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In The Shadows
By Sienn
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Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Spoilers: See Chapter 1
Rating for Chapter: NC-17
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Chapter 15
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He was wondering - wondering and lost in an inexplicable maze of memories
and knowledge, of pictures and impressions that he couldn't place although
he was desperately trying to do so. Because he knew that it was important he
remembered and even more so that he woke.
Jedi Master Luke Skywalker listened to his own breath as it travelled
through his mouth and nose into his lungs and back out again, faintly aware
of the metallic taste of blood. He grasped the sensation and held it, trying
to use it as his pathway back to reality, but it was too fleeting. More was
needed to shake him out of his stupor and when it finally came he couldn't
help but groan in protest.
The light seemed incredibly harsh to his eyes as he blinked them open, but
the beautiful sight of his wife, her face framed by fiery red and graced
with the brilliance of her jade gems, did more to revive him than any
stimshot could possibly have. Luke smiled - quite lazily so - as the world
swam slowly into focus and cleared. He frowned only when his newfound
awareness revealed the deep, unwilling scowl on the woman's face.
"What?" he inquired.
Mara Jade Skywalker's eyes narrowed to slits as she shook her head and
slipped an arm under his shoulders in order to help him sit up. "Only you
could ask," she muttered.
The handsome man's puzzlement rang through the Force as he pursed his lips
and scanned his love's face in astonishment. He wanted to lift his right and
caress her cheek - reassure her, because he hated seeing her like this. It
didn't work and his irritation mounted. "What happened?"
The former Emperor's Hand manoeuvred him against one of the corridor's
walls, the expression in her eyes a mix of bemusement and annoyance. "You,
Luke Skywalker, just about fried yourself. Look what you did to your hand!"
Red-gold strands of silky hair were flying as she shook her head anew and
laid his prosthetic into his lap, as carefully as she possibly could. Luke
bowed his head to take a look and grimaced as the stink of burned synthflesh
filled his nostrils. Vaporized coolants were rising in small, oily clouds
from the fused circuitry that had been exposed as the electricity cursing
through him had burned away almost all of the skin on the back of his hand.
His fingers lay limp in his wife's palm as she grasped them and he could not
move them no matter how much he willed them to.
"Oh," Luke said.
Mara abandoned her perusal and stared at him, "Oh?" She crossed her arms in
front of her chest. Despite her rumpled appearance - her hair in disorder
and her gown soiled, ripped and most definitely ruined beyond restoration -
she managed to look angry enough to hit him. "Is that all you can say?"
Luke pursed his lips and gave an unwilling shake of his head that sent stars
dancing in front of his eyes. He ignored them and they vanished after only a
couple of moments, "It was the only thing I could have done," He was
determined to defend his actions. Han and Leia were in deadly peril and he
would almost have joined them in their predicament - it would have condemned
all of them to death. He had had to act as quickly as possible. There had
been no time for refined plans.
"Is that so?" Mara's voice was acidic as she ripped the smouldering remains
of his shirt's right arm off him and inspected the angry burns on his
natural skin. The layer of Force energy he had wrapped around himself as a
protective shield had spared him life-threatening or even scarring burns..
Most of his body was completely untouched because he had been quick enough
to not give the deadly energy the time to hurt him.
His right arm, however, had had to bear twice the amount of destructive
energy. The electricity taken from the net of magnetic field generators and
the explosion that had wrecked his artificial hand. His skin was red and
delicate and had to be hurting. Quite so, in fact.
"It's not so bad," he murmured, as if in answer to her thoughts.
A look into his face revealed him as a liar. He was pale and she could see
the sheen of sweet on his forehead. His eyes seemed somewhat glassy and she
could feel his slightly elevated body temperature. The amount of energy that
had been coursing through him was unimaginable. He had been insulated
against the biggest part of it - the Force was an amazing tool in the hands
of a Master - but what had been left to nearly overwhelm him had to be
absorbed. It had done no damage, but it hadn't resolved just like that
either.
Her husband had put his body through the wringer and it showed.
There was more in his eyes, though - desperation, fear and fierce
determination. It was what stilled Mara's tongue. The worry for him, the
fear she had felt and the heartache it caused her to see him like this were
nearly dizzying in their intensity, but she knew to tell him and caution him
would not only fall on deaf ears, it would burden him. A fatal handicap in a
situation such as theirs.
Aside from that, she was well aware that their time was running out. She
assumed that not more than three or four minutes had passed since the two
mercenaries - lying dead as of now - had made their move on them, in the
elevator shaft. Borsk Fey'lya would know by now that something had gone
wrong. Reinforcements were bound to be on the way - that or some other trap
was being laid.
In any case, they could not afford to be out in the open, unmoving, for all
too long. Every second they lingered brought Han and Leia a step closer to
death.
Luke's pools of azure met her gaze, conveying so much emotion and so much
bravery and love that Mara had to swallow around a sudden lump in her
throat.
"Thank you," he said softly.
He would know how hard it was for her to watch him place himself into
danger; he would know how horrible she found it that time and again she
could not protect him from it. Only help and stand by his side. It was a lot
and she felt that Luke considered it more than enough. To Mara, though, it
tasted of bitter failure. It always would.
The redhead smiled and sent him her love, her unconditional support, while
she ripped a chunk of material off her gown and wound it around his right,
covering the gaping hole and the revealed mechanics beneath. She felt Luke
relax - it was never easy for him to be reminded of this fateful day all
these years ago.
"You won't be able to use it anytime soon." Mara said as she rose. She moved
to support him as he straightened himself but Luke batted her help away with
a smile as he came upright. There was but a short sway to his slender frame
until he stood secure. The Force was flowing around him and into him in a
fascinating pattern and although he could not heal himself in the blink of
an eye, she knew he was excellent at suppressing pain and the immediate
effects of injuries for a long time.
The Jedi Master didn't seem very pleased but wasn't about to let the
handicap slow him down. Glancing over to the blotch of darkness that was
everything they could see of the elevator shaft, he rolled his left shoulder
to work the pins and needles out of it. "Let's get my lightsaber back. Then
we go find Fey'lya."
*~~
The display was blank. The contact to the cameras in the elevator shaft had
been interrupted and plunged the screen into darkness. Cros' calls for his
men to check back in had gone unanswered and Borsk Fey'lya was pacing in
barely suppressed agitation.
His violet eyes were glistening with anticipation. He was clearly annoyed at
the delay, but didn't seem to be all too worried as he kept watching the
leader of his henchmen. His two captives had, for the moment, lost his
attention and Leia was glad about it.
The past few minutes had been horrible to her. She had watched as the
electricity had spanned the shaft and shed its eerie, flickering light - she
had seen her brother lose contact to the Force and heard him cry out as his
shoulder strained under the weight of his body. He hadn't been dead and fear
hadn't yet morphed into terror on the part of the Alderaanian Princess at
that point.
Now, though, her heart was beating wildly in a near panic. What had
happened? Why had they lost visual contact? The possibilities were endless
and with Luke hanging precariously over the edge of the abyss, there were
too many fatal ways the situation could have worked out.
Everything inside her was telling her that Luke was alive. Her twin was
smart, he was quick and resourceful. And he was a Jedi Master. Leia couldn't
count the times she had deemed a situation hopeless, a catastrophe
unavoidable, only to turn and find her brother do whatever had come to his
mind to turn the tables in their favour. She had to have trust that this was
another time where he would prove why he was considered a legend all over
the galaxy. If she renounced confidence, if she allowed herself to believe
he was death, everything would be lost.
Fear and worry, however, were powerful emotions and they attacked her
resolve. Leia turned her head and glanced over to her husband. Han Solo was
still bound and still sitting in the corner of the bland room. And he was
grinning.
Warmth flooded her, his trust in his brother-in-law, his trust in all of
them strengthening her soul. The Princess found a smile of her own as the
deep voice of her beloved cut through the still air.
"Don't bother," The drawl was directed at Cros. Dark eyes - the only visible
part of the other's body underneath the mask and his combat suit - glared at
the Corellian. Han only grinned wider and was gracious enough to elaborate
his advice, "They're done for. You're addressing empty air."
The Bothan stopped and focused upon Han. The flaring anger both the tall
pirate and his wife had expected wasn't there - instead, the nose of the
alien wrinkled as his lips curled and exposed his teeth, "These were highly
trained mercenaries. With Ysalamiri."
"Maybe," Han acknowledged. He gave his wife another beaming smile and nodded
over to the display. "But they were up against more than they could handle.
Mara alone could have gobbled them up for breakfast. I don't want to know
what Luke's done to them."
Bereft of the Force as she was, Leia could not feel Han's intentions or his
emotions, but she knew him well enough to read whatever she had to know on
his face and in his gestures. Even in the tone of his voice. He played for
time and he wanted to irk Fey'lya. He wanted to provoke him and incite him
to make mistakes. And, the Princess was sure, had simply a good time baiting
someone he despised.
Leia Organa smirked and decided that she could as well play along. It would
take her mind and heart off the worry for her beloved brother and his wife
and it was a wonderful way to work off frustration.
"My brother doesn't take lightly to threats against me or Han, you know."
She swung her left leg over her right and leant back against the wall,
cocking a challenging eyebrow at her captor, "Haven't you talked to Fyor?"
When Fey'lya frowned, she smacked her lips and nodded, "I suppose he
wouldn't have told you that he almost wet his pants a couple of days ago. He
was scared of Luke." Her smile vanished and she laid all the cold she could
into her gaze, "You should be, too."
Violet sparked and a feral snarl escaped the former politician as he
glowered at the petite female that seemed to be no more afraid as if he were
a Chandrilan squall that had accidentally ended up in her garden. It fuelled
his fury, as did the way things were not going according to his schedule.
"I am not afraid of Luke Skywalker."
"I'm not surprised," Han offered, "We already determined that you're an
idiot."
The howl was testimony to an insane rage that visibly tore the towering
Bothan apart and both humans held their breath in worried expectation as he
was about to make his way over to Han. Whatever Borsk Fey'lya had in mind to
do didn't come to pass however.
Before he had even made his second step, Cros' voice had his head veer
around, pointed ears and long fur flapping. "There they are."
Fey'lya was immediately at his side and glanced down at the display. The
mercenary had activated more cameras and fed their visual input into the
miniature screen. Luke and Mara were clearly visible as they made their way
through the corridors, with all the cautious confidence that befitted
warriors of their ability and experience. The Jedi Master's lightsaber was
attached to his thigh and the Bothan snarled once again, "Where did he get
it? And where are your men?"
Cros' eyes were expressionless, "My best guess - they're dead."
"Listen to him," Han said good-naturedly, "He's smart."
"Shut up."
"I have more men," the mercenary said. He didn't sound concerned. "They're
all equipped with Ysalamiri. Skywalker might have survived but he cannot use
his powers on us. Neither can Jade. Our situation has not deteriorated, Sir.
We are safe."
"He's now on to us and will be here in a matter of minutes," Fey'lya
muttered.
Cros seemed somewhat fazed for the first time, "We can hold him off while
you retreat, Master Fey'lya. That won't be a problem."
The fur at the back of the Bothan's neck stood on end, "Retreat? I won't
retreat, you fool! Not when I'm only inches away from my goal."
The mercenary stared. It was clear that he was not fully comprehending what
his superior was talking about. The man's jaw worked for a while beneath the
heavy fabric of his mask before he spoke again, "Sir, you can kill Solo and
the Princess just as well when you're in safety."
"No, I cannot!" Fey'lya roared. His arm sneaked out and a clawed finger
pointed at the woman who sat calmly watching. She had made sure that not a
trace of her jumbled emotions, no trace of her fear, was visible on her face
or in her eyes. "I want her to suffer, don't you understand? She shall see
her brother die in front of her eyes and at my hands. And then her husband.
What good does it do to simply shoot her in the head? What kind of revenge
would it be?"
Dark, human eyes narrowed, "We don't have Skywalker, Sir. He is no longer in
an exposed position."
The Bothan growled, "Are you saying you can't secure him?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying. This," he flaunted the portable display
into his superior's furred, alien face, "is the Jedi Master. And the
Emperor's Hand. They're not trapped. They have their weapons. They are
conscious and alert. They know we have Ysalamiri and can look out for the
voids. Sending my men to capture him would mean sending them to their
death."
"As I said, smart man." Han chuckled from the corner.
Fey'lya's feral gaze blazed as he grasped the truth of his underling's
statement. He was following Luke's and Mara's every movement and it was not
hard to see the thoughts racing through his head at the speed of light. He
seemed to be warring with different ideas but the diabolical smirk he
sported after several moments left no doubt as to the way his final decision
satisfied him.
"You can slice into the loudspeakers so that he can hear us, can't you?" The
Bothan asked.
Cros nodded, "Of course."
Han Solo felt his heart leap into his throat as the crazed traitor took
Leia's left arm into a vice grip and dragged her upright, bringing the
muzzle of his blaster against her temple. He could but watch helplessly as
he dragged his wife with him into the centre of the room.
Borsk Fey'lya's breath was hot as he stared down at the much smaller woman
and grinned, "Let's have a talk with your brother."
*~~
Night was falling rapidly as the small, unobtrusive speeder wove its way
through the traffic lanes of Coruscant City. The gigantic metropolis offered
a stunning amount of differently coloured lights and to many it would always
be a spectacular experience to see all this while darkness fell.
The five Noghri in the speeder did not bother about the sights. Light was
uncomfortable to their highly sensitive predators' eyes and they were in
general a people barely prone to notice irrelevant things such as these.
Their thoughts were monopolized by the small human child they were supposed
to protect from harm and by the possible reasons for the obvious discomfort
the boy was suffering from.
Meewalh clan Kihm'bar shifted the toddler in her arms, irritated beyond what
was appropriate for a Noghri Elder at his continued sniffling and sobbing
despite the tender ministrations he had been poured over with by his five
babysitters.
The big blue eyes of the heir of the Son of Vader were red and puffy and
held an expression of despair that shouldn't have room in one so young. The
mature woman bowed her head and sniffed the air around Ben Skywalker,
hissing in defeat. "There is just nothing physically wrong with him." She
said.
The Noghri in the passenger seat in front of her turned. It was a male, a
couple of years her junior - Cakhmaihm clan Rak'nor mustered their precious
bundle with his dark eyes. "Maybe it has something do with the Force. We
would be unable to discern such a problem."
Meewalh considered this. "It is not impossible. But he has never behaved in
a similar way."
The implications prompted a heavy silence to fall over the group of aliens.
It grew only heavier, steelier, as they rounded a skydome and caught sight
of the Commenorian Embassy, their destination. A hole gaped in the side of
the building, light spilling forth from it. A lone, tall figure was
silhouetted against the backdrop of debris and dust and waved hysterically
as it saw the speeder not pass, but actually approach.
The eldest Noghri of the group deposited Ben Skywalker in the arms of one of
the two younger females and stood on her strong legs, "Kahklakh, Malhklahk.
You will stay with the son of the Young Lord Vader."
The youngest Noghri showed her teeth, "No harm will come to him." Her
companion - her sister, in truth - merely nodded.
Meewalh purred in appreciation and cut her eyes at what she saw as her
Noghri pilot had them hover as close to the hole - a ruined window, they
could now see - as he possibly could.
"It seems," Cakhmaihm mounced, "that the Young Lord Vader has found
trouble."
His compatriot clacked her jaws. "Once again," she murmured.
*~~
Luke Skywalker was rapidly nearing the end of his patience. It wasn't the
pain that nagged at him - he could handle the throbbing in his skull, the
burning of his skin and the sharp spikes that pierced his chest whenever he
moved too quick or sudden for his cracked rib to bear. What he could not
deal with was the insecurity.
They had been travelling the lightened, empty corridors for several minutes,
in a much slower pace than he would have liked. Speeding, though, would have
been unreasonable and too rash. The former farmboy knew this. it didn't mean
he liked it.
So far, there had been no reaction whatsoever on the part of the Bothan and
his hired thugs. This puzzled the Jedi and scared him profoundly. What if
Fey'lya had already killed Han and Leia and had fled the building?
Shielded by the Force negating effect of the Ysalamiri, neither Luke nor
Mara would have felt this. The thought of stumbling over the corpses of his
twin sister and his best friend were slowly freezing the Jedi's insides with
fear and burning his heart with barely controllable rage.
He did not know what he would have done had Mara not been by his side. His
wife's presence was a steady feeling of love, support and tenderness in his
mind. They did not speak, for they did not want to alert Fey'lya or his
mercenaries to their presence too early. Fortunately, it had been years and
years ago since they had needed words to convey what they felt.
She grounded him, in more ways than one. The fury within him had opened the
door for other feelings that Luke had not felt in a long time and they
scared him. He did not want them to take control, did not want to live them.
He didn't know, however, whether he would be able to keep them in check if
his worst nightmares came to bear.
The Jedi Master was tightly strung and it was visible. His lightsaber was in
his hand and activated even while carefully hidden loudspeakers crackled to
life. Ice blue eyes searched the walls, the corners where they met the
ceiling, and finally located several small, circular grilles.
He glanced at Mara and she nodded at him - so she had seen them, too. Her
lightsaber - his father's old blade - laid in her hand, as of yet not
activated.
Although they had both known who would be speaking, actually hearing the
voice had an immediate effect on them. The arrogance and disdain seemed to
drip off it and these were emotions both Jedi could barely tolerate from the
traitorous alien they were coming from.
"It has been a while since we spoke, Skywalker." Borsk Fey'lya said. "Many
things have happened. Your praise has been sung all over the galaxy, once
again. I'm sure my endeavours of the past two years have not made their way
to you."
Luke abandoned his ready stance but did not shut off his weapon. The tip of
the blade pointed to the floor as he glowered up to one of the grilles,
hoping that the Bothan would see him and be afraid. If he wasn't, the
renowned war hero vowed to make sure he would be.
"I have been very busy, forging alliances, making plans. Now I can see
everything come to pass and it's satisfying in a way I'm sure you could
never relish. Of course you could not play according to the rules of
another. You never could. I should have known. Fortunately, I am very good
at improvisation."
There was a short pause until he resumed again, the tone of his voice
suggesting a grin on the non-human's invisible features. "You will lay down
your weapon and follow the corridor to your right. Your wife will stay where
she is. Losing you and the others will be punishment enough for the way she
kept spoiling my plans in the past. Of course you already know what is at
stake, but let me say it again, just to make sure you understand. You are
here within the next four minutes or your sister will suffer."
Another crackle told them he had signed off. Mara was standing, petrified,
as the Bothan's words sunk in. She had seldom been in predicaments that had
left her bereft of options - this seemed to become one of those rare
occurrences and it scared her.
She felt her heart skip a beat as Luke unceremoniously extinguished his
sabre and let it clatter to the floor. The Jedi looked over to her, the blue
of his eyes dark and stormy. There was so much she could read in him -
despair, helplessness, profound fear for his twin and his brother-in-law.
But what worried her far more was the rage in these azure depths, the fury
that she could see in his trembling body, his muscles poised for attack -
attack in the defence of those he loved.
She did not want him to go on his own. She knew that there was no other
choice.
Luke threw his soul against hers, they mingled and embraced and kissed in a
way that went beyond physical contact and then he vanished into the
designated corridor, his steps quick and determined.
Mara stayed back, gripping the handle of her lightsaber only harder. She was
sure Fey'lya did not expect her to truly comply. All he wanted was for her
to let Luke walk into wherever he was hiding alone. The Bothan would expect
her to follow, but would try to make sure she wouldn't be fast enough.
The former Emperor's Hand smirked humourlessly at no one and nothing in
particular, counted to ten and followed her husband. She would simply need
to make sure to be fast enough.
*~~
"You keep Jade out of my fur, Cros." Borsk Fey'lya still clutched Leia to
himself and gestured to the only door that led into and out of their base of
operations, "I'll be able to handle Skywalker on my own. Just leave one of
the lizards to me."
The mercenary complied and soon the three of them were left alone. Han
traded an anxious gaze with Leia, insecure as to what the Bothan might have
in mind, but reasonably certain it wouldn't be to their liking. The fact
that he was still pointing his blaster at the Princess' temple had the
Corellian's stomach roil and he wished that there was a way for him to shed
the stun cuffs that restrained him. He had checked the settings first thing
after waking. Were he to significantly move - in other words, to get up - he
would be sent back into unconsciousness. He was forced to sit and watch and
he hated it.
Ere long, they heard the steps of booted feet echo down the corridor and
soon Fey'lya cackled as the lean form of the Jedi Master entered the
chamber, halting at the place Cros had occupied mere minutes ago.
Luke Skywalker took in the situation in a matter of moments and three pairs
of eyes met, exchanging a flurry of emotions that could only be understood
through years-long love and acquaintance. The former farmboy's gaze halted
on the five bloody streaks on his twin sister's cheek and his eyes lost all
warmth.
He sought the violet gaze of the Bothan and took a step closer, all
controlled strength and unshakable determination, "I already warned your pet
Senator from that mistake. Did he not tell you?"
A short flicker of insecurity haunted Fey'lya's eyes, confronted as he was
with a Luke Skywalker that he had never seen. He did not know that the woman
he held hostage had and Leia Organa's heart constricted in yet a completely
different sort of fear. Was he playing a part? She fervently hoped that her
brother was putting up an act.
The Ysalamiri was still blocking her - she could not feel whether he was
letting the Dark Side in, could not feel whether he was abandoning himself
to rage and fury. Never would she forgive herself if her twin succumbed once
again only because of her. She'd rather die than see this happen.
The petite woman had already opened her mouth when the blue of Luke's eyes
flickered to her, ever so shortly, perfectly timed with the irritated blink
of the Bothan's own eyes, and she calmed somewhat. He had something in mind.
It was more, she mused, than either she or Han had to offer.
"A wrong move, Skywalker, and she'll die."
The Jedi Master laughed coldly, "You'll kill her either way, so why should I
keep back?"
Fey'lya's eyes burned and didn't stand still as he withdrew a step, dragging
Leia with him. "You don't have the Force. She'll die before you get to me
because you're not fast enough."
Luke smiled, "Do you want to bet your life on it?"
A tense moment passed, a moment in which it looked as if Luke's game would
win them freedom. Fey'lya's fear was visible. He had not expected this. He
had not expected to see the man he had always considered mellow and weak and
reliant on mind tricks only so ruthless and willing to accept the ultimate
sacrifice for a single choice at ultimate victory.
However, insanity had peculiar ways to bestow cunning and an edge upon those
who suffered from it that was impossible to foresee for normal people.
Fey'lya grinned as he tightened his hold on the Princess, "Improvisation,"
he said and grinned wider, "Let's do a trade, Skywalker."
Luke's brows drew together while he made several more, careful steps. His
eyes held the Bothan's and he was rewarded - the alien mirrored his
movements to keep a distance, to keep him away. Soon, the Jedi was standing
between Fey'lya and Han. Leia groaned in relief and Borsk's grin weakened
for a mere second until he had stomached the partial defeat.
"Explain,"
"I let her live," he thumped the muzzle of his blaster against Leia's
temple. She winced but bit her lip. The situation was volatile. An obvious
exclamation of pain seemed enough to bring either of the two adversaries out
of balance. It would be a disaster either way.
The former farmboy cocked his head to the side, "Indeed? What do you want in
return?"
The Bothan leant forward, over Leia's shoulder, to focus better on the human
man before him, "You. You die, she lives." Fey'lya had understood that he
could not kill all of them. Han was positively out of his reach. He was
reasonably sure that Skywalker could not keep him from shooting the
Princess, but even if he did, Skywalker would kill him for sure. He had only
one reasonable alternative left, only one that would guarantee him
satisfaction of some sort.
The silence that had fallen was broken by the echoes of distant blaster fire
and the hum of a lightsaber. The Bothan knew he had to hurry. Should the
former Emperor's Hand gain the room, there would be neither escape nor
satisfaction for him.
"Decide now or I'll shot her on the spot."
*~~
Luke didn't hesitate for a second. He relaxed, abandoning the threatening
stance he had been poised in before, and nodded. He had confidence in Mara.
She would prevail against the mercenaries that were left and protect Han and
Leia when he no longer could. What he needed to do was win her time - win
his family time.
*~~
Borsk Fey'lya aimed and pulled the trigger. Hysterical laughter shook him as
both Han and Leia simultaneously shouted the Jedi's name.
----------------- To be Continued...