A warning: If you're a Buffy the Vampire Slayer person, you'll get this perfectly. I don't know if I meant this as a serious thing or not, but there is some comedy in it,  although it's a darker parody that most. It's the result of a twisted dream of someone doing a fanfic cartoon (of all things) with Luke as a Vampire and Mara as a Slayer, and a long, boring afternoon at work. Enjoy...if you can. Let me know what you think of---
 

(insert dramatic music here)

Jade the Jedi Slayer

**************

     At this time of night, no one in their right mind would have been out. Especially
not in the Undercity of Coruscant. Known only to those who sought vice, pain and villainy,
the Undercity had once been beautiful, filled with ancient architecture. It had been toured
by day for a thousand years, until the Jedi had come and turned it into their home. Now, it
was a shelter for those who either fled from death or sought it head on.
     Mara Jade had been told many times that she was not in her right mind, but that
was not her purpose. She was supposed to be insane. Only one who was as insane as the
Jedi could possibly hunt them the way she did. Only one who had a touch of their blood
flowing through her could have understood them the way she did. Only she could destroy
them.
     Tonight was no different to her than any other night.
     She stalked through the worst backalley she could find. Once, in her apprentice
years, it had worked like a charm, for the Jedi had smelled her blood and seen her beauty
and had fallen for her bait like a Gamorean guard falling into a Rancor pit. But now, it was
harder. She was tougher, the way she walked displayed anything but helplessness. Dressed
from head to toe in a black, sleeveless jumpsuit, armed to the teeth with wooden stakes on
her thighs, a blaster up each sleeve of her long, black, armored arm-cuffs, and her
lightsaber at her side--the only human in the galaxy who would dare carry one--she was
anything but soft, helpless bait anymore.
     She pulled the tan-colored hood off of her head, displaying her shimmering waves
of red-gold hair. Her green eyes turned upward and flickered with an unnatural light. They
had been that way since she'd been bitten. At times, the bite still stung. Especially if he
was close. No others made it tingle like he did. Of course, that was probably because he
was the one who had put it there.
     She snorted. "Cowards," she grunted. "No one wants to come out and play tonight,
huh?"
     Almost smiling to herself, she thought of Xan and Wileia. Xan Solo and his
arrogant and ultimately cowardly come-and-get-me-as-I-run-away attitude, Princess Wileia
with her sharp thinking skills but perpetually naive outlook. They had wanted to come.
They had fought by her side countless times in battles against the Masters, had risked their
lives for hers as much as it was against her will. But this time it was her fight. She had to
finish this. She couldn't continue on if he was still out there, mocking her, taunting her,
distracting her.
     She wished, in a part of her soul she would let no one dare see, that they were here.
     *How touching,* came a voice into her head.
     She whirled around.
     He was behind her, a dark shadow against more dark shadows, but she could see
him move, a black ripple. No merely-human eyes could have seen it, but she did.
     At the base of her neck, the bite tingled.
     From the heavy shadow, she heard him grunt what could only have been a laugh.
"So you want to end this, eh?"
     She just glared at him, her eyes emerald daggers.
     "Tsk tsk, my lovely Mara." He raised his head and the golden hair caught the few
shafts of light that found their way down into this hell they stood in. Blue eyes met hers,
smiling at her in a way that was anything but pleasant. "I'm disappointed that you would
walk away from our little game so soon."
     "I'm not walking away from anything," Mara growled. "We're finishing this,
Skywalker. Either you die tonight...or I do."
     He jumped down from the window ledge he'd been perched upon, landing five feet
from her. She jumped back, her cat-like reflexes coiling about her in self-defense. He
landed and straightened, cocking one hip to the side, crossing his arms, giving her a
bemused but ultimately deadly look that would have killed anyone else with fear. "Who
dies and who lives, my lovely Mara," he said, rolling over her name in a way that made all
the hairs on her neck rise, "is my choice, and mine alone."
     "Whatever." She hadn't even realized that she'd pulled a stake from her thigh
holster and was brandishing it lazily. Must have been pure reflex, she decided.
     He sighed. "I'm so disappointed in you, Jade," he added, his tone a bit more dry. "I
had thought you would be more entertaining prey than the other Slayers."
     Mara bridled. Yes, Palpatine, her Watcher, had told her about others in the past,
one of which he'd even worked with. This monster, according to Palpatine, was the one
who had brought her down. Her name had been Callista. She hadn't really stood much of a
chance.
     Reading her thoughts, his eyes glowed with nostalgic amusement. "Yes, Callista,"
he purred. "What a sweet bite she was." He snorted. "Poor little fluff couldn't have been
more helpless. But it wasn't really her fault that she wasn't you."
     He looked at her. "You don't talk much, do you?"
     Mara pursed her lips. "If you in this for conversation, Skywalker," she said in a low
voice, "you wouldn't have fangs in your mouth."
     He smiled, and they showed, glittering white and as sharp as daggers. She
remembered the first time she'd seen them...seen him, actually. She'd been doing this for a
while already and was having a particularly good night. She'd taken out five of the others
on her own, with hardly more than a scratch. He'd come along like an innocent bystander,
appearing human, hardly Jedi. His big blue eyes and his bright smile had deceived her
effectively, but what had really gotten her was sudden exhaustion. She made the mistake
of turning her back on him.
     The next thing she knew, she felt his arms around her and his teeth in her neck.
What happened later, she would never really know. All she could remember was the
sensation of him all over her, inside of her, spreading through her, tearing her inside out in
a storm of pain and ecstasy mingled together and twisted horribly wrong. Since then, she
had not been the same. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Perhaps she had died a bit that
night, but she was not one of them. Not completely.
     But enough.
     Skywalker took one step toward her, closing some of the distance. She felt his
breath--if Jedi breathed air--against her neck, and it made the bite all but scream.
     As she remembered, he could see it. It infuriated her to no end that he could read
her thoughts so easily, that he seemed to know her perfectly and could always tell exactly
what she was going to do before even she knew.
     "The price you pay, Mara," he hummed. "It's a shame, really, that you want to bring
our little pact to an end. You had such potential."
     "Pact?" she echoed, stiffening.
     He smiled. It sent a chill through her gut and down her legs into her feet. "Why,
yes. You didn't think I spared you that time for nothing, did you?"
     She scowled at him. "I just thought you Jedi liked to play with your prey."
     He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like he agreed with her, and
then said, "But you're no ordinary prey now, are you?"
     His eyes locked into hers, pinning her in place.
     Her mind whirled, and he seemed to reach into her, guiding her, helping her find
what she was searching for.
     "When I bit you, Mara, I should have killed you. But I spared you. And I made you
more like me. I gave you abilities that have made you a more effective slayer than any of
your kind before you. Why would I do that, Mara? What possible reason could I have to do
that?"
     She shook her head. "You've got me."
     "I know that, but that's not the answer to my question," he said, another smile
flittering across his face. He took another step. "Come on, Jade. You're smart. You had to
have thought of this sooner."
     He was right. It didn't make sense. Why give her the power to destroy them?
Unless...
     "Yes," he hissed. "Unless I wanted them all gone."
     Her eyes widened. "Why?"
     He shrugged, looking her up and down as he spoke. "How can I make a race in my
own image if the old image is still hanging around?" His eyes came back to meet hers, and
for the first time in a long, long time, Mara felt fear.
     "So you wanted me to kill them all."
     "Yes." He laughed. "And you've done a splendid job, really. There are very few left.
Only myself and a handful of others. Your timing for this little rebellion is actually almost
perfect. But then again, you always did have a wonderful sense of timing, didn't you?"
     He took a third step. He could have reached out and touched her, and yet Mara
couldn't move. So he wanted her to destroy the others, leaving only him...and her.
     His smile turned lustful. "Yes...you and me."
     "You're crazy." Finally, she freed her feet and put more distance between them, but
even then she cursed herself. *Never show fear,* Palpatine said. *Fear is what feeds them,
not the blood. If you're afraid, they know they'll win.*
     "Am I? Actually, I think your word for me should be more like...genius."
     "Most geniuses are madmen," she muttered. "But I don't know if you qualify."
     "Yes, I guess you're right. I'm beyond genius. I'm beyond human. And after tonight,
you will be, too."
     Mara reached for her lightsaber and found it faster than she ever expected. She
pulled it from her belt, igniting it quickly. Red-violet light filled the alley, making his face
glow.
     "Not me, Skywalker," she growled. "You'll have to kill me first."
     He chuckled, reaching for his side. A green light came from something in his hand,
and Mara swallowed hard. Palpatine had trained her for this moment. Never in history had
a human survived a Jedi drawing his lightsaber. And no human dared to carry the accused
weapon. Since she'd been bitten, however, Palpatine had known it would eventually come
to this. It was her turn to change history.
     Once she destroyed him, the rest of the Jedi would be easy. They would be gone.
And there would be no more need for any slayers.
     She would be free.
     "Let's make a bargain," he said.
     "Go to hell."
     "Exactly. If you win, you'll slay me. And everything you ever wanted will come to
pass." He looked her up and down again, brandishing his weapon. She shifted her feet into
an attack stance.
     "And if you win?" she whispered.
     "If I win, I will show you what it is that you really want."
     Mara considered, for a moment, cutting and running. But just for a moment. Then
she reached out for the Force---the energy field that the Jedi seemed to generate, that gave
them their power. She had never wanted to use it--she despised the idea of some great and
powerful energy field to be used to manipulate and dominate--but she had no choice. She
was using the Jedi's weapon, and with her soul in the balance she had to use their power,
too.
     It came to her, clear and quick, showing her exactly what she should do. She
attacked, cutting him quick across the right side, but he parried and she had to flip over
him just to keep her balance.
     He turned and counterattacked, driving her into a corner. She used everything she
had ever learned from Palpatine, but it wasn't enough. He was stronger than she was, and
faster. He leapt up after one particular nasty strike that made her arm fall to her side, as
she barely kept her blade from flying from her grip, he landed a heavy kick right into her
breastbone.
     She flew back until a pile of refuse broke her fall.
     Overwhelmed by the stench and the sting of sharp objects scratching against her
skin, let alone the dizzying impact of the landing, Mara called on every single ounce of
control she had to curl her muscles up and do a dry flip straight into the air. She landed a
few feet in front of the heap of garbage and pulled her blade up to bear. The white-hot
instrument stung her cheek as she struggled to find just the right stance, and just as her feet
and arms came into the proper position, he charged her.
     She caught his blade with a terrifyingly easy effort, and counterstruck. The blow
was so hard she felt him stagger, and was amazed to find that her arms weren't trembling
from the force or the exhaustion she had to be feeling.
     The Force, however, was with her.
     She could feel it around herself like a shield. It made the bite on her neck scream,
made her entire body tingle as if alive with an electric current.
     She took full advantage.
     She moved forward, not letting him. She hit him again and again, and found that
her first strike had been lucky. Every blow she dealt now, every inch she took, was hard
won and always countered.
     Their eyes met across their clashing blades and locked. The smoldering desire she
saw there terrified her. Every time she struck at him, every time he swung at her, she
became more and more aware of the fact that he was going to win, no matter what she did.
He wanted her. Wanted her like a starving vonskyr wanted meat. Wanted her like a Hutt
craved vice and a sandperson craved violence. He had made her a part of him, and now, by
coming here and starting this fight, she had given him no other choice but to either claim
her entirely or die.
     Once again, she considered if she should have fled.
     *No.*
     *Never run away. Fight to the death.*
     Yes, her death. But it wasn't her death she was fighting to prevent. It was her
damnation. Because she knew under the spell of the Jedi, with the powers of the Force, she
was going to fall down that road of evil. Perhaps in his human life, Skywalker had been
normal, once. Innocent, maybe even naive. Maybe he'd been a pilot, or a politician, or
maybe even something as simple as a farmboy. He had that ruddy look about him, the kind
of man who had worked hard but had a simplicity to him that came only with being so
close to the land.
     Now, he was all dark, living fire. And he wanted her.
     Taking a deep breath, Mara knew she had only one choice.
     Stretching out with the Force, she saw an opening. Going through a series of
thrusts, she finally got him to give her the one shot she needed. With a heavy dose of
momentum, she plunged her blade right through the center of his chest.
     The look of shock on his face was almost comical, but as she shoved the hilt of the
blade, her arm came up against his, and her neck came right up against his shoulder. He
looked down and saw her vulnerability, and his eyes went to hers with a gloating, mocking
triumph.
     "Young fool," he cooed, reaching down and grasping one of the wrists that grasped
the hilt of her blade so tightly, effectively pinning her into that position. "Surely you know
a mere lightsaber is not enough to kill me."
     "I'll bet it still hurts, and don't call me Shirley."
     "A dull joke, Mara." He bent forward, his breath grazing her neck. He was almost
out of control now, his hunger for her blood screaming in her mind, howling in her ears.
"But soon, your dull life will be over, and your new one will begin."
     He opened his mouth, and his fangs dug deep into her skin.
     Mara's entire face convulsed. She struggled to hang on to her sanity for a single
moment as his dark presence overwhelmed her and consumed her, and reached down to
pull one of her wooden spikes from its holster.
     With a single motion, she thrust it into his chest, by his heart.
     He shrieked and let go of her neck, and the open wound screamed with sudden,
agonizing pain. Mara gasped as the terrifying ecstasy melted into a pool of pure torment.
She let go of him, let go of her stake, and stumbled backward, one hand flying to contain
the blood and the other grasping the nearby, yet slippery wall to hold herself upright.
     And watch him dissolve.
     Strangely enough, he just stood there. The lightsaber had deactivated itself as soon
as she had let go of it, and was at his feet, just a harmless hunk of metal. The spike
protruded from his chest, but he was supposed to be turning into dust...
Mara frowned. And then, as his head came up and his blazing, mad eyes met
hers,
she realized what had happened.
     She'd missed his heart.
     By a mere inch.
     He reached for the spike and pulled it from his chest. It dripped with
warm blood---
her blood, which he had drained from her. He threw the spike to one side and
strode
toward her, his expression calming just a bit but that deadly lust still
remaining.
     "Nice try, though," he said. "But I still win."
     He reached her, and Mara sank against the wall, a desperate effort to
get away from
him. Hope deserted her. Courage deserted her. All that was left was the
gaping wound in
her neck and his teeth, coming down on her once more---
     And then she felt the trickle of dust against her cheek as she watched
him suddenly
dissolve from existence.
     Mara blinked. Above her, Xan stood, a stake in his hand--the one she had
discarded, actually. Behind him, Wileia wasn't too far away, a stake of her
own in each
hand.
     "Thank God," Mara gasped, trying to rise. Xan lowered a hand to help her.
     "Always ready to come to the aid of a slayer in distress," he said,
giving her one of
his cock-eyed grins. "Well, now that we've blown this thing, kid, can we go
home?"
     "Knock it off, Xan," Wileia said, putting her stakes away to come to
Mara's side,
"she's wounded."
     "S'nothing," Mara managed, although the open gap in her neck was
beginning to
burn, terribly.
     Xan glanced down at the Jedi's ashes. "So much for using the Force," he
muttered.
Then he looked back at Mara. "You know, for a minute there, I thought you
were actually
afraid."
     "I was," Mara whispered. She was having a terrible time getting her
balance, for
some reason. Wileia was putting a heavy cloth against her neck, trying to
soak up the
blood, but there seemed to be so much of it...too much for her to still be
alive.
     "Fear is the path to the dark side," Xan chastised. "No, wait, that's
not it. Fear leads
to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side. No, wait, it's--"
     "Xan, shut up!" Wileia snapped. "Come on," she said to Mara. "We've got
a speeder
hidden a few streets over."
     "How did you even know I was...." But she felt a terrible twinge in her
chest and
she suddenly was unable to speak.
     She was Turning.
     With utter certainly, she knew it.
     "Well," Xan answered her unfinished question, "we just thought, where
would we
be if we were Mara Jade? I suggested the merry-wheel at Coruscant Center, but
Wileia
suggested we check the darkest, dirtiest alley we could find, and she won the
coin toss."
     Mara tripped. Wileia lost her grip and Mara sprawled forward, barely
catching
herself.
     "Oh God no," Wileia whispered.
     Mara's back arched, her spine pressing hideously against her skin,
coming out in
almost sharp spikes. Her shoulders hunched and she felt like she was going to
retch out her heart. "Damn...you...Skywalker...." she moaned.
     "Oh shit," Xan said, grabbing Wileia and pulling her back with him.
     Mara screamed.
     "Oh shit," Wileia echoed.
     Then she moaned and fell over, landing in a fetal position. Her fingers
curled
inward like talons, and with an otherworldly quality, the open wound on her
neck closed,
the skin sealing white as if it had never been bitten.
     "What are we going to do?" Wileia gasped.
     "Scream and run, I was thinking," Xan replied. "Maybe panic a bit first."
     "No," Mara moaned, lifting up her head. Her lips peeled back and her
teeth
changed shape, curling down into two long sharp fangs. "Do it."
     The two sidekicks stared at her and then at each other in horror.
     "DO IT!" Mara shrieked. "Stake me! NOW!"
     She fell back, her limbs spawling out at her sides, helpless with the
pain of the
Turn.
     "Mara," Wileia sobbed, "you can't..."
     "You have to!" Mara rasped, her voice sounding more inhuman with each
passing
moment. "Kill me before I turn completely to the dark side!"
     "And once you start down the dark side," Xan whispered, "forever will it
dominate
your destiny."
     They looked at each other once more, and pulled their stakes from their
holsters.
Raising them over their heads, they stood on either side of her, and brought
them down,
like two great wooden fangs, into her chest.

**************

     "Mara?"
     Her eyes jerked open, and she realized she was lying on something soft.
She lifted
her head to see that her head had been on Luke's lap, and even a thin trail
of drool had
made its way out of the corner of her mouth and pooled under her cheek. She
wiped it
away, struggling for dignity.
     "Are you okay?" Luke asked, his hand on her shoulder. "You fell asleep,
but you
started to make some terrible sounds."
     Mara didn't answer. She glanced at the holonet that they had been
watching. She
had always found television so boring, but recently they had been getting
some kind of odd
broadcast from a neighboring galaxy, and there was a program they called
"Buffy the
Vampire Slayer." Oddly enough, she had enjoyed the show.
     Now she just shuddered.
     "I'm okay," she finally said, sitting up and shaking her all the way
awake. "I was
just having a nightmare, I guess."
     "I guess." He pulled her close, and she hugged him. "What about?"
     "I don't know. I can't remember." She shuddered. "I know it was nasty,
though."
     Luke murmured into her hair. "Maybe we should shut this thing of and go
to bed. I
can think of a much more pleasant way to pass the evening."
     She smiled. That was her husband...the ever-sex-driven-farmboy-Jedi.
"Sounds
good to me. Anything to shake this off."
     He stood up and took her into his arms, leading her toward the bedroom.
As the
tumbled into their bed, Mara felt a weird tingle on her neck.
     Luke lifted his head, looking down at her, concerned. "What is it?" he
asked.
     Mara ran her hand along her neck. Nothing. "Absolutely nothing," she
said.
     "Good." And he kissed her.