Dark Day: Part Ten

Part Ten

     A cold chill raced down Lire’s spine as she backed up a few feet, finding herself only inches from a thick rock wall.  She knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to have her back against the wall, but whoever was out there was getting closer and she had no real opportunity to run.  So she thumbed the switch on her lightsaber, and the brilliant sapphire blade shot out of the emitter with a menacing hum.  There was a second malicious chuckle before a dark-cloaked figure slipped from the shadows.  Lire could tell there was a man beneath that cloak, but she couldn’t be sure of his exact appearance because a large hood shaded his face.

     “At last, we meet,” he said, voice low. “Stay your weapon, my dear; someone could get hurt.”

     “That someone will be you if you try anything stupid,” Lire answered with a growl. “Who are you?”

     At this, the man smirked coldly as he shoved his hood back, and Lire was thoroughly expecting a hideous, disfigured face.  That, however, was not what she saw.  Instead, the man was relatively young—mid-thirties, at least—with a head of thick dark hair and squinty eyes that were as black as midnight.  Lire thought she caught a glimpse of a long, gleaming vibroblade tucked beneath his cloak, and she adjusted her lightsaber and her stance until she was in her favorite defensive posture.  She shifted her weight as she studied the man before her, whose unnerving little smile never wavered.

     “I am darkness,” he said. “I am shadow.  I have followed you, yet you have never seen me.  I am the hunt.”

     “Hunt?”  Lire’s mind flashed back to that cold night on Kashyyyk when she, Carth, and Canderous had run right into Calo Nord.  Nord didn’t escape the confrontation, but that hadn’t stopped it from being a difficult battle.  “So you’re a bounty hunter?  Oh, just my luck.  First my week was hell and now I’m trailed by a bounty hunter.  Joy.”

     The unknown man’s almost predatory grin widened, and Lire accordingly tightened her grip on her lightsaber.  He took a couple steps nearer to her, causing her to giver her ‘saber one warning brandish.  He chuckled.

     “No, not a bounty hunter.  A shadow.”

     Lire lifted an eyebrow.  If he wasn’t a bounty hunter, then what was he?  She started studying him, looking for some indication of his allegiance.  The cloak was a bit suspicious, as was the vibroblade; after all, most humans didn’t normally carry vibros on their hips as if the weapons were extensions of their bodies.  Also, Lire couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen someone wear a cloak that long and black.  Then she got a glimpse of the clothing beneath the cloak: gray uniform.  Her blood ran cold; she’d seen uniforms like that one a hundred times on Korriban.  The tattoo on the man’s hand only confirmed what she feared: that he was a Sith.  Instantly, her mind went into overdrive.  She knew not to underestimate him, and she certainly knew that backup probably wouldn’t have been a bad idea at the time.  She wasn’t all that far from the Academy, but she knew that she was too far to run for help or give a yell; she’d handled plenty of Sith in her time, though.  She tilted her head at him, still gripping her idly thrumming lightsaber.

     “All right, Sith,” she said. “Who are you?”

     “You seek my name?  Very well.  I am called Trandor Vinn.  I have come by my Master’s bidding since he underestimated your skills—at first.  By slaughtering every bounty hunter, every pathetic apprentice sent to crush you, you attracted my attention.”

     “So you’re another of his minions—like Bandon,” Lire replied coldly. “Well, I can’t say I’m impressed with you, either . . .  So, let me guess: you’re here to kill me because I helped Bastila get off Taris and Malak isn’t happy with that.”

     “You are perceptive,” Vinn replied with a nod. “I know not to underestimate your powers; I am not as foolish as those idiots my Master sees fit to send against you.  But yet you are alone here; there is no one who can come to your aid, and the last they will see of you will be your mangled corpse as it is ripped apart by ravenous kath hounds.”

     “Ick,” Lire said, grimacing. “Guess I’d better do everything I can so I don’t end up in that sorry state.”

     “Then I welcome your challenge!”

     The pair began circling one another, and Lire kept a close eye on Vinn the entire time.  She was watching for any tricks he could send her way, and so she noticed every little move he made.  She noticed when he reached inside his cloak and drew his vibroblade from its sheath in one slow, smooth motion.  The cold silver blade flashed in the sunlight, and Vinn’s cold smirk never faded.  The tension in the Dantooine air thickened with every passing moment, and with each circle, Lire and Vinn gradually moved closer to each other and, ultimately, closer to combat.

     Suddenly, Vinn lifted one hand, and out shot blinding bolts of Force lightning.  Those bolts would’ve struck Lire in the dead center of her chest, but adrenaline had heightened her senses to a point where she could almost foretell his every move.  As a result, she reflexively lifted her lightsaber and flicked the lightning right back at Vinn.  He almost didn’t dodge that but managed to leap aside before it was too late.  The next moment, he lunged at Lire, vibroblade glinting, and Lire waited until he was too close for comfort before parrying his attack and thrusting him back.  The blade of her lightsaber bounced off the blade of his vibro with an angry snarl, and back they went like fighters to their corners.  Once more they circled, each sizing up the other.  Lire knew he was in no way about to take her for stupid, and she knew that she should not underestimate his skills, either.  He was watching her, waiting for her to make one foolish move that would score a victory for him, but she was waiting for him to lose energy.

     The pair lunged at each other again, blades meeting and locking.  Lire’s lightsaber hissed and popped while Vinn’s vibroblade just flashed in the sun, reflecting bright rays into Lire’s eyes every few minutes.  The lock was held for several minutes while the two stared one another down; Lire had a gut feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse, as well.  This one was a far greater challenge for her than any other of Malak’s underlings.  This one had extensive training as well as a few Force powers and who knew what other weapons concealed beneath that cloak.  Lire wondered if a hidden arsenal was the reason he hadn’t shrugged off his cloak at the dawn of the battle.

     “You cannot win this, Lire Dakaar,” Vinn hissed. “I know who you are.  I know what you are.”

     “Then you’ll know I’m not about to just let you kick my backside from here to Tatooine!”

     With that, Lire broke the lock, spinning away and flicking her ‘saber over her shoulder to shield her back.  It would do no good for her to execute that flawless motion and yet leave her spine open and vulnerable to one quick slice from Vinn’s blade.  She felt the vibroblade knock against her lightsaber and heard Vinn grumble, and she was so grateful she’d remembered to cover her own back.

     Hurriedly, she opened her connection to Carth and tried to send him the sensation that she wasn’t having a good day and needed backup as fast as possible.  She wasn’t sure if he’d receive that little thought blip and understand, but she had experienced stranger things in her lifetime.  She had just barely gotten the “send help” part of her thought out when Vinn almost appeared out of nowhere again, hacking at her with well-aimed, well-timed downward slashes.  Lire wheeled around, blocking as best she could, but his use of surprise had momentarily gained him the upper hand.  Lire backpedaled, forcing herself into a rhythm so she could keep up with this Sith and perhaps win back her advantage.  Force, what she would’ve given for an extra lightsaber . . .  Dual-wielding would’ve been ever so helpful in this situation.

     She eventually managed to recover enough that she wasn’t off-balance and overwhelmed, and she and Vinn traded blows with their blades once more, each expertly parrying or blocking the other.  At one point, Vinn seemed to slow and stumble, but Lire didn’t recognize the fact that it was a feint.  She ducked under his vibroblade to come around and run him through, but when she turned, there he was, ready and waiting.  He just grinned rapaciously at her before he thrust his blade up and forward.  Lire gasped as the blade effortlessly punctured her flesh, stabbing into her side at an unbelievably painful angle.  Blood gushed from her side in an instant, and Vinn gave the blade one merciless twist before wrenching it free.  Lire started to fall, but he caught her by the collar and gave her a hard shove away from him.  She went down, smacking hard against a large, nearby boulder and bruising her ribs; she even thought she heard one crack, and the sharp burst of pain that followed the hit confirmed that.  Her face contorted in agony as she reached over to press a hand to her badly bleeding side; her lightsaber had long since tumbled from her hand.  As she lay there, defeated, wounded, and panting for breath, she berated herself over and over for misjudging him.  Still Vinn’s smirk never faded; instead, he reached down to collect her fallen lightsaber and clean his vibroblade on his cloak.

     “A pity,” he said with a falsely mournful sigh. “I’d’ve thought you’d provide a better challenge than that.”

     “Yeah, well,” Lire wheezed, “I haven’t had a very good day.”

     “Oh, that’s evident.  But my mission here is nearly accomplished.  I merely have to strike you down with one last blow—”  Here he walked over and touched the tip of his blade to her breastbone.  “—and I shall be completed.”

     “You sick, sick son of a—”

     “Now, now,” Vinn chided, crouching down beside her and still wearing that insufferable grin. “Must we resort to vulgarities?”

     “Y’know,” Lire forced out, still wheezing and now clenching her eyes shut. “If I felt better, I’d rip your head off.”

     “You tried, my dear.  You tried.  You also failed.  You, like the rest of your pathetic Order, failed to withstand me.  And once you are gone, I shall have no difficulties whatsoever in securing the Shan girl for my Master.  Killing you, however, will win me great notoriety in his eyes should your amusing little ‘friends’ manage to withhold my Master’s prize from me.”

     “And they would, too,” Lire replied, sliding down the rock and feeling as if she’d left a trail of blood behind.  She hissed in a pained breath from both the gash in her side and her cracked ribs. “I’ve got . . . a Mandalorian . . . and two other Jedi . . . and the best damn Republic pilot in the ‘verse.”

     “Your attempt at courage is admirable, ‘Lire,’ but hardly convincing.”  He pressed his blade tighter against her chest, making her wince in slight pain as he nicked her skin.  “You will die, Lire Dakaar, but it won’t come quickly and painlessly.  There is a reason my Master sent me for you.  He knows I do my work well.  You will suffer by my hand, you foolish Jedi, and before you die, you will scream for mercy.  I swear that to you: that you will beg for death before it comes.”

     “What’re you proposing?” Lire asked with a cough, feeling her strength draining. “Rape?  Torture?  One or the other or all of the above?”

     “Oh, you try so hard,” Vinn tsked. “Too hard.  Should time permit it, you will, as you put it, have all of the above.”

     Lire hadn’t felt much fear before then, but now her heart started pounding so hard that it echoed in her ears.  She opened her mouth to try to scream for help, but Vinn’s hand clenched around her throat, making her gasp.  Now he had a sadistic, evil gleam in his eyes as he kept the point of his blade fitted against her chest.  It was at such an angle that one hard thrust could drive it through her heart.  Vinn leaned in closer—so close, in fact, that Lire tried to flinch away but found she had nowhere to go.

     “And now, Lire Dakaar, you will die.”

     “Not if I have a say.”

     Lire’s head shot up at the familiar voice, and Vinn barely reacted before his breath was suddenly cut off by one length of chain wrapped tightly around his throat, digging into his skin.  His grasp loosened on Lire’s neck, allowing her to inhale a sharp and raspy yet welcome breath.  The chain tightened, causing Vinn to gasp and sputter for even one breath, and his arms flailed wildly about as he choked.  He was nearly to the point of unconsciousness when he managed to gather his strength enough to drive his elbow backwards.  There was a grunt, but the chain loosened, and that split second was all that Vinn needed: he was gone in an instant, vanished into the shadows—vanished as the shadow he claimed to be.  Yet as Lire sagged weakly sideways, she had the startling feeling that that wouldn’t be the last she’d hear of him.

     The next thing she knew, Carth was crouched at her side, holding her steady in his strong arms while he pressed a hand to her badly bleeding side.  She was content just to rest there in his grasp; after all, he had saved her life.  She was breathing heavily and wishing for kolto, but she looked up at Carth with grateful eyes even though she knew he wouldn’t be able to see them.

     “He got you good,” Carth murmured, adjusting his hold on her long enough to tug off his jacket and press it against her side.  It didn’t matter that it was fine bantha leather; it was more important to stop the bleeding than it would be to have to spend hours scrubbing out stains. “Who the hell was he?”

     “One of Malak’s goons,” Lire sighed, hissing in a pained breath when Carth pressed against one of her broken ribs. “Force, that hurt . . .”

     “Sorry.  At least you’re still kickin’ and I got here before he could do anything worse.”

     “What made you come?” Lire asked, grimacing again as she wondered if he’d heard her.

     “Had a moment where it seemed like you were asking for help,” came the reply, confirming Lire’s curiosity. “I would’ve brought backup, but Canderous was taking a leak and Mission was blowing out her eardrums with glimmik.  So you got stuck with me.”

     “Glad of it,” Lire replied, trying to laugh but coughing instead. “Help me up.”

     She struggled to her feet but immediately lost her balance from blood loss.  Carth’s hands were securely around her waist, however, preventing her from falling and holding her steady.  She leaned into his arms, feeling nearly ready to fall unconscious right there.

     “Just . . . get me back to the ship,” she sighed. “I’ll be fine.”

     “The hell you will.  You’re bleeding buckets and about to pass out standing up.  C’mon, now.”

     A moment later, Carth had hefted Lire into his arms so that she could hold onto his shoulders and never have to walk.  His jacket was still pressed firmly against her side; he was in only his trousers and undershirt now but didn’t seem to care.  Lire protested being picked completely up, claiming she’d only wanted a little support.

     “And not to offend you,” she finished, “but you’re blind.”

     “But not paralyzed,” Carth reminded her. “I can still walk, and you’re light, easy to carry, and sighted, so you can give directions.  Besides, I got out here without help, so you just relax; you’ll be in Jolee’s hands before you know it.”

     Lire wasn’t sure how literally to take his command to relax, but she was so exhausted that she didn’t really care.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her tired head against his shoulder as he started walking, and the next thing she knew, she was out cold but very secure in his arms.

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A/N: Yes, Trandor Vinn. Those of you who've read my Finding Hawk will remember him as the bounty hunter antagonist. You may also remember these words of his: “Because once I had the chance to make your mother crawl. I had the chance to watch her die slowly and painfully by my hand, but your father got in the way. I had the chance to kill them both, to make them suffer. I had the chance to gain immense favor with Darth Malak himself for killing them, but your father got in the blasted way! And I swore revenge.” So here's Trandor, Sith-ified and yes, with Force powers but no lightsaber. Why not? Makes ya hate 'im for when he tries to rape Hawk, the poor girl. ANYWAY! I'm so pleased that now I've created a bridge to FH with this chapter. I've been wanting to do this for a very long time. =)