AN: Thanks as always for the reviews! Again, sorry for the long gap between updates. I got a new job and participated in NaNoWriMo and I've been generally busy.
"Defenders of the Force Episode 6: The Fading Spirit"
By EsmeAmelia
Chapter 2
"Where are we?"
"We're still in your mind, Han," said Rya.
"Well yeah," said Han, "but where are we?"
The ghost shrugged. "Where do you think this is?"
Han rolled his eyes. "I don't know, that's why I'm askin' you."
"Well, take a look around."
Han did as he was told. They were in someone's living room and it had the basic living room necessities: two couches, a stone fireplace, a holovid, some shelves lining the walls, various children's drawings decorating the mantle, but there was a smell in the air: a familiar spicy smell that almost made Han feel like he had been here before.
Then he saw it.
On the caf table sat an infant seat with a baby in it. He had a head of downy brown hair and was wearing a fluffy green sleeper with a picture of a Jedi Fighter on it. He was fingering with a teething ring and cooing to himself like any other baby would do, but for some reason Han found himself unable to look away from him.
"Han!"
Han's heart jumped as his head reflexively looked up. In ran a seven-year-old boy whom Han had previously seen as a ghost, but here he was alive, immature, carefree.
His older brother, Ky Solo.
"Hey Han!" the boy squealed, running up to the baby and leaning in close to him. "You look busy," he said in a high, singsong voice. "Is that ring keepin' you busy? Huh? Huh?"
The adult Han stumbled backward into the wall, his breath coming out in pants.
"Boys!" came another voice, a low female voice, and in came the woman Han had traveled here with, only now she had no blue light surrounding her and her body had actual substance. Her hair was tied up in a bun out of which several stray strands hung.
"Hey Mom," said Ky, "I think Han's gonna talk soon."
"Oh really?" said the living Rya, bending over and picking up the baby. "What makes you say that?"
"He's makin' lots of sounds," said Ky. "I think he even tried to say my name." He patted his brother's side. "Can you say 'Ky,' Han? Can you? Can you?"
The baby made a high sound in response, which Ky translated as another attempt to say his name.
Meanwhile the adult Han was trembling, gripping an end table for support. "Wh-why did you bring me here?" he gasped.
The ghost Rya was staring out at the figures of the past, barely turning her head to look at her adult son. "Truth be told, I didn't know what memory your mind would bring us to first."
"Memory?" Han exclaimed. "I sure as hell don't remember this!"
"Your conscious mind doesn't, but your subconscious holds many more memories than your conscious mind can." She went back to gazing out at the living version of herself with her sons. "My boys . . ."
Han swallowed. "So . . . how're Ky and Dad doin'?"
"They're fine," said Rya, not taking her eyes off the memory. "Well, as fine as you can be in our . . . condition."
Han looked back at his brother, realizing that this had to have been soon before the boy died. He had appeared around the same age as this when Han saw his ghost.
"Ky . . . he ain't gonna grow up . . . ever," he found himself saying. He shifted his focus back to his ghost mother. "Is he?"
Now Rya seemed unable to look away from her children and the living version of herself. "Well, right now we're all just trying to get used to . . . everything, since you guys saved us from the netherworld. As for Ky growing up, well, his childhood was cut short anyway."
"Yeah, but stayin' a kid forever . . ."
"We're not here to talk about that," Rya said quickly, sharply cutting him off.
Han swallowed again, looking once more at his brother - his older brother trapped in an eternal childhood, playing with his baby brother, completely oblivious to the fate that awaited him.
"So . . ." he said carefully, "what are we doin' here?"
Rya looked at her living son in complete seriousness. "You're dying, but not in an ordinary way. The invaders are eating away at you, body and soul, so you need to fight back."
"And . . . how'm I s'posed to do that?"
Rya looked out again at the happy family. "You need to fight with your very being, and for that, you need strength." She put her formless hand on her son's shoulder. "Maybe your mind thinks you'll gain strength from seeing this."
"Why?" Han exclaimed. "What's this gotta do with me bein' able to fight whatever it is?"
"Well, why don't you look? Take a good, long look."
Han wanted to protest some more, but for some reason he found himself unable to do so. He did has his mother instructed and looked back at the long-forgotten time. Rya was bouncing her baby in her arms, alternately humming and singing lyrics that sounded like she was making them up on the spot.
"My little Han is so special," she sang, "my little Han is so nice, I love him so much I'll kiss him twice!" With that, she kissed the baby's head twice and Ky giggled, playing with the baby's toes.
The adult Han gulped, his eyes unblinking. "This . . ." he whispered. ". . . I lost this."
The ghost Rya nodded slowly.
Han's breath was growing shallow, his eyes growing damp. This, the family he never knew until recently, whom he still didn't know very well . . . what could have been if they had lived? Would he have never become a smuggler, never fought in the Rebellion?
Would he have never met Leia?
Suddenly Han's head was spinning. He collapsed against the wall, sinking to the floor, closing his eyes, though his mother's singing followed him into his head.
The warm air of his mother's ghost hand brushed his face, but he didn't open his eyes. "Sweetheart," Rya murmured, "it's all right."
"No," said Han. "It's not all right. You guys died a horrible death and that's terrible, but it just occurred to me that if you didn't . . . I might not've met my wife. Yeah . . . that sounds awful, doesn't it."
The warm air stroked his cheek, causing him to slowly open his eyes. "Han . . . I understand," Rya said in a slow voice. "This is the life you never had, but the life you do have is precious to you."
"I want to leave," Han said, struggling to make his voice firm. "Take us to another memory or whatever, just get us outta here."
Rya gazed one last time at her living self with her two sons, then she looked back at Han and nodded. "All right. But remember, I can't control where your mind takes us. I can only guide you."
"I don't care," said Han, "just get me outta here."
Rya nodded again. "All right, come on." With that, she took her son's hand and they were gone.
. . .
"Are you sure you sensed him here?" Ahsoka asked as she and Uma entered one of Coruscant's many seedy clubs.
"We don't know it's a him," said Uma, her eyes darting around the club's patrons. Strippers of various species were dancing on the tables. Several customers were placing bets at the sabacc table with slurred speech. The music playing over the speakers seemed to be racing around the room.
Ahsoka breathed deeply, remembering the many clubs and taverns she and her master had visited on missions. It seemed like people always hid in places like this after committing heinous acts. "Okay, are you sure you sense him or her here?"
"Yes," said Uma. "Now be quiet."
Ahsoka bit her lip in order to refrain from saying something sarcastic about being ordered around by someone younger than herself. Whatever their age difference, the fact remained that Uma was a master and Ahsoka never even became a knight.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, taking in the smell of alcohol and smoke, feeling around for that Force signature among the many patrons.
"There," Uma said suddenly, pointing the direction of the bar.
"Are you sure?"
"You really didn't finish your training, did you?" said Uma, slightly rolling her eyes.
"Maybe not," said Ahsoka, "but I certainly chased my share of fugitives into seedy clubs in my time."
"Then I guess you're enjoying being out in the field again," said Uma. "Anyway, let's go."
The two Jedi slowly made their way closer and closer to the bar, trying not to call attention to themselves. By the time they passed the sabacc table, Ahsoka could feel the little bastard's Force signature, but she still couldn't tell exactly where he was.
"The Jedi can't last too much longer," someone at the bar said with a rough male voice, catching Ahsoka's interest.
"Nope," said another voice, this one deep and female, "Master Skywalker can only hold on for so long. Even an ancient Jedi padawan can't help him."
"Ancient?" Ahsoka exclaimed in a whisper.
By now they were close enough to see that the female voice was coming from a Twi'lek who was leaning against the bar, but Ahsoka still couldn't tell who the male voice was.
"But whatever," said the male voice, "all I know is that if I had kids in that Academy, I'd have pulled them out a long time ago."
Ahsoka ground her teeth as she and Uma inched closer. She reached out with the Force, feeling again for Han's attacker.
"I don't think Master Skywalker can handle it," the male voice continued. "But you know, because his daughter's a student now, he wants to look tough for her sake."
"Which just might get her killed," said the female voice. "Along with all his other students."
"Ahsoka!" Uma's sudden whisper drew Ahsoka out of her eavesdropping.
"What?" the former padawan whispered back.
"I think I found our culprit."
. . .
Leia squeezed her husband's hand as she breathed in and out, in and out, concentrating on his Force signature, which felt like straining to reach something in the distance. She rubbed his fingers one at a time, pressing on his callouses as if that would call him back.
"Han," she whispered, "stay with me."
The heart monitor kept beeping, beeping, beeping. Doctors kept checking on Han, but they always said his condition was unchanged. The children were alternately pacing and staring down at Han, while Chewie hadn't gotten up from his seat next to the bed. Luke and Rianna had been calling various people at the Jedi Temple, frantically asking if there was any known cure for whatever had killed the midichlorian test subjects, but no one had any answers.
Leia leaned over and kissed Han's forehead, tasting the salty sweat it was drenched in, remembering the stories of a lover's kiss magically waking the dead. Maybe there was a point in her early childhood when she believed such stories were true, that a true love's kiss really did have magical powers stronger than death itself.
If only she could believe it now. For a moment she wished the stories were true and Han would awaken now, but she could only allow herself that fantasy for a tiny second. This was the real world, where no magic kiss would wake Han.
"The results are in."
All heads turned up at the doctor entering the room. Her blue face was stretched out in worry as she gazed at the family for several moments.
"Well?" asked Leia.
The doctor took a deep breath. "There's . . . an abnormality in his blood."
"Is it midichlorians?" Luke immediately asked.
The doctor inhaled deeply again, her eyes darting among the family members before settling on Leia. "It might be, but if it is, they aren't neatly embedded in his cells like they are with Force-sensitives." She stared unblinking at Leia. "For his body, it's an invasion, like a germ." She swallowed. "His body is fighting . . . but it's losing."
