"Padawan." Lerrek Vaarn laid aside his datapad with the air of one who has been pondering a matter for some time. Barin looked up from his studying, his wariness carefully hidden. "Padawan, I have noticed that of late there is a certain, how shall I say, restraint about you." "Master?" Vaarn stood up. Barin sat back in his seat, away from the tall Twi'Lek. "I cannot help being reminded of your behaviour during that foolish relationship with that female padawan." Barin raised an eyebrow slightly, maintaining an expression of disinterest. "Now, padawan," Vaarn admonished. Barin's blue eyes regarded him innocently. "I am not aware of any reason why you should get that impression, Master." Vaarn moved slowly across the room, graceful as always. Barin's fingers toyed with the edge of the datapad. "Padawan, I do not have to go through that explanation all over again, do I?" "A Jedi requires the utmost dedication," Barin said obediently. "No distractions can be permitted." One of the Twi'Lek's head-tails lashed out. Barin dodged and Vaarn's hand shot forwards, catching the padawan by the arm. The head-tail whipped forwards again, wrapping around Barin's neck. Vaarn's yellow eyes bored into those of his padawan. "The truth, padawan. Have you got yourself mixed up with some woman again?" Barin stared desperately back. "No, Master." Vaarn's other hand closed on the back of Barin's head, painfully grasping the hair. "Who is it?" "There is no-one, Master!" Barin flinched as Vaarn's mind plunged into his own, like tentacles stinging and squirming obscenely in his head. Ruthlessly his thoughts were hunted down and rifled through. Secrets scurried into the shadows, chased and harried from corner to corner. Any resistance was battered viciously into submission, leaving Barin's emotions raw and exposed. Finally the assault ended, the invading tendrils withdrawn with a final sickening mental caress. Barin collapsed forwards onto the table, coughing and gasping. Vaarn gently smoothed Barin's hair, his presence in the Force now both chiding and soothing. "Oh padawan. If you would only tell me the truth, I would not need to do such things." He sighed regretfully. "You know what I am going to say. If you are to become a Jedi, you must devote yourself only to your training. You must give up such... superficial infatuations." "No." Vaarn stiffened in shock at the defiant whisper. "Padawan, it can only damage your progress." "No." "If you will not, I must take appropriate steps. You will see one day that I only have your best interests at heart. If you wish to become a Jedi, you cannot allow yourself to be distracted this way!" "Then I do not wish to be a Jedi." Barin dragged his head up from the table, his jaw set and his eyes hard. "What? Padawan, you do not know what you are saying!" It was not an exclamation. It was a command. "I do." Barin did not raise his voice, but the words were firm and clear. "I wish to leave the Order." Vaarn's red pupils flared wider, his head-tails snaking around his shoulders. "It will not be allowed. Not at this stage of your training." Barin's brows lowered with suspicion and anger, his eyes flickering with dread. "Padawan, as your training in the Force proceeds there comes a time when you are tempted to stray from the proper path. Your skills are sufficient that they could be used for great evil, and your control is not enough that you can safely be set free from the restrictions of the Temple. I have felt your anger at times, padawan, and I know the level of your abilities. You know it yourself, I see it in your expression. It would be dangerous to let you leave now. You must complete your training." Barin stared in hopeless denial. "M- master?" "And if you will not obey me of your own volition, I will have to take a firmer hand. You are confined to the Temple until I say otherwise." "Master!" Barin was more than dismayed. "Master, please. You said I could go out tonight." "You have brought this on yourself." The Twi'Lek was unrelenting. "Master, at least let me go and explain," Barin pleaded. "She'll be expecting me!" "Then her disappointment is entirely your own fault. You have proved that I cannot trust you. How do I know what you would get up to if I let you go? You stay here until I can be sure of your actions. Padawan?" Barin's throat was so tight that he choked when he tried to speak. "Padawan!" Vaarn demanded. "Am I going to have to punish you further?" "No, Master," Barin croaked, bending over his studies. Vaarn stood over him a moment longer, then returned to his seat. The padawan lifted a hand to scrub at his eyes, the words blurring on the datapad. Although he blinked several times, he still had to wipe the screen dry before he could get back to work. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Looking for someone?" Arina turned at the voice from behind. "It's Juli, isn't it?" she said politely. The dark-haired padawan gave a sly smile with very white teeth in it. "Why yes. How nice of you to remember. You seem a little lost." "I'm fine, thank you," replied Arina, although in truth she was growing a little concerned. Barin had never been late before, and it was cold waiting in the street. "You need to be careful, out on your own in a place like this," said Juli, leaning against a wall with her hips jutting sideways. "How nice of you to be so concerned," Arina told her, turning away to look down the street while trying not to appear as if she was keeping an eye out for anyone. "I don't suppose you were waiting for a certain chattering blonde runt of a padawan, were you?" Juli asked, offhandedly. "Why would you care?" Juli's eyebrows arched as she looked at Arina from beneath half-closed eyelids. "Oh, no reason. Except that I saw him back at the Temple not ten minutes ago, and he didn't look as if he was in any hurry to leave. He hadn't even changed out of his tunic." Arina tried not to pay any attention, but there was already a niggling little whisper of doubt. "I wouldn't bother waiting. Like I said, it's not safe out here." "Why don't you mind your own business." "A little upset are we, dear? I shouldn't worry. I expect he's found himself somebody else, just like he did with me. All sweet talking one minute, and drop you faster than a hot hyperdrive coil the next." Arina couldn't help remembering the way Barin had treated Juli the first time she had met him, in the shooting-range. "He has this thing about black hair, you see," Juli broke in on the recollection. "Never mind. You'll get over him," she added, kindly. "I did. So did Karen." "Karen?" "I told you, it's the hair. Don't take it too much to heart." Juli patted Arina on the shoulder. "He's not worth it. Find yourself someone better." She smiled a deadly little smile at Arina's hurt expression, and sashayed away. //That ought to do the trick.// Revenge was definitely very sweet. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Master Jinn?" Barin's voice was subdued but sounded loud in the otherwise deserted corridor. He glanced away once, then back again. "Xanatos is doing some practice with Sara," Qui-Gon said, misinterpreting who it was the padawan was looking for and why. "You've been quiet lately. It's not the end of the world getting grounded, Barin. Your master has a good reason for it." Barin tried not to look as miserable as he felt. "Yes, Master Jinn. May I ask a question?" Qui-Gon nodded, and Barin went on, still quiet, still with half an eye on the corridor. "Master Jinn, do padawans ever leave the Temple without taking their Trials?" "Some do fail to reach the required standard," Qui-Gon replied, gravely. "I don't think you would be in any danger of that, though." "Do any leave through choice?" Qui-Gon took in the padawan's dull eyes, hanging head and drooping posture. "A promising pupil like you shouldn't be talking like that. You're young, and everything seems far more important than it really is when you're young. A few years from now you'll look back and see this as mostly hormones. Concentrate on your training." "I did not even get to say goodbye," Barin whispered. Qui-Gon awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "It's your master you should be talking to about this, not me. You don't think he enjoyed having to do this, do you? It's for your own benefit, even if it doesn't seem that way right now." "But- M- Master Jinn, what if-" Barin turned quickly as a new presence entered the corridor, then bowed. "Master." Vaarn paused rather than approaching further. "Qui-Gon, I shall be with you momentarily. My padawan has some lessons to attend to while we are practising. Come, padawan." Barin trailed after the knight back to their quarters, Vaarn moving swiftly in silence. He gestured Barin through the open door but did not follow. "You will remain here, padawan, until I return. I will be most displeased if I find you have tried to sneak out while my back is turned. Do I make myself understood?" Barin all but gaped as his Master confined him to his rooms, like a child. Vaarn frowned. "Padawan?" "You make yourself very well understood, Master." "I sense defiance, padawan." Barin hung his head. "Then I apologise, Master." "We shall speak further about this later." With that, the tall Twi'Lek was gone. Barin sank into a chair, burying his head in his hands. As soon as Vaarn would have had time to reach the end of the corridor the padawan returned to the door, stabbing in the code with a finger. He tried again when the door failed to open, then a third time, more slowly. He punched the door, getting no more result than bruised, split knuckles and a brief spurt of satisfaction at the pain it caused. Vaarn had changed the door code. He was locked in. After a second of apoplectic rage, the padawan whirled like a caged cat and stalked around the room to the window, thrusting it open with a burst of anger-driven strength. Outside the ground lay five stories down: a long way, but not impossible to negotiate. Barin started to clamber onto the window ledge, but stopped and took the time to head into his room and change out of his Jedi garments into something less distinctive. Even using the Force to break his fall the impact of landing was enough to jar his legs. Barin didn't stop to recover but sprinted away instead, away from the Temple, further from his master and from the chance that Vaarn would sense his padawan's disobedience. It had been two weeks since he had been able to see Arina; two weeks since he had talked to her, two weeks since he had failed to turn up or to give any explanation for his absence. She would have been worried. She would probably be angry; but he was going back now, and somehow he would make everything alright. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Every second it took to find an air taxi was a second longer for Vaarn to finish his practice session and return to their room. By the time Barin jumped out at the other end of the ride, scarcely bothering to wait for the vehicle to stop, he was already dreading his return. He would certainly be punished. Arina was worth it. And just maybe he wouldn't return; except that Vaarn would find him. Vaarn could always find him. There was always a part of the knight that stayed there with him, lurking in the back of Barin's mind like a spider in the shadows. The padawan had learned to block his Master's senses, but never his presence. Escape seemed impossible; each moment away was a stolen respite from the Twi'Lek's insidious control. Barin hurried into the shooting-range. Zolto was there, his reception cool and unfriendly. "Ah? You finally show-a up, eh? My daughter she cry for you! Itsa no way to treat-a a woman." Barin gulped, his blue eyes wide with sorrow. "I am so sorry. My Master made me stay in at the Temple. I could not even call." "You tell a good story, eh?" Zolto said, disbelieving. "Where is she?" "Itsa none-a your business now." Zolto flicked his fingers. "She finda someone better." "What? No... Where is she? Please? I will explain." "And then you make-a her unhappy again. I thinka you a nice boy, good for her, not mess-a her around, and then you do this to her. Two weeks, you not come-a back, you leave-a her waiting in-a the street. Nobody does-a that to my daughter, eh! I not wanta to see you here again. Shoo!" "But..." Barin stopped as Zolto levelled a blaster at his stomach. The shooting-range owner would fire, too, if pushed to it. Nobody made trouble at Zolto's range. Not if they didn't want to be making a trip to the hospital at best, and the morgue at worst. The padawan left, hovering indecisively in the street outside. How could he find Arina in a city the size of a planet? How could he return without even having seen her? He should have found a way to get out sooner, he could have found a way if he had thought about it enough. It would have meant facing his Master afterwards, but it would probably mean that anyway. What would have been the worst that the Twi'Lek could have done? Barin shuddered. He didn't want to think too much about that. Zolto's blaster would be preferable; but losing Arina was worse, and Barin felt ashamed for that. Arina was more important to him than his own Master. He had never managed to give his Master the complete dedication that was needed. There had always been something holding him back. Perhaps if he had been able to do that, his Master would not need to watch him, to punish him. Perhaps if he had given himself entirely to his training there wouldn't always be that constant sense of wrongness, the part of him that was repulsed by his Master's demands even when the rest of him accepted the pleasure and satisfaction. He didn't know, and his feelings for Arina made it no easier to understand. He shouldn't be doing this. His Master was right, it was just another distraction and clinging to it was not going to help his training. If he even wanted to continue his training. Yet what else would he do? All his life, he had worked towards becoming a Jedi. What else was there? Life as a farmer? A Healer? He shuddered again. Having to spend all day, every day among that turmoil of pain and emotion. Even with the shielding he had learned to use it would get through, and then they would find him out, they would discover his secret. His Master accepted it, Master Healer An joked about it, but no healer could truly enjoy other's pain. He could not work there, sooner or later someone would expose him.br> And what they would do to him then he really did not want to know. Confused and worried, with anger gnawing at his nerves because of it, the sight of Arina in the arms of a stranger was quite enough to jolt him into action without thought. He was unaware of his surroundings any longer. He was looking through a tunnel of red-black mist, with that tall, black-haired, suavely handsome man at the centre. Barin's fists clenched, his feet frozen to the spot, his overstretched mind drawing pictures of his hands locked around the man's neck, shaking the life from him, taking him away from his Arina, his beloved Arina. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vaarn paused in his lightsaber practice with Mace, frowning slightly. Mace waited. "A problem, Lerrek?" asked Qui-Gon, from one side. "My padawan..." Vaarn replied, then shook his head. "Never mind. He is in our rooms, there is little trouble he can get himself into there." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The man gagged, eyes widening as he clutched at his throat. Arina's face swam into Barin's view, shocked and dismayed. She looked his way, expression shifting to surprise and then horror. It was just enough to jerk Barin back to the borders of reason. He shied away like a startled animal, half-focussed eyes watching the Force swirling blackly around him, the smell of smoke filling his nostrils. He ran, still only half aware of what he had done, plunging into the nearest alleyway, taking turnings at random only to find his feet taking him back towards the shooting-range and the restaurant where he had found and now lost his Arina. She would not have him back after that. Now she knew what he was really like. Now he knew for himself what he was really like, he did not dare even try to win her again. What had he done? What had he become? His Master had been right, the ability was there for Light and for Darkness, and he did not know how to control it or how to find his path. He had to go back to his Master. What else could he do? Who else would take him now? "Aren't you supposed to be stuck in the Temple?" Juli's voice broke in on the turmoil of Barin's mind. She took a step back as he whirled to face her, his face a mask behind which flickered the red-black chaos of uncontrolled emotion. "Leave me alone." It was a threat and a warning, a demand and a plea. "Oh, temper temper. Been visiting your sweet little Arina?" "How. Dare. You. What would you know about it?" The words came out in a low growl. "She's found herself a proper man now." Barin threw his fist into Juli's smirking face, feeling her shock and pain, drinking it in and letting it slide through his senses, rich and dark and sickly as molasses. Juli hit the wall and recovered her balance, dropping into a combat crouch, glaring at him in fury and loathing. "Try that again and you're pate, runt. You're no Jedi. You're a nasty, crawling little turd." "You want to know what I am really like?" The red mist was rising, carrying Barin with it. He moved faster than Juli had ever seen him move, his first blow blocked by her forearm which cracked as he struck, the next punches lifting her off her feet and throwing her back into an alleyway. Juli scrambled backwards, every breath a sharp stab from what must be a broken rib. Barin followed and she kicked out, catching him on the shin. He smiled in delicious satisfaction, and kept moving forwards. On the edge of terror, Juli called on the Force. As Barin leaned down, still wearing that leering, snakelike grin, she kicked him in the head. He lurched sideways and went down, then picked himself up again, still moving, still grinning. "You like it," Juli gasped. "You actually like it." "I like lots of things. There is beauty in everything. Even you." "Get away from me. Xani will be here any second. He won't let you do this. Get away!" "Why?" Barin laughed, a sound close to hysteria. "I know what I am now. Xan's known all along. Let me show you. It is no use fighting, you see. You just have to accept. Accept what you are. You will like it." His hand cut off the other padawan's scream. She continued to struggle, and he hit her again until she finally lay still. "You have to accept," Barin said again as he loosened his belt. "I understand now. I will show you, and then I have to go. I am my Master's Jedi, you see. I cannot fight it any more. He will understand. I know now. I am his, and I will not resist him any more." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vaarn froze, his yellow eyes flaring. He stopped himself from licking his lips just before his two companions noticed it. "Don't tell me that there's nothing wrong this time," said Qui-Gon. "Your padawan?" Mace asked. Vaarn forced himself to nod. "I fear so. Would you excuse me, I think that I should return to my quarters." "Of course," Qui-Gon replied, sympathetically. He and Mace resumed their practice together as the Twi'Lek hurried from the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A footstep in the mouth of the alleyway announced the arrival of a dark-cloaked figure. Xanatos needed no more than a moment to take in the scene and know what had happened. "Barin!" Shock, utter shock in the voice, but there was more. His senses strung to snapping-point, Barin could sense his friend's thoughts and emotions beyond those reflected in his face and words. Uncertainty, jealousy, betrayal and pleasure were swirling beneath the surface like a rainbow oilslick through the shadowed rivers of his thoughts. He knew exactly what Barin had done: taken the first leap out into the dark gulf they had both been skirting together. Xanatos knew, and he wished he had been the one to do it. Barin reared backwards with a gasp, staring eyes full of terrifying realisation. "Barin, what have you done?" Barin remained speechless, his thoughts tumbling chaotically through the black stormclouds of his mind. Darkness, always darkness. Everything he touched turned to decay, grown rotten within. He had planted the seeds long ago- that trusting, dark-eyed child who had followed him so willingly and drunk so deeply of his fantasies of lords and kings. Sweet Sara, already pulled into the spiral that led down into the black pit of secrets and deceit. Juli, poor, beautiful Juli, trapped and soured by a cage of her own making then sullied by his hand, marked by his anger and by the Dark he had given in to. His Master, whom he should have obeyed and had not, who he should have loved completely and could not, whom he should have given everything to but had held back from. "Barin! Talk to me!" Xanatos strode quickly into the alleyway. "Oh kriff, Barin, what have you done this time?" Barin's jaw worked. Tears stung his eyes but would not fall. He swallowed, and tenderly brushed the hair from Juli's face with one trembling hand. "Kriff, Barin!" Xanatos crouched beside them, feeling for a pulse on Juli's neck. "Barin, how could you?" "I... I do not know. It made sense at the time..." "She's still alive. Think Barin! You can't let them find out. Look, you can make her forget. Can't you?" Barin's eyes cast about as if looking for pieces to put the world back together again, and found nothing. He could make her forget, they would think it had been a gang. They could make others believe. Juli lay unmoving, her hair fanned about her head on the stinking garbage of the alleyway, her bruised face serene in unconsciousness. He couldn't do that to her. He had invaded her body, but he could not bring himself to invade her mind as well. He couldn't do anything right. Not even turning to the Dark Side. Dumbly he shook his head. "You can, Barin. You can make her forget. It would be kinder, she wouldn't remember, she'd just be a little bruised. You can make her forget, and nobody will know. It's okay, I won't tell." He looked hungrily at his friend. "We can be knights together, Barin. You and me. We can be knights, and show them what Jedi can be. You know what power we have now." Barin tried to speak, but his throat was too tight. Jedi did not seek power. But then Jedi did not give in to anger, and he had; and Jedi did not let themselves hate, and he had. He hated. He loved. He didn't know the difference any more. They were tangled too tightly together. He couldn't even manage to be properly evil. Just a grubby, mediocre not-quite-black that dirtied everything he came into contact with. They would see that now. Everybody would see that. He couldn't hide any more. They would see, and they would make him talk. Barin gasped. They would make him talk, and they would know how he had failed his Master, how he had angered his Master because he could not be the padawan he should have been. They would know, and they would blame his Master, his beautiful, beloved, despised, hated, adored Master. He couldn't stay. He had to go, to go far away where they wouldn't find him and drag the truth from him. Plans whirled in his head, jumbled with recriminations and regrets. He would need credits, clothes, a weapon- not his lightsaber, he was no Jedi, he never had been a Jedi. He had to get back to the Temple. He staggered to his feet, fastening his pants and belt, looking down again at Juli. "Xan, can you take her to the hospital?" "We can both take her, Barin. Both of us. You make her forget, and we'll say we found her- you fought off the people who were attacking her..." Xanatos' voice trailed away as Barin shook his head. "I am sorry, Xan. For everything. I was the oldest, I should have realised. I should have been better. I should have done things better. It was not meant to be like this." Now the tears did fall, streaking the smeared dirt and blood on his cheek. "I am sorry, Xan. I have to go. Look after Sara. Listen to her. Please. Perhaps you can still do things right." "Barin!" Xanatos' shout echoed from the alley walls as Barin spun and ran. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber. "I think that's enough for one day. Had enough, Mace?" Mace bowed and put away his own weapon. "For today. I expect Lerrek will be up for another session tomorrow." Qui-Gon frowned slightly. "He left in rather a hurry. I hope things are okay." "We're going past his rooms. Check in if you're worried," Mace suggested. Qui-Gon laughed. "He's a grown man and a Jedi Knight. He doesn't need anybody mothering him." He rubbed a thoughtful hand over his beard. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to drop in an arrange another practice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Barin's breath was ragged as he dragged himself up to the window and all but fell into the apartment. The main room was in shadow. Nobody home. He would be able to find his things and go. Nobody would know until they tried looking for him. "Lights up full." At the deep, resonant voice the illumination obediently sprang into life. Barin stopped dead as the tall Twi-Lek made his stately progress across the room. "Master..." "You disobeyed me." "I know, Master. It will not happen again." Vaarn reached to seize his padawan's chin. Barin did not flinch away. "I understand now, Master. It is all my fault. Everything has been my fault, but I understand now. I am sorry." Vaarn's anger was temporarily held back by puzzlement. Barin lifted a hand and brushed his fingers down the Twi'Lek's head-tails the way he liked, feeling the shiver of enjoyment through their bond. "I cannot do what you wish," Barin said. "It is not your fault. It is mine. My fault. I will not let them hurt you, though. I have to go, and then you will be safe." "Padawan." Barin did not avoid the sulphurous gaze. "Padawan, what have you done?" "I... I gave in. I got it wrong, I think. It is too late now. I should have accepted you, and instead I looked elsewhere. I listened to my anger. I... there will not be much time, Master. Let me go. Then you will be safe." "Padawan?" Barin could feel the pressure of his Master's mind on his own, the tendrils of his presence seeking an entrance. "Master, please. You were right, master, and I am sorry. I did not accept you, and so I was hurt. I did not believe you, and so I did not know what to believe. I did not trust you, and so I had to be punished. I did not listen to you, and you were right, and now everyone will know what I am. I cannot let them hurt you because of me, Master. It was my fault, my fault you did what you did." "Padawan!" There was fear there now, fear with the anger in the Twi'Lek's aura. He struck out, and still Barin did not flinch, the blow landing over the scabs already marking his cheeks. "What did you do? Tell me!" Barin could not say it, but Vaarn picked it from his thoughts. He hit out again, throwing Barin back against the wall. "You idiot!" "Master... please... I know I have failed. Just let me go. Please. They will not find me." "Fool! Imbecile!" The Twi'Lek hauled the padawan to his feet and punctuated each word by thumping him against the wall. "Let me go!" "Let you go? Do you think I am completely stupid?" "Let me go, Master! I will go right away, I promise..." "Master? You dare call me Master? After this?" The Twi'Lek twisted Barin's braid around his hand, hauling the padawan's face close to his own. "There's no time," Barin pleaded. "Let me go!" "You will do what I say!" "Let me go!" Barin was desperate now. They would be coming. He had to go, to run, to get away. "Let me go!" He was shouting now, trying to get through to his Master, to force him to understand. One of Vaarn's hands was hanging onto his hair, his other gripping his arm, the twin head-tails wrapping about his neck. He had to go, he had to get free! "Let me go!" He shoved at Vaarn with both hands, but he might as well try to push down the walls of the Temple. The darkness was there, boiling beneath the surface, the red-black mist that waited for him. "Let me go!" The mist came rushing in, flooding his muscles, shrieking into the air around them. Vaarn was lifted like a puppet, flying across the room and thudding against the door. His head-tails were torn from about Barin's throat, burning the skin. The padawan's head jerked as his braid remained twisted in his Master's fingers, ripped from his skull. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mace and Qui-Gon both felt the surge of Dark energy that swirled around the residential block as they approached Vaarn's apartment. They looked at one another then broke into a run. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "That's enough, padawan." Vaarn drew his lightsaber from his belt. Barin felt for his own, but found nothing. He was not in his Jedi clothes, he had no weapon. He backed up, but had nowhere to retreat. Vaarn paced closer, his blade humming. "Padawan? Ha! You are no padawan of mine." He thrust the braid into Barin's shirt. Barin watched the lightsaber, momentarily fascinated by its glowing, deadly light. Then the meaning of the words reached him. "No..." There was a tap at the door, then a concerned voice from beyond. "Lerrek? Is everything alright?" "You brought them." Vaarn hissed at Barin in fury, and Barin's anger rose in response. "I told you to let me go," Barin snarled. "That is the last mistake you will ever make." Vaarn lunged, and the anger met him and flung him back again, a palpable blackness pulsing in the air. "Let me go!" Barin screamed, following the darkness, letting it carry him, drinking its strength and giving himself to its embrace. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thoroughly worried now, Qui-Gon and Mace exchanged one more glance then shoulder-charged the door. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lerrek was not expecting the force and speed of the attack. He knew his former padawan's strengths and weakness, he knew his fighting-style, he knew that he could always defeat him. This was not Barin. This was a monster, a creature of pure fury that slapped aside the lightsaber with disdain and brought its prey crashing to the floor. A hand seized the Twi'Lek's head and smashed it into the floor. "Let me go!" The Twi'Lek fought back, his mind grappling with the darkness, twisting within it, splinters of glass slashing from inside. "Let me go!" There was another dull thump as the Twi'Lek's head met the floor; again and again it thudded down, the skull cracking beneath the monster's hand. The darkness shuddered and contracted. The Twi'Lek's presence slowly slipped away, its grip slackening. His thoughts pulled back, the tendrils oozing obscenely away and fading into nothingness. Finally Barin could think with absolute clarity; and, with absolute clarity, he realised exactly what it was he had done. The door gave beneath the third assault by the two knights. Barin's glacier-blue gaze met their stares of absolute horror. Then Barin leaped to his feet and sprinted towards the open window. He did not stop to judge his jump. Qui-Gon ran after him, leaning out of the window to see the former padawan dashing away from the Temple. He set a foot to the window ledge, preparing to follow, but Mace's call stopped him. "Wait! He's not dead yet. Get the Healers." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The blonde-haired, fresh-faced, slightly-built youngster propped against the bar was the subject of much furtive attention in the seedy backstreet cantina. He was a stranger in that part of Coruscant, well-spoken and apparently not short of a credit; he had already been in some sort of a scuffle, going on the state of his face; and he was quietly downing enough alcohol to pickle a Bantha. In short, he had 'target' written all over him. The only real question was who would be the first to make the hit. Three mismatched figures at a nearby table had a quiet wager on it. The scar-faced, grizzled-looking Rodian, Sarge, had his credits on it being Fingers, the slippery Squib pickpocket who had long ago learned not to try his skills out on any of the three. The dark-furred Wookie, Gunner, favoured the burly Natch, who was always happy to pick a fight. The young human who went by the curious name of Yowsa was backing the rowdy and drunken nameless Togorian who was still in a bad mood after losing a Sabacc match earlier. Natch rolled forwards to the bar, deliberately bumping the blonde with his shoulder. Gunner gave a toothy grin and gathered up the credits. The three friends watched the proceedings with the air of connoisseurs. "You bumped me," Natch growled. The blonde ignored him, deliberately picking up his glass, swallowing the contents with a gulp, and setting it back down for a refill. "You bumped me," Natch said again, seizing the young man's sleeve in a meaty fist. The blonde slowly turned his head. His glacier-blue eyes were cold and deadly. "Let go of me," he said, each word like a drop of ice. "Watch yer mouth," Natch rumbled. "I don't like yer face." "Some people have no taste," the blonde said, coolly. Sarge, Gunner and Yowsa looked at one another. "Ooo-oo-ooh," said Yowsa, waggling his head. *How long d'you think he'll last?* asked Gunner. ::Him against Natch? Maybe a second,:: grunted Sarge. "I don't like yer atichood either." Natch pulled his free hand back, his fist balling. There was a blur of movement and then the big human's eyes rolled upwards, his grasp on the slim blonde relaxed and he staggered backwards a pace or two. The blonde calmly picked up his refill and tipped it down his throat. The surreptitious observation suddenly changed to disinterest. The blonde spoke briefly to the barkeep, then rose and made his way over to the table where the Rodian, the Wookie and the human were drinking together. "He said you have a ship," the blonde said, quietly. ::Tell the kid we don't take passengers,:: Sarge told Yowsa. "He said you did. For the right price," the blonde contradicted. *He speaks Rodian,* commented Gunner. "And Wookie," said the blonde, dryly. ::He doesn't know what he's talking about.:: Sarge jerked his head towards the bar. ::We don't take passengers, kid.:: *Just crew,* said Gunner. The blue-eyed blonde said nothing for a few seconds, but his expression grew thoughtful. Then he hooked a spare chair from a neighbouring table, and sat down. "Fair enough," he said. "Tell me more." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Epilogue: The whispers quickly spread through the Temple. After Xanatos got back from the hospital, distraught and disbelieving at what his friend had done to Juli, the news spread faster. Barin Truthfinder had raped another padawan and tried to murder his own Master. He had turned to the Dark Side. He was to be hunted and returned to the Temple, preferably alive to answer for his crimes, but if there was no choice then he was to be returned regardless. Vaarn spent many days in the bacta tank, his survival doubtful. The Healers were constantly in attendance. When he finally made a recovery he requested time to himself, to meditate, and was allowed leave off-world. When he returned to the Temple, he once more resumed his voluntary duties in the Crèche. In the infirmary, An-Paj sadly shook his head over Barin's actions. It seemed so out of character. In his experience, there was usually some reason behind any action, even if it did not always make sense. There had to be something that would explain why a promising young padawan would change so unexpectedly and do something so inconceivable. He began spending his off-duty periods going through Barin's medical records, piecing together the clues. Then he had a quiet word with the Crèche Master. It was the same week HoloNet ran a scurrilous little story on corruption in the Jedi Temple that An-Paj appeared before the Council with his evidence. The Council acted fast, but with public opinion against them the news of Vaarn's trial and execution went no further than the Council Chamber. The hunt for the missing padawan was quietly called off. Qui-Gon and Mace were taken to one side and advised to keep their knowledge to themselves, and gradually Barin's crimes faded from the collective memory of the Jedi. Some, however, would never forget. |
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| You Reap What You Sow By HaiGan |
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