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战斗力 鹅
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引用楼主星星狐于2012-09-22 19:40发表的 弱小的一方利用数量优势团队合作战胜具备超越性实力的对手的剧情 :
数量优势基于毫无意义。
比较有代表性的就是：
龙珠里，面对新出现的敌人，要么悟空悟饭一个人就能搞定，要么全部人一起上都只有被一招秒的份。
JoJo里，按说利用的复数替身使者能力互补的特性，多对一的局面下能够产生极大的战斗优势，但基本上，多对一的战斗中输掉的都是数量多的一方，主角团队在遇到敌人的时候也往往是队友全被放倒的情况下，才会由最后一人开始发威翻盘。
鲁鲁修中经常打着打着一台新萝卜飞了出来秒了全场；
星球大战EP3里，云杜大师带了两个绝地师傅去找帕尔帕庭的嚓，结果两个跟班被他一开场就放倒
EP3里，温杜是带着仨人去的。
另外按卢卡斯的某基友依据电影剧本创作，经过卢卡斯几乎逐句审核修改后，比电影上映更早的EP3电影小说（《西斯的复仇》电影上映是2005年5月19日，《西斯的复仇》小说出版是2005年4月2日）里的说法是。
帕尔帕廷秒人成功有部分靠是偷袭的结果：
“…………
[以下内容是第一个帝国日下午呈交给银河议会的一份录音文件的文字转录稿。经过语音特征波纹分析，所有说话者的身份均已被证实。]
帕尔帕廷：啊，温杜大师。见到你真让我又惊又喜。
梅斯•温杜：没什么好吃惊的，议长。而且这对我们双方来说，都绝非幸事。
帕尔帕廷：什么意思？菲斯托大师好。科拉大师，你好。我相信你们一切都好吧。蒂恩大师——我看到你的角已经重新长出来了，我很高兴。请问四位绝地大师深夜造访我的办公室有何贵干？
梅斯•温杜：我们知道你是谁。知道你是什么东西。我们是来逮捕你的。
帕尔帕廷：对不起，你说什么？我是什么东西？没记错的话，我是你们宣誓效忠的共和国的最高议长。我希望我是误解了你所谓的什么逮捕，温杜大师。那可是叛国行为。
梅斯•温杜：你被捕了。
帕尔帕廷：是吗？温杜大师，你一定是在开玩笑。以什么罪名呢？
梅斯•温杜：你是西斯尊主！
帕尔帕廷：是吗？即便如此，那也不算是什么罪行。我信奉何种哲学纯属个人自由。事实上，上一次读宪法的时候，我注意到，我们的法律是严厉打击这种迫害行为的。那么我再问你一次：你们指控我犯了什么罪？你们打算如何在议会面前将这次叛乱合法化？还是说，你们也打算逮捕整个议会？
梅斯•温杜：我们不是来和你狡辩的。
帕尔帕廷：不，你们是不经审判就要监禁我。你们甚至不屑于伪造合法性。你们的计划终于暴露了：绝地想要接管共和国。
梅斯•温杜：跟我们走。快。
帕尔帕廷：我不会束手就擒。如果你们想谋害我，现在就可以动手。
梅斯•温杜：不要试图反抗。
[此处的声音经过频率谐振分析，认定为数只光剑点亮的声音。]
帕尔帕廷：反抗？我怎么可能反抗？这是谋杀，你们这些绝地叛徒！我怎么可能对你们构成威胁？蒂恩大师，你有心灵感应能力。你说我现在在想什么？
[混乱的打斗声]
基特•菲斯托：萨西——
阿真•科拉：[声音片段，可能是“不会疼”（？）]
[混乱的打斗声]
帕尔帕廷：救命！救命！保安——快来人！救救我！
谋杀！叛乱！
[录音终止]
一股紫色的能量从梅斯•温杜的拳中泉涌而出。“不要试图反抗。”
他手中剑刃的低吟，得到了基特•菲斯托、阿真•科拉和萨西•蒂恩手中的绿焰的共鸣。
科拉和蒂恩逼近帕尔帕廷，挡着通向门口的路。绿色的光芒，从两人的阴影中渗出，滴淌，交织缠绕着爬上办公室四壁，悄悄翻过椅子，贴着地板向四面八方铺开。
“反抗？我怎么可能反抗？”帕尔帕廷此时仍然坐在办公桌前，无助地挥舞着空拳，把一个疲惫、恐惧的老人形象扮演得惟妙惟肖。“这是谋杀，你们这些绝地叛徒！我怎么可能对你们构成威胁？”
他绝望地转向萨西•蒂恩。“蒂恩大师，你有心灵感应能力。你说我现在在想什么？”
蒂恩皱起眉，昂起头。他的剑向下垂着。一抹黑暗带着红光一闪，从办公桌后袭来。
萨西的头滚落在地板上。
一缕烟从颈部缭绕而起，两只断角也冒着烟，从下巴以下被斩断。
基特•菲斯托惊呼：“萨西！”
无头的尸体挺立了一会，随后膝盖一弯，扭倒在地板上，气管里流出一声轻轻的叹息。
“不会…”阿真•科拉挥剑砍去。
他鲜绿色的剑刃消失了，剑柄从他松开的手指间脱出。他额头正中出现了一个干净的小洞，冒着烟，透着脑后的灯光。
“…疼…”
他前仆倒地，身子一动不动。
帕尔帕廷站在门口，但是没有开门。从他右手中伸出一道火焰色的剑刃。
门在他身后锁上了。
“救命！救命！”帕尔帕廷尖叫着，好像是一个绝望求生的人。“保安——快来人！救救我！谋杀！叛乱！”
接着他笑了。
他伸出一只手指放在唇上，然后，出人意料地，挤了个眼色。
随后的那一秒中，梅斯•温杜和基特•菲斯托束手无策，只能举起光剑作防御姿势，帕尔帕廷轻快地跨过尸体，回到桌旁，倒持光剑，以一种外科手术般精确的手法，灵巧地把剑刃向下刺进桌面里。
“这就够了。”
他让剑刃自由地割开桌子的前半部分，随后转过身，举起武器，似乎开始端详，好像在端详一位被误认为早已过世的挚友的面庞。能量在他周身集结，直到原力开始闪烁出黑暗的光芒。
“你可知道，”他温柔地说，可能是在对绝地大师说话，也可能是在对自己说话，甚至可能是在对鲜红的剑刃说话，他现在举剑的姿势好像是一种戏谑的致敬。“我为这一刻等了多久…”
阿纳金的飞车在雨中飞驰，躲闪着从高楼劈入云霄的叉状闪电，横穿交通路线，尖啸着从摩天大楼之间飞过，尾波击碎了沿路的窗户。
他不明白为什么人们都不给他让道。他不明白银河城熙熙攘攘的万亿居民怎么能继续办自己那些鸡毛蒜皮小事，好像整个宇宙根本没有改变一样。与他相比，他们怎么能认为自己很重要呢？
他们怎能认为自己的生命还有意义呢？
现在这些庸碌盲目的生命毫无意义。所有人都是如此。因为前方，议会办公大楼宽阔的立面上，一扇窗户里迸发出道道闪电，映入狂风暴雨之中，回应着窗外的电闪雷鸣。但这闪电是光剑相互撞击时火花的颜色。
绿色的扇面，紫色的帷幕——
鲜红色的火焰。
他来得太晚了。
绿色的火光变暗，闪灭；现在闪电只有紫与红两种颜色了。
…………
——《西斯的复仇》电影小说 ”
既然说群殴么，在《绝地的命运》里，卢克60+岁已经成长为星战历史上古往今来的最强绝地时。
此时卢克的实力见此文：
http://bbs.saraba1st.com/2b/read-htm-tid-844257.html
面对该系列大BOSS，星战作品里最强的黑暗面原力使用者/星战作品里最强的女性原力使用者——银河系文明的毁灭者，十万年来导致多次银河系主导文明衰亡没落或者彻底毁灭的“混沌使者”阿贝洛思，就是靠群殴赢的。
虽然主要还是阿贝洛思开始时调戏卢克时玩过头了，分身被毁了多具，导致自己的战力被严重削弱。最后阿贝洛思自己成为银河系各势力的众矢之的，被绝地、西斯、银盟军方、帝国残余军方、曼达洛人群殴，摧毁了其存在于现实世界里的全部分身。
《绝地的命运》里阿贝洛思在“来世阴湖”里的分身被消灭之战
卢克·天行者（60+岁时的他，是星战世界里古往今来武力最强的绝地，没有之一） + 达斯·克雷特（历史武力最强的西斯之一，当时他还没出现《传承》漫画里身体濒临崩溃情况，满状态）VS 阿贝洛思
这也是目前星战文艺作品里，正面描述最为高端的一场角色对战
此战地点是在“来世阴湖”之中，“来世阴湖”这地点到底是什么官方没给清楚解释，不过按目前描述看——可以理解为星战世界里，生者现实世界与死者亡魂世界的交汇地点吧
“
…………
Luke rose out of his body with a jolt, then hung floating above it, staring at the underside of the bunk above. A week passed, or maybe it was a second-he had no idea. Time had no existence outside the body. A heartbeat lasted a week, a lifetime flashed by in an instant. But Luke Skywalker remained, a manifestation of Force essence that embodied mind and form, more real than the material husk he had left strapped in the bunk below.
He exhaled, or imagined himself exhaling, and his connection to his body grew more tenuous. There is no life, there is only the Force. It was the code of the Mind Walkers, an assertion that the corporeal was illusion, that a living being was nothing but a luminous swirl in the Force. And perhaps they were right.
Luke exhaled again, and a purple radiance appeared above, shining down through the crude matter of the upper bunk as though it were a hologram. He reached, and the light came flooding in, filling him with a calm as deep as space. He became the Force, and the Force became him, and he knew only the pure, eternal joy of existence.
Luke called to mind a lake he had once visited, a narrow mountain lake nestled between a granite dome and a boulder-strewn meadow with hummocks of knee-high moss, and he started to walk. Whether the journey took a week or an instant was impossible to say. But 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 a fight, not Abeloth. She was too busy trying to create her divine family, to transform Ben and Vestara into a twisted version of the Son and the Daughter who had once kept the Balance in the Force. The last thing Abeloth wanted now was to face Luke in a final combat that she just might lose.
But the choice wasn't hers.
Luke stepped into the water and began to wade forward. He did not make any sloshing sounds or disturb the dark surface as he moved. Soon, the hummocks and 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, sometimes showing disappointment when his features did not turn out to be those of a loved one, often lighting in recognition and curiosity as they realized they were looking on the Grand Master of the new Jedi Order.
Many of the faces Luke saw belonged to old friends-Ganner Rhysode, Numa Rar, Tresina Lobi, and a dozen others-but he continued by them without pause. During his four decades as a Jedi, Luke had lost a hundred good friends and more acquaintances than he could count, and he was certain they would understand if he did not have time to stop and greet them all.
Finally, he came to the face he had been looking for-a slender female face framed by auburn hair, with high cheekbones, full lips, and large green eyes. It 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, wishing that he were not in such desperate need of the help he was about to request.
As soon as her face broke the surface, she raised her brow and said, "We can't keep meeting like this, Skywalker."
Luke smiled despite himself. "Last time, I promise," he said. "Mara, I need your help."
"There's not much I can do for you anymore," Mara said, looking more disappointed than sorry. "You know that."
"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's eyes went wide, but she said nothing.
Instead it was a scornful voice to Luke's left that spoke. "How did you let that happen?"
Luke turned to find Jacen Solo's gaunt face peering out of the dark waters. "We were trying to stop the cataclysm you caused."
Jacen's lip curled into a sneer. "You Jedi never tire of blaming the Dark Lord for your own failings, do you?"
"My failings have nothing to do with this," Luke said. "You're the one who set Abeloth free."
"Me?" Jacen scoffed. "I was dead."
"Thuruht says you did it when you changed the future," Luke explained. "They say that's how Abeloth is always freed."
Jacen began to look less certain of himself. "Who's Thuruht?"
"The oldest Killik hive," Luke explained. "The one that helped build Centerpoint Station and imprisoned Abeloth the last time she escaped."
"Then you should be talking to Thuruht, not Mara and me," Jacen replied, growing haughty again. "There's nothing we can do. We're dead."
Luke turned back to Mara. "I just need to know her weak points, or how to find her in the Mists of Forgetfulness," he said. "Anything that will help me stop her before she...before she does something terrible to Ben."
Mara's eyes grew glassy with sorrow. "Luke...Jacen is telling the truth this time," she said. "We can't help you."
I can. It was a voice that Luke felt rather than heard, a darkness that pulled at him from behind. And I will.
Luke turned to find the form of a shadow-wrapped human approaching from the shore by which Luke had entered the water, the same shore by which all mortals came to the Lake of Apparitions. The silhouette was tall and broad-shouldered, with a head hooded in darkness and glowing eyes that never seemed to match colors, that went from brown to orange and yellow to blue, that sometimes grew dark as ebony and seemed to be not there at all. As the silhouette drew nearer, it began to resemble a man Luke had seen many years before, a man who had appeared only in his dreams-and always shortly before he awoke feeling uneasy and frightened.
Luke glanced back at Mara, then said, "It's him."
"Who?"
"The man I kept seeing in my dreams, before Jacen turned Sith."
Mara looked confused. "But the man in your dreams was Jacen."
"I thought so," Luke replied. "Who else could it have been?"
He turned back to the figure and saw that the cloaking shadows had coalesced into a suit of dark, spiked armor. The newcomer's right arm seemed a mere ghost, as though he had only a holographic projection where there should have been a limb. And his left eye had become an empty white circle that looked more like a window into another universe than an actual organ. His face was weathered and chiseled, though-with a web of tattoos radiating outward from an angry gaze and deeply etched scowl-he could not be considered handsome. He stopped three paces away and stood staring, as though trying to decide whether to attack Luke or speak to him.
"You," Luke said. It was the man with the tattooed face-the one who had been behind Luke's team in the Manarai Heights Spaceport, and who had later disarmed Yaqeel Saav'etu near Fellowship Plaza. "Who are you?"
"No one whose help you want," Jacen said. "That's the dark man I saw on the Throne of Balance."
"And the only one who can help you," the stranger said. "With the Ones gone, there is only one way to stop Abeloth...Jedi and Sith together."
Luke studied the stranger without answering for a moment, trying to imagine him without the scowl. The man was hardly ugly, but he certainly did not share the Lost Tribe's usual obsession with careful grooming and good looks. And the tattoos were unusual, too. Vestara had claimed that while the Lost Tribe enjoyed painting their bodies with decorative vor'shandi markings, they would never defile themselves with permanent ink. Of course, she might have been lying-it certainly wouldn't have been the only time-but Luke couldn't see how that would have benefited her.
At last, Luke said, "I recognize your face. You've been watching the fight on Coruscant."
"And that surprises you?" the stranger asked. "What happens on Coruscant shapes the fate of the entire galaxy. Of course we are watching. We are always watching."
"Which is how you know so much about Abeloth," Luke surmised. "You have a spy."
"What makes you think there is only one?" the stranger said. "We Sith are legion...as you now know."
Luke shook his head. "If you were Lost Tribe, your appearance would be more refined. And you wouldn't have tattoos."
"Too much talk, Master Skywalker," the stranger said, stepping past Luke. "I came to fight. Let us find her."
Luke turned to follow-and there she was, a gray silhouette just emerging from the Mists of Forgetfulness, her long saffron hair cascading almost down to the water, her tiny pinpoint eyes shining out of sockets as deep as wells.
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 through the stranger into Luke. He felt himself fly backward, consumed by pain, his entire being a column of blue, crackling Force flame.
* * *
…………
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 most devastating counterattack yet. The counterattack 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's chest was a searing ache around a fist-sized scorch hole, and his Force essence was bleeding out from a dozen smaller wounds, leaving a crescent of twinkling light spread across the dark water. He sprang anyway.
Abeloth only seemed to sag, and it appeared that she might tumble into the water in the eternity it was taking to reach her. But that would have been too easy. Luke and the Sith stranger had been hurling Force attacks at her for a lifetime-or perhaps it was a mere eyeblink-and this was the first time she had shown any reaction.
Then Luke was there at Abeloth's side, stomp-kicking her legs, knife-handing her throat, grabbing for her head. It was like cotton striking gauze-no popping ligaments or crunching cartilage, just Force essence pushing into Force essence. But the damage was done. Luke's foot went through Abeloth's knee; her leg buckled. His hand sank into her larynx, and she drew back wheezing.
He pivoted around behind her, swinging one arm around her shoulder and grabbing for her chin, slipping the other arm up under hers and pressing his wrist into her neck. But grappling was different beyond shadows. There were no pressure points or joint locks or choke holds, only his presence merging with hers, binding him to her in a writhing knot of energy.
Tentacles began to lash at his face, probing for his nose and ears and mouth. A pair of gray tips shot into view, blurring and growing large. Luke closed both eyes and turned away, but not quickly enough. The right eye socket exploded in pain, and everything went dark on that side of his head.
The tattooed stranger stepped in from the left, then slid to the front and drove his stiffened fingers deep into the pit of Abeloth's stomach. A black spray erupted from the wound, and she writhed in pain as the stranger probed for something to grab.
Abeloth loosed a Force blast, trying to drive the stranger off. He held tight. So did Luke, and all three went tumbling across the lake in a snarled mass of limbs and tentacles.
Then Luke felt an icy twinge between his shoulder blades. The twinge became a sting, and he began to feel something cold flowing down the center of his back. His first thought was Abeloth, that she had sunk a tentacle into his spine-until the lashing of her tentacles slowed and she began to shudder.
Luke did not understand until an eternity later, when the stranger rolled up on his feet and jerked them all to a halt. The Sith seemed to be growing stronger as Abeloth grew weaker, and there were wisps of dark fume swirling off his shoulders and head. It did not take a Jedi Grand Master to understand that Luke was being betrayed by a Force-draining technique.
Still holding Abeloth tight, Luke shifted his hips, rolling them both onto their sides, and kicked a foot through the stranger's knee. The joint buckled, and the Sith dropped onto the surface of the dark water, still on the opposite side of Abeloth from Luke.
"I'll release her!" Luke warned.
"Abeloth?" The stranger shook his head. "Never."
Despite the Sith's words, the cold stinging inside began to subside, and Luke realized the stranger was not pulling as hard. Abeloth continued to struggle, slipping a pair of tentacles around Luke's throat and trying to tear herself free. But she was growing weak faster than Luke.
The draining seemed to continue for days; then the stranger threw back his head and screamed in anguish, and it suddenly seemed that only a breath had passed. Shiny black Force energy began to pour from the Sith's wounds into the lake, spreading outward around them in an oily slick so hot the water began to steam and hiss. Still, the stranger continued to drain Abeloth, and Luke realized that he was not being betrayed-the Sith was suffering as much damage from the attack as was Luke.
Abeloth whipped her chin free of Luke's hand, ripping the energy knot where they had joined and sending a sparkling line of both of their Force essences splattering across the surface of the lake. She began to roll her head around, gnashing and spitting, trying to sink her fangs into Luke's arm or the stranger's-anything she could reach.
Luke slipped his arm down around her throat and pulled hard, merging his form into hers, doing his best to keep her under control.
"Keep going," Luke urged the stranger. "Pull harder!"
…………
Abeloth lay tangled in Luke's arms, a writhing mass of Force energy that had suddenly gone limp a second or a day ago, only to explode an hour or a nanosecond later into a flailing tempest that had sent them all rolling and bouncing across the Lake of Apparition's dark waters. The stranger was tumbling with them, his hand still buried in Abeloth's chest, now wailing in agony as gleaming black Force energy steamed from his wounds.
They bounced so close to the shore, Luke grew worried that Abeloth was trying to carry them away from the lake into some new place beyond shadows. And then what? His back hit the water again, and he spun them all around so that his feet were toward the shore. He planted his feet against a moss hummock and kicked off-and sent them all somersaulting back toward the center of the lake. Abeloth stopped struggling and seemed to shrink in his arms, and Luke dared to think that maybe, just maybe she had finally lost hope, that they had exhausted her to the point that she was no longer capable of fighting.
Then she was gone, leaving the stranger and Luke with nothing between them but twenty centimeters of space and the stump of the Sith's hand, now pointed at Luke's chest and still drawing Force energy, draining it not from Abeloth now, but directly from Luke.
They stayed like that for an eternity, a void of cold nothingness growing inside Luke as the stranger continued to hang in the air above, draining him. It seemed to Luke that the Sith's betrayal was premature, that they at least ought to make certain Abeloth was truly dead before they turned to fighting each other...but that was not the way Sith did things.
Luke started to bring his hand up, intending to hit the stranger with a Force blast. But before he could loose it, the Sith's feet dropped to the water's surface, and he raised his stump and pointed toward the far end of the lake.
"There!"
Luke craned his neck and saw Abeloth's silhouette backing into the Mists of Forgetfulness-with the stranger's wrist still protruding from her chest.
"Stop her!" Luke yelled. "If she disappears into that fog..."
Luke left the sentence unfinished as a fountain of oily black Force energy erupted from the protruding wrist. Abeloth's mouth gaped open, and her piercing shriek broke over the lake, reverberating across the water like a clap of thunder. Luke glanced over and saw the stranger standing beside him, pointing in her direction, using the Force to draw his missing hand back toward its stump.
Abeloth did not come dancing in to counterattack, did not even try to stand off defensively and weaken them with a blast of Force lightning. She did not have time for such tactics. Luke doubted she would have fled the battle in the first place if she were not already dying, and with her Force essence gushing out of her like a geyser, she had to attack now.
And she did.
In the next thought Abeloth was simply there in front of the stranger, driving a ball of tentacles deep into him. Luke sprang forward to help-and felt a blistering iciness slide deep into his own chest. 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.
Luke attacked anyway, driving an elbow strike into the side of her head. As before, there was no crunching, no physical sense of impact, only Force energy plowing through Force energy, sending waves of pain and damage rolling through them both. Luke sensed his elbow come free as it pushed out the other side of Abeloth's head. Then she simply fell away, her still-balled tentacles tearing free of both Luke and the stranger...each clutching a handful of dripping, pulsing Force essence.
The stranger collapsed with a gaping hole in his chest. Luke felt his own form grow limp and weak, and he sensed his mouth falling open to scream, then his whole body was falling, weak and aching for breath.
Jaina had heard death screams many times before, on battlefields from Anthus to Zelaba, and they had one thing in common: death screams always contained as much surprise as pain, as much anger and disbelief as sorrow. It was as though men meeting a violent end could never quite believe what was happening, that they had finally met a fighter who was better and luckier than they were. Or maybe it was death itself they were cursing, angry at how it preferred to cheat great warriors of their lives rather than take them in a fair fight. Jaina couldn't be sure of the feelings behind the scream, but she knew one thing for certain-a death scream was always raw and loud.
And that was the kind of scream she had just heard from the Rude Awakening's medbay, where Luke had strapped in his body before he went beyond shadows.
…………
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Lake of Apparitions was neither warm nor cold, still nor roiling. It simply was, beyond time and sensation, beyond fear or desire or duty. It embodied surrender and attainment, death and immortality, and Luke had never felt more ready to slip below its dark surface and join his beloved Mara, to wrap himself in her liquid embrace and let the Depths of Eternity wash away the anguish of his wounds, the ache of his lonely despair.
But something would not let him sink.
He lay on the water for a year or a minute, hurt and exhausted, watching Abeloth's pale form vanish. Her eyes were empty and dark, her tentacles curled into loose balls. Her golden hair was fanned about her head in a floating halo, and she did not seem to be sinking so much as merely shrinking. Luke continued to watch as she dwindled to the size of a thigh, a foot, a finger, then a mere sliver that seemed to hang below him, wavering and flickering, before it finally slipped from sight.
And still Luke did not sink. He was too weak to rise, and he could feel nothing of himself except the aching void Abeloth had torn in his chest. It occurred to him that he might well be dying, and it was not a thought that brought him any fear. Even if his life had not been as long as Yoda's, it had been a good one filled with close friends and much-loved family. He had been of some small service, at least, to his fellow sentient beings. And in the new Jedi Order, he had rekindled a light that had once gone out in the galaxy. He had few regrets for anything he had done, and if the time had come to let another Jedi carry the torch, he was ready.
"Not yet, Skywalker."
The voice was warm and familiar, and it came from beside Luke. He turned to find Mara's face breaking the surface of the water. Then he saw a hand gripping the back of his biceps and realized that she was floating beneath him, preventing him from sinking.
"Mara, it's okay," Luke said. "I'm ready. I want to be with you."
"Too bad." He felt his upper body rising as she tried to push him upward. "I don't want to be with you-not here, not yet."
"What?" Luke asked, feeling more confused than resentful. "Mara, I'm wounded???...???badly. Abeloth took something out of me."
"She wounded him, too." Mara's other hand rose out of the water and pointed past Luke's head, toward the tattooed Sith who had helped Luke kill Abeloth. The stranger was on his feet, limping toward the far shore with both hands clutched to his chest. "If he can do it, so can you."
Luke forced himself to sit upright. The effort made his head spin and his whole being ache, but he refused to collapse back into the water. He had no idea of the Sith's true identity, but it did not seem wise to let him return to the physical galaxy alone.
"That's ridiculous. Their injuries may be different." This voice came from Luke's other side, sinister and cajoling???...???and also familiar. "Besides, Sith are stronger. They have the dark side."
"Who is he?" Luke asked, turning to find Jacen looking up from the water on his other side. "You know, don't you?"
"I told you," Jacen replied. "He's the one I saw sitting on the Throne of Balance."
"The dark man of your vision?" Luke asked. This was the best opportunity he would ever have to learn for certain why Jacen had turned to the dark side, and he was determined to take advantage of it. "The one you sacrificed yourself to stop?"
"I saw only one," Jacen replied. "And you're letting him win."
Luke shook his head. "He can't win, Jacen. Whatever damage you caused to the Force, you accomplished that much. The Sith will never rule the galaxy???...???not now."
The tattooed man stopped and whirled, and Luke found himself preparing to dodge a fork of Force lightning. But the stranger was in no better shape to fight than Luke. He had a gaping wound in his chest, just like Luke, and Luke could see that his entire form was shuddering. Instead of attacking, the Sith just stood staring at them, one eye shining yellow and the other an empty socket, his right arm a useless ghost of a limb.
Then, after an eternity that might have been a mere second, he said, "You must not be so certain of yourself, Master Skywalker. You may think you have stopped the Sith, but you know nothing of us???...???nothing at all."
"I know that Jacen changed the future," Luke retorted. "And you know it, too-or you wouldn't have been here to help me fight Abeloth."
The stranger dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "There is that," he said. "But can you be sure the change will last? Perhaps Caedus did not change the future. Perhaps he only delayed it."
Luke felt his energy and his determination come rushing back. "I guess that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"
A slow grin crept across the stranger's mouth. "Indeed it does." He turned and began to limp away. "And we shall see, Master Skywalker. I promise you that."
Luke returned to his feet and stood watching, until the stranger finally stepped onto the shore and vanished. The man was barely gone before Jacen spoke again, this time from the water in front of Luke.
…………
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楼主: 星星狐
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发表于 2012-9-22 21:21
