Chapter 11

The giant scrapyard had only grown over the past hundred years. Located on the fringes of Glabra, it contained old spaceships, land speeders, obsolete and deactivated droids, even entire building frames. The durasteel scrap from the core worlds stretched from horizon to horizon, composing an area far larger than the city or the factory for which it was destined.

This was the raw material used in durasteel production. Almost no new durasteel was produced anymore... nearly all was reclaimed from ancient hulks like these. It was melted in furnaces and purified, strengthened, and finally molded into whatever shape a particular customer wished. It was far cheaper to recycle in this way than it was to mine the raw materials necessary to create durasteel from scratch, and the galaxy never seemed to run out of junk.

It also was the perfect place to train. There were Glabrans who lived their entire lives without visiting the scraplands once. The entire process was automated, from the delivery ships that dropped the scrap off to the shuttle that automatically selected proper sizes and concentrations of scrap for what was being produced that day. Except for a few remote security droids, the place was completely deserted.

Del had taken on work as a cargo pilot, operating from Aesculus' small moon, delivering ore mined from its depths to the durasteel factories. Even though the raw material used in production was entirely recycled, the fuel used to heat the furnaces that melted it still needed to be supplied. Fortunately, the moon was almost entirely made up of this ore, which is why durasteel production had taken hold on Aesculus. He made twice daily runs in the ancient ships, one of the few jobs that had not yet been automated, thanks to the moon's always changing gravitational field. During these runs, he couldn't help but notice the scraplands on his approach to Glabra, and thought it would make an excellent place to hone his saber skills away from the prying eyes of the general population.

And now he sprinted through the massive valleys created by the ancient piles, feeling the force flow through him. Without thinking he leaped, propelling himself toward the sheer wall of one pile, coiling and rebounding off of it, flying through the air to the top of another. He landed hard and ran along the summit, the spine of some ancient freighter. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes, trusting the force. At the end of the small spine, he leaped again, flying effortlessly toward another summit, rebounding off of that, tucking into a ball and rolling as he hit the ground below.

Igniting his saber he continued to move, swinging it left and right, severing ancient trusses and the base of two adjoining piles. He felt rather than heard the scrap move, leaping straight up at the last possible instant to avoid the falling durasteel, rebounding off of a moving beam in the air, doing a backflip and landing unscathed on the other side, as the two massive piles fell into each other.

The force was with him. He felt it in his fingertips. He felt it in his soul. It poured through him like something ancient and starved, hungering for contact with the physical world, He wielded it at his will, and allowed it to direct him to its will. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, even as he covered acres in mere seconds, reshaped this small corner of the scraplands with his will and his blade.

He tucked his weapon into his belt as he leapt again, not sure even as he was doing it what he was jumping towards. At the peak of his jump, he reached out with the force and pulled a large slab of steel from a nearby pile and sent it hurtling toward his path. He bounded off of it and flew into the air again, vaguely aware of it clattering on the ground behind him as he sailed toward the peak of yet another pile. Igniting his saber just before he landed, he drove it deep into the metal at the peak, feeling the pile start to move beneath him. Trusting the force, he adjusted the blade slightly, allowing the pile to crumble at just the right angle, surfing the small slab he was on to the bottom.

He knelt there, breathing hard, every nerve alive, reaching, feeling the world around him pulse and flow.

The force was with him.

Calm. Peace.

He centered his thoughts, trying not to dwell on the nearly overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside him. But it was difficult. He had come here to forget about her, to let the force wash him and purify him. And he felt it, stronger now than ever. The reshaped scraplands bore witness to its potency. Yet it was not anger that drove him, it was not bitterness and fear that controlled him. He was very conscious of the darkness that flickered on the edges of this path he had chosen. Falling into it was a temptation, but only as a way to give meaning to his despair, and he knew the deception that lay along that path. The power that he felt was the power of the light, perhaps not as pure as the Jedi would have it, but strength nonetheless.

He was very close to something, and as always he felt the frustration at not being able to put the puzzle together. Yet the answers he sought were not entirely hidden, as the strength he felt had a familiar signature. Yet he did not understand how it could be, that the unique force presences that he had come to know and love in this place would be with him still. He felt his family's strength and love flowing through him, even though none were force sensitive. And what is more…

Her.

He tried to deny it, tried to move past it but there was no question. She was with him still. She moved in his veins, pounded in his heart, and filled his vision, even now. Her warmth, her sweet understanding and everything about her that was not of the physical world resonated in him. She was in the very air that filled his lungs, burning him, marking him as her own, even now. What is more, the connection gave him strength. It amplified and resonated with the force. It soothed him and energized him, allowed him peace and fury, all at the same time. How this was possible he did not know…

Maybe there were some marks on the soul that not even the force could wash away…

Or maybe they were marks that the force recognized as its own..

He opened his eyes, looking around. He sucked in a breath, feeling instead of the soothing burn an icy frost.

Cold.

Fear.

Something was wrong. He fought for calm as the ice gripped his heart. Before he even knew it he began running, a cold dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what he was running toward, until he saw the shuttle lifting off and departing with a load of scrap toward Glabra. As soon as he saw it he knew he had to be on it. Leaping into the air, he landed on the wing of one, just as it cut out its repulsorlifts and surged forward on the power of its ion engines. He flattened himself against the body of the massive transport as it slowly built up speed. As he grew closer to town, the feeling of cold dread grew stronger, until he saw a column of thick black smoke rising from what appeared to be an area close to the plant entrance. As the shuttle slowed, he got a birds eye view of the destruction in that area, trying to put together in his head what had happened. There was a massive crater at least 50 feet in diameter right at the plant entrance. Inside the crater was pure molten slag, still steaming and bubbling from the explosion that created it. Outside the crater things seemed undamaged. Several emergency crews were on the scene.

Del leaped down from the shuttle, landing and quickly running over, searching for a law enforcement officer. Instead, he spotted a familiar face.

"Dad!"

Anto spun at his son's call, stepping away from the edge of the crater.

"Del! What are you doing here? Although I guess I'm not too surprised."

"Something felt wrong. Feels wrong still. What happened here?"

"I don't know. This is the service entrance. Supposedly we were getting a shipment of parts in today from Quippa Major for the caster. I talked to my inventory chief this morning; he said the shipment would arrive around 1 PM. So I made my way down here. You know how I like to make sure we have the proper equipment."

Del nodded, growing impatient. The cold dread in his gut was not going away.

"Anyway, these three cargo gliders pull up to the gate, but something goes wrong. The scanners must have picked up whatever they were using for explosives. Thank God it was able to get the containment field down in time. Trapped all the energy inside. Made one hell of a deep crater, but nobody got hurt."

"Dad, this is very important. Did you see a transport driving off after the explosion? Something that maybe didn't look like it quite belonged down here?"

Anto looked puzzled. "How did you know that?"

"SOP during an attack like this. The cargo ships would have been automated, but they would have feet on the ground to make sure things went according to plan. And they would have a backup plan in case things didn't."

"Which way did it go Dad? And what did it look like?"

"It was a skiff type transport. But they went south along Industry Drive here son. They can't escape that way. That just takes them into town…."

"They don't plan to escape. There are a lot of targets down that way. They could be heading for Municipal Center or the power grid or…"

He felt his blood run cold.

'... the school."

Del cursed his foolishness, suddenly understanding the cold dread he had been feeling in the force. Like a shot, he took off down the street, so fast that Anto barely had time to register where his son was going, before giving chase himself.

***

Del rounded the corner, seeing a massive crowd of students gathered outside the school. Teachers were herding their students together, counting heads, making sure everybody was accounted for. Some of the students were crying, others trying to comfort those who were upset.

Del didn't even bother to look for Bella. He knew she wasn't there. She was close, he felt, angry and very scared, but alive.

He nearly sprinted headlong into the front entrance, but thought the better of it. He stopped in front of what looked like a sergeant in the Domestic Militia, a handful of whom had gathered and were trying to organize the students.

"What is the situation?"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

Del ignored that. "Do you have any idea how many are inside?"

"Sir, all we have is a report of a disturbance in the building. We are trying to determine if all the students and staff are accounted for…"

"They aren't."

"How do you know that?"

"I know."

"Well, if that is the case, our negotiation team will be here shortly and I'm certain the situation can be resolved with…"

"It can't."

The sergeant looked startled. "Excuse me?"

"I need to get inside."

"Are you crazy? My orders are to clear this area. I'm not going to let you anywhere near that building."

Del stepped forward, bringing all his attention to the young officer.

"What is your name, sergeant?"

For the first time he looked a bit unsure of himself. "Officer Brinkman."

"My name is Del. Do you know me?"

He hesitated for a second. Finally, he sighed "I know who you are."

"Okay. Good. Here's the deal."

"The people that tried to blow up the durasteel plant a few minutes ago are the same ones that are in that school now. They have a number of students and at least one teacher hostage."

"H-how do you know…"

"I know."

"Listen to me. They aren't here to barter. They aren't here to negotiate. Their entire plan rests on only one thing: The local authorities will not be able to mount an effective response in the time it takes them to murder their hostages."

"They hate the Republic. They think they are strengthening the separatist movement. They are here to die, and take as many innocents as they can with them."

"I can stop them."

"Let me through."

Brinkman was ash faced, and for a moment Del considered that he would have to disable him. But he moved aside and nodded, and Del was inside the deserted school grounds an instant later.

Kneeling next to a corner of the building, he closed his eyes and reached out with the force. It was not difficult to ascertain a tactical overview of the situation, as emotions were running high. He felt the fear from around a dozen student hostages, as well as their confusion. Their captors were also fearful, but their fear was mixed with something darker. None had any illusions about what they were preparing to do. If any harbored doubts, their misgivings were currently buried under a flurry of activity.

He forced himself to concentrate. Bella was a shining beacon in the force to him, and if he allowed it, she would drown out everything else going on around her. The intensity of her emotions made the situation fluid, he wasn't sure if what he was sensing was distorted by his connection with her. She was badly frightened, for herself to be sure, but moreso for her students. She had always been fiercely protective of them, taking pride in their accomplishments and demanding just as much from them as she would if they had no learning disabilities. Their success was her success, and now he could feel her frustration at having them threatened in any way.

Her fear set his senses on edge. It was amplified by his fear for her.

Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it quickly. The force sang that in him, down to his very bones.

Fleetingly, he wondered if this was a dangerous path.

Fear leads to suffering. Suffering leads to…

He decided he didn't care.

Crossing the courtyard was out of the question. The hostages were concentrated in a room on the far side. Stealth was what he needed. Looking up, he noted the roof would enable him to cross the courtyard area by way of the building surrounding it. Force leaping upwards, he landed softly and began making his way quickly toward the auditorium area. As he got closer, he began to sense the hostages were in two separate rooms. He also sensed a gradual spike in the anxiety level of the separatists. Whatever was going to happen would happen soon.

He soon reached a ventilation duct near the area he was looking for. Silently, he removed the cover, and used the force to short out the magnetic fields used to circulate the air. Sliding into the ventilation shaft, he crept his way quickly but silently to a grate overlooking a classroom.

The students were huddled in a circular pattern below him, crying and grasping each other for comfort. He could see no separatists, but reaching out with the force he sensed them wiring explosives together, almost directly below him.

Now, the force sang, and he immediately pulled his light saber, igniting it and slicing through the thin metal of the air duct. Crashing through, he fell directly toward two very large men who looked up far too late to do them any good. Tucking his saber away, he angled his body, landing blows with his fist and his foot on each man's skull. Neither had an opportunity to cry out before hitting the floor in a heap.

Kneeling, he examined the men's handiwork. There were three similar sized explosive blocks placed throughout the room, probably containing photon charges. Three boxes of that size would take out a good portion of this city block.

Concentrating, he placed his hand on one of the boxes, sending small force waves along the wires connecting the boxes. He had never done this before, never trained it – in fact he had never heard of it being attempted. It didn't matter. He knew he could do it, and what is more, he knew it was the only way it could be done without triggering anti-tampering nanites that would detonate the package and send them all sky high. Moving his hand softly over the box, he closed his eyes, picturing the mechanism in his eye, seeing the firing charge, moving it slowly in each box, so that it faced 90 degrees from its intended alignment. He then triggered it, noting with satisfaction as each group of explosives was rendered inert by its firing mechanism expending itself into the casing instead of the explosive.

Blinking, he looked up, noting that the students we're looking at him with a mixture of horror and curiosity. Standing, he smiled and moved toward them.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here to help."

One girl, who looked to be about twelve, stood up and cautiously moved her way toward him, She wiped tears from her eyes, looking at her classmates. Finally, she looked at the men piled near the explosive casing.

"D – Did you kill them?"

"No. They just got a solid knock to the head. They will wake up in a few hours."

"Are any of you hurt?"

"No. But they took Ms. Gallos!"

"Do you know where?"

The girl looked worried, crossing her arms in front of her and hugging herself. "No. Not far, I don't think. She fought them, when she saw what they were doing. The bad man got angry. Hit her and dragged her away."

Anger, raw and unbound, welled up in Del's stomach. He didn't try to fight it.

"Are they going to kill her, Mister?"

He looked at the young girl, who was staring at him with huge eyes. "No. No they aren't. I promise."

"What is your name?"

The girl sniffed and cast her eyes downward. "Angela." Her voice was barely a whisper.

He placed a strong hand on Angela's shoulder. "You are very brave, Angela. I promise this will all be over soon. There is something I need you to do for me."

The girl looked unsure of herself. "Me?"

"Yes, Angela, you. I need you to lead your friends across the quad to the other side. Run as fast as you can, but make sure nobody gets left behind. There are militia officers on the other side that will take care of you. Can you do that?"

She looked at him curiously. "Are you going to save Ms. Gallos?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, Angela, that is exactly what I am going to do."

She nodded, determined. "Then I will do as you ask."

"Thank you."

Angela turned to her classmates and motioned for them to get up. "C'mon!"

Del led them over to the door, opening it and stretching out with the force. He sensed nothing between them and the other side.

He turned to his new friend. "Ok, Angela. Count to ten and then go. Don't look back, don't stop. No matter what."

"Ok." She turned to her classmates and nodded.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

Del moved quickly to the other side of the room. Angela was counting silently to herself, and Del was about to jump back up to the overhead vent when something caught his eye. He stooped low and picked it up.

Damn.

It was Bella's necklace. A simple rope chain threaded through a small bracket holding a faceted crystal. Del had recognized it as the same sort of crystal used in lightsaber construction, although far smaller. It was a family heirloom, and in the time he had known her he had never seen her without it.

He gripped the crystal in his hand and slid it into his pocket.

He was not sure what it was about the crystal, but it had a soothing affect on him. Concentrating, feeling the force flow, he leaped into the hole he had just made in the ventilation shaft. He quickly began moving along the maze of ducts, feeling her in the force and letting it guide him. Finally coming to the main auditorium, he found a grate stationed just above an elevated catwalk above the main stage.

There.

She was unhurt, it seemed. The seperatists had her seated on the floor of the stage, next to what appeared to be a portable control panel. Probably what they were going to use to detonate the packages the other two were setting up, he thought. They had used binders to fasten her wrists behind her. One was reading data off of the panel, while a second patrolled the catwalk, opposite of where he was. The third was talking to Bella, or rather she was talking to him. Cursing at him, actually. He smiled to himself, feeling a rush of pride.

Again the force sang to him, Now. He immediately removed the grate and slipped silently down to the catwalk. None of the three gave an indication that they noticed him, and a moment later the one manning the computer terminal gave a cry of alarm.

"Depa, look!"

The one that had been talking to Bella glanced over at the control panel, as did she. He felt her hope surge.

"How did they get out?" Depa was obviously agitated, and Del guessed that they had hacked into the school's security system, finding a view of the children arriving at the far side of the quad.

"Blow the charges…. NOW!"

Immediately he leaped over the edge of the catwalk, landing directly in front of the two. He drew himself up to his full height as the blasters of the computer operator and the guard on the catwalk were immediately trained on him. Depa grabbed Bella and pulled her, grunting, in front of him, training his blaster on her head.

These were secondary concerns to Del, however, as he brought his full attention on his Bella, She was terrified, but defiant, and he felt her love for him surge in the force. He looked at her with steady eyes, trying to send her reassurance, let her know everything was going to be fine. He felt an unnatural calm. Even in these circumstances, her presence was soothing.

"Don't you move a muscle!"

Del ignored Depa and kept his attention on his woman. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" His voice was soft and sure, strong and soothing.

"No." Her voice was strong but fearful, and he felt her concern for him, as well as her fighting the urge to hope that they might get out of this. She was also unsure what she should reveal about how much she knew him. He wished he could tell her none of that mattered now.

"It's going to be okay. This will be over soon." He tried to put as much reassurance as he could in those words.

"HEY! I'm talking to you, hero!" Depa was getting antsy.

Finally tearing his eyes from hers, Del reached back and pulled his hood down, stepping forward and bringing the full weight of his attention on Depa.

"This is over. Put your weapons down. Let her go. Get on the floor."

For a moment, Del thought that it might work. But the keyed up emotions of the situation prevented the mind trick from fully taking hold, and Depa and his lieutenant exchanged a nervous laugh.

"How about this. You step away from that control panel or very bad things start happening to her."

"That's not going to happen now. This is over."

"I don't know who you think you are, but…."

"Listen to me. This is very important, because the choice you make in the next few seconds will determine if you and your two friends live or die."

"I know you think you are in control here. You aren't. I know you think you have the ability to do significant harm to her, me, and this general area of the planet. You don't. All that ended when my feet hit the ground in front of you."

Del let a small smile creep to his lips.

"In the next few seconds, one of two things is going to happen. Either the three of you are going to lie down your weapons and surrender to the authorities, or you will die."

"Believe me when I tell you, you can no longer harm her, and you cannot harm me. That is not a boast. It is not a prediction, nor is it a promise."

"It is simply a fact."

Depa was breathing heavily now, shifting, somewhat unsure of himself.

"You – you turn around and walk out of here right now and I'll consider letting her g….

"This is not a negotiation. You no longer hold any cards of significant value. This is over. The only choice you have is between a chance for life, and a pointless death."

It became obvious to Del that his attempt to end this without bloodshed was not going to be successful. Depa shifted nervously, taking a step back, dragging Bella with him, gun still pointed at her head. Like most sentients, he was unable to grasp the situation beyond what his sight told him. In this case, it told him he and his men were still firmly in control.

That misperception would likely be his last.

Fully stretched out with the force, a sudden ripple told him he was about to run out of time an instant before the lieutenant, blaster still trained on Del, looked at the monitor of the control panel.

"Depa, they're rushing!" Del knew the monitor was showing him images of the Militia pouring through the front door of the school, heading in their direction.

Depa's eyes went wide and his grip on Bella tightened. "Kill hi….."

He hadn't finished the command before he was flying across the room, in the opposite direction as his former hostage. Del had closed his eyes, experiencing the odd but welcome sensation, as he always did in combat, of time slowing down. He had reached out with the force, pulling on Bella and pushing Depo hard. The two flew apart, Bella landing and rolling in an open area of the stage, while Depo crashed hard into a stack of boxes at the far end.

In the same moment, Del's saber was flying into his right hand, coming up and igniting and instant before two blasts from the lieutenant reached him, deflecting both perfectly upwards. The soldier on the catwalk had no idea where the blasts that killed him came from. He died without firing a shot.

Del used the momentum from this move to spin himself, feeling his weapon hum in his hands as he bore down on his target. He closed the distance between himself and the lieutenant in a heartbeat. The separatist, to his credit, was no stranger to combat, and after the initial shock of not having Del slumped in a heap had quickly passed, he trained his blaster back toward his moving target. He was almost able to get off a second volley before Del's saber cut him neatly in half.

Del felt the force cry out a warning, and he leaped high into the air, deactivating his saber and flicking his wrist at Depa, who had managed to quickly get himself in a kneeling position in front of the boxes. The blaster fire passed harmlessly beneath him, and before Depa could get a track on him, he noticed the cylindrical object Del had apparently thrown tumbling toward him. He didn't know what it was, but knew it wasn't good. Dropping and rolling to the side, he came up with his blaster at the ready, searching for his target. What he found instead was the object had tracked him through his roll. He recognized it an instant before Del force activated it. His last thought before the saber blazed to life, piercing his heart, was that Dooku's intelligence had failed him badly when they informed him their were no Jedi anywhere close to Aesculus.

Falling back to the stage, Del called his saber back to him, watching Depa's body slump to the floor. Taking life was not something he relished. He did it when necessary, and he would sleep well tonight knowing that in this case it was, but he never enjoyed it.

Brushing those thoughts aside he turned to the reason he came. She was half laying, half sitting on the stage floor where he had thrown her, struggling in her bindings to get a better look at what had happened. He smiled as he felt her relief and love, picking her small body up gently from the floor and setting her back on her feet.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and looked past him. "Are they…."

"Yes. They didn't leave me a choice."

Stepping closer to him her eyes widened slightly. "The children….."

Del put both hands on her shoulders, reassuring her. "They're fine. That Angela has some strength in her - she led the others to safety. She's the reason I was able to get back here to you."

A small smile of pride came to her lips. "I will have to thank her then." Again she looked past him, to where the bodies of her captors lay.

Del looked at her. "Are you sure you are okay?"

"Yes it's just…"

Del waited, examining her lovely face, which was now a mask of conflicting emotions.

When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. "I've never seen you fight before."

Del nodded, looking back over his shoulder at what he had done.

"Yeah."

When he turned back, her face was a mixture of pride and relief and love. When her eyes met his, it was merely with awe that she regarded him.

"You saved me."

"Well…"

"You walked right in here. Not caring one bit about your own safety, and saved every single one of us."

"Now wait a minute. Don't go pinning that knight in shining armor stuff on me. It makes it very hard to be uncouth. And you know how I pride myself on that." He gave her a lopsided grin.

She chuckled before letting out a shaky breath. "Could you… erm…" smiling, she waved her still bound fingers at him.

"Oh yes, of course. How un-chivalrous of me. I suppose they felt the need to cuff you for their own safety." He grinned as he drew her into an embrace, removing his saber and igniting it, carefully reaching down behind her and slicing through her bindings.

"Damn right." Her face was buried in his chest. For some reason that felt as right as anything had in his life.

She slid one free arm through his as they headed toward the stage exit.

Grinning, he couldn't resist adding "I'm just surprised they didn't gag you."

That earned him an indignant giggle and an elbow to the ribs.

Together they walked back to the light, to the warming embrace of their loved ones.