Star Wars: A Dark Run by John Erik Ege - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

 

“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky- to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.

First to let go of life. Finally,

to take a step without feet.”

Rumi

Min hovered on the threshold of her ship, not getting out, but apparently having emotions about how she and G were parting and wanting to do or say something that might mitigate the emotions, but she knew that was not possible. G waved politely; the love and smile in his eyes and face were still genuine, which only exasperated Min’s personal angst. She closed the door and the ramp made its way up.

“Freya,” G said, pausing only to acknowledge a ramp worker who wanted them to move towards a safety line so the next ship might descend. “Would you go and collect my things from the cave. Specifically, I want my clothes, my saber collection, and the diamond remains. Bring them to the Dragon’s Tooth.”

“Gladly,” Freya said, choosing to be informal.

“May I assume I will be traveling with you?”

“Absolutely,” G said. Then he thought about it.

“Do you want to?”

“Absolutely,” Freya said.

“Great,” G said.

“If you see Jordeen, ask her to come to the Dragon’s Tooth. I’m going to start prepping her for travel. Oh, and if see you Findit, tell him them same thing. And Red.”

Freya bowed and departed on her mission. G turned to witness a Star-runner settling into the spot where Min’s ship had dropped him off, only the allotted space wasn’t capable of containing it all. The pilot had been thoughtful enough to put the flight-deck overhanging the cliff, leaving only the landing gear on the pad. The rear ramp descended after the engines went quiet. The pilot emerged, stretching, smiling up at the sun. His clothing was simple, trousers, loose shirt not tucked in, and a jacket. His side arm rode low on his thigh. G went to meet the pilot and introduced himself.

“Oh, nice to meet you, Master Waycaster,” he said. “Name’s Nicolas Drimmer, but call me Nick.”

“How’d she fly?” G asked.

“Oh, she’s a dream. I had to replace a couple batteries to get it going, and I would recommend changing all of them out, and maybe servicing some of the static capacitor relays, but other than that, this is as good as the day it rolled off the assembly line,” Nick said. “It still has that new ship smell.”

“Anything you didn’t like?” G asked.

“Well, I’m not too fond of the interior cosmetics,” Nick said, honestly. “Someone updated that, and recently. Too girly for my taste.”

“Well, thank you. The rest of your money will be deposited into your account,” G said. “Great, thanks,” Nick said.

“Any chance you need a pilot around here? I’ve been between jobs for a while, now.”

“I don’t know. Track down a guy name Emmer, or a lady by the name of Corissa Fite,” G said. “And if you’re hungry, the cafeteria is free. Take that tube down, and then follow the directory.”

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Nick said, slapping him on the arm and then heading away.

G began a ‘walk around’ of the One-Note, mostly admiring its condition considering it had been ‘mothballed’ in space for a long time. Of course, ‘mothballed’ in interstellar space, near a rarely inhabited space station by some eccentric, wealthy owner, who was known to be a hoarder, meant that the odds were good it was going to be found in pristine conditions. The ship had no special identifying marks, nothing that said the owner had done anything to it other than stashed it, which got G to wondering how many stashes this man had out between the stars, waiting for whatever contingency or emergency he imagined that might happen to him. Hoarding was part neurosis, but given the constant wars, it was also a legitimate drive to protect one’s self interest, if you had the means. Of course, no amount of money would ever prevent the one certainty. Death. No way around that. Death would always come for physical beings, as it did for Gero Running, and now all of his known stashes were being sold by the state for pure profit, due to no family heirs. Except the ones no one knew about. Having extra, secret families on the side came from the same drive to have multiple stashes of back up supplies, safeguarding against the day even love runs out.

“Thank you, Gero,” G said, patting the ship. “This will be appreciated.”

The Ramp Manager, Plao, approached G. “Mr. Waycaster, we’re not really sure what you want us to do with this ship. We need this space, since we scheduled a lot of incoming supplies. The garage is full, so we don’t have room for her there, and Corissa is adamant we can’t park in the valley.”

G nodded. “Bring up the Dragon’s Tooth, I’ll be taking her out for a spin. You can park the One Note in my spot,” G offered. It would still require some shifting of ships to get it in, but it could be done. In the distance, the taller Sister drew his attention and he wondered about making another hangar there, inside the mountain. But it was no longer his to dream about.

“You’re traveling?” Plao asked.

“Mission thing. Top secret,” G said, winking.

“Okay,” Plao said, and went away yelling orders at his men.

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The Dragon’s Tooth, previously owned by Admiral Alarna Byrne, aka G’s mother, was a Fury Class Imperial Interceptor. Its solar panels glistened in the brief sunlight following an intermittent storm that left the ships, the people, and the tarmac wet. Even though his mother hadn’t technically given it to him, he had chosen to keep it, which was bizarre because he had not intended to ever use it. Maybe there was a little Gero Runner in him, too. Unlike the One- Note, though, it had been collecting dust over the last five years, pushed off to a far corner in the underground garage, and had probably been a pain in the ass to retrieve, shuffling ships in the process. His bio-father had asked for it, but G had vetoed and everyone backed him up. His bio- father and his wife were taken and dropped off on Tatoine, their last known home of residence, which had likely changed in the proceeding five years because they were people of interest for old war atrocities and their cover had been blown. Not that anyone would really be looking for them given the current crisis of having lost the Galactic Senate.

Jordeen and Ten approached together. R8-B7, affectionately known as Red, headed up the ramp with an anti-grav skid following him.

“Wow, going out?” Ten asked.

“Yep. Big mission, top secret,” G said, winking.

“It won’t be if you keep saying that,” Ten said.

“Sorry we’re late,” Jordeen entered the conversation. “I found a note from Freya. You wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to let you know I’m leaving,” G said. “Corissa know?” Jordeen asked.

“Does it matter?” Ten asked. “It’s not like she’ll miss him. I’m glad you’re going. It’s time you get out of the cave and live your life.”

“I was living quite happily in the cave, Ten,” G said.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have left the cave,” Ten argued.

“You are so smart,” G said, ruffing her hair. “Just one of the many reasons I love you.” He yelled up into the ship. “Freya, would you bring me down that box I set aside, please?”

“Know where you’re headed?” Jordeen asked. “Not yet,” G said.

“Why not stay till you know?” Jordeen asked. “I’m being compelled by the Force,” G said.

Jordeen suspected that was a lie, but didn’t challenge; from a certain perspective, it could have been spun as truth, and she didn’t want to argue with G. He had clearly made up his mind. A moment later Freya emerged from the ship carrying a box. G thanked her, took the small, intricately carved box, made from the pink salt rock from his cave, and set it on a nearby crate.

“Since I’m going to be missing your birthday, I want to give this to you now,” G said.

Ten seemed excited. She lifted the box at the apparent seam, but nothing happened. G showed her the trick to unlocking the box, as he didn’t want to wait for her to figure it out, and she lifted it easily. The box itself was a pretty cool gift, she thought. The items inside the box was swaddled in a felt cloth. She unwrapped the item and found a lightsaber and practice orb. She went right for the lightsaber and eased it out of the box, testing its weight, looking for a natural fit to her hand. She peered into the barrel. G redirected the business end of the lightsaber away from her face.

“Careful, it’s not a toy,” G said.

“I know, just curious what it looked like in there,” Ten said. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“Well, I thought you were ready, but if you’re going to look down the barrel…” G complained, humorously.

“I’ll try not to let my curiosity get the better of me,” Ten promised.

“In that event, you’re ready to start training,” G said. “Which is why I wanted you to have this.”

“How am I ready? I have not demonstrated any Force abilities,” Ten argued.

“It’s the stark absence of any abilities that is evidence that you are capable,” G explained.

“That makes no sense,” Ten said, the tenor of her voice colored by her grievance. “The absence of something can’t be evidence for something, by definition.”

“Even the most casual glance into a person’s life will reveal evidence of miracles,” G said. “You are so determined to prove to yourself that life is merely mundane that you have created a void of miracles around you. If that isn’t a Force ability, I don’t know what is. Step back and see how it feels. The switch will recognize your fingerprints.”

“So, are you telling me I have discovered a new Force ability?” Ten asked, almost excitedly.

“There are no new Force abilities,” G assured her, almost grumpy as if he had gone over this time and time again. “All things are possible with the Force. The fact that you rarely see or hear something new is simply due to a general lack of creativity, laziness, and disbelief. Umm,” G said, realizing she was paying more attention to the weapon in her hand than what he was saying. She would hear it and understand when she was ready. “Go ahead. Light it up.”

Ten stepped back and activated the lightsaber. It ignited with a loud pop that drew everyone working on the tarmac’s attention. Her face brightened, both figuratively from her excitement, and literally from the illumination of the weapon.

“It’s pink!” Ten said. “How did you know?!”

“That you liked pink? I made that especially for you, sort of,” G said. “If anyone asks, that’s the story we’re sticking to.”

Her smile receded, her eyes indicating she was tracking something internal. It was a sensation that pulsed from the crown of her head to her toes, and down the length of her arms and out her fingertips. “I feel weird.”

“I told you, you’re ready,” G said.

Ten powered down the lightsaber. “I really felt something!” she said.

“Small steps, Ten,” Jordeen said, touching her shoulder.

“But it’s a really large world! How will I ever get anywhere at this rate?” Ten complained.

“When you realize that there is nowhere to go, you will have arrived,” G said.

“I really hate when you say things like that, but I love you. Thank you. Thank you for never quitting on me,” Ten said. She thoughtfully wrapped the Lightsaber and returned it to the box. She then hugged G.

“May I go with you?” she asked.

“Your path lies in a different direction,” G told her.

“But I still need you,” Ten said. “My training isn’t complete.”

“Oh, my little Padawan, haven’t you learned yet? Our training is never complete. Yeah, you will read books written by Jedi and Sith alike, everyone offering goals necessary to prove you’ve arrived. You’re here, you’ve arrived, but that doesn’t mean you are through traveling,” G said.

“I will miss you,” Ten said.

“I’m always with you,” G said.

“Keep practicing your dream work, we’ll meet there.”

Ten hugged him again then closed the box, collected her gift, and before she could walk away, G added, “And don’t cut off a limb with the lightsaber.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ten said.

Jordeen and G watched her leave. She had slight bounce in her step, a lightness that suggested a secret joy, something that was easily missed with her mask of cynicism the public was accustomed to. It was apparent to both G and Jordeen that Ten had no idea just how far she had traveled in five years, overcoming past severe neglect and abuse. Her walk, her confidence, her stance, it had all changed.

“I will miss you, too,” Jordeen said, not looking at him. “Come with?” G offered.

Jordeen smiled up at him, an exercise in peace-breath and sharing, a gentleness coming from her eyes, a sharing of unspoken secrets. “I hate space travel. And, it is probably not wise for me to be cooped up in a spaceship with you,” she said, pinching his arm playfully. “I am happy here. I’ve had a reduction of symptoms. I love my students. I will carry on the work you have started.”

G kissed her forehead. “Okay.”

“I’m going to go now,” Jordeen said. She touched his cheek, almost longingly. “I’m going to put together some food and stuff to make tea, so don’t leave until I get it back to you. I want you to eat well, if only for a moment.”

“I will eat well. Freya’s got my back,” G said. “And when that lazy, piece of work, Findit finally shows up, tell him he belongs to Ten for now own, and if he doesn’t mind her, I’ll scrap him.”

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Corissa found G deliberating over a star chart so intently he didn’t even seem to hear Freya give her introduction. Corissa stood there, hands on her hip, waiting to be acknowledged. When G did look up, he seemed surprised.

“How long have you been there?” G asked.

“What kind of Jedi are you that you’re impervious to my angry stare?” Corissa demanded.

“Why are you angry?” G asked, as if just realizing she was actually angry.

“You’re leaving me?! When I heard you were prepping the Dragon’s Tooth, I had to come see for myself. This is for real? Why am I hearing this through the grapevine and not from your own mouth?” Corissa asked.

“I’m not leaving you, just Dathomir,” G said.

“I don’t see the difference,” Corissa said.

“It’s necessary for me to complete my mission,” G said. He saw no reason to tell her that her soon to be sisters were asking him to leave. It would be a distraction for her, blocking her from pathways and options.

“Your mission?!” Corissa stated sarcastically. “Which mission? The mission to chase down this illusive great evil? Your mission to kill blood-hunters? Your mission to sleep with as many alien species as possible?”

“The first one,” G said, unperturbed by her jab.

“There is no great evil. The only evil in the galaxy is the conglomerate of all the petty, bad things people do, say and think. You can’t point to one thing and blame that for all the evil in the Universe. It’s on us,” Corissa said.

“Oh, yay you. Very profound,” G applauded figuratively.

“So stay,” Corissa said.

“It’s necessary for me to leave,” G said. “I need you,” Corissa pleaded.

“Oh, I wish you had said I want you or I love you,” G said, pouting.

“So, you would have stayed if I said I love you?” Corissa asked.

“I would have considered it,” G said. “You haven’t needed me in the last five years. So I don’t see how being in space is any different than me being in the cave. You will still have the same amount of access to me, because I am in your heart. But hearing you say you ‘need’ me increases my resolve to leave if only to demonstrate to you that you don’t need me. You won’t cease to exist if I’m gone. You might actually thrive. But wanting me, loving me, well, that is choice, not coercion. And I want to be loved, not needed.”

“Coercion?! You think I’m trying to emotionally manipulate you into staying?!” Corissa said. “Tear your ass. Be gone. You’re no better than any other man I’ve ever met, so take off, enjoy your life, hope it’s fun. But don’t come crawling back here thinking I’m going to take you in.”

Corissa stormed off. G stared after her, confused.

“If you would like some tea, I would be happy to make it for you,” Freya said.

“Umm? Oh, no. Not now. Have Red close the hatch, we’ll be departing in ten minutes,” G said.

“Where are we going?” Freya asked.

G gave a gesture that just said ‘up’ and suggested ‘I don’t know’ at the same time.

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Lestelle’s stepped under the skylight of her open, door-less shower, and activated multiple jets. The warmth of the water was preset to her liking, which made her mornings easier. She turned her face towards the upper spray, washing the sleep out of her eyes. Brushing her wet hair back with her hands, squeezing it into one strand that she drug in front of her, she had a sudden, unexpected upwelling of joy. She turned her back towards one of the side jet to let it massage her back.

“Good morning, Lestelle,” G said.

Lestelle opened her eyes, saw G standing in front of her, and screamed. She caught her breath. “Damn it, G! I asked you not to pop in like that anymore.”

“No. You asked me not to spy on you. I don’t understand why this is suddenly a problem.

I’ve seen you naked, but if not popping in is a condition of our new relationship, it would be easier to know you were in the shower if I could spy on you just a little…”

Nolasco entered, weapon drawn, wearing only trousers. G turned, bowing. Lestelle escalated.

“Damn it! I am in the shower!” Lestelle shouted, only now covering her breasts. She would have had to walk past G to get her towel, but that would have just exposed herself more to her uncle.

“Good morning, uncle,” G said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Nolasco’s eyes went from his niece to his nephew then back to his niece, before social compulsion made him turned to face the other way. “Sorry. I heard you scream, and well, sorry.”

“Both of you, out, now!” Lestelle demanded.

“Come on, G,” Nolasco said. “I’ll make us something hot to drink.”

“I would like that, thank you,” G said, following him out.

“And close the door!” Lestelle yelled after them.

G waved a hand, using the Force to close the door behind him. Nolasco started a brew and then headed towards the guest room. G followed him and watched him shift through an assortment of well folded clothes till he found the shirt he wanted, a pull over that he put on in one easy motion. When his head pulled through the shirt, Nolasco was startled by how close G was standing, and had to remember G’s boundaries were pretty much nonexistent. G had the social awkwardness of someone who suffers from autism spectrum disorder and was simultaneously home schooled.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” Nolasco said, heading back to the kitchen, awkwardly going around him.

“Nope,” G said, following.

Nolasco pointed to a chair, indicating he wanted G to sit. G complied and gladly accepted the hot drink. He held the cup gently, as if the cup was fragile, momentarily holding an open palm, face down, above the cup as if he were praying over it. Satisfied, he put the same hand underneath the cup, and then sipped it.

“Why are you here?” Nolasco asked.

Before G could respond, Lestelle entered wearing a robe that fell to her mid-thigh, flaring open over the right thigh, tied tightly at the waste by a belt. She walked while towel drying her hair. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was wondering if I might take you up on your offer to come stay with you on Happes for a while,” G said.

“Now is not a good time,” Lestelle said, pointing to a cup of brew. Nolasco handed her his cup and started a new batch.

G seemed disappointed.

“What’s going on, G,” Lestelle said.

“I just thought a change in scenery might help me accomplish my mission,” G said.

“Still can’t locate your great, lurking evil?” Nolasco asked.

“Maybe it’s Snoke,” Lestelle offered. “It’s not Snoke,” G said.

“You say that with such certainty,” Nolasco said. The machine alerted him the next cup of brew was ready for consumption. He took it out and brought it to the table. He flipped the chair around backwards and sat down. “If you wanted to take out an evil, he seems like the guy.”

“Snoke is not my mission,” G said. “He is evil, arrogant, so predictable that he is fairly moronic, but not old enough."

“Have you seen a holo of him?” Lestelle asked. “He looks pretty old to me.”

“Not old enough,” G insisted. He stared into his cup as if the answer might be there. If there were any dregs waiting to be read, they lay much deeper than he was able to get to. “And too publicly visible. The person I’m looking for has to be minimally two hundred years old, incredibly intelligent, and way outside the lime light. Whoever it is, they’re playing for a longer game. Snoke is too short sighted to be anything other than a tool, like a badly planted plot contrivance.”

“That could be a clever ploy on his part,” Nolasco offered, raising his cup as if saluting to that theme.

“It’s not Snoke,” G assured them.

“Why don’t you go stay with Priya?” Lestelle asked.

“My presence might jeopardize her mission. She is straddling the fence, secretly trying to win friends with the resistance, but entertaining some First Order folks in hopes of finding a weakness she or the resistance can exploit.”

“Double agent,” Nolasco whistled. “That’s a dangerous game.”

“Her past makes it plausible that she could win allegiance with the First Order if she need to,” G said. It wouldn’t take much effort for people to imagine Priya killed her Master and his Sith Lord in an effort to move up in the world. Though she wasn’t encouraging the rumor, she wasn’t denying it, either, which, no matter which way it went, made her look all the smarter.

“You’re okay with that?” Lestelle asked. “It was her idea. She’s an adult,” G said.

“So are you. You could have taken out the super weapon before it destroyed the senate,” Lestelle said.

“That’s been pointed out to me,” G said, sighing.

“Why didn’t you?” Nolasco asked.

“It really wasn’t on my radar till after it was used,” G said.

“You were looking for a big evil and you missed that?” Lestelle asked.

G frowned, not from their questions, but because he was trying to understand it himself. He really didn’t have a complete answer, other than, had it been his mission, things would have gone much differently. He had to close his eyes and focuse, reminding himself that the pain he had experienced when those billions of sentient life forms, plus all the supporting life forms, had died was nothing more than ‘information.’ He wavered between wanting to grieve and wanting to celebrate, for those who were once alive were now one with the Force, indeed had never left the Force. The struggle he felt was no doubt due to the fact the ‘information’ of people dying translated into pain. It had been much worse than when the life on his home moon had been wiped out by a supernova. This batch of information had come with an evil taint that pursued the victims into death, making their entry into the afterlife all the more disorientating. The rays themselves had sent shockwaves through the Force that even a non-Force sensitive person could feel, so while many people looked up and saw what was coming, most people only had an awakening that something dreadful was about to occur. If the equation ever changed where the death of one felt like the death of billions, only then would the wars stop…

“Not only was it a big weapon, it had to have had technology capable of manipulating the Force. How else can you explain a weapon that can devour an entire star and turn it into lethal rays? How else can you explain that people were able to see the destruction of an entire solar system, regardless of their position in the galaxy? Even if you missed it before it fired its first shot, you couldn’t have been oblivious after the shot. You are connected to the Force. You would have felt a sun dying, you would have felt the rays traveling through space, you would have known there was battle raging. You would have felt the disturbance of a 100 billion sentient beings crying out in pain,” Nolasco said.

G had tears in his eyes as he stared into his brew. “I felt it,” G said, quietly. “I felt it all, even the death of the star.”

“And still, you didn’t take out the big gun,” Nolasco said.

“It wasn’t my mission,” G said, persisted quietly.

“Maybe we’re hammering you a little hard,” Lestelle said. “But you can’t be as powerful as you are and neutral and not expect social fall out. People are going to be seeking you out for answers. You’re going to have to do better.”

“Thank you for the lesson,” G said, sounding genuinely grateful, but quietly mourning.

He stared into the liquid in his cup, still searching for answers. He had asked these very questions to his own personal spirit guides, and none had offered him anything useful. Ben was platitudes, as always. Only Yoda had offered a kindness, touching his hand as if to communicate he understood, almost as if he had experienced similar. Remembering this act of kindness made him smile, especially followed by Nolasco’s next statement.

“So, if this great evil of yours has to be old, maybe it’s someone from Yoda’s species. He was really old, wasn’t he?” Nolasco offered.

“Or a Wookie. They live a long time,” Lestelle said, happy to be shifting the subject.

“How long do Hutts live?” Nolasco asked.

“Maybe I should go stay with Shade for a while,” G said, as he considered Hutts as a possible solution set to the great evil. “I mean, she’s not as bad as people make her out, but bad people do seek her out, and if I want to find bad, I need to at least play bad.”

“Where is she?” Nolasco asked. “Zeltros,” G said.

“That can’t be good,” Lestelle said. “How so?” G asked.

“Zeltros is so committed to hedonistic principles that not giving in to pleasure could be considered a criminal offense,” Lestelle explained. “Shade, if I recall, is a sex addict. That’s the last place she should be going.”

“Actually, it’s the opposite. The best cure for sexual addiction is over indulgence,” G said.

“That doesn’t sound right. The more I get the more I want,” Lestelle said. She blushed, realizing who she had just admitted this in front of.

“Nolasco, when were you most able to satisfy your libido?” G asked.

“Right before I got married,” Nolasco said.

“And when did the frequency decline?” G asked.

“Right after marriage,” Nolasco admitted.

“Pretty much came to a dead halt after the first child.”

“I think your sample size is too low to make a statistical conclusion,” Lestelle said, not exactly happy with what she was hearing.

“Really? It’s in all the medical literature, and certainly in any fiction you can access. You never find any good fiction with hot married couples that have been doing it for years and still going strong,” G said.

“Fiction, written by men, to entertain men,” Lestelle pointed out.

“I think G is right about this,” Nolasco said.

“Of course, because you’re both men, and both incorrigible,” Lestelle said.

“That’s not fair. I’ve changed,” Nolasco said.

“Pff, right. So, G, hypothetically, you’re saying that in order for us not to be attracted to each other, we have to get married?” Lestelle asked.

“Well, of course not,” G said.

“Then that means your premise isn’t true,” Lestelle said.

“Well, no, you just forgot to factor in that I am more likely to engage in something that is considered taboo, just because,” G said.

Lestelle put her head in her hand. She sighed. “Which, is another good reason why you shouldn’t stay with me,” Lestelle said. “And you can’t just keep popping in without warning.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to accomplish that,” G said. He met her eyes no more intently than he ever did, but she shivered none the less. “If I reach out to you telepathically, just to say your name, or alert you I’m here, or even on the way, it will be the same as if I stepped up behind you and touched your shoulder. You can’t avoid that joy which only emanates from love and peace. Nor can we undo that level of intimacy we engaged in. It’s what brought us together. When you consider how far you have advanced in your Force training with me, if you were really open and tuned into your environment, not only would you have not been startled by my arrival, the recognition of my presence would hav