, then he breathed in
sharply as Kiraan’s claws nicked his chin,
drawing a tiny bead of blood.
Kiraan released him, gesturing toward the stairs. 
Xanatos grudgingly headed down the stairs,
followed by Kiraan and Zekk. A growl from Kiraan once
out on the street dispelled any thought of
bolting from the two Jedi. Kiraan escorted Xanatos
down the block to the club, and the trio disappeared
into the growing void-space outside the club before
reappearing at the door.
---------------------

---------------------

Aliya sat sulking in the bedroom, seated on a pile of
coats, picking at a fake nail she’d trimmed
to blunt points to make pseudo-claws. Dressed like
this, she almost felt the urge to mew like a dejected
kitty. A hand brushed her shoulder, and she looked up
into foreign green eyes in her brother’s face. 
“Hey,” he said simply, standing next to her. She
sighed, “Hey.” “Mind if I join you?” he asked,
sitting
down on the corner of the bed. She forced a smile,
“Sure, I kinda ruined my enjoyment of this party, why
not everyone else’s’?” 
Zek sighed, tugging on her ponytail. “Hey, come on,
it’s not that bad,” he said, trying to cheer
her up. “At least Kiraan liked your costume.” She
sighed in exasperation and disgust, dropping her head
to her knees. “No, he didn’t. No one did. The only
person who really noticed was Xanatos, and I nearly
decked him for it.” “Xanatos?” Zek asked, confused. 
“Homicidal guy from the Jedi Apprentice books. 
Apparently he found a way here like Kiraan and the
looney-toon twins did,” Aliya explained, then thought
over the statement.
“Wait. If he got here, then the portal is still
open. There might be some way to hold open the
vortex on this end to send Kiraan and the others
back!” Both twins were on their feet and heading for
the
door. “Oh, wait, Ariel!” Aliya said, stopping to
search the crowd for her. “Ali, you’ll never find her
in
this mess,” Zek said, nodding at the crowd. Aliya
looked at the mass of people again, frowning. 
Flashing lights, loud music, free-flowing alcohol. 
Ariel was long gone by now, either lost in a
corner or inebriated beyond coherent thought. Either
way, she had a feeling she’d be okay, as long as
Richie wasn’t playing ‘booze-the-newbie’ again. Oh
well, she was a big girl, and a Jedi. 
“Okay, we’re gone. We’ll come back later to find her
I guess,” Aliya said, sighing and heading
for the door. 
---------------------

Xanatos fumed, parking himself on a barstool and
crossing his arms over his chest. “No,” he
said flatly and defiantly. Kiraan snarled, topaz-gold
eyes starting to glow angrily. He slammed one hand
onto the bar next to Xanatos, the claws of the other
digging into the side of the stool next to the fallen
Jedi’s thigh. He leaned to within barely a few inched
of the human’s face, snarling.
“I am closer than you ever want to know to shredding
your face from your skull and strangling
you to death with it,” Kiraan growled in the inhuman
tone he only used when well and truly beyond
furious. “Not only because you tried to kill Qui-gon,
but because you’re a sneaking, stinking little Przat.”

He snorted in the human’s face, backing away. “The
only reason I didn’t kill you when you turned away
was that I gave Qui-gon my word,” he added quietly,
menacingly.
“Qui-gon is still alive in my world, all that crap in
that video-thing hasn’t happened,” Xanatos
said, a faint note of pleading to his tone. “If the
portal is still open, then it’ll lead back to my time,
my
world, my reality, where he’s still alive.” Kiraan
looked at him strangely, trying to hide the stricken
look
that told he hadn’t realized that fact. He walked
away a few paces, his demeanor passing from
threatening to nervous. 
“Think of it, Kiraan. A world where you’ll have a
good twenty years before Naboo, before the
Empire, before that Skywalker/Vader person was even
born!” Xanatos said, pouring his best selling-voice
into it. Kiraan flinched, growling. “How do you know
of all this? It’s not part of your world,” he asked
suspiciously.
Xanatos gulped visibly, then resumed. “I’ve been
here for almost a week, I’ve seen things, heard
things. When I figured out a few fragments of what
had happened, I started researching everything I
could. Books, movies, tele-vid things, graphic
novels, comics. I’m probably the only person from our
universe to know more about the past and future than
even the ancient Jedi seers.” 
Kiraan watched him warily, thinking. He’d been doing
the same thing, researching their
universe through this world’s fictionalized eyes. He
growled softly, considering. This wasn’t the Xanatos
he’d known, he was too young. His timeline’s Xanatos
was a good thirty-five-plus years older, and a
grandfather to an immensely powerful Dark-Force adept
named Zhane. This Xanatos was a mischievous
little monster, still full of dark potential of his
own, not an old man standing behind a child’s
shoulder,
watching a Jedi knight die.

Kiraan rumbled softly to himself, turning away from
Xanatos. “This is not our world, but my
oath still holds. I can’t kill you,” he rumbled. He
turned slowly, facing Xanatos. “I know you do not
wish to return to your own world. I’m not sure it
would be safe to return you, knowing as much as you
do.” Kiraan sighed wearily, weighing his decision
against the good of the universe in general. “Help
me,
and I’ll leave you alone here,” he finally said, and
Zekk’s jaw dropped. “Master Kiraan, you can’t...” he
began. Kiraan silenced him with a gesture, then
turned back to Xanatos.
“You’ve offered me a world of the past, but it isn’t
my past. I can no more enter your world than
I can survive here without the parallel universe
formed within this area. Yes, I know you’ve noticed
it
too, and you seem to be able to live outside the
boundary, but I cannot. I am alien here, and an
Alien. I
cannot survive on this planet long without returning
to this place. My powers do not work beyond these
few city blocks, and the air grows thin for me the
further I go from this place. 
“I am tethered, and neither I nor any Trelari in
history has ever been able to stand the feeling of
being trapped, of being caged in by the air itself.” 
Kiraan paused, looking back to the wall of the alcove
Xanatos had indicated. He moved closer to the wall
with slow, wary steps. He reached out cautiously,
then touched the wall.
As always, it was solid. No vortex, no portal, no
glowing whirlpool of blue like the archway on
Yavin 4, just stucco and brick. He sighed, pulling
his hand away. “Open it. Touch the wall,” Kiraan
said. Xanatos opened his mouth to protest,
stammering. “I can’t, I don’t know how! You saw it,
it’s
solid brick! You just touched it!” he said. Kiraan
just turned to him with a sigh. “It won’t open for
me. 
I’ve a feeling it will open for you, though,” he said.

The younger human balked, shaking his head in
negative. “No, even if it does, I’m not going
back. They almost had me before, what if I fall out
of the vortex and right into Yoda’s lap?” Kiraan
suddenly growled, his eyes going viciously luminous. 
He snagged Xanatos by the front of the shirt,
dragging him toward the wall with an angry growl. 
“AAaaaaaaaaaah!!” Xanatos cried, then was snapped
toward the wall as Kiraan switched his grip
to the fallen Jedi’s wrist. He continued his
momentum, slamming Xanatos into, or rather THROUGH the
wall, keeping his grip on the boy’s wrist. The
screaming abruptly fell silent as he passed through
the wall
in a aura of blue lightning and swirls of luminous
color.
“WOAH!” Aliya exclaimed, frozen in the entry-way,
staring at Kiraan’s act. Kiraan’s arm was
now stuck in the wall up to his elbow, with an aura of
colored light-streamers and crackling blue energy
around his arm where it met the wall. “That is way
cool!” Aliya managed, stunned and amazed. “Very
Speilberg-ian,” Zek mused, awestruck. “And Lucas
thinks he’s hot with ILM? Man, he should be here
now,” Zek added, amazed and intrigued, stepping
closer.
Kiraan looked at him over his shoulder with a smirk,
then abruptly snarled with effort, yanking
his arm back through the wall, still holding a very
stunned-looking Xanatos b the arm.
Kiraan released Xanatos, half-tossing him into the
middle of the room. Xanatos staggered,
obviously in shock. “Well?” Kiraan asked, “Did you
find Yoda’s lap?” he added with a sarcastic smirk. 
Xanatos blinked uneasily, slowly recovering. “You...”
he finally managed, breathing erratically. “You
scared the sh..” he paused, wheezing. “What in the...
No, WHY in the... did you do that for?” he gasped,
still stunned. 
Kiraan sneered, “Testing the portal. I knew it would
let you back through somehow, I just
wanted to test my instinct,” he said. Xanatos looked
at him in disbelief, then slipped into a snarl. 
“You...” he started with an angry snarl. Kiraan
smirked, “Besides, I promised Qui-gon I wouldn’t kill
you. I said absolutely nothing about torturing,
injuring, physically or psychologically maiming you. 
Though I don’t believe this particular form of torture
came up during that discussion,” he added, nodding
toward the still-glowing wall. 
Xanatos looked ready to tear Kiraan’s throat out, if
he even briefly believed for a second he could
take the ancient Jedi master. His shoulders heaved
with the obvious restraint of his homicidal intent,
glaring at Kiraan with enough searing hate that even
Aliya across the room took a step back. “Put it away
boy, I’ve faced down worse than you before breakfast
on a fair day,” Kiraan growled, arms crossed over
his chest, seemingly invulnerable to the Dark-infused
glare.
Xanatos slowly collected himself, the faint flicker
of angry blue energy around his fingers fading. 
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and
straightening his shoulders with obvious effort. He
reopened
his ice-blue eyes, still angry, but controlled enough
to think better about fighting Kiraan Force-to-Force. 
Kiraan only gave him a small tilt of the head as
acceptance of his restraint. 
“Now,” Kiraan said, taking a deep breath, narrowing
his topaz eyes at Xanatos. “What was over
there?” he asked, nodding toward the wall. Xanatos
took a few more controlled breaths before speaking. 
“Obi-wan’s closet, in the Jedi temple, on the other
side of where I left. I’d recognize those drab browns
and taupes anywhere. Plus, he opened the closet door
just before you pulled be back through,” he said
slowly, thoughtfully, still fighting his temper and
indignation. He smiled oddly, then snorted a laugh. 
“I
have to wonder what’s happening over there right now. 
I probably gave him one hell of a scare,” he
chuckled.
Kiraan just nodded, allowing him the malicious
chuckle and smirk without reproach. He’d
earned a few moments of dark-wallowing for being
Kiraan’s guinea-pig on his portal theory. Kiraan was
just glad that he’d been right, otherwise, he’d have
had one Zrall of a Force-healing to perform on
someone without a Light-side molecule in his body. 
He’d probably have ended up killing him eventually
anyway, oath or no oath. At least now the boy knew
even Kiraan had limits to his tolerance for fools.
“But what about us? How do we get back if it’s
Xanatos’ timeline? The Jedi Temple’s been
rubble for the past fifty years in out world, and out
portal was on Yavin 4, not Coruscant,” Zekk said. “I
mean, I used to live on Coruscant, I saw what was left
of the temple.” 
Xanatos looked bewildered, then a flicker of
something passed through his eyes. “Wait a minute,
you’re THAT Zekk? The Shadow Academy Zekk? The
gorgeous bastard I was wishing I’d gotten to meet
before the Jedi ruined you?” Xanatos asked. Zekk
shrugged with a bewildered and half-hearted sheepish
smirk. 
“DAMMIT!” Xanatos suddenly shouted, stomping and
kicking over a chair. He continued
ranting for a minute, cursing and kicking another
chair, then collected himself. He raked a gloved
hand
trough his long hair, pushing it out of his face and
looking at Zekk in disbelief. “I don’t believe this. 
I
actually LIKED you, I liked a damn, sorry Jedi
convert!” Xanatos said, then shook his head. “So, you
go
from a gorgeously honed weapon of the dark side to
being...” he looked up at Kiraan, then snorted in a
snicker “A Rogue’s Apprentice?” 
Zekk looked defensive, preparing a retort, but
Xanatos couldn’t hold out for an answer. He burst
out laughing, nearly doubling over as he looked up at
Kiraan, then to Zekk, then started laughing even
harder. 
“Rogue’s Apprentice!” he gasped between laughs like a
private joke, then nearly fell over,
holding himself semi-upright with his hands on his
knees, fighting to catch his breath. “Oh, oh this is
too
good. This is better than scaring the crap out of
Obi-wanker. This is hilarious,” he said from beneath
a
curtain of dark hair, catching his breath from his
laughing fit. 
“Oh, oh no, oh dear universe! Dare I say it? Dare I
make this day complete?” he suddenly said,
standing up straight. “Dear, dear Zekk, there’s
something I must tell you about your former master. 
Something very, very important,” Xanatos said, forcing
himself to calm slightly. Kiraan bristled uneasily,
and Zekk narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 
“You must know, first, when he was a young man, he
had another name, an embarrassing name,
and many people who thought he was a gangly little
freak with the social graces of a drunk Gungan. That
name,” he started chuckling again. “That name, that
hated name, was,” he paused, snickering again. 
“WORMIE!!” he finally spat out, then promptly rolled
to the floor laughing histerically. 
Zekk wrinkled his face in confusion, then looked to
Kiraan and shrugged. Aliya was already
laughing to tears. Zekk and Zek looked at them both
strangely. “It was, Zekk, it’s in the books,” Aliya
said, fanning her face in an attempt to catch her
breath. “His friends on Tattooine used to call him...
that,” she said, then burst out laughing again,
covering her mouth with her hands in an attempt to
stop
laughing. 
Kiraan just rumbled a sigh, watching them both. 
“Xanatos,” he rumbled thoughtfully, “I believe
it’s time you went home, before you do any more
damage.” Xanatos was so lost in fighting to control
his
laughing fit to realize what he’d said until Kiraan
helped him up from the floor. His face suddenly fell
as
Kiraan tightened his grip on his shoulder, the other
hand grabbing the seat of Xanatos’ pants. Xanatos
barely had time to utter a “Woah! wait!” as Kiraan
heaved him through the faintly-glowing wall with a
growling grunt of effort and a nudge with the force. 
Xanatos’ icy eyes went wide in panic, then he
instinctively flinched as he pseudo-collided with
the wall, disappearing in a crackle of blue lightning
and colored light-streamers. The wall pseudo-moved
in a ripple as the space-time next to it closed behind
Xanatos. The faint opalescent glow of the wall faded
to common tan stucco. Kiraan experimentally placed a
hand on the wall, and found it solid. He sighed
deeply, knowing he might have just thrown away their
only chance of going home.
Zekk stepped over curiously, looking bewildered. 
“Are we stuck here now?” he asked. Kiraan
sighed again, pulling his hand away from the wall,
flexing his claws with a rumble of uncertainty. “I
don’t know,” he said honestly, sounding slightly
frightened beneath the years of voice-training. Zek
rested a hand on Zekk’s shoulder reassuringly, and
Aliya sighed from next to them, still in costume and
still confused. Kiraan shoved a lock of hair out of
Zekk’s face, trying to smile. His attempt was
ignored,
and he sighed deeply.
Kiraan suddenly felt two arms wrap around his left
arm, a face pressing to his shoulder in a
comforting hug. He looked down, lifting an eyebrow
curiously at Aliya, who suddenly backed away,
seeming to realize how silly comforting a Jedi master
looked. She also realized from his smirk and the
bronze smudge on his shoulder that she was still in
costume. Her hand went guiltily to her cheek, where
she was already blushing through the makeup. 
Kiraan just rumbled a soft chuckle, running the back
of a finger down her now normal-colored
cheek. “I don’t give a Drzat what Xanatos says, you
did make a fair Trelari,” he said softly, almost
sounding fatherly again. She suddenly blushed even
more furiously beneath the makeup, starting to look
orange. She fled for the stairs, pulling off one of
the fake pointed ears as she turned the corner.
Kiraan chuckled again, and Zek looked at the stairs
with a strange frown. Zekk just shook his
head, then looked around the room curiously. “Um, by
the way, where’s Ariel?” 
Zek, Zekk and Kiraan looked at each other strangely,
then a look of panic hit. The trio headed
for the door, rushing back to the party.
----------------------




----------------------

Ariel was well past wasted, her head lying in
Richie’s lap while he tickled her nose with a daisy
from the bouquet in the corner. She giggled in a very
un-imperial manner, sighing and batting at the
flower absently. The Maul/Obi couple had disappeared,
and from the near-empty room, most of the party
had cleared out in the short time they’d been gone. 
The trio stopped dead in the doorway, surveying the
vastly different scene with surprise. Kiraan
looked around, then looked toward the second room
where the buffet table was. He crossed the distance
quickly as Zek and Zekk made their way toward the
inebriated royal Lady. As he’d feared, the punch
bowl was drained dry. Even in a parallel universe,
Bloodthorn powder was just as effective. He sighed
heavily in a silent ‘Oh, no,’ hoping desperately that
Ariel hadn’t drank any. 
Zekk had Ariel on her feet, well, mostly. It took
both of them to hoist her to a standing position. 
Zek glowered at Zekk. “She’s your sister, just use
the damn force or something to carry her,” he
grumbled near a whisper as Ariel nearly dragged him to
the floor trying to say hi to Kiraan. “It doesn’t
work this far from the club. Kiraan’s does, mine
doesn’t. Long story. Just heave your side a little
and..”
Zekk began quietly, then Ariel passed out completely. 

“Awww sh...,” they both grumbled, knowing full well a
passed-out drunk is twice as heavy as a
sleeping person, and three times as heavy as a
half-awake person who can walk on their own with help.

Kiraan rumbled a chuckle, watching them struggle for
a moment before approaching Richie. 
“So, how did the party go after we left?” he asked. 
Richie looked up, then sighed in disgust. “Downhill,
man, seriously downhill. Somebody spiked the punch
with something, and then all hell broke loose. We
had hallucinations, drunks, sex-fiends, oh, and one
boy I KNOW is straight as an arrow sucked into
playing the triple tango with the Sith Academy
lovebirds. I mean, those two got worse than usual
with
their horny little selves. Kyle and Jimmy have NEVER
gone triple before.”
Richie shook his head, “Whatever they dumped in that
punch, they could make a fortune off on
the streets, man. It’s gotta be experimental or
something to set people off like that,” he said. 
Kiraan
fought off a chuckle, reminding himself that Jedi
didn’t chuckle at other’s misfortune.... but it was
funny. 
“It wasn’t experimental, it’s just very old,” he mused
quietly, then realized he shouldn’t be mentioning it. 
Richie looked up curiously, and Kiraan knew he had to
finish it.
“It’s called Bloodthorn. It’s an herbal hallucinogen
and aphrodisiac, basically, it’s like your
marijuana and Viagra combined. It doesn’t grow
anywhere around here, it’s limited to a small patch of
land deep in the jungle.” -Of Yavin 4, transplanted
there by Exar Kun from a snippet taken from the
Republic Arboretum,- he continued mentally. 
Dren stuff was a weed on Yavin 4, no one realized
what it was. It ran wild like the Earthan
Kudzu, overrunning temples and swallowing monuments
whole in the space of decades. Luckily, it was
still far enough away from the Jedi Academy that no
one would pay much attention to it yet. 
The question of where Xanatos got it suddenly came to
mind, knowing it only grows in a total of
five places in the known galaxy. The arboretum, Yavin
4, Ossus, Kyronis, and.... Flaming hell, Telos. 
Kiraan almost laughed. Telos, the boy grew up with
the Sith-spawned weeds. No wonder, it somehow
seemed fitting. He shook off the thoughts, realizing
the mirror-image Zek and Zekk were still trying to
figure out how to get the Lady out the door while
keeping a shred of decorum and not carry her like a
sack
of potatoes.
He snickered, patting Richie on the shoulder and
moving over to help them. “Allow me,” he
said, bending over and picking Ariel up from where
they’d sat her down on the floor. He hefted her over
his shoulder with only normal Trelari strength, he
didn’t need the force to lift one tiny human female,
no
matter how heavy with alcohol she was.
He did concede that even with a Jedi metabolism, she
was going to have one massive hangover in
the morning. Of course, as part of her training, he’d
have to let her find her own way to alleviate it. A
just punishment for himself, putting up with a
hung-over royal Lady. He should never have left her
alone,
even assuming that Zek and Aliya would be there to
watch her. 
He sighed, carefully walking down the stairs and
heading for the door. They both needed to sleep
this day off. He crossed into the void-space,
followed by the doubles, and they reappeared next to
the
door. Kiraan looked back at the void-space from the
inside uneasily. It seemed further when they’d
crossed it this time, as if the void had grown again. 
He shook it off, hoping it would shrink in a few days
like the last time. It was probably just a
side-effect of his little play-time with Xanatos,
stressing-out the
portal as Aliya put it once.

He set her down on her bed gently after reaching her
room. With a whispered goodnight, he
turned out the lights and left her sleep it off. The
nagging worry of what Xanatos might do with his
knowledge of this world still bothered him. He knew
deep in his essence, even without the Force, that this
wasn’t going to be the end of this adventure. Xanatos
would be back, and he’d bring trouble.
Kiraan let out a rumbling sigh, wearied by the day. 
He’d have to worry about all that later. 
Right now, well, right now, he was going to sleep, and
not even Exar Kun, Naga Sadow or the entire Sith
order of the past five-thousand years was going to
stop him. -I’m a cranky old man, and four-hundred
year old Jedi or not, even I need my sleep,- he
grumbled, waving a vague answer to Zekk’s goodnight as
he passed. 
He peered into Aliya’s room as he passed, and saw her
rubbing furiously at her makeup still. 
With the makeup off, the ears gone, and the lenses
replaced by her own enchanting brown, she looked
miserable. He realized, she liked pretending to be
someone else, she wasn’t sure being herself was ever
good enough. His normally impassive face grew sad, he
knew that feeling all too well. Force-illusions
and arrogance kept him from admitting he was really
just what he was, a terrified old man trapped in a
world he didn’t know or understand. 
He wanted to go home, to go back thirty years to his
real home, Kyronis. He wanted to see Naia,
and Myaana, and Claire, and Kyran. To go back and see
Qui-gon one last time, instead of walking at his
funeral site on Naboo, wishing he could at least have
said goodbye the last they’d met. 
He wanted to walk in the door to visit Obi-wan and see
the amazing little boy who’d accidentally called
him “Kaian” or “Kirian” more times than he could
count. The little boy that had grown up to destroy
the
lives of so many.
Including his own wife.

Kiraan sighed, he’d have loved to have been anyone
else this night. Don a costume and play a
role, if even for the night. He suspected this was
the real reason for the popularity of the holiday. 
He’d
have even been willing to trade places with Xanatos
for the night at the moment, anything to forget
four-hundred years of sorrows. He sniffled, blinking
the memories away with the tears that threatened. 
He started for his own room again, not wanting Aliya
to notice him lurking in the hall. He wasn’t sure he
could talk to her after everything tonight. 
Something about the flicker of an image, Aliya
dressed as a Trelari. No, dressed as him, that was
what he’d been thinking of. She’d been dressed as
himself in his Jedi days, but in what they called
drag. 
Something about seeing pointed ears and gold eyes on a
living being, if only prosthetic, it made him want
to see his homeworld again. 
Now he knew how Anakin had felt, all those arguments
about his mother in the early times. 
Poor Obi-wan, saddled with a miniature Kiraan in human
form, with just as dark a childhood, and twice
as cruel a fate. Kiraan had taken over a hundred and
fifty years to straighten himself out, Anakin only
another fifty at the most in his human life. He
suddenly found himself pitying the man he’d hated
fathomlessly for the past thirty years. 
He shook his head wearily, it was definitely time for
bed when one began to sympathize with the
enemy.
-----------------------------------

Xanatos clamped his hand over Obi-wan’s mouth again
as someone passed the door outside. 
“Keep quiet, you fool. Do you honestly want the
entire temple knowing about this?” he hissed in the
Jedi’s ear. Obi-wan shoved him away, glaring
viciously. “I can keep my voice down, it’s just the
fact that
you’re here, alive, telling me that you’ve found a
parallel universe in my skivvies drawer that upsets
me.”
Xanatos sighed, “I already told you everything, right
down to me planning to poison the water
with Bloodthorn powder. What more do you want?” 
“Proof!” Obi-wan snarled, then forced his voice
quieter. “Fine, I have proof, and the portal is not
in your skivvies drawer!” Xanatos snapped, rolling up
his sleeve. “See? there’s Kiraan’s claw-marks where
he held me through the portal the first time, when
you opened the door and I disappeared. I was hoping
I’d terrified you into insanity, or at least made you
think I was an evil spirit out for revenge or some
such nonsense,” Xanatos rambled, picking idly at a
scabbed-over claw puncture.
“Evil, yes, spirit, no,” Obi-wan half-joked. Xanatos
gave him a sarcastic smile and a fake laugh,
then let his face drop dramatically to sour
seriousness. “Look, the point is, there’s a doorway
to a parallel
universe in your closet, and I want to use it again. 
I have some unfinished business back there, and I plan
on going back.” -And *getting* back, specifically at
Kiraan, and nonspecifically at two Jedi and their
force-blind doubles,- he growled mentally, biting back
the snarling rage at being given the heave-ho into
the portal by the seat of his pants.
“No,” Obi-wan said firmly, rubbing the back of his
hand thoughtfully against about a day of
stubble. “You do realize how damn-fool that scraggly
snag-grass looks, don’t you? Grow a goatee or
shave the damn mass off, it looks like hell. Worse
than hell, like a Toydarian’s arse,” Xanatos grumbled.

“And what in the flaming hell do you mean ‘No’? I
need that fool portal to get back,” he snapped,
shifting gears to hostile again.
Obi-wan sighed, already used to his mood-swings after
the past half-hour with him. “I mean no,
I cannot allow you to go rampaging around in another
universe, even if it does mean getting you out of
this one. You don’t belong there, it’s not your
world,” he said. Xanatos stood, angry. “I don’t
belong
here either,” he spat. 
“Look at me, I’m not who you knew, I’m probably fifty
shades worse, and I like it! I like
rampaging, I like invading, I like conquering. And if
I don’t get someplace full of easily-manipulated
non-Jedi, non-force-sensitives to boss around, I’m
gonna have to start working on this world,” he said,
pacing. 
He paused, looking down at Obi-wan, icy eyes and
voice turning cold. “Obi-wan, you know what
I’m capable of, do you want that loose on your world?”
he asked, sounding more like a threat than a
question. 
Obi-wan’s jaw tightened uneasily. He stood, looking
Xanatos directly in the eyes. He knew, he
knew full well, and guessed what he’d seen years ago
was only the tip of the iceberg. More of that iceberg
hefted itself out of the water every time Obi-wan
looked, REALLY looked, not just looked at Xanatos. He
nodded slowly, “No,” he said softly. “No, I can’t
have you running loose here either. There, Here,
perhaps Force-knows -where next.” 
“Xanatos, you said yourself, from what you saw inside
the portal when Kiraan was holding you,
it’s unstable. All those little off-shoots and
mini-portals might go other places. If you go back in
there,
you may not end up in that other world, you may end up
in a completely different world all together. You
may even end up in a different *time* altogether. 
It’s too dangerous.”
Xanatos just smirked and shook his head. The ‘I’ll
do it if I want to, and you can’t stop me’ look
was back in his eyes, and Obi-wan knew he’d lost the
argument. “Obi-wan, I’ve had a taste of the most
amazing power. I’ve been to another universe, one
where we’re all fictional characters, where people
dress up in costumes and pretend to be us, because
they can never have the real thing. It’s amazing, and
frightening. 
“The cruelest thing is, I saw a few dozen Obi-wans at
the dress-up party I attended, and even a
few Qui-gons and one very intoxicated Yoda, but no
Xanatos, no decent Dark-siders, all Jedi or just plain
Sith Lords. And it made me realize something: No one
gives a damn. A dark-force adept of impossible
power could be in your very midst here, there or
anywhere, and no one would care, because they don’t
want to see it. We’ve all become glorified symbols of
crap and circumstance.” Xanatos was pacing again,
starting to rant. 
“Fallen Jedi, Dark Jedi, that’s it. No one calls
them Dark-Adept, or Dark-Force wielder, no, it’s
‘Dark Jedi.’ I am not and never will be, nor wish to
be called, even with the word ‘Dark’ in front of it, a
Jedi. I am Xanatos, not some damn fool wanna-be Sith,
not some misguided Jedi led astray, and sure as I
spit in their faces, not some damn fool force-choking,
damsel-in-distress saving JEDI!” he fumed,
jamming his fist angrily in punctuation at the end of
his tirade. 
A little flicker of dark energy pulsed in the room,
and Obi-wan took a step back in surprise. He
was startled by the amount of power contained in that
one little flicker of a view behind Xanatos’ shields. 
He really had become fifty shades worse than in his
youth. Obi-wan’s eyes strayed to his lightsaber,
still
sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. Xanatos
caught the flicker of intent, his features losing
their
previous animation and falling to a vicious, cold
mask.
The two just watched each other, obvious tension in
the room. 

Obi-wan could do it, he could call his lightsaber to
his hand and strike down the unarmed
Xanatos. Something told him he could, nudged him on,
told him it would be so easy, that it was doing the
universe a favor, stopping Xanatos before he could
become too powerful to stop. His hand twitched
unconsciously, considering it.
“Obi-wan,” Xanatos said quietly, “Stop listening.” 
Obi-wan blinked, confused by the words. “Stop
listening to it. You’re not like me, you won’t
survive what it would do to you. You couldn’t kill an
unarmed man in cold blood, not even if it were
worth a trillion lives. It’s not in you, don’t let it
in. Stop listening,” Xanatos said, not quite
pleading,
more like instructing, in the same, harsh, even tone. 
Obi-wan blinked again, the words starting to sink in. 
He realized what he meant slowly, blinking and shaking
his head, trying to shake off the feelings.
“N..no,” Obi-wan said quietly, fighting off the
impulses. He realized what had been happening. 
-The dark side?- he asked himself, rubbing his
forehead uneasily. “Yes,” Xanatos said quietly,
looking
sad. 
“Why?” Obi-wan asked, “Why stop me?” 
Xanatos smiled oddly, “Other than the fact I happen
to enjoy my life quite well, and have no wish
for you to end it? Well, if I’d wanted to turn you to
the dark side, I wouldn’t have done it by making you
hate me personally enough to kill me. Besides, I have
it on very good authority that you’ve got a long,
boring, *Jedi* life ahead of you, and I have no
intention of getting in destiny’s way,” he said, then
smiled
again. “At least not yet.”
He chuckled, heading for the closet door. “I’m going
now, the same way I came in. I don’t
belong here anymore, Obi-wan. I’m not sure where I
belong, but I’m going to find it, even if I have to
search every side-tunnel and vortex inside that
condammdable portal. Goodbye, and I’m hoping we never
meet again,” he said, finishing with a bow. Obi-wan
just looked on in a half-daze, watching Xanatos turn
and walk straight into what should have been solid
wall, disappearing in a flash of blue lightning and
colored blobs of light. The same ripple-effect from
the club wall replayed on the closet wall in a wave of
pseudo-movement, then the wall returned to normal. 
Obi-wan just kept staring at the closet wall,
ignoring the knocking at his door. 
The light touch of a hand on his shoulder startled
him, and he turned to find Qui-gon looking at
him with concern. With only a confused half-thought,
Obi-wan practically dove into Qui-gon’s arms and
started crying, startling the older man. Qui-gon
loosely held him, unsure of all this. Obi-wan
suddenly
recovered himself, backing away hastily and
apologizing. Qui-gon looked even more concerned. 
After a
brief discussion, Obi-wan agreed to explain what had
just happened to him later. 
All Obi-wan could think of was desperately hoping
that no one had noticed the two spikes of dark
energy in his room, and he could convince them it had
only been the one caused by Xanatos’ presence. 
He suddenly felt the urge to slap the segment of his
mind that had decided to pick now to become devious. 
He tried to tuck away the entire incident, but the
higher he put his shields, the more worried Qui-gon
looked.
This was going to be a long day.
--------------------

Xanatos hit the stone floor hard, rolling across it
to a stop. Movement caught the corner of his
vision, the flutter of a cape. Before he could right
himself to his surroundings, a boot landed squarely on
his chest, holding him to the floor while a strange
looking spear was leveled between his eyes. The
negative field tangible even through the boot now
making his ribs creak and his breathing difficult told
him he’d landed exactly where he’d hoped he would. 
“Exar Kun?” he managed to grate out through his
failing respiration. The pressure lessened slightly,
“Speak,” a voice said from above. “My name is
Xanatos, and I have a proposition for you.”


---end---------or is it just the beginning?----------