#Elana Lesser | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anchanted-one · 2 years ago

Text

Legend of Lightning Chapter 50. Turning the Trap Around

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/112553413

eeeeeee! Chapter 50, everyone! I am so pleased to be here. Still a long way to go, but a milestone is a milestone.

To anyone who has read any of my work, thank you so much.

@swtorhub

Thul Palace

Gustab Williton paced the halls outside Baron Thul’s apartments. He was deeply uneasy about what had just transpired. The Baron was a powerful man, and more than capable of enacting revenge on him someday. He contemplated leaving a request with the great Darth’s secretary for a transfer once he had brought him his prize, claiming they wanted a better assignment. There were other Sith here, after all, Sith who could join the Thul war effort. Perhaps Lady Kairadwen, who had caused quite a stir among his peers during her all-too-brief visit, might be persuaded to return.

He had spent every free second at the gates, hoping to catch her as she passed by… only to be disappointed.

Still, he didn’t want her on a world that he was leaving! Perhaps his next assignment could be… wherever hers was! Perhaps he could request an assignment to Darth Baras’ operation.

Yes, that was a splendid idea. There were many other Sith who could take over.

Eklarie pulled him into a side room and leered at him. “Decicred for your thoughts, my little pup.”

“I want this done with,” he partially admitted his real thoughts. “I don’t like being part of a great Darth’s schemes. They use you, then they toss you.”

“Wise words, my dollie,” she raised her scarred face to his. He returned her kiss passionately. He loved Eklarie. She was not the most beautiful Sith in the galaxy, but she was far more loyal, as both partner and lover. Dependable, though she was normally taciturn. He wanted to marry her as soon as he could, to start accruing power and status so they could found a House together.

“It’s not just Angral,” he said reluctantly. “Baron Thul is a dangerous man. For Sith like us, at least.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I’ve been thinking of the same thing.” Her face soured. “We’re shite excuse for Sith, aren’t we?”

“We’re not aiming to be Darths, after all. We just want to be retainers.”

“Thinking about Lady Rooks, again? You should give it up. Half the Academy was foaming at the mouth after she duelled Darth Malgus on Ziost. She has more requests than even them Darths, I’d wager. It’s easier to get in good with some of the lesser Sith. I heard Darth Zash might be building up her power base.”

“Zash…” Gustab thought about that idea for a long moment. “What about the other major Houses?”

“Major Houses? Us? We’re bottom feeders here, pup! Even most Thuls don’t respect us!”

“All the more reason to run.”

“Want me to put in the request?”

“Yes, please!” Gustab felt relieved. It was really good to have her do the paperwork. He was far too slow with such things. He thought about Lady Elana, languishing in the shuttle’s belly. He knew she was in for a rough life, if the Baron didn’t come through. He felt a bit sorry for her, but what could you do? Angral was not someone you went up against. Not if you were one of them Darths on the Council.

“There, that’s done!” Eklarie said happily.

“Already?”

She winked, mischief making her face a match for any Dromund Kaas idol. “I had most of this ready before we even took off.”

“You, my muffin, are a real treasure,” he said happily, and she gave a growl of a laugh in response.

“Take me now, puppy. Remind me of that first time we made love together, in Overseer Harkun’s bed!”

He moved to comply, tugging off her cloak and pauldrons… when they were interrupted by a servant.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Dark Lords. Baron Thul has returned.”

“Already? That was bloody fast!”

“Guess that Jedi really is a softie!”

Eklarie hurriedly straightened her robes as they half-ran to the baron’s personal landing pad.

They waited with bated breath as the ramp opened, and out marched the wolf himself, leading the disgusting-looking alien.

“Would you look at that, muffin? It’s mewling like a lost calf!”

“Yes,” Eklarie shook with suppressed laughter. “Filthy alien.” She marched up to the thing and spat in its face. The baron slapped her so hard, she fell to the floor.

“He is my prisoner for the time being,” he said sternly. “You remember how I treat my prisoners, don’t you? If you want to show him any disrespect, do so after we’ve made the transfer.”

Eklarie stood up and saluted lamely. “Yes, Baron, sir!”

“Where is Elana?”

“She is inside the shuttle, Your Highness,” Gustab replied.

“Is it in your authority to release her, now that we have the prisoner?”

“No, sir. We have to wait until Angral’s satisfied.”

A vein throbbed in the man’s temple. He looked like he desperately wanted to argue, but didn’t. Gustab almost breathed a sigh of relief. He did not want to oppose the man again, anytime soon.

“Let’s get on with this, then,” the baron grumbled. “Are we to be taken to Darth Angral’s ship?”

“I don’t know, Your Highness. His shuttle, his men.”

“Fine. Let us board, then. But at least allow Elana to travel with me, rather than in the brig.”

“I—I’ll see what we can do, Your Highness.”

As it happened, securing her semi-release was a simple enough thing. There was nothing they could do, now that they were en route. The duke comforted her with assurances of safety, but Gustab wondered why he would do something so reckless as give a false promise like this. He had zero control over what was to come.

The Jedi was locked inside the cell, shooting dangerous glances at his captors, who all jeered and mocked him.

They were Sith, of course. Of higher standing than Gustab, but not by much. Underlings and minions of the great Darth. He recognized FimmRess, who had long served as Duke Kendoh’s bodyguard.

“Just look at that Jedi, boys!” he roared. “Shaking in its boots!”

“Like a little bantha cub!”

“Not much of a threat, is it?”

“If it’s scared now, just wait until Angral gets his mitts on it!”

At the mention of Angral’s name, it was as if a mask slipped off the Jedi’s face for a moment. There was no fear there, only a contempt deeper than the spice mines of Kessel. But Gustab blinked, and it was gone. For a brief moment, he had a bad feeling—then he heard a girl’s voice whisper into his ear “You will forget what you just saw.”

“I… will… forget…”

Somewhere on Alderaan

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jharkus demanded. “We’re not even leaving Alderaan?”

“I thought you’d be happy,” the pilot drawled. “You don’t have to meet Angral in person. Of course we’re not rendezvousing with his ship! We’re meeting up with Lord Nefarid! He will send you on our way.”

“Nefarid?” Jharkus rolled the name in his head in disgust. “The man who killed Duke Horis.”

“The same,” one of the Sith entering the cockpit grinned. “You Thuls and your petty ambitions mean nothing to us, if you don’t give us Alderaan. And he was willing to call off the war entirely. But you’re different, aren’t you? A real warrior! Cooperate, and you won’t face the same fate as him.”

No doubt it was meant to cow Jharkus, but all it did was strengthen his resentment.

He wondered what would happen now. If he and the boy were separated… This would all be for naught. Well, his Family would certainly be saved if Vajra was safely handed over, but there would be no retribution of any kind.

Lost in his thoughts, Jharkus only realized they’d landed when the pilot turned and grinned. “End of the line. For some of you, at least. But how many?”

Jharkus gave him a frosty stare until he flinched. “You think you’re clever and intimidating, but you’re not. To be truly strong, you need to be able to threaten people under your own banner. Stop trying to borrow your Master’s notoriety.”

Lord Nefarid waited with eager anticipation for his guests to arrive. He swirled the cherries in his cocktail, humming the happiest tune to himself. It had only been a few days ago, when he captured that meddlesome Jedi Master. To think he now had the Padawan too… oh, happy day!

“Orgus Din thoroughly managed to spoil my fun by destroying those antennae,” he railed, repeating the same line for the third time this week, just in case his Master’s spies were listening. “The gall! What right does he have to spoil my fun? Isn’t that right, Alayna dear?” He sniffed in annoyance. “Hmm. And I thought you were poor company before I freed you.”

The flayed corpse of his minion stared back mutely, unable to answer. It simply floated in the case he’d stuck it inside, which arrested her putrefaction.

“I will be made Darth for this, you mark my words! Angral will thank me for being the only one of his Apprentices capable of dealing with the thorn in his side!” He turned towards the door as they yawned, and in walked the Sith minions whose names he hadn’t bothered to memorize. In their midst was the Jedi himself, as hideous as he was weak. His own lackeys looked up from their work to see the procession.

Behind him was the man known as the Wolf Baron, and he exuded anger in every breath he took. Good. The Sith in him approved of that anger. It could be used when focused. The man had spine and ability, by all accounts, but he was too caught up in meaningless tripe like honor.

“Ah, welcome, Jedi! I was just telling Alayna how happy I was to have you as my guest.”

The Jedi looked at the body next to Nefarid’s throne and sighed. “You’re not a very imaginative Sith, are you? I bet you do this to try and appear mighty and dangerous. An inherited trait, no doubt.”

Nefarid chuckled. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to intimidate you. I just happen to like this woman. She made the most exquisite faces as I killed her. The horror, the pain, the sense of hope as I promised her a second chance!” Nefarid’s laughter boomed throughout the lair.

“Right, you’re just as sick a thug as Sadic,” the alien shook its head. “Where’s Angral? Or is he too scared to show up?”

The Sith around him reared in outrage, but Nefarid waved them back. “What does it matter? We have you. I have orders to hand you over to him once I’ve thoroughly tortured you into submission. My Lord does not like exerting his strength to quash every little bug.”

“If I’m a bug, what is Tarnis? And what are Sadic and Praven, whom I beat so easily? Come, come, Nefarid. You know, don’t you? Angral is past his glory years. That is why you seek to replace him, someday. In fact—” the Jedi straightened up. “Angral isn’t staying away because of just me, is he? He doesn’t want to be near this world so long as the Death Mark is here too. He knows you can kill him, if you happen to have it operational.”

Nefarid was now staring at the boy. “I think it’s better to deliver you to my Master in pieces. Cut off his hands and legs!”

The boy sprang into motion, though he wasn’t the only one. The Wolf Baron threw one of the Sith over his shoulder and pulled his blaster from his belt. One of the Sith attempted to stab the alien, but it evaded him and broke her arms. As she fell to the ground screaming, the boy ignited her Lightsaber and attacked his captors. All eight of them.

Nefarid was alarmed by his skill. That level of swordsmanship was far beyond his capabilities! It was good that he had his trump card.

His hands went for his belt—only to find the device missing. What? I could have sworn that—

Using the Death Mark would be confirmation that he had gotten it working again, and had indeed been hoping to kill Darth Angral with it when he turned over Orgus Din. But there was no secret that couldn’t be kept by killing all witnesses!

“Where is it? Where is it?” he feverishly hurled aside all the tools and books on his desk searching for the targeting device, but couldn’t find it. “I could have sworn…” He quickly looked over at all the places he could think of, where he might have left it, only to be disappointed. Of all the rotten luck!

He looked up to find his own guards had joined the fracas, but it was going badly. The Jedi’s blur of a blade had already killed more than half his opposition, and the baron’s blaster had shot down all of the regulars. With only three guards left fighting, Nefarid had to make a decision.

“Confound it all!” He moved to cloak himself. He still had that, at least! And he had tricked even the great Master Orgus with it—

His scream filled his ears. Right after he had blended in with his surroundings, a small, focused beam of red light had shone down on his foot, leaving a hole about the size of his thumb. “IMPOSSIBLE!” As he cursed and stumbled, he thought he heard a girl giggle.

Jharkus was nonplussed by the Sith Nefarid’s loud scream of pain. What could have happened? His inattention would have normally gotten him killed, but the Jedi was fighting the last of his enemies, one of Nefarid’s dogs, whom he had never seen before.

There was a pile of bodies around them, dead Sith who had thought they had a wounded vorn tiger cub, when instead they were looking at bait. They had dropped their pride easily enough. That one called FimmRess had soiled himself when he realized he was outmatched, but had been killed before he could surrender.

“What happened?” Baron Thul asked his temporary ally, who grinned.

“Come out, Kira.”

The baron jumped as a redheaded girl materialized out of thin air, holding some small device in her hand. “I was certain you could dodge that, boss. But I didn’t want to take that wager.”

“I owe you one. You made the right call,” the alien told her, before turning back to Jharkus. “I had expected you to demand my surrender in exchange for the prisoners. I wanted an ace up my sleeve in case Angral asked you to turn me over to him.”

“You’re no fool, I see.”

“Hardly, Angral is just that predictable.” He snorted. “Now. Is that fool of a Sith awake?”

The woman called Kira slapped the man’s face lightly, then shook him hard until he woke. He groaned, trying to cradle his foot, which Jharkus now saw had a huge smoking hole in it.

“Where is your Master?” the boy asked.

“I don’t know,” Nefarid whimpered. “I was supposed to call him when you’d been beaten into submission. He would have sent another shuttle for you—”

“How typical,” the Jedi groaned. “Can you at least tell me how to reach him? A message, perhaps?”

The Sith squealed like a stuck-up brat getting his first taste of consequences.

“Wait, it doesn’t matter,” the boy shook his head. “The message I have, is one I want the entire galaxy to hear.” He walked up to the man’s holoterminal and hit transmit.

“What is the meaning of this, ‘Darth’ Angral?” He asked the camera, stressing on the title as though it was the punchline a poor joke. “I was handed to you on a silver platter, but you were too scared to show up and collect me! I thought you wanted revenge for your son? Is this all your rage is worth? Some might call you cautious, but I am starting to see what my Master meant when he called you a coward. You’re so afraid of dying, you won’t even face a teenager! All you can do is act tough in the depths of the cesspit you call your stronghold. You know, don’t you? That if you face me in combat, you will be beaten so badly, all your legends and myths will be replaced by mocking tales of Darth Angral the pitiful. You want to prove me wrong? Come to Alderaan and face me. Show the galaxy how a Darth marches to his death… but what am I saying?” He laughed scornfully. “You’d never do something that reckless! Because you’re a weakling, and a coward, too scared to crawl past the event that left you traumatized all those years ago. So, by all means! Continue to hide in your own trash. I will rip you screaming and weeping from your presumed fortress, and show the galaxy the caliber of man you’re not. Farewell, false Darth.”

With that, he destroyed the terminal. The woman clucked her tongue. “You don’t think that was a bit much, boss? We both know he’s a coward, but he’s also a slave to his own emotions. He’s gonna try and hurt you by striking at soft targets.”

“I didn’t think of that,” the boy looked a bit sheepish. “I just want this to be done!”

“A word of advice, Jedi,” Jharkus said. “Take it from a Thul; we spent decades before we finally got our chance. Just because a confrontation, or any event, seems inevitable or destined, doesn’t mean it won’t take a lifetime to come to fruition. Don’t try to rush things just because you’re eager to make it end. The Great War is another example; your Grand Master fought Malgus again and again, but it only ever led to fat nothings. You might think yourself Angral’s nemesis—or any big Sith’s—but that doesn’t mean your clash will arrive just because you wound their pride.”

The Jedi heard all he had to say, then nodded with a heartfelt sigh. “I know, I know. I’m not that stupid. But I am hoping that Angral is. Or that he’s blinded by my provocation.”

“If only it were that simple.”

Elana stirred. “Uncle… did you seriously have all this planned? How? When?”

Jharkus made a gesture telling her to slow down. “As much as I love to take credit for this, it was all the Jedi’s idea. I was too shaken to properly make the threat, and he noticed it. He took pity on me, on us, and offered to help me rescue you. I suppose there is no shortage of good men in the galaxy.”

“Getting to Nefarid was a bonus,” the boy smiled. “Not as big as finally stopping Angral, but I’m happy this last weapon is back in our hands. Kira, can you blow it up?”

The woman nodded. “Easily. The satellite comes with a remote self-destruct, just in case. The Death Mark laser is about to become scrap.”

“Target the equipment first,” the Jedi ordered. “Not a single byte of data must be recoverable after we’re done.”

“Got it.”

“We’ll be taking Nefarid, if it’s okay with you,” the boy said. “And destroying this compound.”

“You won’t catch me arguing. I’ll take the shuttle back to Thul palace, and order your civilians’ immediate release. I’ll also hand the duke’s body back to the Organas. I’ll go personally.”

Elana shivered, tears appearing in her eyes. “The poor, poor duke! He tried to help me.” She looked at the Jedi. “When Angral looked at me, he stood in between us, as if hoping that could make him forget about me. He offered to take my place as hostage. What kind of galaxy do we live in, when that kind of man is killed so miserably, when wretches like Angral are left untouched?”

The Jedi gave her a long, sorry look. “I’m sorry for your anguish,” he said. “I’m sorry for all the innocents and the good who are dying in this war. It’s why I want to ki—to stop Angral as soon as I can. I know that the longer this goes on, the more people die at his grubby hands.”

Elana sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I don’t blame you. You are barely more than a child, and you are still—” She wiped her face, then gave him a look filled with fire and determination. “I’m done with the Sith. It may take me a lifetime, but I swear I will extricate myself and my family from their mad Magocracy.”

“I wish you well in that endeavour.”

As Jharkus led Elana out, he began speaking to her. “That was a bold declaration, child. It will take time to build up the strength needed to bear it. I hope you survive those years.”

“I hope you will teach me, Uncle.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, child. Duke Organa was my responsibility. I must answer for his death, and his body’s desecration.”

She looked at him with eyes full of distress, but he talked over her.

“Don’t give me that look; if I don’t do this, any lesson I give you is worthless. Remember who I am. Not the Wolf, but the Baron.”

“Honor, fidelity, integrity,” she looked on the edge of tears again.

“That’s right. How can I pretend to be any of that, if I don’t give myself up to the Organas?” he shook hhis head. “No. I must do this.”

Elana held back her tears, she simply nodded. She gave him a fierce smile. “I should have expected no less, my dearest Uncle.”

“When I saw your potential, I knew you deserved to be my heir. I hoped I’d have time to teach you all I knew. Alas, I only had a few days. But I do think you received a crash course. Not just from me, but Duke Charle as well. Remember him, and remember me. His compassion, his courage, my honor, my integrity. Those are what it takes to be a great ruler.”

“I will try, Uncle. And I swear, that when I am done, House Thul will no longer be beholden to those pigs in the Empire!”

“Good. Take it one step at a time until you’re good and ready. But when you are, do not hesitate. I have faith, that you will emerge triumphant.”

Aboard the Oppressor

Darth Angral, the second-greatest Sith of the era, breathed so heavily that spittle flew from his snarling lips. Sweat poured down his furrowed brow, and his ignited Lightsaber trembled in his clenched fist.

Several of his trusted servants lay dead around him, including Admiral Hacklin.

The alien’s provocation had struck home, had left him eager to meet his enemy head-on. But his servants had gotten in his way, and he had cut them down in his fury.

Hacklin’s last words had been of disbelief. “In the end, this is all your friendship is worth, my Lord?” But Angral could not care.

“You… you got in my way! You…” He turned to his bridge. “Set course for Alderaan. Now!”

“We can’t, Dark Lord!” the helmsman whimpered. “Admiral Hacklin locked the controls before he died. We need to perform a full system reset, and that will take four weeks!” He was silenced by Angral’s Lightsaber entering his gut.

“GET US UNDERWAY!” He howled.

“You can kill them all, if it makes you happy,” the holo on his left said snidely. “But then you’ll be stuck here… forever. Even the Force can’t help you run a ship this size, by yourself. Not that it was ever your servant. Nepotism was all that got you where you are today. Besides, didn’t you hear your helmsman? Your ship is locked!”

“Shut your trap, Malgus!”

The Sith on the other end just laughed. “Touchy, touchy! Is that how you beg someone for help?”

“I am not begging!”

“You should be!” Malgus gloated. “The Jedi’s words were so accurate, he might have been trained to be a Black Requiem Sniper! You are weak, you are pathetic, and now the whole galaxy has heard it! Because you have lost the strongest pillars of your power base. Praven, Nefarid, Sadic. Because you fight from the most secure portion of the back lines. Because you are afraid of your own Apprentices. And because you allowed a fifteen-year-old to challenge you, and could not respond.”

“You’ve had your fun, Malgus. Ease off.” Darth Barras was ever a thorn in Angral’s backside, so he wasn’t calling off Malgus out of any goodwill. “You know that you can’t attack him directly, don’t you? You need to finish constructing the Desolator. That is the Emperor’s decree.”

“What do you have to gain from my victory, Baras?”

“Other than the annihilation of our enemies? Nothing. But it occurs to me, that if a Darth such as yourself fails while all eyes are upon you, it’s a blow to the authority of us all. Watch your back, Angral. Try not to die until you’ve served your limited purpose. Remember; the Emperor won’t stop you this time.”

“Good. Good. Every Jedi in the Galaxy will die. And that boy… his death will be slow, painful, and above all, satisfying.”

“More promises, as usual,” Malgus sighed. “You no longer have capable servants to throw at your problems. Do not forget that all of your victories in the war were because of me. I handed you Coruscant and Korriban. I broke through Alderaan and Balmorra. Now, you are all alone. You may be a coward and a blowhard, but try to learn some self-awareness, even this late in your life. You will not win by playing at being a true Sith. Finish your project, then attack from the cover of darkness. Try to shiver as you do it. That is your path to victory."

"Despite his taunts, that is actually sound advice, cowardly one,” Barras laughed heartily. “I suggest you get back to it. Oh, and don’t expect replacements for the officers you’ve just slain. The Empire is supposed to have washed its hands of you, remember? Do not call us again, until you have your prototype ready.”

Both holos disappeared, and Angral was left to continue his fuming. Around him, his hapless crew barely breathed as they waited for the shoe to fall. More than one pair of trousers had been drenched, but no one dared try to leave the bridge. All they could do, was hope their Lord calmed down. And soon.

“Perform that full reset,” Angral said hoarsely. “I will be in my chambers.” He turned on his heel and walked out. As one, his crew breathed a sigh of relief.

Organa Castle

Vajra called Major Var Suthra immediately after informing the Organas of what had transpired. He only had to wait a couple of minutes before he was put through.

“Well done, Master Jedi! With this, the last remaining project has been kept out of Angral’s hands!”

“Our info was wrong. He had the laser working the whole time. The only reason why you didn’t see mass murder and mayhem run loose on Alderaan, was because Nefarid had hoped to use it on Angral.”

“To think that Alayna Hark managed to get him enough information for him to replace that antenna so quickly…”

“Enemy espionage showed its skill every step of the way. I’ll repeat what I said before; invest in security before you go for weapons.”

“Given my failures, I have no choice but to take that to heart. This has been… a humbling experience.”

“What will you do now?”

“I will have to submit all of my files to an oversight committee and prepare to be judged. Thankfully, the task has been taken on by Supreme Commander Rans himself. He worries that a Senator might try to steal some of the information.”

“And leave us back in square one.”

“Exactly. I will be evaluated for having allowed so many, many security breaches, as well as the unethical projects like the Power Guard. If I’m lucky, I will be allowed to continue serving at my present rank. If I’m unlucky, I might be dishonorably discharged. Worst case scenario, I might face imprisonment.”

“I can advocate for you—”

“No need, Master Jedi. I will face the consequences of my actions and failures.”

“I see. Good luck to you then.”

“What about you? What’s next for the triumphant hero?”

“I have been asked to receive Duke Organa’s body and Baron Thul’s surrender, in my capacity as Paladin. I will also be leading the funeral proceedings tomorrow.”

“A real honor. One you most definitely deserve.”

“Thank you for saying so, Major.”

“One thing’s for sure; my part may be over, but yours is not. Not until you’ve stopped Angral himself. I will continue to follow your career with great interest. Var Suthra out.”

Kira stretched out like a cat once the transmission had ended, and sprawled onto the sofa. “Maaan, that feels great! I think I need to order myself something cool. Staying cloaked for that long was a little taxing.”

“You did splendidly, Kira. You saved my life, too. And gave Nefarid the shock of his life! Did you manage to record it?”

She pointed at her belt, which was hanging from a chair several meters away. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“The Master orders…”

“Screw you. Just this once, I’m pretending we’re not Master and Padawan. Are you gonna take that from me?"

"I guess not. Want me to massage your forehead?"

"My shoulders and feet, too. Thanks. You’re a good kid.”

#star wars #the old republic #star wars the old republic #swtor #fanfic #fanfiction #jedi knight #hero of tython #swtorhub

12 notes · View notes