Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Betsy/Star Wars) Fanged Butterfly 2: Knightcross 37/?(R) From: Phil Hartman Date: Mon, 14 Apr 2008 06:49:00 +0000 will1@earthling.net Fanged Butterfly Vol. 2: Knightcross Chapter 37 by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Marvel's are Marvel's. LFL's are LFL's. Any original characters are mine. The rest belong to their owners/creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. WARNING: Themes, imagery, violence. ------------------------------------------------------- 40 ABY: Hyperspace, Heading Unknown: 25 Days after the Battle of Corellia: ------------------------------------------------------- Oh, NOW she was in a mood. #Bloody stupid Chiss Sith ...# Betsy thought, growling as she took the pilot's seat and checked the diagnostics; flying alone for as long as she had, her controls had access to a full engineering report. "She's secured; gave her a dose of tranqarrest, after checking the medcomp on a safe dose for Chiss," Ben said, sitting in the copilot's seat with an emotional roil in the Force. Betsy nodded, then said, as kindly as she could spare and stay focused on the diagnostic, "Stay focused. You did nothing wrong; Neal, how DID our guest get aboard?" "Wrooo twoot deooo," the astromech lamented, and Betsy cursed herself when her screen lit up with the translation: a holoshroud and DNA signature sensor mask. "But how could the Sith get your DNA?" Ben worried, and Betsy considered it ... "Darth Orgone probably grabbed one of my hairs. The Holonet transmission distance between Bastion and Csilla is negligible; Darth Cyan or whoever that schutta is could easily have gotten the DNA code overnight," Betsy pondered ... She turned back to the engineering diagnostic, then cursed, "Motherkriff. A randomizer virus in the navicomputer. It'll avoid obvious deathtraps like black holes, but what SAFE system we land in is totally haywire. And the Holonet system was scrambled before the firewall kicked in. There is some good news; the randomizing is limited to choices in memory." "So we can't leave our known part of the galaxy, but we might end up anywhere IN it? Maybe Ossus or Coruscant ... or Confederacy space," Ben realized, sighing. Betsy managed a smile and replied, "With luck, we'll end up in a civilized system that still likes Jedi. And if not ... we can fly at sublight, and fight, and we have short range communications. And I have good company." Ben smiled gratefully, then said, "Thanks. I just wish I'd sensed her when we boarded." "Well, I didn't either. Ysalamiri do that," Betsy pointed out, and Ben winced in memory as he looked back at the large chameleon like lizard sitting on the Chiss Sith's shoulders as the would be assassin dozed, sitting on one of the kitchenette chairs in ropes. A memory of ... pain ... flickered between Ben and Betsy, and she asked softly, "Do you want to talk about ...?" She didn't want to pressure her nephew, but Betsy knew something about being tortured. And Ben never HAD really talked about his actual Shaping ... Ben managed a weak smile, then said, "I ... it might help, if we have time ...?" "Plenty, since Queen Schutta there karked up the override on the hyperdrive," Betsy said, and Ben took a deep breath. "I ... I walked into this big circular room underneath GAG HQ, and ... I expected thorn vines, right? 'Cause of the Embrace of Pain Caedus tried to put me in on the Ganner," Ben started, managing to meet Betsy's eyes. Pain filled his expression as he continued, "Then the vines ... tore at my clothes ... tore them apart and off of me ... and I was lifted. And these ... Vong things ... SHAVED me, all over ..." Betsy was about to offer to let Ben stop, but the plea in his eyes, for someone to listen, silenced her, and he teared up but radiated gratitude ... before his voice quieted. "Then ... the digging and poking started, and ..." Ben whispered, and he TRIED to continue ... but his sobs cut him off, and Betsy knelt beside his chair and hugged him. "Thanks ... I ... I think I can go on," Ben said, and Betsy sat back in her chair, letting Ben gather his thoughts. After a minute or so, he said, a little sad and a little bitter, "Afterwards ... Jacen helped me get cleaned up. He was so ... PROUD, that I'd been Shaped. He said I'd be a great Sith ... but all I felt was confused and scared and creeped out." Ben's guilt replaced his sorrow, and he said, "The worst thing, looking back, was that I thought I could outsmart Jacen. But he knew the implants would change my DNA ... I saved Gejjen, but I gave in later." "You were genetically altered, though. Jacen took your choice to give in away from you," Betsy reminded Ben. The boy shook his head, politely but resolutely. "He let me choose whether I stayed in the light or fell to the dark, but I CHOSE to forget about all of you, at least for a while. That's why I'm still so ashamed. I love all of you, and Jacen didn't mindrub me ... I CHOSE to be Paxis ... and almost fell, in the meditation chamber when Jacen attacked Coruscant," Ben said, tearing up again. "Almost," Betsy said, and Ben wiped his eyes, smiling a little. "I know I shouldn't feel so guilty. But it scares me, looking back ... I never want to forget who Ben Skywalker is, ever again," Ben said. "We'll help you remember," Betsy promised, and Ben managed a smile as Artoo and Neal toodled. "Indeed, Master Ben. Whatever we can do to assist, we shall," Threepio promised, and Betsy almost smiled at the protocol droid. "Thanks, all of you. So ... right now, what do we do?" Ben asked. "We eat, and we wait to come out of hyperspace ... at ..." Betsy said, checking their destination ... and sighing. "Arbra, of all places." Ben brightened and said, "But the hoojibs helped the Rebels! If we can just find Plif, maybe the old Rebel base still has a navicomputer or a Holonet link." Betsy hoped Ben was right ... because asking hoojibs - small, energy eating, telepathic rabbits with a single antenna on their foreheads - for help seemed like a REAL longshot. But Plif, as close to a leader as hoojibs had, had been an ally of Luke's during the Rebel years. And Arbra was at least forested, with an oxygen atmosphere and little likelihood of Sith OR Confederacy presence. It wasn't Mon Cal, Ossus or Coruscant. But after the near month Betsy and her surrogate family had had, Arbra might be a break. Maybe. ------------------------------------------------------- Landing Pad 337, Berth of Freighter Longshot, AKA Millennium Falcon: Coronet, Corellia, Core Worlds: ------------------------------------------------------- Han and Leia had decided to meet with Luke and Mara in person; the Holonet might be safe for Jedi again, but Hutts could afford better slicers than most governments, and if the Solos had a hope of surprising Gardulla, they needed to keep their comms classified. So, they'd planned to wait a day, then slip out in the confusion of Niathal's latest thrust at one of the Five Sisters' home guard fleets ... until Leia sensed ... or smelled ... a disturbance in the Force, and stopped Han at the landing pad hatch. She lit her lightsaber, and he pulled his blaster, and the door opened ... and a RED AND BLACK TATTOOED GAMMOREAN stood there, a ... lightcleaver? with a red blade, humming in its hands, wearing some black fur as a loincloth. "WHAT in the Maw is THAT?" Han snapped, taking a shot - but the ... Sith ... deflected the bolt, and Leia met the piglike alien in head to head dueling. /My Master demands your DEATHS! Darth Rootus will give him your HEADS!/ the ... Sith Gammorrean squealed, but Leia ignored the taunt. She was having a difficult enough time fighting back the Sith, both his brute strength and his smell - until ... Darth Rootus squealed in pain, and Han held up a curly, bloody tail and his smoking blaster. /CURSE you! This isn't OVER!/ Rootus squealed, running off, and Leia looked at Han with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, it stopped him," Han said, dropping the tail, but Leia picked the gory trophy up and wrapped it in her handkerchief. "No complaints here. I just still find it bizarre Krayt's training more than one Sith. And nobody'll believe a Gammorrean Sith without proof," Leia said as they boarded the Falcon. More ominously, the Sith were on the move, and with Gardulla's bounty on Betsy, AND the Hutts taking over the Confederacy ... Leia wished she could have at least a quiet decade. ------------------------------------------------------- Lair of Gardulla the Hutt, Nar Shaddaa, Nal Hutta System, Hutt Space, Outer Rim, Galactic South: ------------------------------------------------------- {WHAT!? Tarfang was CAPTURED!?} Her Sluggish Extravagance, Gardulla the Languishing, roared in fury as her Twi'lek aide, Bab Drooltuna, winced below her dais, and the Hutt's courtiers went quiet in the spice smoke filled dim room. {A thousand pardons, Your Corpulence. Tarfang did slay a stormtrooper battalion during his escape from the Remnant, but he failed to secure Braddock or the Skywalker boy. They were last seen leaving Csilla on an unknown heading,} Bab pleaded in Huttese. {AARGH! I DEMAND Braddock! And the Skywalker boy will make a fine pet ... BUT ONLY IF I HAVE COMPETENT BOUNTY HUNTERS!!} Gardulla RAGED, her tail lashing Bab. She cast a yellowed, bloodshot eye around the room, and boomed, {I'm paying good money, here, people. I'm not some bombastic male Hutt with more mouth than cash. What's a girl gotta do to get some revenge, huh?} Then a flash of light dropped a crowd of ... even MORE bizarre beings than usual before Gardulla's throne, and a towering female humanoid with blue skin and a black and purple outfit stood, grumbling at the others; she must be the leader, Gardulla decided. The Hutt motioned for her court to lower their blasters, as the newcomers dusted themselves off, and the tall female bowed. "Your ... Largeness. An honor, to meet a fellow female of greatness. I am Gatecrasher, leader of the Technet," the female said in Basic, and Gardulla decided not to have the interlopers shot JUST yet. A little respect went a long way, and Gardulla liked any female who could take charge. Except if they showed HER up, of course. {So, what do you and your entourage do?} Gardulla asked. "We are bounty hunters, Your Grandioseness," Gatecrasher said, and she glanced with a scowl at a tall, scaled male reptoid among the Technet before adding, "In need of work, YES?" "Renumeration at earliest opportunity, yes," the wide eyed male said, and Gardulla chuckled. {You amuse me. I think we can help each other. I have a Jedi and her young apprentice I want captured alive - BAB! The holoposter!} Gardulla bellowed, and her aide turned on the holotank, to show the targets. Gatecrasher's greedy smile became ... blissful, and her pack of rowdy hunters gaped or gasped. "BRADDOCK? Your Largeness, we would be ... ELATED to assist you," Gatecrasher said, and she and Gardulla began to laugh. Maybe Gardulla wouldn't have to eat a Jawa to vent. ------------------------------------------------------- Arbra, Mid Rim, Galactic West: ------------------------------------------------------- The landing had gone well; except for that kriffing navicomputer, the Wing was in decent shape. Darth Elevation - WHERE the Sith were getting these names, Betsy had NO idea - was now locked in the same cargo hold that Phenirr had occupied. She cast about telepathically, checking the glade where they'd landed, as Ben and Artoo headed for the old Rebel base. Threepio, being of little use translating for telepathic rabbits, had remained behind, trying to help Neal debug the navicomp. Betsy had little hope the protocol droid could actually do it, but at least he was trying to help. Betsy headed after Ben's Force signature, glad of the boy's lightening of spirit; he'd seemed happier after he got that awful memory off his chest, and Arbra's light side Force vibrance and sunshine made the day merrier. She smiled when he called joyfully through the Force, and found him and Artoo stopped before a cave,with a bunch of big eyed, floppy eared ... well, rabbits with single antennae on their heads, seemingly without mouths, looking at Ben and radiating kind greetings in the Force and astral plane. Ben waved Betsy over, smiling, and she knelt beside him as he nodded at a rather old hoojib. "Jedi Master Betsy Braddock, meet Plif. Plif, this is my teacher and aunt," Ben said, as the hoojib looked at Betsy with curious kindness. ~Greetings, Master Braddock. I apologize for our lack of shipyards, but Arbra asked to be left in peace after the Galactic Civil War. It's a joy to meet the son of my old friend Luke, as well as members of the restored Jedi Order,~ Plif sent, in a male voice. ~Glad to meet you, Plif. I understand the desire to have a peaceful world, and the absence of shipyards. Might you know of any navicomputers or communications devices we could access?~ Betsy asked. Plif seemed to sigh, and replied, ~Unfortunately, no. The Rebels were thorough when they cleared out their base. However ... while your travels may be random, I would ask if I might accompany you. I have missed the greater galaxy, and hoojib culture, such as it is, is stable here. I'd like to assist the efforts to keep the galaxy from destroying itself.~ Ben and Betsy shrugged, and Ben smiled. /That'd be great, Plif. Dad'd like to see you, I bet,/ Ben said, letting Plif hop onto his shoulder. ~Thank you, Ben. It is good, to stand beside a Skywalker and other Jedi again against the dark ... is that the Sith you warned me about?~ Plif asked, and Betsy and Ben turned - as their comlinks shrieked with Threepio's shrill warning, "Mistress Elizabeth! Master Ben! Darth Elevation has ESCAPED!" "And she kept the ysalamir. Bloody BRILLIANT," Betsy growled, igniting her lightsaber as the Chiss ignited her ... right arm ... "You cannot escape Arbra, Braddock. Not without risking a wild hyperspace jump, and the viral cure exists only in my mind ... surrender, and I can assure your death will be quick," Elevation - where were the Sith coming UP with these idiotic names, Betsy wondered? - taunted, the ysalamir around her neck and her wrist projecting a red blade. ~Coward! Hiding behind an innocent creature and threatening good people! We won't let you get away with this!~ Plif snapped, and Betsy raised an eyebrow... as the glow of Elevation's lightsaber died, and the hoojibs seemed ... sated. #Amazing! They ATE her power cell dry!# Betsy thought, heading at Elevation - but the Chiss cursed, and threw the ysalamir at Betsy, then stabbed herself with a vibroshiv. "NO! You can surrender - no ..." Ben moaned, as the Chiss' Force signature died away. He wiped his eyes, while Betsy struggled with the ysalamir, who wrapped himself around HER neck. "I'm sorry, Ben. I didn't want to kill her," Betsy said, and the boy smiled sadly, checking on Betsy before he started gathering brush. "If I'm careful, may I ... I know she's Sith, but burying her might create a dark side nexus. The hoojibs don't deserve that," Ben asked, and Plif and the other hoojibs nodded. ~A pyre would be wisest, if you approve, Master Braddock,~ Plif sent, and Betsy nodded; it would, at least, minimize the risk of corruption. "I'll help you. Right after I figure out what to do about this bloody ysalamir," Betsy grumbled, the reptile clinging to her shoulders. The ysalamir didn't deserve to be slain, of course, but Betsy DID need access to the Force. She managed to remove the reptile, but caught Ben's concerned look. "Jacen taught me how to care for ysalamiri. We could find some plants with a good metal content, and he'd be OK," Ben said, and Betsy smiled at the boy's compassion. "Tell you what: You find our little friend a new home, and I'll deal with that corpse," Betsy offered. Ben gratefully accepted the ysalamir, and followed Plif's guidance toward a thicket, while Betsy let the Force refresh her. #Now, to get rid of that stupid Sith ... stupid Krayt,# Betsy thought, scowling. She could try to deathread the Sith, but decided the retrocognitive technique was unwise, at best, dark side at worst. Betsy finished gathering brush and ignited it with her lightsaber, keeping an eye on the Chiss; she remembered how "dead" poor Darth Shenbit had proven to be, and the last thing Betsy wanted was to cause any more pain to even this deluded assassin. The Chiss woman was younger than Valin, Betsy realized, and she had to wonder, why would someone turn at such a YOUNG age? The temptation of power? Pain? She sighed, looking at Ben,who released the ysalamir and smiled at Plif, and marveled yet again that her nephew had refused the darkness. Betsy was even more determined to protect Ben, to help him ... and she was glad of the ability to focus past her own issues. If the Chiss were correct, and Formbi had little reason to deceive Betsy now that she knew where Earth was, she had traveled back in time when she'd landed on Sernpidal. But she'd still aged 15 years ... almost 16 ... while back home, everyone she'd known, her brother Brian, sister-in-law Meggan, and her fellow X-Men and other friends had only aged 10 months. The culture shock of the reality of the Jedi alone would be a body blow to her fellow mutants, much less the existence of a third Grey sister (fourth if you counted Madelyne). But a gap of 15 years of experiences ... Betsy tried not to let her grief overwhelm her, and she used an energy manipulation technique to accelerate the Sith's pyre before sitting on a log. She'd saved lives, fought alongside and been accepted by good people, found loves and a measure of peace. But the sheer weight of the distance from Earth ... both in light years and in experiences ... haunted Betsy. Badly. It could draw her into the dark, this despair, if she let it. Those first few months after Sernpidal, during Betsy's early Force training, had been similar; the WOW, I'm In Star Wars! factor had worn off, especially after the Vong War had become widespread. But she wasn't a Padawan or a fangirl anymore, and she had help. Ben sat beside her, Plif on his shoulder, and Artoo rolled over. Ben deliberately avoided looking at the pyre, then asked, worried, "You're not OK, are you?" Betsy ruffled his hair and smiled wanly, replying, "Not entirely. But I will be. Let's meditate, shall we?" They got off the log and sat crosslegged, and Betsy let the Force fill her, glad for Ben that he could relax ... and she remembered Ossus, and Tionne's lessons. ************************************* 25 ABY: Jedi Praxeum, Ossus, Outer Rim, Galactic East: ----------------------------------------------------- Betsy sat, adjusting her new robes - JEDI robes! - and calmed herself; she had to make a sincere effort if she was going to be of any help in this war. The silver haired Master, Tionne, smiled and sat across the meditation circle from the mutant. "Your focus is to be commended, Elizabeth. However, do not use your telepathy in conjunction with the Force, this time," the other woman said. "Yes, Master," Betsy agreed; she felt she owed Tionne at least the same respect due a martial arts master back on Earth. /As honored as I am, you may feel free to call me Tionne. You are my age, and an accomplished warrior in your own right, from what you have shared with us,/ Tionne offered through the Force, and Betsy smiled. /Thank you. I just don't want to cut corners or ask for special treatment .../ Betsy replied, sinking into the Force. It was a more primal, fundamental sense than telepathy, Betsy had come to realize. Purer, deeper ... /Sense the connections between us ... between the objects in the room ... even between the air. Your control is excellent, but you must unlearn refined focus and grasp the Force before you can channel it as you do your innate telepathy,/ Tionne encouraged. Betsy closed her eyes ... and trusted. The usual riot of colors seemed to calm, and she let Tionne guide her, then repeated the exercise ... and Betsy gasped, opening her eyes to see a host of small objects floating around her. Her telekinesis was back. WITH her telepathy. The objects fell harmlessly, and Tionne smiled despite Betsy's loss of focus. "You HAVE taken that legendary first step into a wider world," Tionne congratulated Betsy ... -------------------------------------------------- She opened her eyes, and saw Ben smiling at her in awe, Plif also admiring, as Artoo whistled. A small circle of leaves was winding around Betsy, and she dismissed it, feeling ... better. "Come on, crew. Let's see where navicomputer roulette lands us," Betsy said, leading them back to the Wing. Two Jedi, three droids and a hoojib? Betsy liked those odds. -------------------------------------------------- tbc ...