seriousfic

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Buffy woke up the same way she had awoken for the past cycle. Her heart hammered like it was trying to break free. Her skin was thick with sweat. Her breath came in short, hard gasps.

A nightmare. Or something like it.

Knowing from bitter experience she wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, Buffy threw a Jedi robe over her pajamas and belted it shut. Careful not to awaken Satsu or another member of her Padawan class, she walked out of the sleep chamber.

She’d been having the dreams—Buffy couldn’t bring herself to call them nightmares, no matter how frightening they were—since she’d passed the Trials. She still hadn’t found an apartment; the Jedi Temple was booked solid. She wasn’t sure what the point was. Jedi kept their rooms spartan so others could live there while they were on assignment. Buffy could never call a place like that home.

The hallway she sought soared up several levels, each with balconies opening into its shade. The other side was open to the night, letting its cool breeze sooth Buffy like a mother’s touch. It was her favorite place in the Temple, especially when she could be alone. She didn’t know if it was the Force, but looking out at the city, something spoke to her. And it told her everything would be alright.

The Temple was never silent. Not all species kept the same sleep-hours as humans and they worked as tirelessly as their dayside counterparts. But it was quiet. The lights of Coruscant twinkled as if in contest with the stars and far in the distance, the entertainment district pulsed with light. Its nightclub music drifted along on the wind. She wondered what it was like for the people she protected, living their lives free of responsibility. What was it like to be just… a girl?

“Serene, isn’t it?” Jedi Master Gile Zz’purt said in his dulcet tone. An Ithorian, his dual voice boxes gave him a surprisingly clarion singing voice. “A republic flush with a thousand years of peace. And it’s up to us to see they enjoy a thousand more.”

“I’m only good for twenty, tops. After that, they are on their own.”

Gile vibrated with overlapping laughter. “Every little bit helps. But I don’t think it’s the future of the Republic that unsettles you.”

“Why should it? Nothing can take the Republic. Me, on the other hand…”

“Another dream?” Gile asked, pulling up a wicker chair.

“The same dream.” Buffy leaned against the balustrade, catching another snippet of blasting nightclub music. “It’s like she’s reaching out to me.”

“The Dark Side takes many forms,” Gile counseled. “A Jedi must be prepared for all of them.”

“But if this is the Dark Side, how does it feel so… right?”

Gile patted her on the shoulder. “I’m not really meant to tell you this, but the Council has found you a mission. One which I think will suit your skills perfectly. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Buffy, you needn’t call me that anymore.”

“But I can?”

“You may.”

Buffy went back to meditate until mornings, knowing whatever sleep she got would be invaded by the dark woman with the sultry lips and the sad eyes. The woman who’d split her in half by being one half of her. Her chosen one. But chosen for what?

BUFFY THE JEDI KNIGHT
EPISODE I
THE SITH SEDUCTION

IT IS THE GOLDEN AGE OF THE REPUBLIC. UNDER THE WISE STEWARTSHIP OF THE SENATE AND THE PROTECTION OF THE JEDI ORDER, THE CITIZENRY OF THE GALAXY FLOURISHES. THE EVIL OF THE SITH HAS LONG SINCE BEEN VANQUISHED.

BUT ALL IS NOT WELL AMONG THE STARS. THOSE WHO VALUE POWER ABOVE ALL ELSE SEEK THE TEACHINGS OF THE DARK SIDE ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF CIVILIZATION. NOVICE JEDI BUFFY SUMMERS IS DISPATCHED TO INVESTIGATE THESE WHISPERS OF DARKNESS.

HER JOURNEY TAKES HER DEEP INTO THE OUTER RIM, TO THE CRIME PLANET NAR JADICA, WHERE SHE WILL FACE HER DESTINY…

Buffy felt the Force like a kid would tongue a loose tooth, or more accurately, like an adolescent would explore her changing body. Ever since she’d completed the Trials, she’d felt so much more attuned to the Living Force. Even in the dead of space she could feel it all around her, reflecting her own life energy back at her in accepting symphony.

Her astromech droid, a squat little ‘bot named T4-R4, whistled, alerting her to the world they were approaching. She’d already felt it. It had the chill of the Dark Side about it.

“Relax, Tar, I’m sure any black market droid dealers would know you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

T4-R4 played the sound of a turbolaser battery charging up. T4-R4 had a library of sound effects from a previous stint in a droid acting troupe. Since Buffy had no ear for droid language, such as it was, they’d worked out their own pidgin language.

“Nar Jadica, this is Buffy Summers, Jedi Knight, here on official Republic business. Please make ready a landing bay.”

Nar Jadica remained silent and implacable, as if the Dark Side were gagging it. But that was silly Padawan talk. She was a Jedi now, and had to act worthy of the respect and admiration given her.

Hutt defense grids held Nar Jadica firmly with fortress satellites as the fingers. One of them opened up to let out a wolf pack of Corsair-class snubfighters, more suited to raids than defense. T4-R4 raised the shield as Buffy opened herself fully to the Force. “They’re throwing a party and they haven’t invited us. Looks like we’ll have to crash.”

T4-R4 made a worried noise at the double entendre.

Buffy’s T-wing was a thing of beauty, basically one big rocket with wings and a cockpit at the front. The long fuselage meant it had lots of room for extras, like a tank of nitr powder that could be mixed into the engine intake. So as soon as the snubfighters entered each others’ firing range, the Corsairs fired torps and Buffy hit the afterburner. She flew past the torps before their AI had time to correct course, then lashed out with the laser casters on her wingtips. What they lacked in power, they made up for in firing rate. As the T-wing whirled between enemy fire, a near-continuous stream of energy poured from its wings into the lead Corsair. In an instant, the shields failed and a set of blaster bolts lit up the atmosphere in the cockpit. The Corsairs got out of Buffy’s way in the nick of time.

It’d been an impressive performance, but the T-wing couldn’t keep it up for long. Buffy had nearly burnt out the laser casters. Five encores were not on the playbill.

“T4-R4, plot us an escape vector, get us the hell out of here!”

T4-R4 played a snippet of a computer powering up, letting Buffy know she was already on it. Then a turbolaser scraped the fuselage. The battle satellites were firing on her—all of them! Who ever heard of Hutts working together?

“Let me guess, we lost hyperdrive?”

A mournful trumpet played from T4-R4, turning into the high-pitched squeal when the ship rocked with blaster fire. The Corsairs had regrouped.

“Alright, we know their blasters work.” Buffy pushed the yoke down as far as it would go. “Let’s see how they handle atmo.”

The polluted brown of Nar Jadica filled the windshield. T4-R4 played an executioner’s drumbeat and sprayed the cockpit with coolant as re-entry began to burn them.

“Stop being so pessimistic. It’s bad for the heart.” Buffy looked over her shoulder to see that the Corsairs were still on her, their wings now swept behind them like death-hawks hunting rats. “Okay, they can do atmo. But not as good as me.”

In space, the lack of friction meant you could shoot in one direction while flying in another, if you weren’t worried about someone vaping you while you flew in a straight line at a steady speed. In atmo, it was impossible. So it came as something of a surprise when Buffy cut her engines, spun her ship around, and steadied it with the Force so she was freefalling backwards. She uppercut with proton torpedoes, punching through the friction-weakened shields of the lead fighter. The other Corsairs couldn’t react, locked in by re-entry. What followed could best be described as a pile-up. Re-entry took care of the rest.

Buffy turned the T-wing around and powered up the engines. “See T4-R4? Nothing to worry about.”

A barrel-thick turbolaser bolt overshot them and hit the ground. There was a mushroom cloud.

“Except that.”

T4-R4 played a scream from one of those holos about Sith Lords stalking dumb teenagers.

Buffy pulled up hard and they skimmed the top of the rising cloud. Turbolasers were falling like rain and even as Buffy dodged them, the blast-waves taxed the shields. She spared a glance to the ground. The Hutts had utterly strip-mined it, even sucking up the fertile soil in their greed. All that was left was burnt earth and tree stumps. And deep crevasses from over-mining.

Buffy dove into one of the canyons. The buffeting stopped. Now all she had to worry about was the deadly death-lasers themselves.

Battle satellites were being repositioned to rain more fire on her. Buffy felt the storm blot out the sun and knew this was it, this was where she became one of those Jedis Padawans tried to summon for séances. ‘You died on your first assignment? What, did you win your lightsaber on a quiz show?’

Then she saw an explosion light up the mouth of a cave. She screwed her T-wing toward it, making even the ferrosteel beg for mercy, and flew down its throat just as the entire parsec was leveled.

“Looks like the Force is my home boy,” Buffy noted smugly for T4-R4’s benefit.

That would be when falling stalactites snapped off both wings.

One thing they should’ve taught Buffy at Jedi Academy: The Force has a sick sense of humor.

***

Buffy was floating over the ground. This was it. She was dead and the Padawans were séancing her ghost-y self so they could make fun of her.

She opened her eyes. The afterlife was a lot less blue than she would’ve expected. She looked around to see that T4-R4 was dragging her on a makeshift gurney, which meant she was either still alive or every major religion was way off.

“T4-R4, where’s my ship?”

T4-R4 made the sound of a trash compactor shutting.

“That bad, huh? At least they’ve stopped the bombardment. What all did you scavenge?”

T4-R4 whistled to indicate the repulsorlift full of supplies it was pushing. Buffy got up, minding her head, and pulled her Jedi robes on over her dark green flight suit. Safe, no, confident, no, but fashion-conscious, always.

Remembering her training, she gave a brief minute over to meditation. Her body was bruised but otherwise undamaged, there was no sense of pursuit, and she felt life within walking distance.

“Come on, T4-R4.” She took on some of the droid’s burden. “We’ve got a date with the Hutts, and they’re paying.”

***

After an hour of walking, Buffy found herself at a camp of Gamorrean debtors. They were panning for iridium. Buffy got a ride to town in exchange for the location of her crash.

Jo-Df had been a hub for various mines, but when they dried up, it became a ghost town. Not wanting to lose money on the lucrative cantina, Zirgo the Hutt had made it a landing field. The comings and goings of not-reliably-sober pilots wreaked havoc with the town, but as long as the cantina was standing, no one could bring themselves to care.

Buffy walked the cantina from the outside, casually memorizing the defenses and exits. As she watched, a Gran was thrown out, shot in the head, then had a Sabacc deck thrown on his corpse. Cheaters never prosper.

“Hey, hey Jedi!” Buffy didn’t turn, but she did reach out with the Force. Three antisocial drinkers, armed to deal with claim-jumpers, if Krayt dragons started jumping claims.

Putting on a big smile, Buffy turned around. “Hi, I’m Buffy, I’ll be your Jedi today. How can the Force help you today?”

Unprepared for bubbly customer service, the head miner sputtered “Jedi Knight—my brother—murdered!”

“A clear miscarriage of justice. I’ll alert the Jedi Council immediately.” She ran-walked toward the cantina. Within arm’s reach of the doorway, the miners’ brains managed to sound an alarm through their heavy inebriation. They unslung their blaster rifles.

Buffy reached out with the Force and took hold of the rigged Sabacc deck. She levitated them warningly. The miners laughed. Buffy might’ve joined them, but once, on a rescue mission to Praxis Prime with Master Gile Zz’purt, she’d seen the aftermath of a hypercane. Its winds had gotten a drinking straw going so really fast that it had penetrated a pane of transparisteel.

Buffy made the Sabacc cards go so really fast.

The miners went down, leaking blood from deep but nonfatal cuts. Buffy noted with satisfaction that one of the cards had sheared right through a gunbarrel.

“Looks like Lady Luck just gave you the finger,” she said on her way in the bar.

Once, it had been a holo-bar. Disembodied repulsortrays carried orders, giving the illusion they were being carried by anything from holo-stars to popular Jedi. For a price, the holo-waiters could look like anyone the customer ordered. For a higher price, they could share the ‘full experience’ in an immersion room.

But the cantina had fallen on hard times. The repulsortrays wobbled, spilling enough to turn the floor into flypaper. The holo-waitresses flickered from singing sensations to brutish shockball champions, still wearing the same lingerie. And the clientele had definitely gone downhill.

Buffy walked across the glowing floor of white projector-tiles, half of which were dark, to confront the six-armed Widonian mixing drinks. “I’m looking for a pilot. The money’s good and the job’s easy.”

“Unless he’s at the bottom of a bottle, can’t help you.”

Buffy pulled back her robe to show the lightsaber clipped to her belt. “You know what this makes me?”

“Either a Jedi or someone who killed a Jedi.”

“Either way, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

“You have a bad side, blonde saber-slinger?”

An arm wrapped around Buffy’s waist. Buffy tried to shove the stranger away, but there was a real power in her grip. It was as sexually charged as any leering male, but there was no hostility in the hold. Buffy looked over to see it was a woman, a Twi’lek with skin of a sensuous red tint and a metallic cortosis-weave vest over her black tanktop, which was half-tucked into her Krayt dragon leather pants.

“Hey Sal, how ‘bout a drink for my new friend?” The Twi’lek turned to Buffy. “You keep spouting off like that, you might as well be drunk enough to excuse it.”

“Let go of me,” Buffy whispered, breathless with horror as an intricately-tattooed lekku, a brain-tail, placed itself familiarly on her shoulder.

“Free advice, Padawan. Lotta people don’t like to mix business with Jedis. Never flash a saber unless you’re gonna use it. Now sit down and have a drink before half the bar lines up to kill you.”

The Twi’lek let go of her just as the bartender brought a cup of something bubbling.

“Pay the man,” the Twi’lek said before disappearing into the back. Buffy disgruntledly counted out the right change and slapped it down on the bar. She followed the Twi’lek to a booth where one of the few holo-waitresses in working order was dancing on the table. Buffy doubted Master Shaak Ti would appreciate the Twi’lek’s taste in dance.

“I’m not a Padawan,” Buffy said, realizing as she slid in across from the Twi’lek how petulant it sounded.

“Then stop acting like one. I suppose you’re the Jedi who got blown out of the sky this afternoon. What do they teach at the Academy these days?”

Buffy resented being talked down to be a woman who could only have a few years on her, if that. Although Buffy had to admit she looked older, it was more the contrast of her own fresh-faced optimism to the Twi’lek’s world-weary cynicism.

“So, who died and appointed you to the Jedi Council?”

“I don’t take marching orders from some bacteria. I work for myself and whoever’s got the money to hire me.” She dunked her shotglass in the pitcher and knocked back what she came up with. “So, want me working under you?”

Buffy felt herself blushing, but she didn’t know why. “Do you take Republic credits?”

“That where we’re going? Meh. Corellian Ale’s Corellian Ale, no matter how you pay for it.” She poured Buffy a glass. “Speaking of, drink up, you’re embarrassing me.”

Challengingly glaring at the Twi’lek the whole time, Buffy knocked back the shot. She only coughed a little.

“And that’s why they call it a girly drink.”

“What’s your name?”

“Fathienelle Lehane. Most folks call me Faith. Or ‘that bitch’. You?”

“Buffy Summers.”

“That’s a funny name… Summers. Let’s go, this place was getting dull anyway.” She ran a hand through the hologram of Shaak Ti, which was doing things with a lightsaber that would only end badly if it were powered on. “Dating scene round here makes a Sarlacc’s belly look lively.”

“What’s a Sarlacc?”

After more drinks as Buffy suffered through a ‘farewell performance’ by the holographic Shaak Ti that Buffy thought had been specifically outlawed by the Senate, Faith was ready to talk business again. They stumbled out of the bar, Buffy wondering why the Living Force thought it was a good idea for her to hang on to Faith’s lekku as they searched for her ship.

“I want,” Faith concentrated furiously, “five thousand credits, here to Coruscant and counting detours, which there always are with Jedi.”

“I could hire ten ships for that!” Buffy tried not to sound as drunk as Faith, which was unfair when she hadn’t drunken half what Faith had.

“And they’d dump ya out the airlock as soon as they jumped to hyperspace. I sell peace of mind!”

“Why should I trust you? You got me drunk!”

“Because I’m hoping you’ll eat me out later, and you can’t do that floating in the void of space. Ah! Home sweet home!”

Buffy craned her head. “Is it behind the junkpile?”

“It is the junkpile.”

Buffy blinked a few times. “Oh.”

It had once been a YT-300 personal transport, but there’d been so many patch-ups since then that not even the window panes matched. It was in the classic YT discus shape, with the bridge set in its ‘nose’, but Faith had added a pair of arrow-shaped wings to the sides, as well as something that looked disturbingly like a naval-class weapons pod above the bridge. A clothesline hung from a turret to a wingtip and Buffy realized two important things.

1. Faith lived in her crazy-person ship.
2. The only underwear Faith had that wasn’t black was red.

T4-R4, who’d been following a safe distance behind, made the doleful sound of a ship crashing.

“Hey, she’s more ship than you can handle, droid. Buffy, this is the Scythe. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch any of my stuff or I’ll have to spank you. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” The lekku in Buffy’s hand rubbed at her pulse, making Buffy feel ten degrees warmer.

“Sure. Where’s my bunk?”

“You can sleep in my bed.” Faith laughed when Buffy let go of her lekku. “I’ll sleep in the captain’s chair. Comfier there any way. Unless you get lonely…”

“I have T4-R4.”

“Think I might be better company. Unless one of those compartments has a vibrator.”

T4-R4 opened a compartment to brandish a taser at Faith.

“Kinky.”

***

Buffy awoke to a liquid sound that stung her ears as hard as razorwasps. She opened her eyes to see that Faith had placed a cup on the cluttered board by the bed, and was pouring a tar-like substance into it. It came from a bowl and Faith was coaxing it out with a vibro-mixer. “Rise and shine, boss. Busy day of Jedi business ahead of us. Fixed you a little home remedy for that hangover, free of charge.”

So that’s what that smell was. Buffy had assumed the fresher caught fire. ”That’s alright, you can have mine.”

“No need.” Faith indolently threw a brain-tail over her shoulder. “I’ve got a hollow lekku. Relax, I’ll water it down.” Faith dumped some of her hip flask into it. “Hair a tha dog.”

It’s the will of the Force, Buffy consoled herself, and gulped it down. Turning to the Dark Side suddenly seemed like a very good idea. After five minutes of retching, Faith let her rinse her mouth out with water, then tossed a dark green flight suit to Buffy. A brown jacket with torn elbows followed.

“Put that on, you’ll pass for a snub jockey.”

“Maybe I could smear some dirt on my face, tangle my hair…”

“No, you’re fine as is.”

Buffy simmered and held the suit against herself. “Okay. Prepare for take-off, I’ll get dressed.”

Faith beat a pouty retreat. “If you’re sure you can handle all those straps and zippers by your lonesome…”

“There are an awful lot of ways a girl could get tangled up.” Buffy began to undress. Her outer robes hit the floor and Faith took it like a dose of glimmerstim. “But then, your prices are probably too high.”

The Force slammed the door in the Twi’lek’s face, leaving her alone in the ship’s atrium with her lekku twitching animatedly.

***

Faith was just flicking the last of the warm-up switches when Buffy entered the cockpit, looking every inch some cheesy holo-drama’s idea of a fighter pilot. That girl who was always having her memory wiped by Sith mind tricks and being sent on sleazy missions, she’d look exactly like Buffy. Only her zipper might be a little lower.

“So where to, boss?” Faith asked, giving the throttle just enough of a crank to jolt Buffy against the targeting periscope.

Buffy nimbly bounced off it and landed sideways in the co-pilot’s chair, her feet up on the console. ”I’ve been thinking. Whatever I’ve been tracking, it had to have come up recently, otherwise the Council would have sensed it. So, where have the Hutts been mining lately?”

“Everywhere. They’re Hutts. But Mantle Drill 37 was shut down recently. Jabba says it was core gas expansion, but the Hutts have experts to forecast that. Cuts into profit margins.”

“Alright, let’s check it out.”

“You kidding? That airspace is crawling with patrols.”

“Who said anything about airspace?”

Faith’s smile was as bright as a lightsaber being switched on. To Buffy, it seemed just as deadly. “Now you’re talking.”

***

The tunnel to Md37 was a winding one designed to pay lip service to the crust’s structural integrity. Buffy could picture a multisegmented, miles-long rootworm boring through bedrock and glassing the walls until it opened up onto an ore deposit. Then miners would be sent in to process the valuable mineral. But here, the tunnel emptied into a vast cavern, several square kilometers in diameter. The sudden abundance of stalagmites and stalactites reminded Buffy of a space slug’s jaws. She gulped.

“Right, computer’s picking up active sensor sweeps, which means this is where we get off.”

“Won’t the next ship see us and raise the alarm anyway?” Buffy asked.

“Watch and learn, B.”

Faith brought the Scythe up between two stalactites that dwarfed the light freighter, then extended crampons to either side. Buffy heard the whine of retromotors as they sought a grip, then a little quake as the Scythe’s repulsors shut off. The crampons held.

“Nice move.”

“You should see me fuck.” Faith checked her blaster’s power pack. “Coming?”

“Are you?”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight until I get my credits. Which could make showers interesting.”

“You bathe? That’s already interesting. You have your own grapple-gun or am I going to have to explain to the Jedi Council why mine has Bantha lice all over it?”

Faith pulled out her own. “Bought it for the free rope. Ladies first.”

Buffy thought that had more to do with watching her ass than politeness, so she made her hips extra va-voomy as she walked out. Just because she was a Jedi didn’t mean she had to be a saint.

***

“Watch the ship, T4-R4,” Buffy said before running down the leftward stalactite, kicking off the tip, bleeding off her fall on the de-cel cord, then landing feetfirst beside a panting Faith (who’d rappelled down).

“Next time we drop down a sixty meter abyss, remind me to let you carry me.”

“Maybe if you were the one paying me.”

Using the graveyard of stalagmites as cover, they advanced on the brightly-lit camp at the other end of the cave. The rough terrain and constant need to hide from speeder patrols made the light jog hellish. By the time they got there, Faith had taken off her jacket to reveal biceps glistening with sweat. She noticed Buffy eyeing her.

“It’s been a while, but I think sweating is allowed under the Jedi Code.”

“Here.” Buffy tossed her a metallic canteen with phosphorous light down one side. “Bacta water.”

Faith dipped two fingers into the stuff and sucked them clean. Tasted sweet, like sugar water. She guzzled more down.

“Thanks.”

Buffy took the canteen back. “It’s been a while, but I think charity is allowed under the Jedi Code.”

“So how’re we getting in there? There’s only one way in, so unless you know some grateful orphans…”

“Actually, I was thinking we could walk through the front door.” Buffy straightened her jacket and strode right for the camp.

Faith swore and took off after her, one hand hitched near her blaster. “Hey, there’s a level of crazy you have to be for me to find a Jedi likeable, but this is about six times that!”

“Relax. I’ll protect you from the big scary rent-a-cops.”

A spotlight hit them, accompanied by the crackle of a blaster warming up. “Halt! Who goes there!”

Buffy waved her hand subtly at the guard tower. “We’re dirt quality analysts, here on a surprise inspection. We’ve received complaints about the coloration of the dirt around here. It’d be a good idea to tell your superiors this was a false alarm.”

The spotlight shut off and a comlink clicked on. “False alarm, sir, nothing to worry about.”

“And give us your wallet,” Faith shouted.

It hit the dirt. Faith laughed as she rifled through it.

“Faith, the Force is the energy that binds the universe together. Please don’t use it to mug people.”

“Hey, what’d you pack for lunch? Faith asked the guard.

“Faith! That’s wrong!”

“Sorry, B. You want to take off your pants and do a merry dance next time you see your boss!”

“No you don’t, you want to leave your pants on!” Buffy grabbed Faith’s arm. “You come on before I make you run down the middle of town naked as a tauntaun!”

“You don’t need mind tricks for that.”

***

The camp was simple and expedient. Three guard towers, two covering the far wall, with pre-fab living quarters, latrines, and feeding chambers. That barely took up a tenth of the camp’s area. Empty crates were scattered everywhere, linked by an impressive array of footprints. They all orbited a dark mass in the center of the camp, spotted with machine shops.

Buffy glanced at the crates as she approached it. “Repulsors… hyperdrive core… ablative plating… whatever they found down here, they’re moving it off-world by constructing a starship around it.”

“Awful pricy for a Hutt,” Faith commented.

“Yeah. Loading it down here means it can shoot straight to wherever it’s going with no interference. The buyers must be paying top dollar for security and secrecy.” Her lightsaber slipped into her hand. “Hope they kept the receipt.”

Buffy suddenly spun Faith behind a tall crate. “Wait here. If he starts some drama, end it.”

“He?”

In lieu of explaining, Buffy strolled out into the open.

“Hold it! Where’s your security clearance?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Right here.” She waved her hand. “Now, take us to the artifact.”

“But no one’s allowed to see the artifact.”

Buffy waved her hand higher. “I’ve been rude not to introduce myself. My name is No One.”

“Right this way, Miss One.”

***

The ship’s super structure reminded Buffy of a gas-based airship. Despite being the size of a bulk frigate, it was mainly walkways and support beams. The engine room, bridge, and other essentials all hung in space like they were in a diorama of a starship instead of the real thing. The curvature of the hull and a spiraling staircase both led to a heavily-armored blister at the bottom of the ship. As soon as she saw it, Buffy folded up like she’d been bit by a sudden cramp.

“B?” Faith threw Buffy’s arm over her own shoulders to steady the Jedi. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a bad motivator.”

The guard blinked repeatedly. “Wait, why am I taking you to the artifact?”

“Here’s why.” Faith kicked him in the head, still holding Buffy. “C’mon, B, think about my paycheck for a second.”

“I’m fine. I’ve just never felt the Dark Side so powerfully!”

“You get used to it. So, what’s the gameplan?”

“I’ll plant charges in the engines, you cue up the ship for a fast getaway. The Dark Side must be vanquished!”

“You bring explosives along on a recon mission? Liking you more and more, B.”

Buffy managed a wan smile. “That’s only natural, given how often you stare at my ass.”

“Given how often you shake it in my face,” Faith said in mockery of Buffy’s prim tone.

Buffy interrupted her with a quick, strangely flavorful peck on the lips. “Get going. It’s only a matter of time until they realize we’re here.”

Buffy vaulted over the railing and dropped to a lower level, where she made her way closer to the engines. Faith was left rubbing her lips.

“Damn. Easiest five thou I ever made.”

That said, ten searchlights struck the ship and the jackboots of a private army were heard assembling outside. “Jedi! You are surrounded! Come out with your hands up!”

Faith tucked her lekku behind her back for safekeeping. “Looks like it’s gonna be a dishonest day’s work after all.”

***

Buffy was just descending to the engine level when a voice screamed in her ear. She landed bad, spraining her ankle, then fell off her target and hit the curved hull. She rolled down to a stop, leg flaming. Someone was whispering in her ear, words of power and destiny. She looked up to see she was within arm’s reach of the blister. It was the size of a warehouse, so large she feared for a moment it would roll over in its sleep and crush her. But that was impossible.

Then a door opened in the blister and Buffy began to reassess her notions of impossibility.

***

They think I’m a Jedi, Faith thought as she swung up the walkways as fast as her limbs could carry her, lekku keeping her balanced. She didn’t have climbing claws, but a season stranded on Kashyyyk had made her the equal of any Wookie.

Thinking fast, she thumbed her comlink to the most active channel and intoned dramatically “You want to go home and… be more kind to animals.”

A gruff voice responded immediately. “Your mind tricks won’t work on us, Jedi bimbo… Fred, get back here!”

Finally clear of the walkways, Faith fired her grapple-gun into the ceiling. “Worth a shot.”

She flew.

***

Buffy hobbled past a rusting build-bot (the blister had been built from the outside, they couldn’t go near it, this was important) and up to the door. Only it wasn’t a door. It was a rend in the solid metal, like a cut in flesh. The whispers were louder in front of it, promising powerwealthfame.

She stepped inside.

***

Faith pulled herself hand over hand along the spine of the hull, until she saw a hatch. As Gruff Voice promised her destruction, she curled her legs around the next rung and hung upside-down. Thus, her hands were free to screw a shock rocket onto the muzzle of her blaster.

“Alright, Jedi, since you won’t come out, we’re coming in! Hope you’re ready!”

Faith’s lekku unscrewed the hatch. She wedged herself in its neck, blaster held ready, then popped the hatch. Amidst a sudden hail of blaster fire, her blaster bolt ignited the shock rocket and sent it hurtling for the rocky ceiling.

“Since the day I was born, Hutt-fuck.”

Instant cave-in.

Faith swung the hatch shut, hooked the prongs of her grapple-gun on the wheels, then bungee-jumped back down to the occupied lower half. The top of the ship bulged downward like it had caught some horrid skin condition, then the onslaught stopped with a harsh electrical noise. Forcefield generator. Instant no cave-in.

“Oh, Sithspawn.”

***

The artifact was fifty feet long, ten feet tall, and surrounded by death. In shape it was vaguely pyramidal, slanted mastabas leading up to a flattened top. Its composition was sheer cortosis, indestructible, though studded with jewels and adorned with the hanging lightsabers of Jedi long since murdered. Buffy couldn’t breathe; the stench of death was so thick.

The corpses… miners. They had found the artifact and then killed each other in an orgy of destruction for its amusement. All but one. He had lived to honor the artifact with the desecration of his friends’ bodies, covering its symbols in their blood, decorating its points with their heads. Then he had waited atop the artifact as droid, secured it and the corrupt prepared to ferry it to the still more corrupt. He had waited for her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He tied a cloak around his Dark Side-ravaged body, sparing her the evidence of how he’d passed the time alone with his flesh and fingernails. “The Sith Library. Every Sith Lord since Darth Bane has inscribed his knowledge of the Dark Side on this pagan idol. All the secrets the Jedi Council are too frightened to teach you. Glorious.”

Buffy gathered the Force around her like a light against the darkness. A small light, perhaps, but even the smallest could shine. “It’s not too late. Let me help you, you can turn away from the Dark Side.”

He laughed and the grinning skulls of his victims laughed with him. “Turn away? My dear, foolish, little, slut. I am the Dark Side. But since we’re family, you may call me the Librarian.”

“Family?” Buffy asked.

He leaped down from the Library and she triggered her lightsaber, provoking another echoing laugh. “Yes, mother. This useless thing—“ The Librarian ripped a tooth out and disdainfully tossed it aside, “was the closest I could come to Force-sensitive. Not even enough Midichlorians to warrant being kidnapped by your Jedi masters. But now that you’re here, I can hollow you out and use your body to… well, you’ll see soon enough. In point of fact, you’ll have the best seat in the house.”

“Wow. Couple million years and that’s the best line you can think up? No wonder us Jedi keep kicking your ass. We’re pithy.”

“Insolent words can hide a frightened heart… but not forever.” A lightsaber flew off the Library and into his hand, the red blade seeming to form by an invisible knife cutting the air. “Show me the power of the Light, little Jedi, and I’ll show you the majesty of the Dark Side.”

***

“I’m in deep shit,” Faith muttered as sparks began to fly from one of the hatches. A hull this size had a dozen entry points, and the guards had finally picked one. Faith looked at the cables lining the walkways. Maybe if one of them were power she could electrify the hull, buy some time. Then she saw that one of the cords ended in a thick datapad. She snatched it up, almost kissed it. Remote link-up to ship’s systems. All the important stuff was password-protected and it would take too long to splice, but maybe on of the tests…

Depressurizing the ship was sometimes necessary in the case of radiation leaks. In atmo, any ensign could run the test. She readied the test, then cycled to an external camera. There was the generator. She hadn’t noticed because it was behind a mountain of crates. She started the test and raced down the walkways, arriving at her destination in the nick of time.

Every airlock on the hull opened at once. The security team making the breach looked around. The last thing they expected was for her to make her escape through the very airlock they were opening, so that’s exactly what she did.

Faith swung down from above the airlock, kicking the welder in the chest. The airlock was accessible by stairway, and the falling welder took his teammates down all 237 steps. Blaster primed, Faith dived off the platform and drilled a dozen shots into the generator as she fell. No more forcefield.

She landed on a troop speeder, top-down and powered up to hover mode. It bobbed under her weight, as the cave-in resumed like it’d just been getting impatient. The driver boggled at Faith as she laid on the hood in a holo-worthy pose. “Think I won the teddy bear?”

She kicked him so hard he rolled over the door, then vaulted into his seat and introduced pedal to metal. The speeder lived up to its name so quickly that the troops in the open-bed back were thrown over the end. All but one. He threw himself forward and wrapped an arm around Faith’s throat while she was busy dodging falling stalactites.

Faith slapped the console and a force screen windshield slashed up to protect the driver. The man put a hand on Faith’s shoulder and the other cupped Faith’s chin, prepared to twist. Faith stomped the brakes. The man flew forward, smacked the force screen, and slumped into the passenger’s seat. Faith hit the gas just in time to get out of the way of a ten-ton boulder.

The man put a sidearm to her head and said in a gruff voice “You’re something else, Jedi. But I’m something more.”

“Stop calling me Jedi.” Faith threw the Speeder into a skid, right at a girthy stalagmite, passenger-side first. She ducked into the footspace as it hit. Gruff Voice took the brunt of the impact. Faith pushed his half-dead carcass back onto his side and took the wheel again, just in time for a C-Web-thick blaster bolt to splash against the force screen. A military speeder, coming right at her.

“I think it’s your turn to drive.” Faith threw Gruff Voice down onto the gas pedal, aiming her speeder dead-on at the enemy’s. She loaded her grapple-gun. “Five thousand creds. I need a raise.”

Firing the grapple, she swung out of the speeder just as it hit the guards who’d had the ill-fated idea to play chicken with the captain of the Scythe. In five seconds, she had retracted the line and boarded her ship. She was just replaying that kiss in her head when she noticed the transport lifting off.

“Five by five,” she muttered sarcastically.

***

The ship quaked, shaking Buffy to all fours. “We’re taking off?”

“Of course. I have all I need from this squalid little world,” the Librarian said. “It’s time we truly plumb the mysteries of the Dark Side.”

“Alright, I get it, you’re evil, let’s fight.”

She lunged at him and he weaved out of the way like some tremendous serpent. A headless corpse lunged up, caught Buffy in a macabre dance. She kicked it away and circled the Librarian.

“I sense much fear in you, Jedi.”

“That’s funny, I sense much ‘about to get head-stomped’ in you.”

The Librarian chuckled as everything in the blister began to levitate. Broken build-bots, dead miners, abandoned tools flew around the Library in a quickening vortex. “You’ve always been the Council’s girl, haven’t you? Never been on your own. Tell me, when you dreamed of being a Jedi Knight, did you ever suspect you’d be so frightened?”

“The Force is my ally!”

“No. It really isn’t.”

Buffy somersaulted backward just as a mine-cart scraped along where she’d been standing. She landed in the path of a vibro-hammer, which cracked ribs. Buffy whirled in time to cut a work-lamp in half, be battered by a hard-helmet. A canister of pure oxygen knocked her legs out from under her. She landed on her back, Pushed outward with the Force. The Librarian rocked back slightly on his heels. He Pushed back and the floor collapsed under Buffy as she shrieked in agony, ribs fractured all the way.

“Lost little Jedi, all alone…”

***

“I’m not leaving her, okay, calm down!” Faith yelled, trying to pilot the Scythe despite T4-R4’s bleeps and boops. The transport took up most of the tunnel and any attempt to pull up alongside to board seemed like it would just end with a smear on the cave wall.

T4-R4 beeped loudly, rotating its dome like an exasperated headshake.

“Dock at the rear? Did you not notice that ion drive? We’d be vapor. Did I mention how much I like not being vapor?”

T4-R4 trilled and rammed the targeting periscope.

“Oh, right. I’ll fly, you shoot. Don’t take out all the engines, unless you like the idea of calling burnt wreckage ‘master’.”

***

The Librarian glanced up in surprise as the ship rolled to one side, light flickering. “We’re being fired on. I think someone’s going to the trouble of rescuing you.”

“Hate to disappoint them, but…” Buffy threw something at him. He caught it easily. Saw that it was her lightsaber, held upside-down. She ignited it with the Force and the plasma arc blazed into his lower body. Hissing with pain, the Librarian dropped it into Buffy’s waiting hands as she dashed forward. “I do the rescuing around here.”

He caught her wrist as she slashed at him, then held up his other hand like a magician doing a trick. Lightning arced from his fingers and threw her across the room. Buffy hit the Library and stuck to it like flypaper… or a spider‘s web.

“Nice to see some things haven’t changed.” The Librarian gave her lightsaber a few practice swings. Then he turned it upside-down and crimson ran down the arc like a bleeding wound.

He stalked toward her, letting the saber drag along the floor as she struggled to get free. Through the gash she’d put in his chest, she could see his internal organs continuing to pulse with dark life.

“Do you know why the Sith are stronger?”

“We’re rendered helpless by your poor fashion sense?”

He brought the saber up to her face, lopped off a strand of hair. “It’s pain. You fear the pain. We welcome it, because we know it cures the weak.”

“You want pain, give me back my saber, then we’ll talk.”

He spread her stricken legs with the toe of his boot, then touched the lightsaber to the side of her knee. She gritted her teeth.

“Take the pain. Know that the Dark Side can make you immune.”

Speechless with pain, she spat in his face.

The Librarian moved the lightsaber up her thigh, excruciatingly scorching her flesh. “Take the fear. Know that with the Dark Side, you will never feel fear ever again!”

Lightning coursed through the Librarian, knocking the lightsaber to the ground. Buffy looked up to see the electricity was coming from Faith’s fingertips. The smuggler leapt down between Buffy and the Librarian.

“Take this!”

She laid into the Sith, forcing him back with an endless stream of hard rights and lefts until he was hanging from the door he’d made, spread-eagled to hold the sides. Faith sent him flying with a side-kick.

“Ryloth, motherfucker!”

Buffy dropped from the Library and Faith rushed to her. Buffy quickly palmed her lightsaber. Force lightning. Sithspawn!

“Faith, you’re a Jedi?”

“Heh. You’re funny.” Faith pulled her up. “Can you walk?”

“I can limp.”

“Good enough. Lean on me.”

Buffy tried to keep up as Faith dragged her out of the blister. “I didn’t plant the charges. We have to destroy the Library.”

“Why, how many books do you have overdue?”

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. An invisible vice was gripping her throat. Faith protectively pulled in front of her, but her throat closed as well.

The Librarian stood in front of them, both hands clutched like talons. He smiled at them through his shattered face. “My, my. Two Jedi. Should I hollow you out one by one or both at once? Decisions, decisions…”

Buffy called to that small candle of the Force, felt it drive away the black. She reached out and grabbed the oxygen canister from inside the blister. It sailed over the Librarian’s shoulder.

“Was that supposed to hit me?”

It struck the hull, ruptured, exploded. As his eardrums burst, the Librarian dropped them. Then, hull breach! The Librarian hit the deck and dug his nails into the hull as he was dragged toward the breach. Buffy wrapped herself around the walkway and grabbed Faith with her free hand. The Twi’lek was airborne, legs kicking out for a hold on anything. Then she saw the Librarian actually clawing his way away from the breach.

“Left!” she shouted over the cacophony of decompression, and Buffy swung her left. Faith had already dug her blaster out of its holster.

The Librarian looked up to see Faith swinging from Buffy’s arm like a trapeze act, white-knuckled grip on her blaster. “What’s that do?”

The blaster bolt took him high in the face, peeling his spine back, and he spun end over end out of the hull breach. Buffy thought she saw something black dart back inside and be sucked into the Library. But then she was pulling Faith down to the walkway. The Twi’lek insistently pushed Buffy’s arms around her own torso, and her lekku around Buffy’s shoulders, so the Jedi let herself be carried toward the back of the ship. Then all the air ran out and it didn’t matter, they were weightless.

Buffy concentrated on the Force, keeping the air in their bodies fresh. The flight suits helped with depressurization, but her eyes were still stung by bloody tears. The pain in her leg flared up again from colliding with a safety railing. It was too much. She clung tight to Faith and let darkness claim her.

***

Ten feet from the Scythe, Buffy went limp. Faith felt it. She swore harsh enough to blister Buffy’s ears if the Jedi were conscious, tucked Buffy under her arm, and hard kicked them the rest of the way to the airlock. As soon as they were inside, T4-R4 irised the outer door shut and started cycling air in. Faith pressed her mouth to the vent and sucked in a sweet lungful, then threw herself on top of Buffy, forced the air into her lungs. Buffy coughed and gave her right lekku a tapering tweak.

“Faith, I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Stick with me, I’ll make you that kind of girl.” She gave Buffy a kiss that had nothing to do with air. “Wait here, B, I’ll get us out of here.”

No sooner had the repressurized airlock opened then Faith was running for the cockpit.

“Faith, wait!” She was already gone. Buffy growled and began the painstaking process of pulling herself to her feet.

***

Faith vaulted into the pilot’s seat, barely ahead of T4-R4’s rising whine. “They’re powering up their hyperdrive? Good idea! Let’s do that!”

T4-R4 rolled over to the nav-comp, made a distressed drone, and interfaced with it. Faith glanced at the nav-screen to see several flights of Corsairs inbound.

“Our welcome, all worn out. See what comes from hanging out with Jedi?”

T4-R4 made a noise remarkably like a raspberry.

“Faith, stop!” Buffy sagged against the doorway. “We can’t let that ship loose!”

“Not my problem, B!” Faith uncoupled from the transport. “Prepare for lightspeed. That means sit down, shut up, and fasten your seatbelt!”

“I’ll double your pay!”

Faith frantically threw switches. “Need to be alive to spend it. All tray tables in their upright and locked position…”

“Faith,” Buffy waved her hand high, “you don’t want to engage the hyperdrive.”

Faith’s eyes glazed over. “I don’t want to…”

Buffy grabbed the periscope, spun it until the transport filled the viewer, and fired everything she could. The transport soaked up punishment until blaster fire was passing through it, then jumped to lightspeed. Buffy cursed, got similar sentiments from Faith when a pair of proton torpedoes cracked the Scythe’s hull. The Corsairs had arrived.

Faith’s eyes focused. “…the hell?” She threw the light freighter into a spin. “T4, lightspeed, now!”

The stars elongated and snapped them into hyperspace. But almost immediately there was a wail of pained metal and the familiar tunnel of light began to show tears into realspace.

Faith spun to the systems console. “Sithspawn! That last hit took out shields, communications—“

“Hyperdrive?” Buffy asked.

Faith pointed a fierce finger at her. “No reward is worth this! Get your droid to the engine room and see what you can fix or we’ll be floating home!” Red lights began flashing. A lot of them. “Go!”

Buffy made a run for it, but something important overloaded and the ship pitched to the side. Sparks flew from several panels and a tangle of cables fell from the ceiling.

“Buffy, get back here!”

“But, you said…”

“Now you listen to me? Come on!”

Buffy stumbled back to the cockpit, where Faith shoved her into a chair and strapped her in.

“We lost hyperdrive,” Faith explained tersely.

“But we’re in hyperspace!”

“Yeah, well… not for long.” Faith turned back to the controls, took careful hold of the hyperdrive lever. “This is going to be interesting.”

“Define interesting.”

“Well… destruction’s interesting, right?”

Buffy covered her head.

Faith pulled down the lever. The tunnel of light split like it had hit a prism, segmenting from gestault into the million million stars whose light had produced the visual effect. And after a prolonged disconnect, the ship settled into realspace.

They were adrift in a sea of stars. Not one planet in sight.

“Where are we?” Buffy whispered.

“Middle of nowhere, B. Home of the famous ‘featureless void of space’.”

“So fix the hyperdrive, get us out of here.”

“Fix the hyperdrive? With what, happy thoughts and good cheer?”

“Then call for—“

“The communications array is busted, which is what happens when you stay in realspace with an army of starfighters kicking your ass! You’re welcome, by the way…”

Buffy looked at her, confused.

“For rescuing you!”

Buffy put a hand on Faith’s shoulder, feeling bone where the Twi’lek was hunched over. It made her wonder how fragile Faith was. Force-sensitive or not, there was only so much that could be asked of anyone. “Hey. You did great back there. Really.”

Faith stayed down, head in her hands, for a long moment. “Did you see me with the lightning?”

“It was pretty cool.” Buffy stroked Faith’s lekku supportively. “So, what about sublight? Can we reach lightspeed?”

“Yeah. I keep the components separate for redundancy. It’ll take us a while to limp to the nearest inhabited planet, but at relativistic speeds, it will only seem like a few months to us.”

“See? It probably won’t even take that long. The Order will sent people to look for me, they’ll find us through the Force… we’ll get tapes of the last few Boonta Eve Classic Pod-Races…”

“B, do you know my lekku are erogenous zones?”

Buffy stopped rubbing Faith’s lekku. “No. I didn’t know that.” She wiped her hands on her pants. Just from being touched, a wave of pain ran through her injured leg. “Oh, right, excruciating pain, forgot.” Buffy tried to remember the Jedi teaching on pain, but all she could come up with was ‘pain hurts’!

“Don’t try to move, B, I’ll carry you to the med-bay.”

***

“Med-bay looks a lot like your bed,” Buffy noted wryly when she was set down.

“It’s a room of many talents. Here, take these.” Faith dropped some pills into Buffy’s hand. “And wash it down with this.” Buffy recognized her bacta canteen in her other hand.

“What’re the pills?”

“Just something for the pain. Trust me, they work.”

Buffy obediently gulped them down, one after the other. The pain suffusing her body shrunk to the ribs and thigh. Faith also turned purple.

“Ha ha, you’re purple.”

“Sure am. I’m gonna put a bacta patch on your leg now. Means I’ll have to take off your pants. Don’t read too much into it.”

“You look ridiculous.”

Faith unzipped Buffy’s flight suit, then activated the repulsorlift under the bed. It was intended for… personal use, but this worked too. Buffy floated, adding to her drugged-up appreciation of life, and Faith peeled off the suit, leaving her in light shorts and a thin T-shirt. Careful not to nudge the pants, which had melted over Buffy’s wound, Faith ran Buffy’s belt through its loops, then tugged her pants off. Buffy was left in a pair of conservative panties.

“Spread your legs,” Faith said, for once ignoring the double entendre.

Buffy whimpered like a child facing a shot, but let Faith maneuver her legs apart. The Twi’lek ignored the heat blooming in her lekku; the sight of the burn marring Buffy’s leg from knee to inner thigh was better than the coldest shower. She had to use two bacta patches to cover it, which meant her own injuries would be healing the old-fashioned way.

“Never say you didn’t get your money’s worth.” She taped Buffy’s ribs, wishing she had enough bacta for the marks the Force lightning had left, then dialed the repulsor down until Buffy had floated back to the bed.

“This is the second time you’ve slept in my bed, and I’ve still got blue-lekku.” Faith pulled the sheets over the unconscious Jedi. “You ain’t careful, I’m gonna start thinking you’re a tease.”

***

The next morning Faith woke up in the pilot’s chair, gave the instruments a brief check, then went back to check the cargo. Buffy was sitting cross-legged on her bed, making Faith wonder how a girl from a race with no hair could find bedhead cute.

“You should be resting.”

“Jedi healing trance. Sit.” Buffy patted the mattress beside her. “Share with me your captainly wisdom.”

“Well, we’ve reached a cruising speed of 99.9999% the speed of light, and for your traveling convenience five weeks have passed during the night. How’s the leg?”

“Better. Lightsabers are civilized weapons, not designed to inflict pain, but I can still feel the Dark Side trying to overwhelm me.”

“I had that once. Turned out to be bad milk. What d’ya want for breakfast?”

“No, I’ll cook, it’s the least I can do. I used to cook for the younglings in the Jedi Temple. Do you have any eggs or vegetables…”

“I have CorpSec rations. And other CorpSec rations.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Faith sighed. “It’s gonna be a long quarter century.”

Episode 2