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Legends of Darkover	By : SWOTBWOT Category: Star Wars (All) > Crossovers Views: 3427 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Trek, or Darkover. I am not making any money off this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Legends of Darkover
- 2-Chapter 2
- 3-Chapter 3
- 4-Chapter 4
- 5-Chapter 5
- 6-Chapter 6
- 7-Chapter 7
- 8-Chapter 8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29 & The End
- 21
- 22
- 23
Chapter 22
-oOo-
Tyranus hurried his little group into the next room. The walls spread out into a natural cavern, complete with stalactites. Three half-rotted wooden wheelbarrows were lined up against the wall, and Tyranus recognized metal hammerheads and picks strewn along the floor. Instantly, he understood the nature of the room.
A metal cage was hanging from a set of cables. Unlike the primitive tools, there was something bright and modern about the workmanship of the cage. Apparently Darkovans of the past had saved their advanced technology for the items they thought most important.
With no warning he shoved Danilo forwards and swung the cage's door shut. His fist popped a lever, and Danilo screamed his lungs out as he plunged straight down into darkness. The cage fell with terrific speed.
“Stop screaming, boy. I checked the cables first!” Tyranus called after him.
The cage came to a halt. For a long moment Danilo couldn't move. He was lying on his side, half-paralyzed and groggy from shock. His shoulder hurt like hell. Some distant part of him was sounding an alarm, telling him that neither the fall nor the injury was enough to account for his confused state, but he could not concentrate.
This was no way for a paxman to act, he scolded himself. He was momentarily out of reach of the Sith, and he must take advantage of this. He sat up, sniffing the cold air into his lungs to revive himself, and took stock. He was sitting in total darkness. He could detect the hard, bumpy floor of the cage beneath him, and the sound of water dripping.
“I can't see. Can you shine a light?” he called upwards.
Something fell and clanged beside him. They'd thrown a light down. The lightstick lay at an awkward angle, and illuminated little except for the area by his feet. Danilo picked up the glowing rod behind his back with his bound hands, pawing, scrunching his face up at the complaint in his shoulder. Then he rolled to his feet and studied his surroundings. There was just enough faint light to show the outline of the cage.
“What do you see?” Tyranus bawled.
“Little,” said Danilo, searching for the cage's door. He found a lever and pushed an elbow through the bars, trying to ignore the spear of pain in his shoulder. There—the lever was over his elbow, and he lifted. The bar swung and the door released. He stepped out, looking around wildly. Was there another way out? Any way to escape?
A hand landed on his wounded shoulder and he fell to his knees, lost in an explosion of agony.
-oOo-
It took far too long to dig his way through the huge mass of earth that blocked the entrance to the corridor. Qui-gon hacked savagely with his lightsaber. He shattered rocks with the Force, and slammed them aside. He could not locate Catriona with the Force. More disturbingly, she could not find him--if she was even trying.
Yet something came through the Force anyway, a wrongness.
He'd taken too long, and he knew it.
He shoved his body into the small, half-collapsed opening in the passageway, scooting debris ahead of himself. When he reached the room beyond, Force Sight gave him a vision. He was looking at a pit, the wreckage of mosaics, and a stone chalice.
Something tried to grab him from behind. Qui-gon Force-jumped on the other side of the pit, lightsaber in his left hand, blaster in his injured right. A presence was floating in the air over the pit, invisible, and Qui-gon could feel its darkness. He must find the matrix that anchored this thing, quickly.
Most disturbing of all, the darkness felt familiar. It tasted of the High Inquisitor, yet not.
What had Inculcare done? Had he bound himself to a matrix that still retained an ancient personality? The Jedi's eyes searched everywhere. Matrix stones rimmed the chalice, their light impossible to focus on, a no-light unresponsive to Force-sight. But there in the middle, a blue matrix flickered with uneven pulses energy, mottled and cloudy. It too, was familiar, and it--
He understood. He must stall long enough to search for the other stone. “We've not been introduced,” said Qui-gon. “I am Master Jinn. I believe you are Sicul Alton.”
The outline of a white-haired figure appeared. -You are mistaken. No one of that name still lives.-
The Voice sounded sincere. Qui-gon let the detail pass. “From your features you appear to be a member of this planet's original race. What was the phrase I read during my briefing? 'The chieri do not have human emotions, and human ethics are strange to them.' Your telepathic links with the rest of your species are substitutes for such concepts, creating intuitively-based structures of order in your society, whereas non-telepaths like humans must use artificial mental constructs such as 'justice' and 'ethics,' to regulate their own behaviors.”
As he spoke, the Jedi Master scoured the walls with Force-sight.   A naked man was placing a red matrix in the center of a chalice, the twin of the larger stonework cup.
“But one day a chieri left his own kind. Away from his people, there were no mental checks to control his behavior. The humans around him had laran too weak to resist his own, and anyway, he did not understand them. But he understood their weapons all too well. Their construction became his obsession. He loathed humans. He did not care for the way they had arrived on his world, taking over the habitable areas and pushing the chieri out. He wished to destroy every human on the planet, and one day, he put his plan in motion. Is that how it went?”
-Your fanciful narrative amuses, faulty though it is. I cannot kill, and have never killed.-
“You are a liar,” said Qui-gon politely.
-I do not lie. It is you who do not understand my words. Nor am I Sicul Alton.-
“Pardon me, but I've seen your features before. Marius Hastur showed me your face when he BURNED IT RIGHT OFF YOUR SKULL.”
With those words, Qui-gon shot the mosaic-chalice with his blaster, hitting the red matrix on the wall dead center. The bolt made the stone burn bright as a coal, and the jewel shattered.
The chieri disappeared.
Qui-gon scanned the room. All feeling of the chieri's presence was gone.
Instantly, the Jedi vaulted back over the pit. His lightsaber touched each of the dark crystals around the chalice's rim in turn, superheating and distorting the stones until they cracked and splintered one by one. Then he carefully took a handkerchief, and without touching the blue gem, he wrapped it up, praying its owner was still alive and sane. With his gentlest touch he placed Catriona's matrix in his pouch.
There was a large opening in the shattered mosaic of Lake Hali. As he approached it, he wondered why Alton's personal stone had been made part of the artwork. There was something trophy-like about the display that seemed off-kilter to do to your own most valuable possession.
A sense of Dark Force flowed in around him, filling the room like a wave. Qui-gon staggered under the push, and dashed ahead into the corridor. The room behind was filling with the Dark Side, as was the corridor under his feet, and the room ahead.
“WHAT!?” he exclaimed.
The Dark felt different this time. It contained no essence of the High Inquisitor, yet was very much part of the thing Alton had been. How and why had it reconstituted itself?
-oOo-
When Danilo could raise his head, the bite in his shoulder easing a little, he turned to see who was behind him. He met a blinding light pointing directly in his eyes.
“Well, my good fortune continues. You literally drop out of the ceiling into my hands.”
It was the voice of the High Inquisitor. Danilo's fear was weary and leaden by now. He felt ready to do something crazy just to end all this.
“You two walk in front. My blaster and lightsaber are both out, and if you attempt to run off, boy, I'll sever her head, then yours.”
/You two? Hers?/ Danilo strained his laran, but detected nothing but a thick, enveloping darkness. “Who--?”
“Catriona,” she said.
He swore.
The other figure seemed to droop a little.
“I'm sorry. I meant the situation, not you,” said Danilo.
“Start walking,” Inculcare commanded. “Head for that archway over there.”
Something was wrong with her. Catriona's mental silence was total. Danilo strained his dona with all his might, trying to match his laran to hers, and clawed through a dark cloud. He caught only a faint scent of emotions. She was crushed, bleak, desperate. Briefly, he saw the outlines of her channels.
He looked away, and wanted to tear apart the man walking behind him. But why was he having trouble reading her? This hadn't happened when she'd lost her laran before.
“Who was that boy walking with you earlier?” Inculcare asked.
“Regis Hastur,” Catriona replied. Danilo's hairs stood up. She had told him without any resistance. Was she that broken?
“Hastur? HASTUR?” Inculcare repeated in a voice of surprise. “Is he a telepath?”
“Yes,” Catriona said lifelessly.
“Is he a strong one?”
“I do not know, never having measured his strength. He has not been trained beyond the basics, however.”
Danilo's stomach was queasy. He could not believe she would just give Regis away like that, but then, had she said anything actually harmful?
“Are there many Hasturs on Darkover?” Inculcare asked.
“A few. They are currently our ruling family.”
Danilo recognized the hedging in her words.
“And where does this Regis stand in relation to them?”
“He is heir to Danvan Hastur, the current Regent.”
“Did you have to say that?” said Danilo, trying to probe her strangeness.
Inculcare laughed.
“I am compelled,” she replied.
Instantly, the paxman in Danilo was alert. What did she mean by compelled? Nobody could compel a leronis against her will.
“Trap ma--”
“That's enough,” Inculcare barked. “No more talking to the boy. We're nearly under the arch. Danilo, you enter first.”
Danilo blinked slowly, but obeyed. She was caught in a trap matrix. He knew little of them, except that--
He tripped, and fell forwards against something that felt alive. He cried out in surprise as an arm locked around his neck. The hum of a lightsaber was close to his face.
“You talked so long you left me plenty of time to join the party,” said Tyranus, grinning unpleasantly at his rival.
-oOo-
For a long moment the two Sith lords studied each other. A sound came from a clattering cage rising and lowering, and they were joined by the droideka.
-Do not slay him outright. I desire his strength. Trick him,- said the Voice.
Inculcare turned his head slightly. Though positive he could kill them all with his new strength, the droideka had a blaster pointed at Catriona, and Tyranus was holding the boy. Nor was Tyranus slow.
The High Inquisitor reflected. When playing chess, Tyranus had always been the sort to kick over the board in a rage when he found the game going against himself. He would immediately kill the two Darkovans if he thought he was going to lose to his rival, and Inculcare wanted those captured pieces. Even more, he wanted to win the game.
“Very well. Accompany us, then,” said the High Inquisitor easily. “The girl is under my control, and will obey all my commands.”
“I think not,” said Tyranus.
“I repeat, she is UNDER MY CONTROL. The Force bond is not breakable. You will have to be content with the boy.”
Inculcare felt the other man glowering, but Tyranus stayed silent, pondering the words.
“All right, one for each of us,” said Tyranus. “Start walking, boy.” He held the lightsaber's tip an inch away from Danilo's head.
“Could someone shine a light? I can't see,” said Danilo.
Inculcare pointed the lightstick so it illuminated a carved path through the damp, mineral-stained floor. There seemed to be something ahead, a faint breath of fog that diffused the light. It was cold, and Inculcare wasn't surprised to see moisture condensing.
“We were having a conversation,” continued Inculcare pleasantly, “about Regis Hastur. I want to learn more. How did he arrive on board the Raptor?”
“A Jedi brought him, unaware that Regis had stowed away on board their ship,” said Catriona
“I see. Why did he go to all the effort?”
“He is the lover of my cousin, Danilo.”
“HE IS NOT!” Danilo shouted with all his heat. “Dom Regis is my friend and lord, and that is ALL that is between us. We have never done ANYTHING improper!”
“Do I have to hear this?” Tyranus groaned.
“I haven't heard such vehement denials since my last real torture session,” Inculcare commented. “Hang on a moment, I've just had a thought. If you've never managed to get up to anything with your boyfriend, I suppose I must have given you your first kiss.”
Danilo flushed completely red and refused to respond.
“So your current inhibitions are all my fault?” Inculcare chuckled. “I really am quite the expert at destroying lives, wouldn't you say, Catriona?”
There was a long silence.
“Catriona,” Inculcare prompted, his voice suddenly ugly.
“Yes,” she said in a hollow tone.
Clearing his throat with contempt, Tyranus said, “I know you were forced to leave your beloved holo-soaps back home, Leron, but must you show such puerile interest in the love-lives of these wretched teenagers to make up for the deficit?”
Inculcare pondered his rival's back for a moment. If it weren't for the fact that he did, sort of, have a bargain with the Voice to 'contribute' Darth Tyranus, and that he did very much like the notion of making the other Sith lord his incorporeal slave for eternity, he would have Force-impaled the man on a handy stalagmite.
-oOo-
Danilo continued on in Tyranus' grip, aching, half-wild at the filthiness of the foreign monsters. He was too upset to concentrate, but ancient senses bred into his genes continued to work on their own. He heard a brief, confused whisper in his laran, an insane babble of several voices speaking at once.
A little piece of mist had drifted past his head, that was all.
He looked around. More tiny wisps, greyish-blue in the light, oozed out of cracks in the ceiling and walls. After a moment of staring, he recognized them. They were the mists of Lake Hali, leaking in through the cracks. Had they traveled so near the lake, then?
“Why have you stopped?” Tyranus demanded.
“There is—a large gap in the floor ahead,” said Danilo, noticing a missing section and glad it made a proper excuse. He wondered how to warn Catriona about the mists.
Inculcare interrupted with a convulsive, choking noise. Tyranus glanced back quickly, as if suspecting some trick.
In another room, Qui-gon had just shot a matrix to pieces.
The High Inquisitor staggered, and Danilo realized his distress could not be faked. Was it possible to escape?!
No, Tyranus still had that lightsaber at his throat, but the Sith lord was staring back at Inculcare, weighing, assessing.
Suddenly Tyranus let go and raced towards his rival, saber and blaster at ready. With a opportunist's instincts, he swung directly at the High Inquisitor. “Fire at Inculcare!” he bellowed at the droideka.
Wildly, Danilo called Catriona's name. But she too, seemed to be in the throws of something odd. The dark laran around her faded, and he could sense her mind for the first time, see the frantic swirl of realization inside her. She took off running. With a burst of joy at her response, Danilo ran with her, heading for the gap.
“How wide--” Catriona gasped.
“Length of my body.”
Desperate, they both sped up. At the edge they pushed off and jumped, knowing they could not stop, could not fail.
Catriona made the leap. Danilo, with his hands tied behind him, caught a foot on the edge and fell hard to his knees. He turned the motion into a roll, and was completely felled by the knifing pain in his wounded shoulder as he struck the ground. For a few seconds he could neither see nor hear, enveloped in pulsing agony. Trying to endure the constant pain was exhausting him.
“Danilo! Are you all right?”
“Not really,” he called back faintly. “My shoulder is the trouble.”
“You must get up.” She pulled him into a sitting position, and he somehow came to his feet. They ran on. Behind them they could hear the electronic scream of lightsabers clashing, and voices shouting.
“The way narrows. Go!” Catriona urged.
“But--”
“Go first!”
Danilo obeyed reluctantly, but she had some small use of the Aillard dona despite her misflowing channels, and he had nothing but two bound wrists. He sped up, unaware that she had stopped to look back.
Qui-gon Jinn was standing on the path between the escapees and the Sith lords.
Catriona knew his odds against two Sith were poor, especially with a broken arm and ribs. Her laran was fouled, but even a damaged keeper could lend aid, if she was brave enough.
She ran back and leapt the gap again. She headed directly for Inculcare, calling on the lightning that was the keeper's greatest weapon, remembering the fearlessness with which Domna Ysabet had sacrificed herself.
-oOo-
Up ahead Danilo stumbled on, unaware she'd dropped behind. He was hurtling towards a scintillation that he realized must be a veil even as it parted, letting him careen through. Too late, he stopped with a skid.
He was in a chamber. He staggered around in a circle, trying to make out where he was. Faint light came from the walls, lights from thousands of matrices, their glow crisscrossing the room with dancing prisms. They were imbedded in the walls like honey in a comb, some the size of fingernails, others larger than his hand.
Someone stood up from a chair. The scraping noise made Danilo startle. The room brightened.
The figure was familiar--appallingly familiar.
-So, you finally return to me, Syrtis?-
Danilo eased backwards.
-I have closed the veil. You cannot leave.-
Glancing through the scintillation, Danilo could see figures moving, but very slowly, and in absolute silence despite the shouts he knew they must be producing. It was like he had entered a world where time ran differently. He saw Catriona among them, and was shocked to see she'd gone back.
Slowly, he faced the other person again, praying he was looking at an illusion. He hadn't thought it possible to get into even worse trouble than before, yet here he was.
“You're not—Sicul Alton, are you?” he asked, his voice shooting skywards. The eyes were every bit as awful to look at as in the mosaics.
-Do I resemble him? You saw his face.-
“N—no. Who are you, then?”
“You cannot tell from the portraits created by my worshipers?” said a flesh-and-blood voice. “I am Zandru.”
-oOo-
- 21
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Legends of Darkover