The Birth Of Acceptance

 

 Chapter 18
----------------------------------------------------------

By Sienn  (2002)

Rating (for chapter): NC-17
Protagonists: Luke/Mara
Category: Action/Angst/Drama

Series: Part III of "Soul's Trial" Trilogy

Time Frame: 26 A.Y. (immediately after "Soul's Trial II: Healing")

Spoilers:
See Chapter 1

Disclaimer:
See Chapter 1



New Republic Ship Ralroost, Edge Of The Coruscant System

"Sir, we're out of the kill zone of their long range weapons for now." A
collective sigh went through the bridge of the Bothan Assault Cruiser as the
navigation officer's voice announced this fact.

General Wedge Antilles allowed himself a small smile.

"Are they pursuing, Lieutenant?"

"Not yet, Sir."

"That's something. Keep course onto the moons."

"The calm before the storm." Jedi Knight Corran Horn murmured. Standing next
to Wedge in the heightened command circle of the General, the Corellian's
gaze was firmly hefted on the display of the Coruscant system that hovered
in the air in front of him.

"Will you stop depressing my crew and continue calculating the coordinates I
wanted to have?" Wedge hissed, shooting him an annoyed sideway glance.

"They don't need anyone to depress them, Wedge."

Ignoring his former subordinate, the General turned to the communications
station that was at his private disposal.

"Wes, do you copy?

Although the Ralroost's communication officer would have been perfectly
capable of handling the comm traffic between the Cruiser and the starfighter
squadrons, Wedge preferred to always have an open, coded channel to the
highest ranking officer out in space, just to hear the point of view of
someone who was in the middle of chaos.

Being a pilot himself – even if off-duty at the moment – he knew exactly
that sometimes it was better to look at things from within than from
without.

"At your service, General." A mock-reserved voice answered.

Wedge grimaced, shaking his head while Corran chuckled softly behind him.
"He'll never forgive you that you don't let him shoot back."

"Wes, status report."

"We've got five pilots out in space and one dead."

Corran's fingers that had been flying over a datapad halted and he glanced
over to his fellow Corellian. Wedge's brown eyes were full of sorrow, but
his face remained serene.

In face of their enemy, one single kill was amazing and just another witness
to the fact that Leia had only ordered state-of-the-art squadrons to fly
cover for her delegation.

"Yuuzhan Vong kill?" the General queried, being aware of all the eyes that
were resting on him at the moment. The bridge crew was not able to hear what
Wes said, but by watching their commanding officer's face, they could very
well guess of which nature the report was.

"Indirectly. His starboard wings were burned away, he lost control and
plunged headfirst into a coralskipper. The Vong pilot is extravehicular, as
far as I know."

Anger and resentment were burning all too clearly in Wes Janson's voice and
for a moment, Wedge had to close his eyes. He could very well understand his
friend's emotions, but he had – as all of them – to keep in mind the larger
scope of this whole disaster.

If this escalated into an all-out space battle, the peace treaty was done
for. The war with the Yuuzhan Vong would begin anew and thousands would lose
their lives. As terrible as it felt to think this way, this one death had
been tolerable. Should his plan work, it would be the last one for today.

"Sir, there is an incoming communication. Yuuzhan Vong."

Wedge straightened, glancing over at his Jedi companion. Corran merely
shrugged and returned his attention to the datapad. If he hadn't done so,
Wedge would have him ordered to. The coordinates were crucial.

Looking over to his communications officer, the former Rogue Squadron leader
queried: "You're working on the connection to the coordinator of the orbital
mirrors?"

The woman nodded.

"Good. Patch the Vong through."

Drawing a deep breath, Wedge stepped in front of the tiny villip Leia had
given him for such occasions. Because the Vong ethic forbid it to them to
take anything mechanical into their living ships and the New Republic
military knew no such restrictions, it had been agreed upon that the fleet's
ships would be equipped with the alien creatures.

Living in small boxes of yorik coral, the villips never had to even touch
any transparisteel or plasteel. For them, it was like living on a Vong ship.

The face that greeted Wedge was, as he had come to grow accustomed to,
heavily distorted and sneered more than angry at him.

"Infidel, we demand to know why you attacked the Supreme Overlord's
worldship."

"My name is General Antilles. Whom do I speak to?"

It was a gamble, he knew that. Wedge hadn't had exactly much contact with
Yuuzhan Vong. Pure instinct let him choose the haughtier, arrogant reproach.
He had the feeling that deference and explanations wouldn't really strike
home with the aliens. Especially when he took into account that this one had
probably never had contact with any human being.

"Admiral Reo Ku. Why did you attack the Supreme Overlord's worldship and his
escort?"

"We didn't attack either him or his escort."

"If you think you can play me for a fool, infidel, you're wrong. State your
reasons and prepare to die."

Well, that wasn't going as he had hoped, though definitely as he had
expected.

"I can just tell you that you're mistaken, Reo Ku. I'm sorry that we meet
under these circumstances. I will not endanger the treaty and won't let my
people be hurt for something they didn't. I suggest you contact your
superior on the worldship and get yourself a picture of what is going on.
Antilles out."

With that, he heeded the villip no further attention and turned to Corran.

"They're beginning to pursue us, Sir! We haven't reached the moons yet! What
shall we do?"

"Fly faster." Wes Janson's voice suggested in a sickly-sweet tone, drawing
some chuckles out of the colleagues of the nervous, young officer who had
asked this question.

The General ignored this little dialogue and instead caught the green gaze
of his fellow Corellian. "Well?"

"Positive."

"Excellent. Communication? Do I have the connection to the Mirror Chief
now?"

"Yes, Sir. Speak whenever you're ready."

"Mirror Chief?" Corran murmured, now stepping next to his friend into the
sensory area of the communication system.

"Corran, I really can't remember you ever being THAT annoying before."

The Jedi chuckled: "You've just forgotten."

Wedge made a face at him, then smoothed his features and resumed a
reasonably serious expression when the drowsy face of a bald-headed human
appeared on the screen.

"My name is Wedge Antilles. Am I talking to Captain Orid Wya?"

Brown eyes blinked irritated, their owner gaping baffled at the man whose
head he saw hover in front of him in the air.

"Ye..es."

"You're in charge of the orbital mirrors around Coruscant?"

"Umm… General Antilles, Sir… I don't understand.. What…"

"You really don't have to. Simply answer. Now." Wedge's stare was
unemotional and he tried his best to push the fact that his people were
being pursued while ordered not to fight back out of his head.

"Well, yes."

"Good. In a matter of seconds, you will receive a set of coordinates and
calculations. Please check them double and take care that the mirrors are at
the right places when my fleet is arriving."

"Er… sure."

"And you might want to tell civilian traffic to get out of the way."


New Republic Ferry

Feria Bel'asca was biting her lower lip that hard that she wondered whether
it already bled. The young Lorrdian woman had enrolled on Luke Skywalker's
Jedi Academy seven years ago and had been knighted only recently.

She had been proud that Master Skywalker had chosen her to accompany his
sister, President Organa Solo, to the meeting with Supreme Overlord Shimrra.

To know that the Jedi Master had so much trust in her and her abilities had
been a welcome caress for her ego and she had planned this to become a
perfect day, with perfect Jedi behaviour.

Little had she known how very Jedi she would have to be in reality. Glancing
behind her, she noted that the imposing Supreme Overlord hadn't budged a
bit, even while she was flying evasive manoeuvres.

His right hand – or perhaps claw would be a more appropriate term – firmly
grasped the back of her seat and his eyes were hefted forward.

Feria had always been a fairly skilled pilot. She was by no means good
enough to get into a starfighter, but for ferries like this it did and that
well.

Granted, she had never had to search a way through plasma shooting
coralskippers before, but there was a first time for everything.

Sending the ship into a starboard dive, she once again stole a glance at the
Yuuzhan Vong behind her. One of the reasons Master Skywalker had wanted her
to be on this worldship was because of her natural ability to read a being's
gestures and mimic and interpret it.

As it was common with Lorrdians, they were especially fit for such tasks and
therefore appreciated diplomats and mediators.
In the past weeks, Feria had studied as much Yuuzhan Vong recordings as she
had been able to get her hands onto and she had thought to be absolutely
capable of interpreting their movements.

Unfortunately, Supreme Overlord Shimrra had contradicted this assumption
fairly quickly. His face was that heavily distorted and that unmoving that
she couldn't even begin to fathom what he was thinking about.

"Is that far enough?" Her accompany Mak Sofria, an Ishi Tib, asked with a
tad of impatience in his voice. The question was directed at the Supreme
Overlord and although he hadn't yet taken a look at the alien, Shimrra
seemed to be very well aware of it.

"Not yet, Jeedai."

"Your people are pursuing our people. This is going to be narrow." The Ishi
Tib commented, his voice quivering only a little bit with annoyance. He was,
like her, a full-fledged knight and
as such had to suppress impatience. Yet, in such a situation, Feria doubted
even Master Skywalker could reprimand his pupil.

Shimrra didn't deign to reply to this. Feria pushed the thrusters a little
harder and sped after the two fleets that were racing towards the planet and
its moons.

She had no idea what General Antilles had in mind, but she hoped it would
work.


Yuuzhan Vong Worldship Hiis El

Mezhan Kwaad was satisfied with herself. Immensely satisfied. Everything had
gone according to her plan. The infidels had managed to delay her schemes,
but hadn't been able to thwart them.

"Master, can I help you?"

Her apprentice, Nen Yim, stood in one corner of the laboratory, curiously
eyeing the human man that sat in the shaping circle, mute and waiting.

The Master Shaper knew that the younger woman was eager to prove herself and
even more eager to make up for her treason.

The foolish girl had thought she would not recognise by whom Miiram Shimrra
had been warned of the assassination attempt. The most amazing thing was
that even though she now had seen that Mezhan Kwaad was not to be played
with, she still allowed herself illusions.

The Master Shaper wouldn't accept an apprentice that had turned out to be a
traitor to her. Not in the long run. The only reason Nen Yim was still alive
was the fact that she needed her. She had to concentrate on Liin now,
couldn't spare any second to take care of Skywalker's infidel friends.

They were out there, searching for their precious Jedi Master. She didn't
really think them to be able to figure out where they were, but she wasn't
willing to take any unnecessary risks either.

Therefore, someone had to keep watching the entrance to the laboratory.
Someone had to be able to operate the defence animals she had shaped and
grown into her beloved, little craft. This someone was Nen Yim.

"No, Adept. This is a protocol too ancient and complicate for someone of
your skills. With due time, and enough ambition, you'll be able to conduct
it. Not today."

Disappointment flickered over the girl's face, but she bore herself well. "I
see. What can I do instead, Master?"

"Make sure we're not disturbed."

When Yim had nodded dutifully, Mezhan turned away from her and concentrated
once again on the human in front of whom she still kneeled.

"You know what I'll have to do, Liin."

He met her gaze openly, his blue eyes cold and expressionless. The Slayer
wasn't afraid of pain. Fright and panic were foreign concepts to him. He had
not been made to feel them, so he didn't.

"Yes."

"Lay down." She ordered, giving the row of tools that laid on the floor
beside her a last, careful glance. Everything was ready to go. It had
already been for the previous hour, while she had impatiently and eagerly
waited for her creation to come to her.

The human obeyed, stretching out on the yorik coral floor, placing his
wrists and his ankles at the exact right points. The second they touched
down, they were bound by a membrane organism, similar to drev-membrane, that
laid itself around them.

She knew Liin was prepared for Skywalker to make some attempts to regain
control over his body and thoughts. Mezhan herself doubted that the Jeedai
would manage any serious opposition, but she couldn't be absolutely sure of
it. Better to take some unnecessary precautions than to have to injure him
seriously in order to keep him from going loose in her ship.

Mezhan Kwaad was by no means a defenceless woman, but this human was a
dangerous warrior, even if Liin Kwaad did not possess his body. She surely
didn't intend to let herself be killed by him.

Taking a sharp coral knife into her hand, she robbed closer to her dear
Slayer. For a moment, she almost regretted that he was not Yuuzhan Vong.
Pity that a being so wonderful as Liin had to be trapped in a shell so
despicable.

His eyes were hefted on the ceiling and he didn't budge, even as she set the
tip of the knife on his cheekbone, directly below his right eye.

She had been exercising those cuts for months. To any outsider, they looked
so simple, yet they were a very delicate matter. She mustn't cut too deep,
so as not to actually hurt the bone. The perfect cut for this protocol would
have the tip of the knife halt just above the bone and the resulting gash
would be exactly what her seeds needed.

Upon seeing Liin's reaction, Mezhan couldn't help but feel warm pride engulf
her heart. She had him set up well. It had been tricky to conduct the whole
first stage of the protocol under the nose of Priestess Elan.

The young Yuuzhan Vong woman had been annoyingly focused on Luke Skywalker.
Kwaad had never understood what the other had seen in the Jeedai, for it had
been clear that Elan had chosen him not so much because of his might, but
because of his appearance.

Heretic. That was what Elan had been. The Master Shaper smirked evilly. Her
own people considered her to be a heretic. But they wouldn't for long
anymore. As soon as she could present the Slayer to them, they would have to
acknowledge that she was the ultimate Shaper. SHE was the first in decades
to be able to conduct this protocol, the first to actually dare it. SHE
would be the one that would give their caste what it deserved.

Not a single muscle in Liin's body twitched as the knife slid along the
bone, carefully avoiding touching it, only severing skin and flesh. When she
had arrived next to his nose, she carefully withdrew the coral blade and
inspected her work.

A clean, slim, perfectly shaped cut. Still smiling, Mezhan blindly extended
a hand and took a small, white coloured coral seed out of a yorik pod she
had set aside with her tools.

Although her Slayer was still doing admirably, accepting and even thriving
on the pain while shielding it at the same time from Skywalker's presence,
his real test was still to come. The pain of the cut was nothing in
comparison to what would assault him now.

The human body went stiff when she pushed the small, round seed into the
gash, pressing it firmly onto the bone below. Blue eyes narrowed and full
lips were pressed to thin lines, but no sound left his mouth.

Mezhan ignored the obvious signs of pain and set the knife anew to work,
this time on the other cheek of the human. The seeds were the first stage of
purging the annoying Jeedai Lord out of this body.

Combined with the other thing she had in mind, Skywalker would stand no
chance. His mind would perish, once and for all.

Soon she could fish the next coral seed out of the small coral pod. Now the
pain would get not only bad, but excruciating. She hoped Liin would be able
to keep the true owner of this body at bay. Although she trusted the
strength of her creation, she could never be sure.

In the past days, she had come to see that Skywalker was not to be
underestimated and that it would be better not to assume too much. She had
already committed a mistake while she had made a superficial familiar out of
him. Mezhan was ashamed of herself that he had been able to break free of
her conditioning as easily as he had.

It wouldn't happen this time. Determinedly, she pushed the second seed into
the gash, pressing it hard onto the bone, harder than she had pressed the
other one.

A scream tore out of the slender human's throat, shrill and pain-filled.
Even before she actually focused on his face, she knew that she had made the
right decision by restraining him.

*~~

A hot, white flash of agony seared through the blackness that had held him
and it tore apart to drop him into complete disorientation.

Sensations assaulted him, too many to take them all in at once. The most
prominent of them was a burning ache in his face that kept him from opening
his eyes the second awareness returned to him. In fact, it felt as if his
eyeballs might just fall out if he opened his lids.

Trying in vain to battle down the pain with the Force, he tried to take in
his surroundings with eyes closed as best he could. He was laying on his
back, his arms and legs secured firmly. The scent of fresh blood filled his
nostrils, making him almost gag. It mixed with another scent, a scent he
knew all too well.

Yorik coral. He was in a room made of yorik coral. And he was restrained.
Panic crept into his heart when his brain drew the obvious conclusions.

No. No, it couldn't be. It simply couldn't be. He had been safe. With Mara,
with Leia, with Han. It couldn't be. It was a nightmare. Just another
nightmare. It was not real. It MUSTN'T be real.

Another flash of pain made him gasp and, involuntarily, his eyes flung open.
The sight that greeted him made him freeze in absolute horror.

"Welcome home, Jeedai." Mezhan Kwaad grinned at him.

"No.." It was a weak croak, nothing more, when Luke shook his head in
denial. This couldn't be true. He would wake soon, shaken by Mara, and she
would soothe him and tell him it had all been a dream. Just a dream.

Mezhan Kwaad cackled and laid her pincer finger onto his chin. Her cold,
green eyes met his straight on and twinkled in obvious delight.

"Oh yes, my dear. Oh yes. Aren't you glad to see me again?"

Panting, Luke forced himself to not flinch away from her gaze. He wouldn't
show her how afraid he was. He wouldn't give her this satisfaction.  Yet,
concentrating was difficult. He felt like trapped in a haze.

His memory was blank. How did he come to be here? Where WAS here?

For a short, terrible moment, Luke feared that everything had been nothing
but a dream. His rescue, Chandrila… his baby. Had it been a hallucination,
born from delirium, while Kwaad had tortured him? Had he never left this
terrible place? Her laboratory?

"Oh, don't worry, you have. Unfortunately. But you won't be here for long
anymore."

Absurd hope surged forward in his heart, if only for the fraction of a
second. Of course she didn't mean to let him go. Fear, cold, desperate fear,
made his thoughts slow and sluggish, but finally, after what had seemed to
be a small eternity, he managed to get words out of his mouth.

"I will not succumb to Liin." After pausing to catch his breath, he added:
"I can bear the pain, Kwaad."

The Master Shaper nodded, smiling, and bent closer to him: "Of course you
can, Jeedai. But can you bear the memory of it, too?"

Grinning evilly, she laid pushed her hand under his head and grasped his
neck. She effortlessly lifted it just a little bit. Narrowed eyes stayed
focused on her face, filled with fear as well as determination. If it came
to stubbornness, he didn't lack anything of Liin. A fact that made it all
the more amusing to break him.

With uttermost delight, Mezhan held her pincer finger in front of the
Jeedai's eyes. "You didn't think I wouldn't rely on other means to make you
obey, did you?" she asked innocently.

Luke stared at it, panic finally seizing him completely. The world swam
around him; coldness reached into every single muscle of his body.
Everything would repeat itself. The membrane, the hole… the pain.

Before he could get a hold of himself, Luke cried out in terror, his body
wriggling in its restraints with the sole purpose of fleeing, of getting
away from the monster that had inhabited his nightmares and sprung to life
once again.

And in this very moment, another presence, that had thoroughly
underestimated the power of pain before, stroke again.

*~~

They had almost given up the search in this corridor. The small group of
beings had gone through it again and again, had reconstructed the past hour
meticulously. Every step of Solo had been retraced. It had only left one
direction in which Luke could have gone. But this direction led only to a
dead end.

Desperation had seized the humans when it had become obvious that they had
lost him. They couldn't fathom where he had gone. Neither his sister nor his
wife could feel him.

"I saw him go in here." Han murmured. His complexion was paler than usual,
almost a sickly grey. For all he knew, Luke could long be with Mezhan Kwaad.
Liin had gone there for a purpose. There was no telling what the Shaper
would do to his friend to ensure that the Slayer would stay prominent. That
Luke would perish totally.

Leia carefully took his right hand into hers. Her eyes were dull, duller
than he had ever seen them, yet she managed to give him a small half-smile.
"It's not your fault, Han."

Although he appreciated the gesture and loved her for thinking at him when
her heart obviously ached for her brother, Han was thrown into a fit of
intense anger.

Making himself free of his wife, he shook his head defiantly: "No. I lost
him. I should have gone after him. I should have…"

Before he could finish his sentence, a cry tore through the glum stillness
of the dimly lit yorik coral corridor. The familiarity of the voice made
them all spun around, staring at the solid wall behind them.

For long moments, their gazes were fixed onto it. They had tested it with
careful knocks – it sounded as massive as all the other walls in the
vicinity. Luke couldn't be anywhere behind it, could he? Yet they had all
heard the cry. There was no chance Han could have just imagined it.

Another cry permeated the air, louder – terrified. Suddenly he felt Leia
stumble beside him. Her hands flew to her face, clasping her cheeks, and her
eyes widened in terror.

"Noooo!" That was Mara's voice.

Han turned his head just in time to see the redhead throw herself onto the
yorik coral wall, her lightsaber cutting deep into it. Fury and fear showed
on her beautiful face, while she shouted her husband's name repeatedly.

After exchanging befuddled glances, both Miiram Shimrra and Khalee Lah
joined the ex-Emperor's Hand in her task, their amphistaffs cutting neatly
through the yorik coral.

*~~

'Go back to sleep, Skywalker!'

The voice was deep, growling and downright dripping with evil. His first
instinct was to back away from it, but how could he?

Desperation reined his thoughts when he opened his eyes, staring right into
the face of the being he feared most in this universe. He was barely aware
of the hoarse cries of panic that left his throat, was barely aware of his
body straining against the material that held it on the cold yorik coral
floor.

All he saw was this face that smiled at him, so sinister and yet so genuine
and the pincer that was held in front of his eyes, so that he couldn't do
anything but look directly at it.

Reflexively, he pressed his eyes shut, only to be immediately assaulted by
the other voice again. It was not Mezhan's voice. It was male.

'Go back to sleep, little Jeedai. This is my place. Not yours anymore.'

It was tempting. All too tempting. He was tired, so tired, and if he
listened to the voice, he
wouldn't have to face Mezhan Kwaad anymore. No pain, no fear, no
complications. Just peace. Forever. Eternal calm.

'Yes. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it all for you. Just go
back to sleep.'

Though he didn't really want to, Luke couldn't help but succumb slowly to
this voice. Dimly, he felt how his head sank back onto the floor, heard the
laughter of the Master Shaper, but half of him didn't really care anymore.

This half of him simply wanted to sleep. It didn't matter that Liin would
take control. There was no point in fighting anymore. All he would get out
of fighting was pain. Horrific pain. Everything would happen anew. The hole,
the membrane. But if he slept…. If he slept, everything would be fine.

While he sank deeper into oblivion once again, a small part of Luke
Skywalker tried desperately to cling to the Force.

*~~

At first it had been almost inaudible a hum. So low and soft that Nen Yim
had completely missed it. She had been riveted by what was going on back in
the shaping circle. Only when it had been too late had she noticed the
impending doom.

A huge chunk of yorik coral had crippled to the floor next to her and behind
her, causing her to stumble some steps into the room.

When she had turned around, shocked and surprised, she had stared straight
into the eyes of Miiram Shimrra, the daughter of the Supreme Overlord.

For a moment, she had been too stunned to move. Conflicting emotions raced
through her soul. She was loyal to her race, loyal to Supreme Overlord
Shimrra. Had always been. Yet, the main loyalty of a Shaper apprentice had
to lay with his or her Master. It was an unwritten law and if there was
anything Nen Yim had incorporated more than the culture of her race than it
was the code of the Shapers.

Pressing her lips together, meeting the stare of her lord's daughter, she
shouted a warning that was a command at the same time. A command that
activated the self-defence animals Mezhan Kwaad had had installed in her
ship.

Inexplicable tears stinging in her eyes, Nen Yim turned and ran.

*~~

The moment they had pushed through the wall, things had begun to happen too
fast for anyone to comprehend. It was filed away in subconscious memory and
clear understanding would only come later to the ones involved.

Mara barely acknowledged the petite, young Yuuzhan Vong woman when she
entered what was, as she assumed, Mezhan Kwaad's secret laboratory. That was
probably Nen Yim. She saw her stumble away, deeper into the ship, in the
direction out of which the cries had come.

When the girl had left the anteroom the small group stood in, a buzzing
began to fill it immediately.

"Thud bugs." Khalee Lah growled, bringing his amphistaff in front of his
face.

"And razor bugs." Miiram added, mirroring his movements and putting herself
back to back with him.

The three humans eyed their Yuuzhan Vong companions for a moment, unsure
whether they should proceed without them. Mara sought the gaze of her friend
and received a grim nod.

"Go look for your mate. We'll handle that."

With grateful nods, Han, Leia and Mara proceeded to follow Nen Yim.

"I didn't know you have an amphistaff. Yet another heresy." Khalee growled
in Yuuzhan Vong as the two of them were alone, with only about three dozen
of bugs to keep them company.

"If you can convince me that you would like me to have none at the moment, I
will immediately back out of the bonding."

"Why your father hasn't yet executed or sacrificed you is beyond me."

"It is beyond him, too." Miiram snickered.

With a grunt that could be interpreted as the poor attempt to stifle
laughter, her betrothed charged as the first of the bugs made a go at them.

*~~

The sight that greeted Mara was pure horror. Deep, seething rage cursed
through her veins as she took in the scene and it took all her will to keep
herself from giving in to the Dark Side. Never in her life had she felt its
call as strong as now.

The laboratory was a vast hall, filled with all possible yorik coral jars
that contained things impossible to identify. Off to the far left corner of
the room, there was a big, round blotch of lighter coral and in this blotch
she found her husband, the tall, lean form of the Master Shaper bent over
him.

He was bound to the floor by a dark-blue shimmering materiel. Blood streamed
down his face, fresh and dark red. He didn't move and no sound came from his
lips anymore.

A couple of meters ahead of them, the girl, Nen Yim, stumbled to her
Mistress, though the warning came definitely too late.

Her lightsaber humming reassuringly in her hand, Mara barked a short:
"Han!", confidant that her brother-in-law would understand.

Upon seeing that Leia was expertly seizing Nen Yim by her left wrist and
twisting her arm around, leading her away from the Master Shaper, Mara threw
herself onto Mezhan Kwaad without even bothering to shout her rage into the
Yuuzhan Vong's face.

*~~

Han was next to his brother-in-law in a couple of quick, fast steps. Mara
wouldn't have needed the command. The Corellian had seen the fury in her
eyes and had known immediately that she would go for the Master Shaper.
There was no way to prevent that and if he was honest, he didn't really want
to either.

Mezhan Kwaad would get what she had deserved. Han had often admired Luke for
the way he was able to deal with things like rage, lust for revenge and
fury, but he had never allowed himself the illusion to be able to imitate
that.

Kneeling down next to Luke, his own hatred for the Master Shaper multiplied.
The vast amount of blood that was trickling down the younger man's face
stemmed, as Han could see now, from two deep, clean-cut gashes on his
cheeks.

Had this witch tortured him? Or did these injuries have a deeper sense?

His questions were answered when he cupped Luke's cheek, feeling the hot
liquid stream over his hands, and saw a small white ball in either of them.

Recognising this as the slave seeds he knew so well from the unfortunate
beings they had freed from the Yuuzhan Vong, Han swore vehemently.

Hurrying, he buried his thumb and index finger as carefully as he could in
the gash on the Jedi's left cheek and securely grasped the seed. The
Corellian just hoped that it hadn't yet
connected too closely with the bone below. Otherwise, they would have to get
Luke to a surgeon, and that quick.

To his relief, he had no problems getting it out. Small tendrils already
extended from the underside of the seed, bloody and thick, but they were too
short. The seed was new.

He repeated the procedure with the other cheek, drawing a groan out of the
prone form of his friend. This wound had obviously been inflicted upon him
before the other, for it was already tighter and in the first stages of
growing together.

Having taken care of the second slave seed, Han cupped Luke's face, shaking
it a little. His friend's eyes fluttered open and closed and the Corellian
could glimpse nothing but white in them. He had to be in excruciating pain
and Han's stomach protested at the mere thought of it.

"Luke? Luke, come on. You hear me. Show me that you hear me."

*~~

Another voice intruded into his head. At first, he had wanted it to shut up.
Drifting slowly into sleep and losing more and more of the pain was a
wonderful sensation that he didn't intend to let be spoiled by either Liin
or Mezhan Kwaad.

But then, slowly, he had registered that this was not the voice of either of
the Yuuzhan Vong. It was a voice that awoke pleasant memories in him,
pleasant feelings of security, friendship and love.

"Luke? Luke… on… me… show… hear me."

It drifted in and out of his awareness, together with the pain. And it did
something else. It strengthened him.

A part of him didn't want to listen to it. Pain was linked to this voice.
Listening to it, obeying it, meant accepting more pain. He didn't want that.
And yet…

Luke felt the Force surge through him the next time the voice formed a word
he could understand and he knew, all of a sudden, that he had to fight.
There were people out there who trusted him. They wouldn't want him to give
up. He couldn't let Liin win. He had to bear the pain. He had to. For them.

*~~

Han had repeated his calls, desperately, stubbornly, telling himself that it
would help Luke to fight. And now that the blue eyes he knew so well
fluttered open and stared at him, pain-filled but awake, the Corellian
released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Luke!" he exclaimed relieved.

"Han… the bonds…" the Jedi Master's voice was strained. Those gashes had to
be still painful and it was obvious that he had to concentrate immensely to
stay awake.

"Sure. In a minute, kid." Han pulled his old, trusted vibro blade out of his
boot and began to cut the jelly-like organism away from Luke's wrists. They
were raw and a little bloody. Obviously he had strained against his bonds in
panic.

Han swallowed a little, lifting his head to ask Luke whether he had been
hurt anywhere else except in his face, and immediately slapped him lightly
when he saw that the younger man was about to doze off again.

"Luke, talk to me. I want to have YOU with me, not Liin."

"Don't worry. I'm with you." Luke assured him, smiling feebly. He felt tired
and drained; weary to the bone. And sleepy. He didn't deny it. Liin fought
to come back. But he wouldn't let him. He had him under control. Luke didn't
know what had changed, but something had and he was glad about it.

*~~

"Tell me one reason not to kill you." Mara growled. Mezhan Kwaad crouched in
front of her, pressed to the wall, a small line of blood trickling down her
nose. She had not been a helpless victim for Mara, but had had nothing that
had prevented the ex-Emperor's Hand from nailing her down on the long run.
Especially not with the determination cursing through the redhead's veins.

"Your culture is despicable, infidel. How can you even consider mercy for
me? After what I did to your precious mate?" The Master Shaper smiled at
her, still no trace of fear showing on her alien face. Almost as if she
still expected to win.

Mara allowed herself a feral grin and brought the tip of her blue energy
blade close to the other woman's throat. "You're so right, Kwaad."

Mezhan inclined her head, her smile broadening. "I am pleased to see that
you seem to be an infidel with less heretic scruples."

The ex-Emperor's Hand simply glared at her, then turned her head towards the
shaping circle. "Luke?" she queried while she witnessed how her husband sat
up carefully. Han was working on his right foot, grumbling curses at the
sticky materiel.

Blood was still streaming down his face, but the Jedi Master nodded: "I'm
all right. A little woozy, but that's the blood loss."

Relief poured through Mara as she refocused on the Master Shaper still
crouching in front of her, seemingly subdued. Why, though, did her eyes
still shine with this light Mara had come to associate with the beginning of
madness over the years?

"You think you've won, Jeedai. But you know nothing."

That was Nen Yim's voice. The petite girl was held firmly by Leia, who was a
little smaller than her, yet better trained and far more determined. The
brown eyes of the Princess rested on her brother, full of worry and love.

Mezhan Kwaad laughed at the words of her apprentice and regarded Mara with
open mirth: "You know, infidel, she may be a traitor to me in certain
regards, but this time, she is definitely right."

Cackling a little bit, she peered through Mara's legs at Luke, who was
crouched low at the moment in order to give Han easier access to the living
bond that still held his right foot. His face was hidden in his hands, both
to stop the bleeding and ease the pain of the cuts.

She sneered something in Yuuzhan Vong, earning herself a vicious kick into
her stomach by Mara.

The ex-Emperor's Hand had already opened her mouth to fling an insult at the
Master Shaper when she was interrupted by another cry, this time uttered by
Leia. It wasn't even articulated, just an expression of utter shock and Mara
spun around just in time to see Han pick himself up from the floor about
three meters away from where he had previously worked on freeing Luke's
foot.

Her gaze immediately settling on her husband, she felt herself go numb.
Everything seemed to go on in slow motion while she watched as Luke
increased the power of Han's vibro-blade. An absurd grin plastered on his
face, he gripped the weapon harder and prepared to thrust it into his own
heart.

"Luke, no!"

 

| To Be Continued |

 

 

Back to author's Page

Back to Fan Fiction