Chapter Ninety Six

Despite not facing as many spirits, Quinlan faced just as legitimate a threat as the two younger padawans. He was only attacked by one, a Rutian Twi'lek like Aayla, although her skin had dark whirling tattoos of red on the blue skin to go with her yellow eyes.

She attacked with a ferocity that he could barely match, while also reaching deep into his mind, battering through his defenses unlike the spirits attacking Aayla and Harry, who had been unable to do so. Every dark moment, every fearful instant, every angry battle where Quinlan had nearly fallen to the Dark Side, every moment where he had used his powers to pull images from objects and felt the previous user's anger, hate, or fear whirled around him. The Rutian Sith used them like physical weapons while their lightsabers clashed and clashed and clashed again, the woman's mastery of Djem So giving his own skill in Ataru a run for its money.

"You are of the Dark already! You know its power. Join me, let me in, and we will become more powerful together than either of us could ever be alone! It will be sweet," she said, suddenly ducking under his guard, putting one arm around his shoulders and pressing her body flush against his as she whispered seductively into his ear. "You know it to be true. The memory of your parents' death to Anzati started you down this path. Your master knew this, forcing you into the shadows every chance he could. Take your anger and your rage and use it!"

Frozen for a moment, Quinlan didn't try to dodge as the woman thrust her lightsaber through his chest. The pain was agonizing, but no more than her words were here in this strange realm between the living and the dead. "That's right, give into the Dark," she whispered, moving with him so their bodies were still pressed together.

"The Dark Side is a curse, a trap," said another memory in his mind, a memory of his discussions with Knight Komari. The two of them had talked to one another about things he'd never even told his own master, things that she had only talked about with Master Luminara during her recovery. He had shared the darkness about his past, his parent's murder by Anzati and the way he had been forced to view it via his psychometry, the rage and anger and fear that had spawned in him which he'd had to deal with numerous times since. In return Komari had shared her torture by the Bando Gora, how she had learned to embrace the pain and feed off the hate to free herself.

"But it is a curse," she said, shaking her head and touching her eyes. "It sears out all other parts of you. Every Dark Side user has spouted out that only they understand the true nature of the Force, but the moment they allow themselves to be controlled by the their Dark emotions, they lose everything. You lose everything, becoming less than you are. Do not fall for that; do not fall for the seduction of the Dark."

With that thought Quinlan pulled himself forward and lashed out behind him the blow barely blocked by his attacker's lightsaber. "No," he said slowly, pushing himself to his feet and feeling at his chest where the blow she had dealt him had disappeared. He was still in pain, and still far weaker now than he had been a few moments before, but he was still in one piece. "No, I will not be turned. I will not be used by the likes of you."

That seemed to enrage the woman, and she wore it as she charged forward, her lightsaber flashing out to meet his own in a welter of sparks and the "Fizz-thrum!" of lightsaber combat.

OOOOOOO

Like Quinlan, Alecto was attacked both verbally and physically in this odd realm between life and death, his mental defenses not up to the level of the two Masters or the bonded couple.

But he handled it far better than Quinlan had at first. He had known about his slight jealousy for some time, his feeling of inadequacy in comparison to Harry. He had dealt with all of that during the Force gestalt the padawan trio had used against the Horde. He also had realized something that had eluded the others, facing immediate attack upon their mental forms.

The two Sith spirits attacking him were astonished at the strength of his response, hurling the mental attack out of his mind as he clashed with their own physical representations.

"That's right," he said calmly. "I am a rock. I am their rock." With that, Alecto reached into himself, using one of the body changing spells. Elsewhere he couldn't use that spell beyond changing his skin color, but here, in a realm where his physical body was a product of Alecto's mental concept of himself, he could, and did so now to an astonishing degree.

The two Sith, one seeming human and one Nautolan, watched in shock as their target's skin shifted, becoming rocky. Their lightsabers actually bounced off his changed skin, though Alecto had to hide a wince. Forcing his image of himself to seem more powerful than the memories of their lightsabers had hardened his skin a lot, but the heat had still gotten through. Despite that he smirked at the two Sith. "Do you know what swords do when they meet rock? They break. Your words will not hurt me, your power does not tempt me, and you will never break me!"

OOOOOOO

Micah was able to keep out the attempts by the spirits to get into his mind, and he had an easier time of it, at least at first. Four low ranking Sith who had somehow kept the memory of their physical bodies after all these years attacked him almost immediately upon their arrival in this odd, in-between space.

But while they were strong enough to actually form into a physical representation, unlike the spirits that Lily was dealing with, they weren't very good at fighting as a unit. They got in one another's way, and none of them seemed able to deal with his Bombarda or Shield techniques. It took him some time, but he dealt with them all, the last falling to a strike to the side as his other lightsaber blocked the blow the Sith had intended to decapitate him.

But the next round of attackers were two Jedi Masters. They assailed him with words as they did with their lightsabers, trying to castigate him for using those techniques. Micah tried to debate the point, tried to point out that just because they were new and unusual and, indeed, had never seen before, did not mean they were evil. He tried to point out that the bond between Aayla and Harry meant they would never be able to fall to the Dark Side through jealousy, that at the heart of their love was a selflessness that was simply astonishing.

He tried to explain that the two of them were a force for the Light Side, but the Jedi were not listening. Micah, and by extension the others, were different to what they knew and were therefore Dark in their eyes. Is this the result of fighting the New Sith Wars, that anything different becomes the enemy? Micah would have liked to think so, on top of their long, pain filled incarceration. But he knew that the Order could well have reacted the same way if not for Fay, Tholme and others.

Shaking that thought off, Micah began to fight them in earnest. All I can do for them now is to free them.

OOOOOOO

In stark contrast to the others, Master Fay's presence seemed to put off most of the spirits from attacking her for some reason, even after she projected her mind out into the Force. But several of the most fanatical of the Jedi attacked her one after another. The first was a Jedi knight named Turpimir, the same name which was given to one of the planets in the system. But he had been driven mad by the pain of the Dark Side, and she could only kill his body image, releasing him to move on.

He was followed by three more. These were all so-called Jedi Lords rather than Knights, men who had commanded troops of Jedi and volunteers against the Sith. Despite their arrogance and pride, Fay was able to convince two of them to rejoin the Force with her words. The third she was forced to help on his way.

The fifth spirit she faced, however, was someone else entirely, someone who Fay recognized from several sealed segments of the Temple archives. "Lord Hoth," she said, nodding her head, still somewhat bemused by the idea of having a body here in this realm between the living and the dead. "I would say it was a pleasure to see you, but seeing as you have decided to assail me thus rather than passing on to your well-deserved rest, I fear that any pleasure I get from the meeting will be quixotic at best."

Lord Hoth was a tall man, as tall as Skere Kaan, but built on a broader scale. He wore Mandalorian Beskar armor plate, vambraces, and armored leggings, along with a reddish, fur lined cloak coming from his shoulders down his back. He had long, silver hair done up into a ponytail, was in desperate need of a shave, and his face, overall, would never be called handsome, but perhaps could be called commanding.

On said face at the moment was a glare, which he was directing at the Elfin Jedi Master. "You, you are believed to be a Jedi Master? Where is your lightsaber?"

Fay cocked an eyebrow. "If a Jedi's worth is defined by a weapon, that is what he or she is. A lightsaber should be a tool, not a symbol of authority."

"Ah, a Consular," Lord Hoth said sneeringly, activating his lightsaber as he moved forward. "The kind that allowed the rise of the Sith in the first place. The type that tried to lift Kaan above all others as a Chosen One to do their fighting for them. Never understanding that nonviolence will never be a solution, never realizing that their arrogant belief that they knew what was best led us and the universe into darkness!"

With those words he attacked, blinking in surprise as his lightsaber hit a Force Shield several feet away from Master Fay, who simply stood there calmly, her arms folded in her robes. "Things have changed since then. And just because I do not carry a lightsaber does not mean I am not a threat." With that she lashed out with a Force Push of such magnitude that Hoth could not combat it, despite having prepared himself, and found his body hurled away from Fay.

But it didn't hurt him, and he quickly leaped back, coming back with his own Push, hammering against the shield and even creating a large cutting Force, like a technique Harry had created, but more powerful. But Master Fay simply stood there calmly, weathering the storm without apparent effort, her shield sustaining his assault with ease. This was not really the case, but it seemed so to Lord Hoth, and seemed to prick his pride.

"What would you have done in my place! You with your ivory tower beliefs, with your nonaggression!? You would have died to the Sith! The whole universe would have fallen to them were it not for me, my army, and my lightsaber! The Dark Side, evil, must be fought no matter the cost!"

"I would've fought, but in my own way," Fay said, her serenity an ocean of calm that Hoth's heated words could not penetrate. Suddenly her shield disappeared and Lord Hoth's lightsaber flew past her. Before he could recover she had stepped into his reach, touching his face with one hand. "You took so much on yourself, but it is time to let go. Let go of this anger and obsession, Lord Hoth, and become one with the Force."

A blast of Force Light lashed out from her hand, but Hoth had somehow seen it coming with his Force Precognition, and he jerked away, bringing his lightsaber up and around into where Fay was standing, only to find that Fay was gone, having teleported away. The two of them stared at one another for a brief moment, then Hoth roared and attacked once more.

"Stubborn man," Fay said with a sigh, readying herself for his charge. This looks like it might take some time.