Imperial times- Coruscant

Riker South paced impatiently in the other storage room, anxiously awaiting whoever would be the victor in the battle he�d forced them into. He�d falsified his reports, making Tarik seem less dangerous than they�d expected, but no one would expect him to be as capable in battle as he really was.

According to the reports he�d sent in, Tarik was a dumb creature with big claws and a bigger ego. Vader was probably getting his arm ripped open right about now, he thought with malicious glee. He almost wished he was there to watch.

He looked down at the two stunned captives and the one bound and gagged old man, maybe he did have time to go watch. But if tarik smelled him....

The dumb lizard would be too busy with Vader to notice one more scent in the room. Riker smiled, stepping over the unconscious mina toward the door. It was time to watch his plans come to fruition.

--------

Tarik snarled, crouched close to the ground, tail thrashing like a whip. He spat/ hissed at Vader, who brought his blade back to a defensive position from where it had been a few seconds ago.

His leg was starting to burn where those claws had ripped through his armor and the flesh beneath like air, leaving a sting like acid in their wake.

Tarik�s staff had been discarded after vader had slashed it in two during their first round, when Vader had still been on the attacking end of the battle. Now all he could do was fend off Tarik�s vicious and swift attacks.

Tarik hissed again, this time it was a precursor to an attack, with Tarik lunging at his ankles again. He rolled to the side as Vader slashed down with his lightsaber as he side- stepped the lethal claws. Tarik caught him in the leg with his tail as he rolled, bringing an angry cracking of armored shin-plating.

He was sprawled on the floor in an almost dazed position when Vader spun to keep track of him. He�d found out the hard way what happened if he didn�t, the claws marks in his leg were a burning reminder of his not keeping him within sight.

Tarik�s sprawled position was little more than negative advertising, trying to make himself look smaller so that Vader would underestimate him again. He thrust downward with his lightsaber, aiming for Tarik�s head, but the blow hit only the floor.

Tarik was already on his feet and a few paces away, launching a kick at Vader�s knee that would have snapped it like a twig had it connected. Luckily, he was still faster than the creature. He had to keep drawing into reservoirs of energy he�d only let himself touch in combat against a jedi knight before, trying to keep up with the lightning-quick reptile that was intent on ripping him open.

Tarik hissed again, arcing his tail to one side, studying Vader�s new burst of energy warily. Vader swung at him again, the crimson blade hissing through the air at Tarik viciously, making him leap backwards, a few inches ahead of the blade each time.

He snarled, suddenly dropping out of strike range and bolting far enough away to catch his breath. Vader kept his distance, needing some time for himself too. His leg was throbbing, despite his best efforts to suppress the pain. He suddenly wondered if Tarik might be venemous, he�d never seen a full documentation of how he was engineered. Maybe they�d found some sort of venemous creature who could block force-healing and bred part of it into Tarik.

He shook off the thought, collecting himself as the snarling creature prepared to come after him again, then froze in mid-snarl. Vader heard it too, the faint sound of a door opening somewhere on the mezzanine above them.

Tarik sat still, ears twisting as he listened, he sniffed cautiously, flicking his tongue as he pinpointed the source of the sound. Vader could have sliced him open in a heartbeat as he sat there, but he didn�t.

He marveled at the instant shift in Tarik�s personality, from agressive beyond compare to curious and unafraid. Suddenly, the agression was back, but with a different target.

"Riker!" Tarik roared, picking up the distinctive scent the burnt fish smell in Riker�s clothes that he�d never bothered to wash out. He was active in an instant, standing from his thoughtful crouch and bolting toward the closest pile of crates near the mezzanine balcony.

He scrambled up the closest one, tripping on his own tail as he fought to climb while still enraged at Riker. He fell off, hitting the ground with a curse. He looked up at the balcony, only to hear the sound of retreating foot falls and a door locking shut. Vader switched off his lightsaber, watching him.

Tarik sat where he�d fallen, tail twitching slowly. It took vader a minute to define the sniffling sound coming from Tarik as crying. His long pointed ears drooped, he sank the rest of the way to the floor, leaning on his elbow for support as he cried.

Vader stared, dumbstruck for a moment at the way Tarik changed moods in mid-sentence.

"I almost did what he wanted," Tarik said softly, sounding almost human for the first time. Vader looked down, suddenly uneased even more. He stood silently as the green creature sniffled.

"He wanted me kill you," Tarik said, confirming Vader�s most unpleasant suspicions.

He sniffled, "He said he�d help save Mina and others if i fought you," he choked on an chirp. "Now he gonna hurt them," Tarik sobbed, even his constantly-twitching tail sinking to the floor motionless.

Vader listened to the sniffles, and the tone of self-disgust Tarik had been using, and realized that he hadn�t been in complete control of himself during the fight. He wasn�t the bloodthirsty killer the empire had created him to be, he was whatever all theese years on the street, surviving on his own had made him.

And he�d just given a big chunk of that away to Riker by attacking Vader.

Vader was suddenly furious, not at Tarik but at the way Riker had manipulated them all into this. He fumed silently, a snarl more vicious than any Tarik could have mustered in his darkest hour forming on his face beneath the helmet.

He suddenly walked over to the door and punched at the controls. They didn�t open, then he realized, Riker had locked them in. His rage finally boiled over, and he loosed it at the door, making a hemispherical dent in the door nearly twice his height and the same across.

Tarik chirped in surprise, pulling himself into a crouch.

Vader suddenly decided he�d had enough of being played with. He reignited his lightsaber, jamming it into the door nearly to the hilt with a cry of pent-up rage. He slashed downward, then slashed another line a short distance away. He hacked the top clear with a swing of the blade as he stepped away. He dropped the lightsaber to his side near his leg, the blade still active.

He forced himself to calm his breathing for a moment, then deactivated the blade and kicked the door with his wounded leg, knocking the panel he�d cut out of the door to the floor. He stood still a moment longer, then turned toward the stunned Tarik slowly.

"Go save your friends," he said, backing away a few paces to let Tarik escape.

Tarik looked up at him, ears flattened in distrust as he slunk closer to the door on all fours like a frightened animal. Vader glared down at him.

"If I ever see you again, I will kill you as I was ordered to," he said menacingly. "Now go, before Riker gives me another reason to kill him," he nodded toward the door, lightsaber still clutched tightly in his hand.

Tarik straightened up a little, creeping past him warily and then bolting down the corridor at top speed. He slowed a short distance from the door, looking back at Vader as he stood sillouetted in the frame of the cut-out in the door. Tarik sniffed curiously, suddenly remembering a half- forgotten dream.
~~~~~~~~

The boy shuffled forward, taking his first steps toward his own destiny. Suddenly, he turned and ran back to his mother, flinging his arms wide around her and starting to cry. They exchanged a few soft-spoken words of hope and encouragement, and the boy left again.

He walked away without looking back, as he had not looked back to his true self since. The image faded as an older human with long graying hair walked alongside the boy, escorting him to his future.

The smell of sand and wind and broken dreams filled the air, bringing back the memory of another vision had not so long ago.

He finally realized what it meant.

~~~~~~~~

Tarik stood bolt-upright in the middle of the hallway, staring in shock at the man called Darth Vader. He was the little boy in the dream, he was why he had to stay here, to make him remember how to help someone. To make him remember who he had been, so that no one else would ever forget who he was.

He chirruped softly, orange-gold eyes studying Vader for a moment longer. That smell was unmistakeable, why hadn�t he smelled it before?

The armor. It didn�t smell like him, it smelled like Darth Vader, the desert boy was buried beneath the armor. Tarik had unintentionally released his scent into the air by slashing open the armor on his leg. Maybe he�d unintentionally released something else by showing him how much he cared about his friends.

He didn�t have too much time to ponder it all, he had to stop Riker and save Mina and the others. Someone else would have to remind Darth Vader that he wasn�t always like that.

Maybe the other boy in the desert he�d seen would help him? They looked alike, blue eyes and brown-blonde hair. Maybe they were related?

Tarik snorted, no time, gotta go now, he told himself, running off to find the others. Maybe Noryyce could figure out what was happening to him, all theese weird dreams and feelings all of a sudden.

Maybe he�d caught some weird disease from that stupid Jedi medallion? He snorted, rounding the corner, following Riker�s scent. That was stupid, but there was no other explanation that he could think of.

He gave up trying to figure it out, skidding to a stop in front of the storage room wher Riker was holding his friends. The door was locked, he banged on the door with a clawed fist in frustration, looking around for some way to get in.

Now would be a nice time to have one of those lightsaber things, he grumbled to himself.

Use your wits, it�s why you have them, a voice whispered in his mind. It almost sounded like Noryyce, but that wasn�t possible.

He snorted, looking around the hallway, then froze, seeing a small air vent near the ceiling. He smiled slowly, It worked before, he thought, studying the vent.

He jumped up, snagging the vent cover and dragging it back to the floor as he fell. He tossed the cover aside, guessing that the opening was just big enough.

He leapt up again, but this time, he caught the inner edge of the duct and pulled himself up, squeezing through the opening.

----on to Part 5 of Chapter 4---

© 2000 Michelle Petrosky

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