momslilassassin | Abeloth's Homeworld [several minutes later]

As the Rude Awakening sped onward, the fire-rimmed orbs ahead rapidly began to swell and drift apart, leaving the area between them webbed with blazing whorls of accretion gas. Against this brilliant backdrop, Ship also began to swell, growing from a propulsion halo the size of a dust mote to a dark sphere as large as Jaina’s thumb.

A constant stream of fire streaked back and forth between the two vessels, cannon bolts from the Awakening and plasma bulbs from Ship. Both vessels were taking the attacks dead center in the forward shields, making no attempt to evade. With the grasping hand of a black hole reaching from both sides of an ever-narrowing safe corridor, there was no room to maneuver or flee. Flying skill and combat training did not matter: pilots had one choice and one choice only: punch it out head-on.

And in that kind of fight, it was usually the pilot who attacked quickest and hardest who survived. Jaina checked the range and, seeing that the two vessels were closing in even faster than she thought, armed the Rude Awakening’s first missile. Jaina had chosen the Rude Awakening for good reason: it was a Void Jumper assault pinnace. That meant it could get in fast, evade detection, take a beating, and deliver a devastating attack. It was one of the most fearsome tactical combat vessels in the galaxy, designed to go head-to-head with a Mandalorian Bes’uliik and be the craft that emerged from the fireball. Jaina could not imagine any better combat transport to fly head-on against Ship—especially not after she had fitted the entire missile magazine with baradium warheads.

Talk about a rude awakening. Heh.

The targeting computer chimed once, announcing that the two crafts had closed to effective missile range. Jaina did not bother to try for a target-lock—Ship would defeat it anyway, and in this fight a quick attack was everything. She simply launched, then pulled the throttles back so the Awakening would not be inside the lethal radius when the baradium detonated. The blazing white disk of a thrust ring appeared in front of the cockpit then, as the missile streaked away, quickly shrank to a white dot. In the next instant a tiny gray dot appeared in front of the Awakening.

In an eyeblink, it expanded into the gray, oblong lump of one of Ship’s Force-hurled stones. Fighting the urge to dodge—a mistake that might well have carried them across a nearby event horizon—Jaina held the pinnace steady and thumbed the intercom pad on her control yoke.

“Brace for impact back there,” she said. “This one is going to take down our shields.”

Luke	As the ship shuddered and buckled around them, Luke stood up and gave Tara a little smile. "Let's go strap ourselves into the gurneys in the medical unit. That way no one has to worry about us falling over while we're busy."
Tara	"Probably a good idea," Tara said, also standing. "It ... feels like the ride might be a little rocky, anyhow. We don't need distractions."
Luke	Luke led the way to the med unit, trusting in Jaina's piloting skills to keep them alive. He sat down on one gurney, then looked at Tara. "How does this work for you? Do you need to be touching the other person?"
Tara	"It's easier if I am," Tara said, sitting to face him. "I'm going to cast a circle, which basically means I'm ... sprinkling some smelly stuff. And then I'll take your hand, and ... a spell would help. Do you have a name for where you're going, besides the astral plane?" It wouldn't be hard to jerry-rig something vague, she thought, but being precise was always useful.
Luke	Luke thought about the vision he'd shared with the other Masters, the one that showed Ben and Vestara locked in combat, and about the last time he'd made this trip. "We're going to the Lake of Apparitions," he decided.
Tara	"Lake of Apparitions," Tara repeated, thinking good name. "Okay. Just uh ... one minute." She went to her bag for a small vial of mixed salt and herbs, and another, smaller one of some liquid that smelled a bit like cinnamon and a bit like ammonia. She mixed them together, then, rbow furrowed, scattered them in a tight circle around the two gurneys as she chanted something under her breath. Once that was done, she took a seat on a gurney and offered her hands to Luke. "Just -- hold where you're going in your mind's eye," she instructed. "I'll try to pull you back if things go wrong." She managed a crooked smile. "Ready?"
Luke	The ship shook slightly, but Luke ignored that and nodded. "Ready." He closed his eyes called to mind the a narrow mountain lake nestled between a granite dome and a boulder-strewn meadow with hummocks of knee-high moss, and then he was there, standing on the shore of the Lake of Apparitions, looking across its still, black waters toward the silver mists that concealed the far end. There was no silhouette floating in the fog, no half–hidden woman beckoning him onward. Abeloth was nowhere to be seen. Of course she wasn't: Luke was the one looking for the fight. Abeloth was busy trying to turn Vestara and Ben into a twisted family. Back on the ship, Luke's eyes had fluttered closed and his breath was coming slow and evenly.
Tara	Tara gripped his hands and chanted softly, reaching out with her mind until she could just about see through Luke's eyes. Mist -- she saw mists, a lake, a figure. She felt a hint of a thrill when she realized it was working, pressed it down and back. This wasn't about her; bringing in an ego was a good way to corrupt magic, or let it corrupt you. <<You should be in>>, she thought at him, voice free of her stammer. To Luke, it would seem as though the voice was a part of the mists. <<Feeling okay?>>
Luke	<<Yes,>> Luke sent back. <<Can you see any of this?>>
Tara	<<I think>>, Tara said, hesitant. <<There's Fog. Water. Piles of -- moss, over there. Is this a real place?>>
Luke	<<It's the planet Abeloth was originally trapped on,>> Luke explained as he stepped into the water. Soon, the boulders along the shore began to cast reflections not of themselves, but of the faces of the dead—Wookiees, Barabels, humans, a hundred other species. Their eyes all seemed to be watching Luke as he passed. He ignored them all until he saw the one he was looking for—a slender female face framed by Ben's distinctive auburn hair, with high cheekbones, full lips, and large green eyes. She watched Luke approach with longing, and with growing concern. He stopped beside her and squatted on his heels, waiting for her face to float to the surface. As soon as her face broke the surface, she raised her brow and said, “We can’t keep meeting like this, Skywalker.” Meet Ben's mom, Tara.
Tara	Tara was puzzled by the seeming familiarity, and a question half formed itself before she recognized that hair and something in Luke's bearing told her the rest of the story. She pulled herself, back, becoming a bit less in the scene. <<Let me know if you need me>>, she sent, and settled in to watch this play out. It was a risk, but intruding more than she needed to might be more of one.
Luke	“Mara, I need your help. Can you help me draw Abeloth out?” Mara studied him in silence for a moment, then shook her head. “You can’t kill her, Luke. She’s one of the Old Ones.” “It doesn’t matter what she is,” Luke said, more sternly than he had intended. “She’s taken Ben.” Mara looked heartbroken, but she didn't say anything. “I just need to know her weak points, or how to find her in the Mists of Forgetfulness,” he added. “Anything that will help me stop her before she … before she does something terrible to Ben.” “We can’t help you," Mara whispered. Luke sat there, stunned to hear that, as the mists behind him began to part, and a gray silhouette just emerged, her long saffron hair cascading almost down to the water, her tiny pinpoint eyes shining out of sockets as deep as wells. Luke, focused on Mara, hadn't noticed yet.
Tara	<<TURN AROUND!>>> Okay, so maybe Tara's plan not to interfere would only last so long. But she had a feeling that pinpoint eyes were never, ever good.
Luke & Abeloth	Luke’s hand dropped to his hip, automatically reaching for a lightsaber that did not exist beyond shadows. He tried to continue the motion and bring it up to deliver a blast of Force energy, but Abeloth had already launched her own attack by then, delivering a bolt of Force lightning that blasted straight into Luke. He felt himself fly backward, consumed by pain, his entire being a column of blue, crackling Force flame. It could have been much, much worse, he knew, if he hadn't had Tara's extra level of protection. <<You still there?>>
Tara	There were no words at first; Tara was wincing in sympathetic pain. But eventually, she found her mental voice. <Yes,>> she said. <<Do we need a healer? Should -- should I pull you out?>> It would be giving up, but giving up and alive was better than fighting until you were dead.
Luke	Luke shook his head, half in answer to Tara's question, half to try to get his thoughts to line back up. <<We won't get another shot at this.>> He leaped back at her. An indeterminable amount of time later (it could be moments, it could be hours), the white points at the bottom of Abeloth’s eyes flared into nests of blue lightning, which kept growing larger and flashing brighter until they finally spilled out of the sockets to engulf her whole head. Luke hurled another blast of Force energy in her direction, then braced himself to take the counterattack, but it never came. Instead, the Force blast rocked Abeloth up on one leg, where she hung teetering over the Lake of Apparitions for a thousand heartbeats. Luke took that break in the fight to take a quick self-assessment: his chest was a searing ache around a fist-sized scorch hole, and his Force essence was bleeding out from a dozen smaller wounds, but this was the first time anything he'd done to Abeloth had seemed to affect her even a little bit. Here beyond shadows hand-to-hand combat worked differently: there were no pressure points or joints to snap, there was one Force presence against the other...and Luke wasn't a god. <<You doing okay back there?>> he checked, sounding a little pained despite himself.
Tara	<<Yeah, of course>> For certain varieties of okay, anyhow. Tara never exactly liked to watch fighting, and seeing Luke's wound gave her a sympathetic stab in the chest. But. Sympatyhetic pain wasn't the same thing as actual pain, and the important thing was to remain steady. On her gurney, Tara twitched and her lips moved as she recentered herself within the trance. <<Do you think you can take her out this way?>>
Luke	<<Not alone,>> Luke admitted. <<I need the people on Coruscant, and Ben and Vestara, to be fighting too. But Abeloths's weakening more than she has in any of my other fights against her. I think they're helping too.>>
Tara	<<Good. So just -- hold on, and we'll make it through this. The ship is fine.>> As much as she could tell from a gurney with her eyes closed and the majority of her consciousness elsewhere, anyhow. She wished she could heal. << A couple more good blows here and some from them, and she'll go down.>>
Abeloth and Luke	Almost as if Abeloth had been able to hear their conversation (and with Abeloth, it wasn't wise to assume she couldn't), she launched herself back at him, a tangled mass of appendages and tentacles and anger. They bounced across the Lake of Apparitions together, so close to the shore that Luke feared she was going to take them into some new place beyond shadows and then what? He planted his feet against the nearest stone and sent them spinning back to the center of the lake. Abeloth began shrinking and Luke allowed himself to hope that that maybe, just maybe she had finally lost hope, that their combined efforts had exhausted her to the point that she was no longer capable of fighting. In the next thought Abeloth was driving a ball of tentacles deep into him. Luke felt a blistering iciness slide deep into his chest as his entire right side flared into cold anguish, and the tentacles began to dig and grab, tearing him apart inside in a way no lightsaber or blaster ever could. He could only imagine the anguish he'd be feeling if he hadn't had Tara's extra level of protection around him.
Tara	As much as she could control or shape the experience, Tara was trying to spare Luke the anguish. She couldn't heal, but she concentrated hard on the idea Luke shouldn't feel all of the pain, not right then, and hoped it did something since she was making it up on the fly. She lost her train of thought entirely as the tentacles grabbed. <<Say the word and I'll try to pull you out.>> It was easier, saying that in a mental voice; if she'd said it aloud she wasn't sure she could have gotten the words out.
Luke	It wasn't really a word as it was a shriek of anguish, both in the spiritual realm and right there on the ship. Abeloth had pulled something out of Luke--but he wasn't waking up to say what it had been.
Tara	<<Luke! Luke!>> No answer, and Tara opened her eyes. "... Luke?" He was there -- but not answering, and so still she was barely certain he was breathing. She sat on the cot beside him for several moments to get her own breathing under control and come fully back to reality. Eventually, she felt solid enough to try to find help.

Saba	What Saba felt in the Force was not exactly a go-command. It was a blast of fiery anguish so intense that it lifted her scales and made her fear for Master Skywalker. Still, the message was clear. The hunt was over and the kill was at hand—even if the prey had drawn first blood. Saba leaned forward and peered around the corner, looking up a dark, dead-end corridor toward the computer core. To her Barabel eyes, which could see well into the infrared spectrum, the passage was a long rectangular tube of cool blue walls ending in the orange glow of the computer core air lock. A couple dozen green lumps lay scattered along the floor, Sith bodies that had been dead long enough to start cooling. Satisfied that nothing had changed since their initial assault here, Saba pulled her head back and turned to look at the survivors of her own pack. Tahiri had obviously sensed the change in Saba’s disposition and alerted the three Void Jumpers, led by Petra Arkanian. They had all pulled their thermal imaging goggles over their eyes, and they were looking in Saba’s direction, except for their sole remaining demolitions expert. In his suit-mandibles, he held an oblong orb that was about a meter in length. On top was a covered activation pad, with a digital counter that read 0:05:000. Saba bared her fangs in approval. “It is time to deliver our egg to itz nest,” she said. “May the Force be with you.”
Petra	"Good hunting," Petra offered. She still wasn't entirely clear on what the Force was, but people kept wishing her things about it - she figured she might as well return the favor as well as she knew how. At her hip were two guns - the blaster she'd been given, and the standard-issue side-arm she'd taken with her. Between her own experiences, and that of Dink and the others, it had become very clear that ballistic weapons had their advantages here.
Saba	Saba ssss-ed with delight, a purely reptilian noise, and ignited her lightsaber. "We go thiz way," she decided. A few moments later, they ran into their first pack of shadow-ghouls: shadowy arms, long tails, bright red eyes...mean as hell and harder to kill.
Petra	This was not any way to convince Petra not to shoot it, you know. Her arm was up and her finger was on the trigger before she'd even fully thought about it.
Saba	Its limbs quickly regenerated as the shots landed. "It will only die once itz eyez are closed," Saba told her, hacking her way through the ghoul's body with her lightsaber and reaching for its eyes as the ghoul tried to leap from its corpse. Abeloth was playing for keeps with these guard-dogs.
Petra	"Aim for the eyes," Petra muttered to herself. Probably not what Saba intended, but what the hell. She was a much better shot than she was a martial artist... ...and so she spun around, firing straight into the eyes of the nearest one.
Saba	Saba was going to like this girl. There was a ferocity there that was very Barabel. "Good," she praised. "Now the other five."
Petra	"No problem," Petra said, and raised her voice, "Oi! Kintama!" It almost reminded her of the Battle Room, shooting these guys. It had been over half a year since her last military campaign, and she'd be lying if she said part of it didn't miss it. She fired off several more shots, aimed for their faces.
Saba	Saba and Tahiri took care of the rest and they soon settled into a pattern as long minutes passed. Finally Saba paused to take stock and tend to a leg wound suffered during the last attack. They'd traveled only fifteen meters and were down several troopers. A shadow-ghoul had gotten inside Stomper One’s power armor and caused it to self-destruct, which was why Stomper Two was now at the rear of the pack, carrying a badly dented EMP bomb. And no one was quite certain what had become of Braan, the wounded demolition man. A wave of terror had simply rolled through the Force from his direction, and then a thermal detonator had gone off. "The ghoulz are growing slower," Saba announced. "That iz a good sign. It meanz whatever iz happening in the Maw to weaken her iz working here."
Petra	"It had better," Petra said, gritting her teeth. She was dealing with creatures out of her nightmares, here, but she refused to give into the terror she felt gnawing at her ankles. "How many more of these things are there?!"
Saba	"Too many," Saba concluded grimly, reaching for a grenade off of her belt. "Get ready to run. The computer core iz down that hallway and to the left. This one will be right behind." Tahiri snorted. "I'm not planning on dying today, either. Force-enhancements means we'll catch up faster than you can run. This isn't suicide." Yet, anyway.
Petra	Petra bristled, but she put her frustration aside - she was better than that. "Right," she hissed. Waited for an opening. Ran.
Saba	When they arrived down by the airlock leading to the computer core, the ghouls had lost most of their color and much of their strength. They were easy to avoid, or move near and close their eyes. "Can you feel him?" Saba was asking Tahiri as they slowed down by the door. Tahiri was shaking her head. "But the Maw is very far away--" she shook her head. "I don't like how the fight suddenly got easier. Abeloth is planning something." The explosives expert began rigging the door.
Petra	"Isn't she always planning something?" Petra asked, gritting her teeth. "Maybe she just isn't paying attention to us anymore."
Saba	"Then this will catch her eye," Saba said as the EMP bomb--badly dented but still intact--was brought forth. "One second delay?" Tahiri murmured, handing over a detonator. “Big Blinder armed, safeties off,” the trooper reported. “I’ll start the detonation timer when Jedi Veila blows the inner hatch.” “Good.” The trooper flipped the fuse toggle on the first charge, then spun away from the hatch and pressed himself flat against the wall at the end of the corridor. Everyone else did the same. “Fire in the hole!” “Master Sebatyne,” Tahiri asked, “what’s the rest of our—” The word plan vanished into a deafening bang. A slender cone of blowback flame shot five meters down the corridor, but most of the blast’s power was focused in the opposite direction. The entire hatch buckled inward, filling the interior of the air lock with a cloud of durasteel shrapnel.
Petra	Petra dropped her arm away from her eyes. "Let's go," she snapped. Like she was going to wait until the dust settled before moving.
Saba	"Watch the hole--" Tahiri cautioned as if Petra might somehow miss the three meter hole-where-floor-used-to-be. The center of the room was filled with the computer core, and a balcony that protruded about a dozen meters into a vast, spherical cavity filled with the faint pink striations of energy-starved circuits. Scattered around the chamber were a handful of drifting, radiant clouds—the tiniest amount of memory that an energy-starved computer needed to keep active to avoid shutting down. Flying toward Saba from the depths of the chamber was a cloud of white-hot radiance, shaped like a woman’s face, but with a hugely broad mouth and eyes so sunken they looked like wells. As the cloud approached, tendrils of light began to reach out in front of it, stretching toward Saba. Meet Abeloth, Petra. She's pissed.
Petra	Funny thing, that. So was Petra. And she had absolutely no compunction about firing several slugs into Abeloth's head. "Kuso--"
Saba	Abeloth didn't even slow down as she slowly began to take solid form, placing tentacles around Saba's head and preparing to take her body as a new host. Saba ignited her lightsaber and brought it sweeping up, cutting all of the tentacles away at Abeloth’s shoulder. The heat of her blade seemed to cauterize the wounds, and the tentacles flew off in every direction. There was an instant of stunned silence, then Abeloth released an ear-piercing shriek of pain and rage.
Petra	Petra hissed a few of Korea, Japan and Russia's most impressively creative curses and shot to the side before Abeloth could lash out with those tentacles of hers. She fired another few bullets into Abeloth's now-open shoulder. "Move!"
Saba	Saba, at least, took her advice, if perhaps not how Petra had intended it. While Abeloth was reeling from bullets that actually penetrated and hurt, Saba sank her fangs into neck, crushing sinew and bone and not stopping until the head had come off. Don't mess with a Barabel.
Petra	Well, that was... something. Petra wasn't sure what. "Is she dead?" she shouted, unwilling to lower her gun until she was absolutely sure.
Saba	"Thiz one, at least," Saba said, letting the body drop. "Call your friend and let him know."
Petra	Peter took her finger off the trigger, then sank the gun down into its holster. She tapped her communications device - whatever it was called - and spoke into it. "Ender? This is Petra. This one's down..."

Ben	If anything, the steam had grown thicker. Ben was only five meters from the Font of Power, and he could tell its location only by the sound of its gurgling waters. “Ves, we’re not drinking,” Ben said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You saw what happened to Taalon after he fell into the pool. The same thing—or something even worse—will happen to us if we drink from the Font. You know that!”
Vestara	“Maybe we’re meant to change,” Vestara said. “Abeloth is the Destroyer of Keshiri legend, and we’re the Protectors, Ben—you and me. That’s why the Force brought us together in the first place. We’re the only ones who can stop her.”
Ben	Ben shook his head. “Not by drinking from the font.” He stepped closer to Vestara and pointed toward the fountain behind her. “That thing is a dark side nexus—probably the most potent one in the entire galaxy. You don’t use something that powerful. It uses you.”
Vestara	“So instead we let Abeloth just take us?” Vestara countered. “Use our bodies to raze the galaxy?”
Ben	“No, Ves—we fight back,” Ben said. “But we do it without drawing on the font—without touching the dark side at all. That’s the only way we don’t become the thing we’re trying to destroy.” Jacen had taught him that lesson.
Vestara	Vestara studied Ben with a look that was equal parts pity and admiration, then finally said, “You’re a noble fool, Ben.” She turned away and started toward the fountain. “But I’m through discussing this. We can’t beat Abeloth without the font’s power.”
Ben	Ben remained where he was. “And you can’t beat her alone, Ves.” He waited for her to glance back, or at least to hesitate. When she didn’t, he turned away...straight into Abeloth. Her tentacles were on him before he could cry out, entwining his body and pulling him close, slithering over his eyes and probing at his ears, sliding past his lips and into his mouth. Ben bit down hard and felt a gristly tip about the size of his small finger come off. Immediately, his mouth was filled with a thin, foul-tasting oil. He exhaled fiercely, spewing both the tentacle tip and the rancid blood into Abeloth’s bottomless eye sockets. She only pulled him closer. A tentacle curled around the back of his neck, then slithered into his nose and started to ascend. He punched and kicked, slamming fists and elbows into her body, stomping at her legs, driving his knees into her thighs and abdomen. But he was still too close to the font to use the Force, and without the Force his blows were nothing to her. Abeloth took them all without flinching or groaning—with no reaction save a smile. The tentacle wormed its way up Ben’s nose into his sinuses, and his face flared with unbearable pressure and pain. “You will drink, young Skywalker, or you will serve me another way,” Abeloth said, speaking in her multitude of voices. “That choice is the only—”
Vestara	The threat came to a crashing end, and Abeloth’s tentacle tore free as she went flying backward on a bolt of Force lightning as thick as Ben’s leg aimed by an absolutely furious Vestara.
Ben	He dropped to his knees, his agony fading quickly even with blood pouring from his nose. Abeloth dropped to the ground about three meters ahead, still pinned against the cobblestones by the Force lightning. As she writhed, her tentacles were twining around themselves, coalescing back into arms. Her long golden hair grew silky and dark, her eyes became oblong and normal, and her skin darkened into the lavender tones of a Keshiri Sith.
Vestara	Vestara came up beside Ben. Her hands were still extended toward Abeloth, pouring Force lightning into the fallen Keshiri. “Ben?” Vestara asked. “Are you hurt?”
Ben	Instead of replying, Ben continued to kneel on the cobblestones, looking up at Vestara. Her hair and clothes remained relatively dry, and he saw no redness in her face or hands to suggest she had actually put them into the steaming waters and drunk. But as she continued to pour Force lightning into the Keshiri, he could feel the font’s dark energy flowing across the courtyard, swirling over him and through him, filling him with the cold queasy ache of its corrupting power. There was a glow in her face, and Ben was sure that even if she hadn't drunk from the font, she was being directly affected by it. Taking a deep breath, Ben spun on his knees and wrapped one arm around Vestara’s legs. He rose to his feet, throwing her over his shoulders and using his free hand to catch her far arm and hold her in place. “I'm fine.” He started across the courtyard, away from the Font of Power. “But we can't defeat Abeloth this way.” Part of it was simple logic: Vestara had just shot Abeloth full of enough Force energy to out a Canderous-class hovertank, and now that he'd taken her far enough away from the font to affect Vestara's pull on the Force, Abeloth was starting to stand up again.
Abeloth	Abeloth, at least, was trembling in agony. Greasy dark smoke was rising from a shoulder that had been so badly scorched it looked like a burned nerf roast. Her cheeks were hollow, her complexion was so wan it was pale blue, and her sunken eyes were rimmed in red. But she was still standing, coming at them across the courtyard’s mossy cobblestones. Vestara was shaking even worse than the Keshiri, her complexion still shadowed by its dark energy, her eyes dulled by Force overload. When Abeloth went for her lightsaber, it was almost a relief. Maybe her attack had driven out Abeloth after all—perhaps all they had to fight now was a simple Sith Lord. Then the Keshiri spoke, and her hope evaporated. “We are done with patience,” she said in a thousand voices. “Drink together—or die together.”
Ben	Ben opened himself to the Force completely, shielding himself from the Font of Power’s darkness by drawing its energies through the power of all he loved in the galaxy, through his faith in the Jedi purpose and the promise of the future—through his confidence in Ender and his friends and his own abilities getting him to Shakespeare and not dying pointlessly on this stupid planet. The Force came pouring into Ben from all sides, irresistible and pure, a flood of light and purpose. He let himself become the Force, a swirl of power and energy, and he focused all that he was on the approaching Keshiri, hitting her with a Force blast that would have knocked a frigate out of orbit. The blast caught the avatar square in the chest and rocked her shoulders back at least a couple of centimeters. She paused almost noticeably before she took her next step. Ben staggered back, exhausted, and nearly fell before Vestara’s hand clamped around his biceps. She pulled him to his feet and began to retreat, pulling him toward the cloud of steam still enveloping the Font of Power.
Vestara	“So, Ben, what was that supposed to be?” she asked. “The power of the light side?”
Ben	"You didn't do any better,” Ben replied. He pulled his arm free and stopped a few meters outside the steam. “And you were drawing on the font.”
Tony	Tony was possibly not the best back up for a giant, tentacle-y... monster thing. But he, at least, had a strange little tendency to do stupid things when his friends were hurt. Like, say... slam into the tentacle monster at full force, ignoring how the suit's systems were informing him of structural failure. No, Tony. No. Bad.
Ben	If Ben hadn't been so exhausted, he would have cheered. As it was, he flashed Vestara a quick grin. "If you don't like the game, change the rules," he said. "Watch the tentacles!" he called to Tony. "And she can fry you harder than Gene did!" Trust the galaxy's leading expert on being electrocuted, Tony.
Tony	"Got it," Tony drawled, firing at one of those with the unibeam. Because that would work.
Ben	Well, if by "work" you meant "really piss her off," go Tony? Abeloth screamed with a thousand different voices and blasted at Tony with a blue lightning bolt from her hand. Ben could tell that it was using less energy than she had earlier in the fight, but suspected that wouldn't be much comfort to the suit.
Tony	...damn it, Ben. Tony added to that screaming, only staying in the air because the suit had redundancies in place for him passing out mid-flight. SUCH A CHARMED LIFE YOU LIVE, TONY.
Ben	"Kuso, kuso, kuso," Ben muttered to himself as he watched Tony, then a pillar that Abeloth was standing too close to. It couldn't be that easy, could it? He was exhausted, and so his strategy was pretty much "oh, fuck it," as he reached into the Force and swung the pillar at the back of Abeloth's head, half expecting her to stop it. But the pillar kept coming, striking the back of her head with a sickening thud. Abeloth hit the ground. Vestara watched the body appraisingly. "I think all you did was make her mad..."
Tony	Hey, he wasn't being electrocuted anymore! That was good, right? That was totally good for Tony. So, after flying into a wall, he jerked back to consciousness and shot at the tentacle thing again. Because it seemed like a good idea.
Ben	"Tony, watch out!" The call came to a strangled end as he felt himself flying back into the arcade. His shoulders hit a pillar dead-center, folding so far backward that both shoulder blades touched stone. Then a tremendous crack sounded inside his skull, and his head exploded into dark pain. He felt himself sliding down the pillar toward the cobblestones below, and the last thing he saw was Vestara retreating toward the Font of Power, disappearing into the yellow steam with the avatar close behind, and Tony heading toward him.
Tony	"Ben? Ben!" Well now, hopefully Ben wouldn't object to Tony landing in front of him in a crouch before activating the shield in case something decided to hit Ben now. "Gotta say, man. I'm really not going to be the one to tell Ender you got yourself killed."
Ben	Ben's brain was so muddled, and his vision so blurry, that it took him a minute to recognize Tony's voice for what it was. It took him another minute to figure out where he was. "Abeloth's still alive?" he asked with a groan, levering himself up to his feet and ignoring the blood running down the neck and the way he felt like he was going to vomit. "Okay," he said, closing his eyes. "Okay. Here's the new plan. Abeloth doesn't know what to do with you. We'll catch up to her and Vestara--you blast her, and I'll stab her with...something." He didn't have a lightsaber. That hadn't occurred to him. "Make sure it works this time."
Tony	"...riiiight. That'll work," Tony said, not backing off yet as he reached to keep Ben still and make sure he wasn't too badly gone. "Got a plan B or are we already on Z here?"
Ben	"We're into the Chinese alphabet," Ben said, stumbling rather than walking into the yellow steam. Vestara was blasting away with a constant stream of Force lightning, trying to use it to hold her attacker at bay. The Keshiri mess that was Abeloth was grasping at her with two sets of arm-tentacles, using one set to keep them bound together while the other set probed at her mouth and nostrils. Protruding from a small scabbard on the Keshiri’s belt was the handle of a glass dagger. Ben recognized it as one of the favorite weapons of the Lost Tribe of Sith, a thin glass stiletto known as a shikkar, especially since one had been jabbed into his leg in the Temple a few days and a a lifetime ago. "Oooh, a sharp thing," he said. Ben did not even hesitate. He used the Force to pluck the shikkar from its scabbard, then drove the tip up through the center of Abeloth's back, angling the blade so that it passed through her spinal cord, straight into her heart. A spray of dark blood erupted around the shikkar’s handle, and the Keshiri collapsed to her knees, then threw her smashed head back and let loose with an eerie wail. Her tentacles slid free of Vestara and started to swing around toward her back. Ben used the Force to snap off the shikkar’s handle. Vestara hit the Keshiri in the face with a blast of Force lightning. "Now, Tony," Ben added.
Tony	"Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo." Tony took a deep breath before launching himself back up into the air, charging up the unibeam again. He really did not have enough power left for more than one of these blasts, Ben. You better know what you're doing here.
Ben	The Keshiri stopped struggling, and her eyes grew vacant and glassy. The tentacles turned back into arms, and there was noting to suggest that Abeloth was ever getting back up. Ben took a deep, painful breath just in time to see Vestara step out of the yellow fog. Her face was wild, and the font’s dark power was swirling around her legs so thickly that it looked as though she were floating on a black cloud. She raised her hands and pointed them at the corpse. Clearly, she intended to hit it with another blast of Force lightning—to burn it to a crisp and destroy every last trace of the thing that had tried to take them. "She's dead," Ben said tiredly. "No reason for overkill. Let's go back to the ship." He glanced at Tony. "There is a ship, right?"
Tony	"We have a ship," Tony replied, dropping down next to them with little grace as the jets on his boots sputtered out. Ah, reserve energy. He needed to work on that. His helmet retracted, reversing a bruised and bloody, but smiling Tony. Who was going to hug you, Ben. Learn to deal with it. None for Vestara, though. She was creepy. "Serously, man. Don't scare me like that."
Ben	"Ooof," Ben gasped. "Sorry. I'm fine, though." Well...ish.

Ben	The Rude Awakening sat at the far end of the courtyard, hissing and popping as the heat of its fiery descent dissipated into the humid jungle air. Its hull was carbon-scorched and dented, and several deep pits went down through the thick battle armor all the way to the orange circle of an emergency hull patch. The assault vessel had obviously been through a terrible battle—no doubt with Ship, which Abeloth had sent back into space the instant she had debarked with her two prisoners. Ben could only hope that the ancient meditation sphere had suffered as much damage as the Awakening, because otherwise they would be an easy target when they tried to leave the planet. “What’s taking so long?” Vestara asked. She was standing at Ben’s side, one hand tight on his biceps and holding him steady despite his protests that he didn't need to be held up. “Can’t your people see that you need medical attention?”
Ender	Ender wasn't running, but he wasn't exactly walking terribly slow either. "Ben," he called. "Vestara?"
Ben	Ben pulled his arm from her grasp and moved toward Ender. "And Tony, too," he assured him. "You're a sight for sore eyes." And Ben's eyes were a little sore. Most of Ben was a little sore.
Ender	Ender smiled at him - he couldn't not, despite the state of him. He knew Ben, though... and he hadn't seen Ben in a long time-- and he was sliding his arms around Ben to hug him as gingerly as he could before he even realized it.
Ben	Ben buried his head against Ender's shoulder and just breathed for a moment. "You're okay?" He couldn't muster up enough of the Force right now to check for himself.
Ender	"A lot better than you are," Ender murmured back. He didn't let go, content to let Ben hang on as long as he needed to. To a point, at least. "We'll get you out of here soon."
Ben	"Now would be good," Ben replied. "I like now a lot. The ship can still fly, right?"
Ender	"With the collective tinkering ability of your family here, I think we could probably make a rock fly," Ender joked. He finally leaned back a little to get a good look at Ben's face. "She'll fly."
Ben	"Okay," Ben said, then bit his lip. "Dad? I thought I felt something in the Force, but I was so busy--"
Ender	"He'll be okay," Ender said, touching his cheek. "Time to focus on getting out of here," he said, "And taking care of you."
Vestara	"Then what are you waiting for?" Vestara demanded, rubbing her arm across her face in a vain attempt to be less grimy.
Ender	"It's rude leaving in the middle of a conversation," Ender said, glancing her way. "You're uninjured?"
Vestara	"Nothing that a sanisteam and a week-long nap can't cure," Vestara said, gazing with open appraisal at the burns in the hull.
Ender	"I hope, then, that whoever picks you up will be able to accommodate you," Ender replied. He finally let go of Ben completely. "It'll probably be Ship, though."
Ben	Ben blinked for a moment before it clicked for him. "Jaina found out?" he murmured, already stepping between Ender and Vestara. Not that he'd be able to do much in the way of defending anyone, but he'd rather take the hit than have Ender do it.
Ender	"Jaina found out," Ender agreed. His eyes flickered to Ben. "You should head back to the ship," he said lightly. "You need to rest." And not attempt to stand between him and a Sith girl who might be willing to be sensible right now, considering the state of her.
Ben	"I'll go check on Dad," Ben said, giving Ender's hand a little squeeze. "Don't take too long." He walked away, leaving Ender to face a Sith girl who was looking decidedly angry. "You're just abandoning me on this rock after all the help I just gave?"
Ender	"I'm not," Ender said. He slung his backpack forwards so he could reach inside. "But after the stunt you pulled, surely you'll understand why the Solos aren't terribly eager to let you tag along." He pulled out a large bottle of water and tossed it to her.
Vestara	She drank it down like someone who hadn't seen liquid in days, which was true. "You're leaving a dangerous enemy at your back," she warned icily.
Ender	"I don't bear any ill will towards you," Ender said quietly. "And you don't want my animosity in return."
Vestara	"So you're marooning me, but you feel really badly about it," Vestara said, rolling her eyes. "How Jedi of you."
Ender	"No, the Solos are marooning you, and I think they're well in their right to do so," Ender said. Mildly, this time, and with the tiniest hint of pleasant steel. "I, on the other hand, would rather not see you starve." He took a bag out of his backpack. "But I'm happy to take this back with me, if you'd rather."
Vestara	"Sith don't believe in mercy," she informed him. "If our positions were reversed, you'd already have my shikkar in your back."
Ender	"My people call me the Xenocide," Ender said, though technically that wouldn't be true for another hundred years. "I'm well-enough acquainted with the murder of billions for a good cause that I've no issue with providing mercy when the cause is desperate at best." He tossed her the bag, too - it would have enough food to last her a few days. "I have no quarrel with you, Vestara," he said. "But if you were actually in any position to hurt me, you would be dead already."
Vestara	She took the bag, even if she was being decidedly ungracious about it. "Good thing I spent time with Ben, then," she taunted. "Tell him I'll see him soon."
Ender	"You won't," Ender said simply. "Goodbye, Vestara. I hope one day you'll find whatever it is you keep groping around for so desperately."
Vestara	Vestara gave him another glare, then disappeared back into the mists.
Ender	Ender shook his head, and slung his backpack back over his shoulder, and went back to the ship, where he was needed. It was time for this fiasco to come to an end-- time to say goodbye, time to leave.