Episode 48 - Peragus
Stardate: 4 2 0 0 9.7
Earth Standard Date: January 04, 2365.
Location: Outside Mos Espa, Tatooine
Tatooine's twin suns hammered down as they moved through Mos Espa toward the outskirts. Tyson walked alongside the disguised Padmé. Behind them, Anakin chattered excitedly about podracers and freedom while Jar Jar stumbled over his own feet with predictable regularity.
"The ship's not far now," Qui-Gon said. The Naboo cruiser sat on the sand a quarter mile out, its reflective silver coating standing out against the dunes.
Tyson's Force sense prickled. A presence, distant but closing fast, pure killing intent moving across the sand.
Darth Maul.
His stride didn't falter, but his mind jumped ahead. He'd known this was coming. The timeline was playing out almost exactly as he remembered it. Qui-Gon would tell Anakin to drop, the boy would hit the sand, and the Jedi Master would engage the Zabrak in a brief, furious exchange before they escaped on the ship.
But that assumed Tyson did nothing. That assumed he let events play out as scripted. That assumed events would follow the script.
He glanced sideways at Anakin. The boy was nine years old, sandy-haired and sunburned, talking Padmé's ear off about the modifications he'd made to his podracer's fuel injection system. His Force presence blazed. Enormous, the kind you felt before you saw it, and somehow Tyson's own connection matched it. The Chosen One. The boy who would bring balance to the Force.
Tyson hated that prophecy.
What was balance? The Jedi order slaughtered or in exile? Palpatine and Vader on one side, Yoda and Obi-Wan on the other.
Some balance.
He understood what Anakin Skywalker's fall would cost. The Jedi Temple, burning. Younglings cut down by the man they'd trusted as a hero. Billions dead on Alderaan. Two decades of Imperial tyranny. All of it traceable back to this child and the choices he would make.
What if Maul's blade found Anakin instead of empty air?
Tyson could do it. Passively even. Just not intervene. Let the attack play out slightly differently from the script. Maul would be fast, and Anakin was a nine-year-old with no combat training. One moment of hesitation from Qui-Gon, one extra step from the boy, and the future Darth Vader would die in the Tatooine sand before he ever held a lightsaber.
One child's life against billions. Against the entire Jedi Order. Against Alderaan. The numbers weren't even close.
But Palpatine would still be out there. Still might end up the Supreme Chancellor, still a Sith Lord with decades of planning behind him. Anakin was the weapon, not the hand that wielded it. Remove the weapon and Sidious would still be the problem. The fall of the Republic wasn't contingent on one slave boy from Tatooine. It was contingent on the Sith Lord sitting in the highest office in the galaxy.
So killing Anakin, letting Anakin die, wouldn't stop the Empire. It would just mean the Empire rose without a Vader to eventually turn on it. Without a Luke Skywalker to redeem his father and destroy the Emperor. Without the chain of events that actually ended Palpatine's reign.
The situation got murkier the longer he looked at it.
And underneath all the strategic reasoning, there was a simpler truth that Tyson couldn't quite argue away. Anakin Skywalker was nine years old. He hadn't done anything yet. He was a kid who built droids and raced pods and loved his mother. Condemning him for crimes he hadn't committed, might never commit if things went differently this time, that wasn't justice. That was him being an accomplice to the murder of a child.
Still, if that was the cost of preventing the galaxy's suffering, Tyson would pay it. Sentiment was a luxury when weighed against genocide.
Maybe that was the Augment in him talking.
But two factors stayed his hand.
The first was buried in the description of Chosen Second.
'You have the potential to change the entire universe with your actions, not only due to your vast potential capabilities but also your inherent ability to alter things on a grand scale.'
Not just power. Not just raw Force potential matching Anakin's own. The ability to alter things. On a grand scale. That language wasn't accidental. Perks never were; they gave you exactly what they described. And if it said he could change the universe, then maybe the change it pointed toward wasn't letting a child die in the sand, or become a galactic tyrant.
The second was Q.
Before Tyson had been dropped into this version of the Prequels, the entity had said it. Almost as a throwaway, wedged between a smirk and a snap of his fingers.
"You could prevent Anakin's fall."
Not "you could kill Anakin." Not "you could stop Vader from existing." Prevent the fall. Q said a lot of things. Most of them were jokes, provocations, tests dressed up as conversation. He'd said it, offhandedly, before Tyson had taken the Chosen Second Perk. But did chronological order mean anything to a being who treated timelines like shuffling cards?
Tyson let out a slow breath through his nose.
It's settled. Anakin lives.
The decision opened a door to the harder problem. Anakin wasn't the disease. He was the symptom.
Palpatine.
His thoughts had already jumped ahead to Coruscant. That was where the ship was headed after this. Straight into the political heart of the Republic, straight into the Senate chambers where a certain Senator from Naboo was about to orchestrate his own elevation to Supreme Chancellor. The Trade Federation's blockade, the invasion, Valorum's incompetence, all of it was choreography. Palpatine had been arranging the pieces, and the crisis on Naboo was his opening move into the endgame.
He'd be on Coruscant. And he would sense Tyson.
The moment he set foot on that planet, Sidious would feel him like a bonfire. Probably already had.
He might approach. As Palpatine, not Sidious. The kindly Senator, the concerned politician, reaching out to the powerful newcomer with that grandfatherly warmth that had fooled everyone from Anakin to the entire Galactic Senate. He'd want to know what Tyson was. Where he'd come from. Whether he could be used or was a threat to be eliminated.
Tyson needed a plan for that, and he didn't have one yet.
The easy mistake would be underestimating the man. Palpatine hadn't seemed like much in the films. An old man in robes, cackling about unlimited power, getting thrown down a reactor shaft by a half-dead cyborg. Easy to dismiss. Yeah, right. He'd killed three members of the Jedi Council in seconds, including Kit Fisto. Masters, all of them. Combat veterans who'd survived the Clone Wars. Palpatine had cut through them like they were younglings. Mace Windu had pressed him, sure, but even that victory was debatable. And then there was Yoda. Eight hundred years of experience, arguably the greatest Force user the Jedi Order had ever produced, and Sidious had fought him to a standstill. Driven him off.
Tyson had struggled against Revan. Genuinely struggled, pushed to his limits by a single opponent who combined martial skill with raw Force power in ways that had nearly overwhelmed him. Revan was dead now, but there was no reason to believe Palpatine would be any easier. Different style, different strengths, but the same tier of threat.
Palpatine's power base was political not counting his own combat prowess. Everything Sidious had built rested on a foundation of reputation. The Sith Lord would thread himself so deeply into the Republic's institutions that by the time anyone realized what he was, he already controlled the military, the courts, and the Senate itself. Ripping him out by force would be akin to killing the host to kill the cancer. But right now, today, Palpatine was still just a Senator. An influential one, sure. Well-connected, well-liked, positioned perfectly to catch the falling knife of Valorum's chancellorship. But he hadn't caught it yet. He wasn't Supreme Chancellor. The emergency powers, the war, the systematic dismantling of democratic oversight, all of that was still years away.
Which meant his position was still vulnerable.
Exposing him was the best route. But he'd need a plan, need to do it carefully. Otherwise, trying to prove he was a Sith would just paint a target on Tyson's back without accomplishing anything.
This brought him to the second problem. The dark presence was closer now, minutes away at most. Darth Maul, trained from childhood by Sidious himself, wielding a double-bladed lightsaber with a fighting style built around aggression.
Could Tyson beat him?
It would be a first.
He'd never defeated a Sith Lord clean. Not once. Every victory had come with an asterisk, some edge or advantage that tipped the scales.
An alert pulsed across his HUD. Vicky's voice cut through his thoughts. "Tyson, your heart rate is elevated, and you're sweating. That never happens outside of combat."
He kept his pace steady, eyes forward. To anyone watching, he was just another member of the group trudging through the heat. "We're about to be ambushed by a Sith," he said, subvocalizing into the suit's comm.
"Confirmed. Single lifesign approaching from the southeast at high velocity. Arrival in approximately ninety seconds." Another beat. "I'm preparing backup."
Ninety seconds.
Tyson lengthened his stride until he was walking beside Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master glanced at him, reading whatever Tyson's expression was giving away.
"I sense something in the Force," Tyson said. He kept his voice low enough that Anakin and Padmé wouldn't catch it over the wind. "Something bad is coming."
Qui-Gon's hand drifted to his belt, fingers brushing the cylindrical hilt clipped there. The movement was casual, practiced, the kind of thing you'd miss if you weren't looking for it. "I can feel it too," he said. "A darkness. Closing fast."
He turned his head toward the group. "Anakin. Stay close to Padmé."
The boy looked up, confusion replacing his mid-sentence enthusiasm about thruster ratios. "What's wrong?"
They had just cleared the last cluster of moisture vaporators when it happened.
A blur of black fabric and crimson light erupted from behind a rocky outcropping. The figure moved with inhuman speed, twin-bladed lightsaber bore down on Anakin. Qui-Gon's own weapon ignited, the green blade intercepting the attack meant for the boy.
"Get to the ship!" the Jedi Master shouted.
But the black-cloaked attacker wasn't finished. As Qui-Gon pressed his attack, his yellow eyes shifted, locking onto Padmé. The double-bladed saber spun in a vicious horizontal sweep aimed directly at her unprotected back.
Tyson drew both his weapons simultaneously, thanks to Master with your Hands, the green Lightsaber igniting in his right hand while the blue energy blade of his Laser Blade hummed to life in his left. He threw himself between Padmé and the Sith, both blades crossing in an X-pattern to catch the crimson saber.
The impact sent shockwaves up his arms. The raw power behind the Sith's strike was staggering despite his own strength.
"Run!" Tyson grunted, pushing back against the locked blades. "Get Padmé to the ship!"
The Sith, Maul, disengaged, his double-bladed weapon spinning in complex patterns. Tyson found himself giving ground, his dual-weapon style barely keeping pace with the Zabrak's assault.
Maul's fighting style was unlike anything Tyson had encountered. The Sith was pure aggression; acrobatic leaps, spinning kicks, and that damned double-bladed saber. Tyson's Laser Blade caught one end while his Lightsaber parried the other, but he could feel himself being overwhelmed. A spinning heel kick caught him in the ribs, sending him stumbling backward. Maul pressed his advantage, the crimson blades weaving, and Tyson barely managed to deflect. Sparks flew as energy met energy, and only a desperate backward roll saved him from the decapitating strike that followed.
As Maul raised his weapon again, Qui-Gon's lightsaber intercepted the attack. The Jedi Master's Ataru form complemented Tyson's more untrained dual-weapon style.
"Together," Qui-Gon said simply, falling into position beside him.
The dynamic shifted immediately. Where Tyson had been overwhelmed by Maul's aggression, the addition of Qui-Gon created a rhythm they could work with. Maul found himself caught between two very different fighting styles. Qui-Gon's technique forced him to respect traditional forms and distances, while Tyson's unconventional dual-wielding created openings the Sith couldn't predict. The green lightsaber would engage Maul's weapon while the blue lasersword struck from his blind spot, or vice versa. But even with two opponents, Maul was holding his own. Sweat beaded on Tyson's forehead. They weren't winning. They were buying time.
"The others?" Qui-Gon asked between strikes.
"Moving toward the ship," Tyson replied, catching a glimpse of Padmé and the others in his peripheral vision, their status displayed in his HUD. They were perhaps fifty meters from the cruiser now, but Jar Jar was slowing their progress.
Maul seemed to sense the same thing. With a roar of frustration, he unleashed a flurry of attacks that drove both the Jedi and Tyson back several steps. His weapon caught one blade. Qui-Gon stepped into the gap.
From the direction of the ship, Tyson heard the whine of engines beginning to cycle up as they prepared for immediate departure. But he could also see Obi-Wan's conflicted expression as the young Padawan stood at the ship's ramp, clearly torn between following orders and helping his master. Tyson watched the decision form on Obi-Wan's face. The young Jedi's hand moved to his lightsaber hilt, his face set with determination as he stepped away from the safety of the cruiser and began moving toward the battle.
Qui-Gon called to his apprentice. "Stay with the ship!"
Obi-Wan's hand froze on his lightsaber hilt. His jaw clenched. He forced himself back toward the ship's ramp, not looking away from the fight.
Tyson saw the moment of Obi-Wan's restraint. Drawing on the Force, he planted his feet and thrust both hands forward, sending a powerful wave of energy directly at Maul's center mass.
The invisible force caught Maul flat-footed, lifting him off his feet and hurling him backward through the air. Maul twisted like a cat, landing in a crouch some fifteen meters away.
"Qui-Gon, go!" Tyson shouted, not taking his eyes off the recovering Sith. "Get them to safety!"
The Jedi Master hesitated, torn.
"Protect the Queen. Protect the mission!" Tyson snapped.
Maul was already moving, his black robes billowing as he launched himself back, closing the distance with Force-enhanced speed.
Tyson barely got his weapons up in time, but the impact drove him to one knee. Maul's follow-up strike came from above, at Tyson's skull.
Rolling sideways, Tyson felt the heat of the crimson blades sear the air where his head had been. Sand sprayed as he came up in a defensive crouch.
Behind him, he could hear the Naboo cruiser's engines. The whine of repulsors filled the air as the sleek ship lifted off; Qui-Gon jumped to land beside Obi-Wan.
The Naboo cruiser banked hard, sweeping low across the dunes toward him. Tyson felt it through the Force before he saw it, a pull, a whisper of timing that said now.
He bent his knees and launched himself upward. Augment-enhanced muscles combined with the Force sent him soaring, and his boots hit the lowered boarding ramp with a heavy clang. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the hydraulic strut as the platform began to rise beneath him.
Below, Maul stood in the sand, his double-bladed saber still ignited, watching the ship climb.
The ramp sealed shut. Tyson turned and found Qui-Gon standing in the corridor with his lightsaber deactivated but still in hand.
"This round isn't over," Tyson said. "This is our chance to stop the Sith."
Qui-Gon's expression was measured. "You were the one who mentioned the mission. We can't turn back now."
"We can't," Tyson agreed. "But I can. I'll catch up. Eventually."
Before Qui-Gon could respond, Tyson raised his hand and tore open a portal, revealing open desert, golden sand, and a black-robed figure standing perhaps thirty meters away.
He stepped through.
Maul watched it disappear. Then those yellow eyes locked onto Tyson.
"Round two," he said, and charged.
The Sith's saber staff spun in a vicious overhead arc that Tyson barely managed to catch with crossed blades. The Zabrak's superior leverage drove him backward, his boots sliding in the loose sand as he fought to maintain his footing.
A spinning kick caught Tyson in the shoulder, spinning him around. Maul's follow-up strike would have taken his head if not for a desperate backward lean that left him off-balance and vulnerable.
The double-bladed saber came around in a horizontal sweep aimed at his midsection. Tyson threw himself backward, landing hard on his back as the crimson energy passed inches from his chest. He rolled frantically as Maul's weapon stabbed downward, the point searing into the sand where he'd been lying.
Coming up in a crouch, Tyson found himself giving ground steadily. Without Qui-Gon's support, Maul's relentless aggression was overwhelming his defenses. The Sith fought like a force of nature; his acrobatic leaps and spinning attacks seemed impossible to counter.
Maul's next attack nearly took his arm off at the shoulder. The Sith's yellow eyes burned with malevolent joy as he sensed victory approaching. Each strike designed to create openings in Tyson's increasingly desperate defense. A vicious overhead strike drove Tyson to one knee again. Maul's follow-up kick caught him in the ribs, lifting him off the ground and sending him tumbling across the sand. His weapons went flying, blue and green blades extinguishing as they hit the ground several meters away.
Maul advanced slowly, savoring the moment. His double-bladed saber hummed with deadly promise as he raised it for the killing blow.
The angle was wrong to roll under it. His Lightsaber was four meters away in the sand. The Laser Blade further still. His Grey Goo Suit could absorb the strike, or his shield could deflect it. He hadn't intended to reveal either, but he might not have any choice.
That's when a portal materialized behind Tyson. Through it stepped two figures that made Maul's advance falter.
Vicky emerged first, her pink hair tied up in twin buns. She ignited a purple lightsaber.
Behind her came D'Lavina, the green-skinned Orion beauty. Her own lightsaber blazed to life, the green blade complementing her natural coloring as she fell into a combat stance beside Vicky.
"Miss us?" Vicky asked as she sized up their opponent.
D'Lavina said nothing, studying Maul's fighting stance.
Maul faced three opponents now. He was reassessing.
Tyson rollled away, calling his fallen weapons using the Force, the blades reigniting. "Glad you could make it to the party."
The three of them spread out, forming a triangle around the Sith. Maul's head swiveled between them, his double-bladed saber held in a defensive position.
Vicky struck first, her purple blade lancing out in a precise thrust that Maul deflected. D'Lavina followed immediately, her green saber weaving in from the opposite angle while Tyson pressed forward with both weapons.
Now it was Maul who found himself overwhelmed. The coordinated assault from three directions forced him to give ground, his acrobatic style less effective when he couldn't focus on a single opponent. Vicky's purple blade caught one end of his saber staff while D'Lavina's green weapon engaged the other, leaving Tyson free to press attacks with both lightsaber and lasersword.
The Sith went to grim from aggressive. He moved between opponents, watching for an opening that wasn't there.
With a snarl of frustration, Maul disengaged, leaping backward in a series of acrobatic flips that carried him toward the rocky outcropping where he'd first appeared. His black robes billowed as he landed in a crouch, his double-bladed saber held defensively.
For a moment, the four warriors faced each other across the desert sand, the only sound the hum of their weapons and the distant whine of the departing cruiser's engines.
Then Maul's lips curved in a cold smile. "This is not over," he said.
Tyson laughed. "Holy shit, he talks." He straightened from his fighting stance. "All that time, and you didn't say anything. I wasn't sure if you were a mysterious Sith or a mute."
The tattooed lines of Maul's face pulled tight with fury.
"Seriously," Tyson continued, gesturing with his lightsaber. "We fought for what, five minutes? Not a word. I was starting to think your master forgot to install the voice module."
Vicky snorted from his left. D'Lavina remained silent on his right, her green blade steady, her stance unchanged.
Maul's grip tightened on his saber staff. His body coiled, weight shifting to the balls of his feet.
"I am the instrument of your death. Words are unnecessary."
"See, that's better. Now I know you're the dramatic type. We can work with that."
The Sith turned and vanished into the rocks, then kicked up sand as he sped away on a speeder, making a tactical retreat.
Tyson deactivated his weapons as he turned to face his rescuers.
"Purple?" he asked, nodding toward Vicky's still-ignited blade.
Vicky grinned, giving the weapon an experimental twirl before extinguishing it. "I stole the crystal from Revan's saber. It's pretty."
"Right." Tyson wiped sweat from his forehead, the adrenaline of combat beginning to fade. "Thanks for the assist."
"You didn't use the shield in the armor, the cortosis in your suit..."
Tyson glanced toward the distant speck that was the Naboo cruiser, now barely visible against the azure sky. "I wanted to test myself. And I didn't want to reveal any of my fallbacks. I Have A Bad Feeling About This. It won't be the last time we see Darth Maul."
Chosen Second was strong. Stronger than he'd fully appreciated until this moment.
He reached out through the Force as the cruiser's silhouette winked away into hyperspace. The fading wash of Qui-Gon's signature, Padmé's quieter one, the small bright sun of Anakin still burning at the center of the group; all of them moving past the system's gravity well and gone. Anakin's signature was still there at the edge of his senses even as the ship cleared the gravity well.
But the cruiser didn't matter right now. He'd been aboard briefly before tearing open the portal back to the surface. He could open a portal to the ship's interior whenever he chose. At least he'd had the presence of mind to think of that during the fight. Somewhere early in Maul's ambush, he'd recognized that he needed an exit strategy and a way to keep up with the upcoming events.
Throughout the exchange, D'Lavina had remained silent. The green-skinned Orion stood slightly apart from them, her emerald lightsaber extinguished but still held loosely in her hand. She studied the horizon where Maul had disappeared, though Tyson could sense her attention wasn't truly on the retreating Sith. It was on him.
There was a lot they weren't saying. D'Lavina had been accompanying Revan during their travels, and the last real interaction between her and Tyson had been months earlier. She'd tried to seduce him into joining her harem. It wasn't entirely her own fault. One of his Drawbacks had influenced her actions. He hadn't had many interactions with her since, a few polite nods when their paths crossed, but they kept a careful distance from each other.
Now, standing in the Tatooine desert after she'd helped save him, that distance felt both necessary and somehow wrong.
Tyson turned to face her fully and bowed slightly. The gesture was formal but sincere. "Thank you for the help, D'Lavina. I know you didn't have to come."
She looked at him directly, for the first time in months. Clearer than he remembered. The desperate edge was gone. Whatever she'd found in the Counseling Bay, it showed.
"Vicky was going to help. I chose to follow," she said simply.
"Still," Tyson said, maintaining the respectful distance between them. "You could have stayed behind. After everything that happened..."
Something shifted in D'Lavina's expression. A flicker of regret. "What happened before was not entirely me," she said carefully. "The Counseling Bay has helped me understand that. But the choice to help today was mine alone."
"The important thing is we're all here now," Vicky said, though her tone suggested she understood this was about more than just the immediate situation.
D'Lavina nodded slowly. "The Sith was skilled. Dangerous. Fighting him alone would have been... Inadvisable."
"Inadvisable," Tyson repeated with a slight smile. "That's one way to put it. He was kicking my ass."
"You held your own longer than most would have," D'Lavina said, and there was genuine respect in her voice. "Your dual-weapon style is unconventional, but effective. The Sith was not prepared for it."
"Not prepared enough to keep him from nearly taking my head off," Tyson replied, rolling his shoulder where Maul's kick had connected. "I'm still learning. Still figuring out how to make it work against opponents who actually know what they're doing. I spent too much time in the holodeck, not enough time on the island practicing."
"Experience is the best teacher," D'Lavina said. "Though preferably gained without dying in the process."
The comment drew a small laugh from Vicky. "Spoken like someone who's spent time in the Counseling Bay. Very philosophical."
D'Lavina's lips curved up. "It has given me time to think about many things. Perspective, choices, consequences." She looked at Tyson again, her expression serious but easier than it had been. "I wanted to help because it was the right thing to do. Not because of what was, or what might have been under different circumstances."
"I appreciate that."
"So," Vicky said, "what's the plan now? The Jedi are safely away, the Sith is gone for the moment, and we're standing in the middle of nowhere on a desert planet."
Tyson looked toward the horizon where the Naboo cruiser had disappeared, then back at his companions. "The Jedi are off to Coruscant, but I have a Drawback that puts me on a powerful Sith's radar. My bet is that he's on Coruscant right now. Plus, there's the Wise Teacher Companion that I thought I'd have earned by now."
"Companion?" D'Lavina asked. "Like us?"
"Yes," Tyson explained, wiping sand from his lightsaber hilt before clipping it to his belt. "The Wise Teacher is supposed to be someone who can teach me, guide me. I thought it might have been Qui-Gon, but he's gone, didn't teach me anything. And there was no connection. No moment where the Companion bond would have formed." Tyson shook his head. "Which means whoever it is, they're somewhere else."
"Any ideas where?" Vicky asked.
Tyson paused, remembering the vision that had struck him upon first arriving in this galaxy. "Actually, yes. I had a Force Vision of the Ebon Hawk. It was adrift in space, no power, just floating in the void."
"The Ebon Hawk?" D'Lavina's eyes widened slightly. "Our ship. I mean… Your ship."
"If it's out there, drifting..." Tyson let the implication hang in the air.
Vicky caught on immediately. "Someone might still be aboard."
"The Jedi and Padmé won't face any direct threats while they're on the capital planet," he continued. "That gives me time to investigate this other lead."
D'Lavina's expression lifted slightly, hope briefly crossing her face. "Do you need help?"
Tyson considered the offer for a moment, then shook his head. "I appreciate it, but I left the Ebon Hawk in Carth's possession. I don't expect any Sith Lords to be on board. It should be fine if I investigate it on my own."
The hope dropped away. For just an instant, her shoulders sagged. She recovered quickly, her posture straightening as she masked the disappointment behind a carefully neutral expression. "I know you have little reason to trust me, but I'm here for you if you need me."
Six months in four words. Tyson looked at her and found the sincerity there. "I appreciate it."
D'Lavina nodded once. Something crossed her face that might have been hurt. She put it away fast.
Somewhere out beyond the dunes, a heat-thermal cracked the air with a low pop. Closer, sand slid off the upwind faces of the outcroppings. Neither of them said anything for long enough that Tyson became aware of his own breathing.
"Right," Vicky said, breaking the tension. "Portal time."
She raised her hand, and reality shimmered as a silver oval tore open in the air behind her. Through it, they could see the Personal Reality.
D'Lavina stepped toward the portal, pausing only to look back at Tyson one more time. "Be careful," she said simply.
Then she was through. Vicky moved to follow, but instead of stepping through herself, she closed the portal with a gesture, leaving just the two of them standing in the desert.
Tyson looked at her. "Subtle."
Vicky turned to face him, her pink hair catching the sunlight as she crossed her arms. "It's been long enough, Tyson. She's reformed. She doesn't have the same powers she did when you were at odds with each other. The Mary Sue Drawback has been gone for months."
"I know."
"You should consider giving her a chance," Vicky pressed, her usual playful manner replaced by something more serious. "She's been working on herself. Really working. The Counseling Bay isn't just a place to hide, you know. She's been dealing with what happened, understanding it."
Tyson's jaw tightened slightly. "She tried to force me into being in her harem. She's still alive. That was me giving her a chance."
"You agreed to be part of her harem. You gave that speech that you already were," Vicky shot back, her voice gaining an edge. "In the end, to fulfill the Drawback's requirements, nearly killing her in the process. T'Pol agrees that being with D'Lavina or at least playing the part of being in her harem is a good idea."
Tyson barked out a laugh, the sound harsh in the desert air. "Now I know you're not being serious."
"Only halfway," Vicky admitted with a slight grin. "T'Pol did say that."
"T'Pol wants me to have a harem because Data convinced her it was only logical for me to procreate with multiple women to spread my abilities around," Tyson said, shaking his head in disbelief. Vicky had pulled the difficult feeling out into the air, then immediately defused it with a joke.
"Still not hearing where any of this is wrong."
Tyson stared at her, searching her face for any sign that she was joking. Vicky met his gaze steadily, her expression a mixture of amusement and genuine conviction that made it impossible to tell where the humor ended and the serious suggestion began.
"You're actually serious about this," he said finally.
"About which part? The logical procreation argument, or giving D'Lavina another chance? Because honestly, both have merit."
"Vicky—"
"She's not the same person she was when the Drawback was active," Vicky interrupted. "You know that. She's been respectful, kept her distance, and worked on herself. She didn't have to come through that portal today. She didn't have to help you fight that Sith, but she did. You're going to have to work with her eventually or cut her loose. This careful distance thing you've got going? It's not sustainable long-term."
"The first time I encountered her was before I met you. I was teleported onto her ship, and she used her pheromones to influence my thoughts, my emotions. And it was a close thing."
"Right. But it's also not something that can't be worked through, given time and effort."
Intellectually, he had no argument. The Drawback was gone. D'Lavina had spent the months becoming someone different. None of that was in dispute. Strategically, refusing to integrate her was just stupid. The Mary Sue Drawback could come back. He needed his Companions to be functional. The math came down on the side of yes.
Yet, something in his gut sat there and refused to move. Refused to get past the memory of her hand on his face on her ship the first time, the syrupy chemical pull of her pheromones working on him. The intellect said she's not the same person. The body said I don't care. He didn't like being someone whose feelings outvoted his reason. He liked it even less because he couldn't make the feelings change just by deciding.
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that maybe, just maybe, you could try treating her like she belongs instead of a potential threat," Vicky said. "Start small. Include her in missions where her skills would be useful."
"What skills? Since the Mary Sue Drawback ended, her Character Sheet entry has been blank. The whole section where her abilities should be listed just... isn't there. Like the system doesn't know what to do with her now that the Drawback isn't defining her anymore. No Perks or Items listed, nothing. She's got a lightsaber from the island and whatever combat training she got. That's it."
Vicky dropped her arms to her sides. "Stop being stubborn and stupid for five seconds and think about what you just told me. A Companion with no system entry. No defined abilities. No stats. Nothing anchoring her." She stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward his chest. "That's not a minor glitch. That's a massive red flag."
The desert wind picked up, throwing fine grit against their legs. Tyson said nothing for a moment, the implications settling over him like the sand accumulating on his boots.
"You think something's wrong with her."
"I think something's wrong with her situation, and you've been too busy avoiding her to care." Vicky corrected. Her voice settled as she continued, "Let her prove that she's changed instead of assuming she hasn't."
"And if she hasn't?"
Vicky's expression grew serious. "Then we deal with it. But Tyson, she's in your Companion list. If you keep treating her like this, what's to keep Q from messing with you and adding the Drawback again, since you haven't been honest about it since shortly after it was removed."
"Holy Jesus!" Tyson exclaimed. "Do Not give him ideas like that. Why would you say something like that out loud?"
"He can read your thoughts, anyway," Vicky reminded him, though her tone had lost its playful edge.
She was right. If Q wanted to know what was going on in his head, privacy wasn't really an option.
"Fine," Tyson said, his voice carrying a note of resignation. "I'll find some way to include her going forward. But no promises on the harem thing."
The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, like he was making a commitment he wasn't entirely ready for. He'd include her. He'd find missions where her skills mattered. He'd try. The intellectual part of him noted that this was the correct choice. The alternative, potentially having the Mary Sue Drawback reinstated because he hadn't properly integrated D'Lavina as a Companion, was far worse. Vicky was right, he'd worked too hard to overcome that particular nightmare to risk having it return out of stubbornness. The emotional part of him sat exactly where it had been ten minutes ago, unmoved.
Vicky's expression brightened slightly, though she seemed to recognize the reluctance in his agreement. She raised her hand again, and a portal tore open behind her.
"Give it some more thought," she said, stepping toward the portal. "Don't ruin it now, or you'll be back where you started."
Then she was through, the portal snapped closed, leaving Tyson alone with the twin suns and his thoughts.
He stood there for a moment, heat radiating up from the sand beneath his feet, the conversation still in him. The idea of actively including D'Lavina in missions, of treating her like a trusted Companion, felt like stepping onto unstable ground. But Vicky's warning echoed in his mind. The Mary Sue Drawback had been one of the worst experiences of his journey so far, forcing him into a situation where he needed to use most of his Character Points to purchase Perks that might help him overcome her. The thought of going through that again, of having Q decide he hadn't learned the intended lesson...
Tyson shook his head. He had a ship to find; he'd had a vision of the Ebon Hawk for a reason. He also had a potential Companion to locate. The Wise Mentor hadn't been Qui-Gon. Despite Tyson being the Chosen Second and an Anomaly, Qui-Gon didn't seem equally as interested in him. He wasn't meant to be his teacher, it seemed. And apparently, on top of all of that, he was going to have to keep being honest with himself about D'Lavina. Telling himself he'd give her a chance was not the same thing as actually feeling that he was giving her one.
The flash came without warning.
One moment, Tyson was alone with the desert and his thoughts, and the next, the air split with a white flare. The light coalesced into a feminine form, and Lady Q materialized with amusement on her face.
Oh no. The timing wasn't coincidental. This was bad.
"That was disappointing," she said.
Tyson's lightsaber was in his hand on instinct. "Lady Q."
"Oh, put that away. I was watching your little encounter with the Zabrak. Riveting stuff, truly. The part where you were losing was particularly entertaining."
"Glad I could provide some amusement."
"You didn't, though. That's the problem. You were in genuine danger. Real, actual peril. The kind that builds character, teaches lessons, and forces growth. And then what happened?"
Tyson said nothing.
"Your Companions happened," Lady Q said, stopping in front of him. "The portal opened, the cavalry arrived, and poor little Tyson was saved from having to actually overcome anything on his own. Again."
"That's not entirely—"
"It is entirely." She held up a finger, silencing him. "This isn't the first time, either. Your other Companions rush in whenever things get difficult. You've built yourself a very comfortable safety net, haven't you?"
She wasn't wrong.
"The whole point of this experience is growth through adversity," Lady Q continued, her tone shifting away from playful. "Not growth through having your friends bail you out every time a Sith Lord looks at you funny."
She raised her hand, and golden text blazed into existence in his HUD.
[+200 CP] Limited Party (Drawback)Sorry, but for some reason, it seems that there's a limit to how many companions you can have traveling with you. You are limited to no more than two companions active at any time. However, to offset this, your companions gain an additional +400 CP each. You must return to a town or designated safe area that isn't your Personal Reality to swap active party members. Companions who aren't active are reduced to the power level of local non-combatants.
Only two Companions active at any given time. Everyone else reduced to the strength of ordinary people.
He let out a long breath through his nose. Then, despite everything, he laughed.
Lady Q's perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. "Something funny?"
"It's KOTOR," Tyson said, shaking his head. "You just turned my life into the actual game. Two party members, swap them out at the base. That's literally how the Knights of the Old Republic game worked."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Lady Q said, examining her nails with exaggerated disinterest.
"Right." Then something occurred to him. "Hold on. Q told me this was supposed to be a vacation, no adversity, no lesson to learn. Plus, Q already gave me A Simple Re'Q'uest. That Drawback puts me on a Q's radar for interference. Now you're here, interfering. That's two Q messing with me. I should get double the points for that Drawback then."
Lady Q turned to look at him, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and delight.
"Oh, that's adorable. You think you can rules-lawyer a Q."
"I think the Drawback says what it says."
"Tell me something, Tyson." She drifted closer, close enough that he thought she might be coming on to him. But he knew better.
"What do you call two Q?"
Tyson opened his mouth. Closed it. The answer was obvious, and he hated that it was obvious.
"Q," he said.
Lady Q's smile could have cut glass. "Exactly. The Drawback never specified just one."
She snapped her fingers, and Tyson stood alone again. Two Companions. Two Q. And two hundred points that felt like they'd cost him far more than they were worth.
Character Points: 2100