AN: Thanks again to everyone who's following this series. I still own nothing except my OCs.

"Defenders of the Force Episode 6: The Fading Spirit"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 1

"Dad . . . Dad . . . come on Dad . . . you can do it . . . wake up . . ."

Han's head was pounding. His daughter's voice sounded like it was calling to him from the top of a hill. His eyelids felt glued shut, trapping him in swirling darkness.

"It's all right, Dad," Jaina's voice continued. "Mom called the doctor and a medical transport should be here in a few minutes."

Doctor . . . medical transport . . . his lungs seemed to tighten at the thought. The hard, cold floor pressed against his back and neck.

"Han?" There was Leia's voice, stripped of its authority and toughness, stimulating Han's breath to deepen.

"Han, are you awake?"

"Llllll . . ."

Now her soft hand was rubbing his cheek. "You're going to be all right, Han."

"Lllll . . ." Why wasn't his mouth letting him speak? Why couldn't his eyes open? What had taken his body prisoner?

"I'm here Han," Leia continued, her voice becoming more desperate. "I've got you. You'll be fine."

Han focused his entire being on saying her name, letting her know that he could hear her, but once again he couldn't get past the first letter.

"It's okay," Leia whispered, her thumb rubbing his forehead, pressing against his skull. "It's okay, you'll be fine . . ."

And he heard nothing more.

. . .

Leia stared down at the hospital bed where her husband lay, tubes in his arms and up his nose, a heart monitor steadily beeping, Jacen's old toy bantha resting by his shoulder. She watched his eyes for any sign of movement, any hint of waking up, but they remained still.

Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin stood on the other side of the bed, Jaina rubbing her father's hand and Jacen sitting the bantha back up whenever it slouched over. Anakin merely stared down at his father as if trying to reach out to him.

Why did any of them ever trust that droid? Leia bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. Why did any of them ever trust that droid when it was clearly malfunctioning and Han obviously wasn't all right? Maybe if they had gone to a different medcenter in the first place, they would have been able to stop whatever it was before this happened.

"We came as soon as we heard."

Leia heard her brother's voice and sensed all the Skywalkers' Force signatures, but she didn't look away from her husband.

"How is he?" Rianna asked.

Leia gritted her teeth. "Well look at him. How do you think he is?"

Before she could continue, Chewie rushed into the room and ran up to the hospital bed. The instant he saw Han he let out a wail that needed no translation.

"I'm sorry, Chewie," said Luke, patting the Wookiee's back.

That drove Leia to shoot a glare at her brother. "You're sorry? Is that all you can say? Why don't you explain how your droid said Han was perfectly healthy?" She gestured down at her husband. "Does this look perfectly healthy to you?"

Luke gulped as he looked down at his brother-in-law. "I don't know why the droid said that, I really don't." He put his real hand on his sister's shoulder. "Did the doctors figure out what's wrong with him?"

"The results of his blood test haven't come in yet," said Leia. She swallowed, reaching up to grasp her brother's hand. "As of right now, they're stumped."

"I bet this has something to do with my blood," said Owen.

The others all looked at him with eyebrows raised. "Your blood?" asked Rianna.

"Yeah," said Owen. "They took my blood when they kidnapped me."

"What?" Luke, Leia, and Rianna all exclaimed at once.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Luke.

Owen gulped, his eyes widening like a child in trouble for something he didn't know was wrong. "I told you they stuck needles in me." He shuddered, his eyes lowering. "I didn't wanna talk more about it."

Luke stared down at Han's motionless body. "Oh no," he murmured, his breath growing short. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"What?" asked Mae.

Luke took a deep breath. "Master Yoda once told me that long ago, soon after midichlorians were discovered, a Jedi thought he could transfer Force-sensitivity to others. He found some non-Force-sensitive volunteers and injected them with his blood, thinking that if he could spread the Force around, there could be more Jedi to protect the galaxy." He swallowed. "But the experiment didn't work."

"What happened?" asked Jaina.

Luke took another deep breath. "The test subjects' bodies rejected the transferred midichlorians. Every single one of them died."

. . .

Ahsoka's eyes shifted around as she drove her speeder through the busy skies of Coruscant. The Force signature she had sensed in the vent was still on the planet, she was sure of it. Why the little bastard hadn't immediately left Coruscant after shooting Han, she didn't know, but whatever the reason, he or she was still here.

"Where are you?" Ahsoka whispered, reaching out with the Force, concentrating on the faint Force signature buried in the sea of other beings. The chilly wind blew through her headstalks and the other speeders were blaring, but she forced herself to ignore it. "Where are you?" she repeated.

Thousands of Force signatures moved this way and that, making Ahsoka dizzy. She blinked hard, reminding herself to pay attention to the traffic. "Where are you?" she whispered yet again.

"Hey, you need a little help?"

Ahsoka stole a quick glance to the side and there was Master Uma driving in the adjacent speeder skyway. "No," the former padawan said quickly, "I don't need help."

"Really?" said Uma. "I beg to differ, given that you never actually finished your Jedi training."

"I've been trained enough to find our little fugitive."

"Maybe," said Uma, "but General Solo is fading fast. If we work together, we just might be able to get that fugitive to give us an antidote before Solo dies."

Ahsoka took a deep breath, sensing hostility coming from Uma but at the same time knowing she was right. "Okay," she said, "just don't get in the way."

. . .

Han didn't know where he was, but he knew he was exhausted. His eyes were sealed shut, his center of consciousness pulling him to sleep. Whatever he was lying in, it was soft, warm, easy to sink into and just drift off . . .

"Han?"

The voice was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He didn't automatically recognize it, but it pulled at him, as if it lurked somewhere deep in his subconscious. Maybe he would dream about it when he went to sleep . . .

"Han?"

No, whatever the voice wanted could wait . . . right now he needed sleep . . . sleep . . .

"Han, you need to wake up."

The sudden urgency in the voice jolted memories into his head. Sitting on the bed, the airy warmth of a ghost sitting beside him - with that thought his eyes popped open to blackness penetrated only by a transparent woman surrounded by blue light.

"Mom?" he whispered.

Rya Solo was staring down at her son, her eyes full of worry, which stimulated another memory of collapsing on the balcony of his apartment. Immediately it felt like his soul was tipping over the edge of a chasm. His arms wrapped around his chest and his knees bent inwards as if he were trying to cocoon himself from the suddenly-cold air.

"I'm . . . I'm dead, aren't I?" he gasped out.

Rya leaned over to gently touch her son's cheek. "No, not yet, but your body is struggling to stay alive."

"Wait, what?" Han exclaimed. "My body's . . . what the hell . . . where are we?"

"You are inside your mind," said Rya.

Han took a deep breath - or at least it felt like he was taking a deep breath. "So . . . I'm dreamin'?"

"In a way," said Rya. "Your body's unconscious, but it's fighting the invading species."

"What? What invading species? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Rya stroked her son's head. "Come with me."

As the implications of that phrase hit Han, he immediately flinched away from his mother. "If I ain't already dead, I sure as hell ain't gonna go with you."

"You'll come with me if you want to live," Rya said in a voice that was almost scolding. Han wondered if she would have sounded like this when he misbehaved if she had lived. "You're slowly dying as we speak." She held out her hand. "Come on."

Han found himself shivering. "H-how do I know you ain't here to fetch me for the dead?"

"I'm your mother," Rya said, sounding slightly offended.

"Yeah, well maybe you want both your kids with you."

Rya gave a slight sigh. "Sweetheart, you have a family who loves you and a life to return to." She spread her fingers out in a welcoming gesture. "You have to trust me here."

Han stared at his mother's hand for several moments, the chills of wherever this was biting into his skin. Leia, Chewie, his children, the Skywalkers . . . they needed him to live, but this was a gamble. A gamble that meant trusting his life to a woman he hardly knew, even if she was his mother.

"Han," Rya said in pleading voice, "trust me."

Han breathed in, letting the cold air fill whatever passed for his lungs when he was dreaming.

And he took her hand.