"Los Bilbilicos"
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Star Wars franchise.
A/N: This is an AU, Dark one-shot. Read at your own risk! By the away, "Los Bilbilicos" translates as "The Nightingales" in Spanish.
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The nightingale was singing. And the pipe that was hidden beneath a layer of floor was leaking, a slow drip-dripping sound that was oddly muted so that it sounded like rain on a roof.
Or perhaps it sounded like the tears a wounded heart would weep.
Both the bird and the falling water should have been annoying, but quite surprisingly, Darth Krayn, known once in life as the Jedi Luke Skywalker, found them soothing for the time being. It reminded him of the pain in his life; the memories brought about an emotional agony that allowed him to feed on his fury and Sith powers.
Drip… drip…
The nightingale paused in its singing, the echo of its song dissipating in the wind. Looking up from his work on his X-wing, Krayn felt a strong wind ruffle his hair. The dripping water continued on undisturbed.
Krayn's black-gloved hand clenched into a fist. He had learned to live with the pain ver the past few months; in fact, it had become his closest companion when everyone he had loved abandoned him. What a fool he had been to refuse Vader's promise of Galactic Rule those several years ago! But he had been young and naïve then, still closely tied to his friendships with Leia and Han. Still loyal to the Rebel Alliance, however misguided it had actually been.
When the nightingale's singing did not resume, he knew something was wrong. The little birds had been carefully trained, almost perfect at spy-work despite their being so helpless-looking. They had been a gift to his wife Mara before he had turned to the Sith ways, before she had also abandoned him.
His thoughts often turned to her, his own, his love in life; he had loved her once. In his mind's eye he saw her as she had always been, straight-backed and proud, her chin raised with defiance to the world, wearing a tight fatigue outfit, her deep red hair cascading down her back. She was and always would be a woman to be respected, a woman to be feared by lesser beings.
He stood up, all panther-like grace, beautiful and dangerous and unforgiving all at once, a man also to be respected and feared. After all, he was a Sith, and no one ever forgot that and lived. If the nightingale was silent that meant there were intruders on Coruscant.
Krayn stretched out through the Force and searched for anything out of place. All of the guards were still aware, and they did not seem fazed or confused.
But there was something, a slight ripple to the Force, a presence near that was very familiar. Diamond blue eyes, hardened from life, widened in surprise.
Leia!
He was not so caught off-guard that he allowed his surprise to carry through the Force—that would have alerted his twin sister that he knew she was there. Very softly he probed around her to see who else was with her and received vague hints of Han, a few more strangers, Lando Calrissian…
Mara.
It was not surprise that shot through him this time. No, this time it was simple disbelief. And anger. He knew from the elite group's focused, cold demeanor what they were here for— to kill him and bring down his Empire. He pulled fully away from them, his heart sinking, which surprised him. He cared for them no longer, but somehow their coming to kill him hurt.
Especially Mara. They had loved each other for so long, he had taught her to love, and now she was nothing but a cold-hearted assassin out to commit murder. And it made him furious; his normally blue eyes flashed a burning yellow, and he could feel Force lightning crackling at his fingertips, begging to be released. He gritted his teeth and told himself, Not yet. But he promised himself that he would make Mara pay, and pay dearly for her treachery.
Krayn took off at a swift run down the hallway of the hangar, his booted feet causing little sound on the obsidian tiles on the floor, vowing bloodshed. He reached out to Leia now, actively searching for his sister, wanting her to feel him.
"Going somewhere, sister?" he taunted her. He felt her recognition through the twin bond they shared, sensed her bitter disappointment with him. But he also got the general feeling of a plea. She was pleading with him to stop his evil and come with them.
In return he blasted her with his fury and disbelief at her ridiculous wish and was satisfied to feel her recoil. At the same instant he also realized where they were: the sub-basement where supplies were kept. Incredible! They had sneaked through the pipe-work that lay beneath the frame of the building!
He lifted his lightsaber from his belt. He would kill them all. He closed himself off from the Force so that they could not feel him coming. The sub-basement was a chilly place, full of boxes and leftover machinery that was now unusable and soon to be scrapped. There was no sound to be heard, but Leia and her strike team was somewhere here. As silent as a cat, he mounted some machinery that nearly reached the ceiling, giving him a vantage point. After a long moment of active searching, he spotted them all silently walking along, dressed in black clothing. He tensed when seeing Mara's lithe dancer's figure among them, recognizable even when dressed as a criminal. His grip on his lightsaber tightened as they passed beneath him.
Now! Quick as lightning he landed among them, turning on the 'saber's red blade and killing all three of the men he didn't recognize—
Right into a familiar green-bladed lightsaber that Leia held in a firm grip, her normally soft brown eyes hard with resolve. Alarmed, Han and Lando let out exclamations of alarm and did what came naturally to them—they began to pour blasterfire at him.
Nimble as a deer, Krayn leapt out of the way of them and batted the blaster bolts away with both his lightsaber and his hand. One well-placed shot hit Lando in the gut and with a cry of pain and surprise he fell to the ground.
Only a few moments had passed. Three of the strike team remained standing. Leia blanched at the pain Lando poured into the Force but Luke merely shut it out and drew pleasure from the thought he had caused someone pain. Han leapt out of range and struggled to find a good firing angle. Mara had disappeared.
He would worry about her later.
"Going to kill me, Leia?" he taunted his sister again, feeling a cruel smile slide across his face. "Not very Jedi-like of you."
As strong as tempered steel she did not rise to his bait and he felt no anger at his remark. "I will do what I must," she replied quietly, and she said no more, but she couldn't help the sadness in her Force presence. Their fight was bitter but short. A well-accomplished swordswoman herself, Leia gave no ground, and for a time held her own against him. But Han, still there, shot at him from behind. Krayn, instead of swerving, caught the bolt on his blade and like Lando, Han fell to the ground with a cry, hit with his own blasterfire.
Leia poured dismay into the Force. "Han!" Her distress was not enough that she lowered her lightsaber, but she did glance over his way.
Up flashed Krayn's lightsaber. Fast as lightning he severed her wrist and before she could even scream in pain, he followed it up with a vertical slash above the shoulders—
-and Leia's head tumbled to the ground, the mouth open in an eternal scream, her eyes dull and without life. Her presence in his mind vanished, and the twin bond between them dissolved as if it had never been.
Lando had passed out and Han was injured. Krayn turned swiftly and combed the Force for his wife. He couldn't find her. What the kriff-? He expanded his awareness to a wider span and found her two floors up, her attention cold and focused. What was she doing? Krayn set off at a run to answer that very question, leaving the bodies behind. He'd deal with them later.
He found her by a computer terminal, wiring a bomb into its machinery so that if used it would kill him. Glaring, feeling his fury rising, he raised his lightsaber and prepared to take her by surprise.
Her finely-tuned danger sense, however, had not lacked at all over the years, and before he had even finished raising his weapon, Mara was spinning around with her small Blastech blaster pointed at him, her emerald-green eyes cold and icy with a killer's resolve.
"One more move, Skywalker," she snapped, "and you'll find you'll be casting a spotted shadow." Her Force presence was steady and her words utterly serious.
Krayn slowly lowered his lightsaber. "And I thought I told you before," he retorted, "that it's 'Krayn', not 'Skywalker' anymore."
Mara shook her head so that her red hair fell down her shoulders, as beautiful as ever. "I don't buy that bantha poodoo that you're feeding the galaxy, Skywalker," she said coldly. "You may think that you're doing us a big favor, but all you've become is another Palpatine. No Sith ever did anyone any good."
"Things change."
She took a deep breath, and her façade slipped for an instant, and he saw just how much this was hurting her. "What happened to you, Luke?" she asked quietly, and her voice had significantly softened. "What happened to the man who taught me the good in life? Where is the man I married?"
She knew the answer to that. She still loved him. It hurt to see him now, in all his Sith splendor. She could remember Luke Skywalker had been a forgiving man, a gentle spirit with a capacity for compassion that she had never seen before. Now, he was a cruel parody of the man he had been. The eyes she stared into were still her Luke's eyes, the same shape and color, but they were older and crueler now, his face harsher, not so expressive.
Yes, she still loved him. She loved the memory of the Luke Skywalker that Darth Krayn had murdered and risen from, like a phoenix would rise from the ashes.
Ironic, that "Krayn" in Basic meant "phoenix".
He did not answer her questions. "I tire of your games, Mara, my love. I will tell you now, and only once: You have seen Leia's and Han's fates. Your Rebellion will fall. Join me now, and I may spare our son's life."
The horror that flashed through her Force aura showed that she had been frightened by his mentioning of their son. She had never told him she had been pregnant; perhaps she had hoped that he would never know. But quickly the fear turned to a burning anger. "I'd rather die first!" she snarled, and fired the pistol twice.
One bolt missed him by a hair; the other ricocheted off his hand. Almost instinctively, he raised a hand like he was clutching something, and Mara's body froze.
Krayn watched her struggle against his hold. He genuinely regretted that he would have to kill her, but she was the last remaining relic of Luke Skywalker's life, and she would also teach their son about the Light side of the Force. Krayn would not permit that.
Just as he was about to finish the job, the singing of the nightingale resumed.
"Listen, Mara," he murmured quietly. "It sings its blessing to you for the next life."
He twisted his hand and the sound of her neck snapping echoed grotesquely in the wide space of the room. She crumpled to the floor, dead, her emerald eyes open and unseeing, beautiful even in death.
Krayn stepped over to her and sighed. "I am sorry, my love," he said quietly, putting his lightsaber back on his belt, "but the nightingale is singing, and I have work to do."
As he left the room to order some guards to pick up the bodies and take Han and Lando to interrogation, he heard, somehow, the slow, drip-dripping of the leaking pipe, even from all the way over here, mingled with the nightingale's haunting song.
He had planning to commence. He would crush the Rebellion once and for all, he would find his hidden son and raise him to be his Sith apprentice.
And the slow, steady beat of the dripping water would continue, shedding the tears he never would, its sound a damning yet liberating sound that inspired a freedom he would later spend the rest of his life trying to throw off.
After all, the nightingale was singing.
