Part 25

"Rakehell Leader, this is Rakehell Two. Stick with me, there is an opening for another pass."

"Copy that, Two. Right behind you."

The two Incom XJ7 "X-Wing"-class starfighters dipped low as another series of intensely-bright turbolaser shots passed overhead. The blasts were not from other space fighters, but instead from one of the many banks of cannons on an Alliance Star Destroyer. Until a moment ago, Luke, Corran Horn, and the rest of Rakehell Squadron weren't sure if Darth Caedus was directing his forces to collapse on them . There was no question in their minds now.

The majority of the Jedi council were in flight suits, frantically hauling X-Wing control yokes with one hand and influencing the fight using the Force with the other. These influences ranged anywhere from a simple burst of mental confusion to completely redirecting an incoming concussion missile. This trump card was managing to keep most of Rakehell Squadron alive when it, in all probability, should have joined the rest of the floating field of scrap by this point.

It also drew enormous amounts of attention to them. A pair of proton torpedoes suddenly taking sharp turns directly into each other and exploding well short of their target was not a common sight. The other issue their powers presented was making them a gigantic glowing beacon to Darth Caedus. Luke was fairly certain that his nephew would have been able to feel them coming kilometers away anyway, Force-usage or not.

Corran and Luke's X-Wings came back up from below the Anakin Solo's horizon and nosed toward the capital ship's bridge tower just long enough each dump a pair of proton torpedoes before peeling starboard around the back of the tower. Thanks to Ben playing helter skelter with most of the Star Destroyer's systems from within, there were no shields to prevent to blue comets from exploding against and into the tower.

Brief moments of flame and ionization burst in the black of space, and were immediately replaced with gaps in the ship's plating. Just as Luke came around the other side of the tower, he was certain he spotted several flailing bodies tumble into space.

Cruel, horrifying deaths delivered to simple, well-meaning technicians by the Grand Master of the New Jedi Order. This was not the way it was meant to be. The thought was quickly chucked to the back of Skywalker's mind. There was no "way" that war was supposed to be, no grand unified treaty of honor and dignity on the battlefield. Not one that was recognized, anyway.

Luke simply wished this could be settled with a simple Lightsaber duel. Himself, maybe one or two others depending on who Caedus fielded. An unremarkable room, possibly a hangar or large office, with little clutter. Some words to clear the air, and then crossed blades. So many major problems in the galaxy had been settled in such a manner.

The aging hero had always wanted a chance to duel Caedus, an opportunity to bring Jacen back to the light or stop him before he could cause more destruction. That chance originally seemed possible during the chaos of the Battle of Kashyyyk, but when Leia and Han reported back that the Hapans wouldn't be supporting the Jedi Coalition, Luke was forced into a starfighter with the rest of the Jedi and the battle quickly turned to a slaughter. A Jedi was never meant to have regrets, but Luke had been finding that ability to shrug them away absolutely impossible after his wife's murder.

Following the killing of Mara Jade Skywalker at Caedus' hands, Luke insisted to the rest of the council that he was in no position to lead the Jedi. He offered his seat to several Jedi, including Kyle Katarn, Corran Horn, and Cilghal, but all of them declined. It was a kindness for them insist that Luke still had it in him to the be the tip of the Jedi blade, but it was without much merit.

"Hell Leader, Rendar here. We're tryin' to get to you guys, but these bucketheads are swarming us. A few of us slipped through, but I'm a bit too busy trying to keep me and mine from getting fried to head your way. We'll keep thinin' them out, best that can be done at the moment."

Luke sighed. He had felt Jacen's strange Force technique reaching out. He had practically seen the tendrils stretching from the Anakin to the various Alliance ships in combat, watched them dance in perfect formations. It was no surprise he had put a wall of fighters between himself and such an unpredictable element as the mercenaries.

"Carry on, Dash. We are still pecking away."

A pang of light filled the top right corner of Luke's vision, like a ray of sunlight momentarily piercing a cloud cover. He pushed the stick forward, forcing his X-Wing perilously close to the flagship's upper surface. A volley of green lasers soared meters from the top of his canopy. He pulled back up, and a seemingly suicidal A-Wing rocketed just underneath.

Corran shouted over the comm, "Several more incoming!"

"Backroll and hit the tower again," Luke said.

"I see the fighters, Leader. Coming to intercept."

The last voice was Tycho Celchu, a veteran pilot and ex-Leader of Rogue Squadron.

Corran and Luke's X-Wings banked sharply straight up away from the Anakin's top bow and back toward its command tower. The two snubfighters began rotating along their path in case any of the topside laser batteries picked them up. They opened up with their quad laser cannons in unison, creating a segmented river of red energy. The shots all landed within a meter of each other, and Luke saw transparisteel burst into vacuum. They had apparently blasted open a rather large and important room in the tower.

Then, just as the two fighters were about to jib past the tower, Luke Skywalker saw him. In the back of the room in an open turbolift, he could clearly make out the image of Jacen Solo. The moment was no longer than a pair of seconds, but it immediately began to stretch into seeming minutes. Luke felt Jacen's awareness upon his mind and the X-Wing around him. As the turbolift's doors started to close, Jacen extended his remaining hand directly in Luke's direction. The field of freshly-shattered transparisteel between them immediately spread away, and Luke's X-Wing shuddered violently, the console within exploding in shrapnel and sparks.

With the Force granting Luke an extra few seconds of extended time, the Jedi Master looked directly into his nephew's eyes, searching for anything resembling hesitation or regret, but found nothing.

As Corran twisted his X-Wing past the front of the tower, he looked back to see Skywalker's X-Wing shake, panels and parts fly free, and its shields disappear in a violent burst of energy.

"Luke!"

The seemingly endless clusters of pipes and access hatches wound and wrapped back upon themselves in a chaotic pattern that displayed a ruthless intent of efficiency or obfuscation. The difference was moot to Tahiri, as the cramped upper engineering level bounced loudly around her, constantly threatening to send her soaring off of her footing and into a large pipe or bulkhead.

The level for the secondary generators that supplied back-up power to the command tower's shields, communications, navigation, non-basic flight controls, radar, and perimeter defenses was an intricate network of control surfaces and nearly-exposed cables and piping. The level's layout was small, consisting of just two short hallways with several rooms branching off from each.

The systems were incredibly complex, easily the highest-end software and hardware in the Fifth Fleet. Duplicates were backed-up by triplicates, in-turn supported by redundancy after redundancy. Simply shooting and slashing at random systems would only cause temporary inconvenience to any of the officers on the bridge. The strikes cutting through the miles of computer banks and cables, however, were anything but random. The level was being torn apart by Ben Skywalker, a young man who had spend more than enough time aboard the icon vessel to learn how to bleed it best.

His climb up one of the turbolift shafts had been testing, but not without benefit. Along the way up, Ben had used the Force to heal what could be healed of his wounds, and to numb the rest. A few specific movements were slower, and he was aware of them, but the pain was no longer there to distract him.

Upon reaching the level, he had used the last of his thermal detonators to destroy the secondary and tertiary systems controlling the power regulation for the tower's shields. After that, it was a surprisingly calm process of finding specific systems and using his blue, glowing override command on them.

Until Tahiri and the Galactic Alliance Guard had shown up, that is.

For a moment Ben had considered continuing his work to completely disable the Anakin while blocking what attacks he could and accepting those he couldn't, but he knew that wasn't in the best interest of the attack. Only during a brief pause as he took cover from the first volley of shots did Ben realize that he had put his own life so low on this priority list. It didn't phase him.

He took no joy in his actions, simply focusing on the task at hand like a beast of burden with blinders blocking the sides of its vision. Ben knew that if he allowed even the faintest hint of emotion to cloud his judgment, he would remember that the man he had just deflected a blaster bolt into the throat of was a man he used to make jokes with in between raids on Coruscant.

Rolling and leaping, deflecting and throwing Force-powered pushes and pulls at a speed he had never before attempted, Ben had managed to defeat the the Guardsmen Tahiri had brought with her. Unfortunately, in the process, Caedus' Sith apprentice had managed to graze Ben with her lightsaber several times. One of these wounds, a deep slash across the side of his left leg, still burned.

Tahiri was in a difficult predicament. She could camp in front of the room's only exit, a turbolift door, or she could continue to chase him around the cramped spaces in an attempt to stop him from destroying any more systems. She had chosen a balanced strategy of the two options, rushing after Ben whenever she felt him close to something important, then rushing back to the turbolift door. So far, her hybrid plan was working and Ben had yet to do any more significant damage to her makeshift home. She was unsure if it mattered, considering how many blows had already been dealt to the Star Destroyer's infrastructure.

The dynamic had just changed. Tahiri knew now that her master, Jacen, was on the way. Ben likely knew as well, hiding somewhere near-by and easily able to hear the small comm unit. Ben also knew that while he stood a slight chance against Tahiri if he could use the environment to his advantage, Jacen could put him down quickly no matter the circumstances.

His hand had been forced. Again, he didn't concern himself with his own life, hoping instead that his work had been enough to bring down the flagship and its commander.

"I'm sure you heard that, Ben," Tahiri said, her voice level but weary. "Jacen is coming our way. You may be able to run and hide from me for a little while longer, but with Jacen at my side, your mission is over."

Tahiri's words were merely tools. She had found that speaking to him was one of the best ways to pick him up in the Force, provided she used the right triggers. Through various taunts and declarations, Tahiri had concluded that Ben wasn't susceptible to dispair or even the concept of failure, but had a strong attachment to his dead mother and her memory.

Ben had attempted the same verbal warfare a few times as well, but to no avail. He appealed to her memory of Anakin, and what he would think of what she was doing now. This was a ridiculous strategy, as Tahiri was practically fueled by her firm belief that Anakin was watching her now. She knew he was proud of her, proud that she had found the strength to turn against her false family for the sake of galactic peace. Her cause was righteous.

Attempting to use the Force to bounce his voice and hide its source, Ben shouted back.

"Tahiri, you were one of the smartest Jedi I've ever known. Heck, one of the strongest people. You've seen so much, how can you not see that he's manipulating you? For the longest time, I was convinced that Jacen was my best friend. He was only using me, grooming me into just another Sith weapon, just like he did to you!"

These final words were too powerful for their own good. Ben had risked that last emotional outburst and broken his tenuous Force hiding. Without a sound, Tahiri broke into a sprint toward the corner that Ben was hiding around. She crossed the distance nearly instantaneously. The ominous crackle of two lightsabers bursting to life at the same time echoed in the small room.

Ben took the initiative and wheeled around the corner in a slash. Still moving at speed, Tahiri leapt, spinning, over the strike. She ended her flip against the far wall and kicked off it, bringing a fierce strike down at the young Skywalker. Ben rolled to his right and the crimson beam passed through several pipes. Gas and sparks burst into Tahiri's face. Ben stepped forward and took a quick slash at her shoulder. She blocked, but he stepped around and shoved her back with his shoulder. He immediately followed this with a rising slash that went well over an inch through her left hip.

Tahiri embraced the pain and channeled it into her hand, sending a powerful wave of Force at Ben. The invisible pressure lifted Ben up and his collision with the bank of screens behind him culminated in an explosion of glass and metal. He shook his head and brought his blade up just in time to block a downward strike. The blades locked inches from his face, and the scent of ionizing air filled his nostrils.

Ben pushed against the blade and looked into Tahiri's eyes. What little sympathy he could feel was being drowned by frustration and focus, that old hunter's focus that he had always been told she operated on. In combat, she was natural predator, fierce and unrelenting. Mixed with the Dark Side of the Force, this was the perfect recipe for a killer. He had to use it against her.

Somehow.

Ben used his legs to push back at Tahiri's blade, pressing harder and harder. Finally, when he felt that his muscles could take no more, he kicked off the control surface behind him and used the compressed energy in their blade lock to propel him between Tahiri's legs. He carried the momentum into a roll and came to his feet. With nothing against her blade, the Sith Apprentice stumbled forward as her blade went through more machinery.

The son of Skywalker took that moment to throw a blast of Force at her turned back, but with his aching muscles and screaming wounds, Tahiri easily knocked it out of the air with her hand as she spun around. He breast lifted and fell with heavy breaths, and for the first time, he saw a small glint in her eyes. A spark of amber in her irises.

She rushed at him again. This time, she began a series of strikes before the gap between them was even closed. Up to down, brought around to his left, a quick duck, bringing his saber back up to block the follow-up. The strike was light enough for him to deflect and counter-attack with a pair of swings, but Tahiri blocked them with ease.

Ben ducked and side-stepped the next two attacks and jumped nearly two meters back.

He shouted, "The Dark Side has you! Your judgment is gone, Tahiri. You're a slave to the hate!"

"Lies!" Tahiri returned as she leaped at the Jedi once more. She continued her seamless strikes at Ben, speaking over the loud crashing of 'sabers. "Nonsense and dogma prattled by old men afraid of losing their grip on the galaxy!"

She struck high, then bounced her blade off his and came around at his legs. He hopped over the swing and swung at her shoulder, and she blocked it. Stepping forward and exhaling loudly, she pushed Ben back. He caught his footing and caught the next few swings, using the momentum of the last one to carry her blade into the wall, then stepped forward and kicked her forward knee. There was an audible crack, but it didn't buckle.

Tahiri screamed.

She spun Ben's lightsaber around, parrying it to the side. Ben looked from his blue blade back to Tahiri just in time to be blinded with red energy. His face filled with furious pain that he didn't imagine possible.

Lightsaber in hand and operating off pure instinct, Ben dropped to all fours and broke off into a run, going around the corner at full speed. His mind was a blur, his survival instincts clashing with the pain in his face and the inputs flooding in from the Force. He took a quick breath and summoned every bit of the Force that he could. The pain in his face stopped intensifying, but it certainly didn't lessen. Ben sensed Tahiri coming around the corner behind him. He slashed at what he hoped were pressurized pipes around him and ran again, coming around the corner that their duel had begun at moments ago.

He heard escaping gasses and used that second to wipe at his eyes. Blinking hurriedly, his vision came back in patches. Some parts of his sight contained perfectly normal details, other sections were nothing but weak blobs of colors. Ben brought his hand into view and saw that it was covered in both the water from his eyes, but a good amount of blood.

It was time to run again. He ran around the corner and stopped in the middle of the hall, then cut through the one short hall that connected the two primary paths. Another breath brought with it more of the Force's gentle touch. The pain became centralized, and finally he could tell that she had cut deeply into or even through the right side of his face, just below his eye. He didn't dare touch it or poke at it with his tongue. Instead he spat, and the fluid was unmistakably red.

This was a fight he could not win. Regardless of Jacen's approach, this duel was over. He knew that the key to her mind, to the personality that was the Tahiri he'd come to respect, was Anakin. Not just Anakin's image, but the pure devotion to life that he carried with him. Life, at any cost.

If she could not be convinced with what a hypothetical Anakin would or would not do, Ben thought, then the only option left was to make her feel what Anakin felt: compassion.

She was coming around the corner again. He blinked some more, and his vision was almost returned. Trusting in the Force, he closed his eyes one last time and imagined his mother and father. He brought his lightsaber to bear and allowed the Force to embrace him. A shiver ran through his arms, down his legs and back up to his head. It was a wave-like sensation, and it brought with it a sense of calm. He wasn't sure why, but in his mind he recalled his father telling him of Obi-Wan Kenobi's noble death.

Tahiri came into view, her mouth closed, nostrils flared, the amber flakes in her eyes now more numerous. Without a word, she began to strike once more. Black and parry, spin. Deflect, too slow, block again. Ben made no attempt to strike back. He simply defended as best he could, feeling Tahiri's rage build.

He blocked a strike at his left waist and inhaled as she came around for another strike. He caught it, but finally allowed his muscles to submit to the fatigue, and his lightsaber went spinning over his shoulder and landed a meter behind him. Seeing her moment, Tahiri brought the bright red beam back for a final blow.

Ben opened his arms wide, looked directly into her malevolent eyes, and spoke in a shockingly calm tone.

"He wouldn't do it."

Howling in fury, Tahiri brought her Sith blade straight down upon the crook of his neck. Ben closed his eyes and prepared for the light. It didn't come.

Ben looked to see the glowing lightsaber hovering mere centimeters from his neck, followed it past its hilt, the hands holding it, arms, shoulders, and to Tahiri's face. Her jaw was shaking and she couldn't stop swallowing. Her eyelids were fluttering, water building at their edges. He looked directly at her. Into her. She was awash with emotion, a horrible torrent of feelings from incomprehensible fury to crushing sadness.

He wanted to tell her that it was okay. He wanted to say that everything was going to be alright, and that she had only been lost, was now found again. But he couldn't. Jacen would be here any second, and as soon as she saw his face, Ben knew that Tahiri would be instantly refocused. Without moving another muscle, he opened his hand and summoned his lightsaber back into his hand. In one swift motion he activated the blade, brought it up in a rising backhanded slash, felt certain resistance as he cut through, and finally stepped forward and shoved her away with both hands.

She fell to the floor and dropped her weapon, making a sound more of sadness than pain or anger. The slash had cut deep, and blood was quickly soaking into the gray edges of her bodysuit.

The urge to stop and summon everything he could to help her was strong. She was never evil, simply another tool. Tahiri had been played, just as Ben had, just as the galaxy had.

However, he was no Jedi Healer, and he could already feel the presence of his one-time master approaching. Ben allowed himself a few seconds to use the Force to numb he new wounds and shove energy into his muscles. He quickly cut a few more clusters of wiring that he thought might have been on his target list, but with his mind in its current state, he couldn't be sure.

With little time to spare, Ben hurried over to the turbolift door, used the Force to cast it open, and reveled in the brief gust of air. Looking down, he could see clearly the lift containing Jacen approaching quickly. The wounded Jedi spotted an access hatch across from him, behind which was a series of small crawl spaces and tight ladders that ran parallel to the entire length of the lift's tube for maintenance. A Force push and the access hatch was blasted back into its own tunnel.

Ben could hear the roar of the approaching lift. A quick shake of the head, a breath, and Ben dove across the gap toward the small opening. His arms were inside, but the rest of his body slammed into the wall below. Scrambling, kicking, he inched up toward the opening. He felt Jacen's presence, and knew that Jacen could feel his. With images of the hours of torture at his cousin's hands, he threw the last of his energy into one last kick and hauled himself into the crawl space.

Less than a second later, he felt the rush of air as the turbolift rose to block the hatch and come to a stop. Ben crawled forward and reached a tight ladder that seemed to extend downward into eternity. He stepped down the rungs just far enough to be confident that Jacen wouldn't attempt to crawl in and drag him out of the maintenance space. Ben wrapped his arms around one of the rungs, finally allowed his muscles to begin to recuperate, and began to cry.

Kyle Katarn deflected one final volley of blasts back into the chest of an Alliance soldier. A few meter away, Kyp cut through the last resisting soldier's arm and kicked him away. In the hangar below, it was pure chaos. Officer, crewmen, mechanics and soldiers alike were scrambling to various fighters and shuttles. After the two Jedi had dispatched of two squads of Alliance gunmen, almost everyone else in the vicinity figured that they had far better survival chances by simply continuing their evacuation plans.

The two nodded at each other and began jogging toward the hanger's east exit. Immediately recognizing their robes, the panicked crew parted and rushed around them. They pushed through more soldiers and reached a bank of lifts before stopping in unison.

Kyp turned to Kyle, the two wearing the same shocked expression. Kyp asked Kyle a question, but he already knew the answer.

"Can you feel Luke anymore?"

Kyle sighed. "No."