Teen Titans / Star Wars Crossover: Chapter 17: Voices in the Dark

…

Well, at last another installment in the story of two amazing universes, and what can happen when they collide. It's been a while, I know, but that's the way these things go sometimes. Sorry about that. Perhaps I'll be able to update more frequently in the future.

I do not own any of the characters in the "Teen Titans" or the "Star Wars" franchise, of course.

…..

Chapter 18: Voices in the Dark

The Chimaera, flagship of Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet, was steadily making its way towards the next node of Black Sun power. Already, working together, Lord Asmodeus and Thrawn had taken down the more obvious of Xizor's organization. Asmodeus had to admit, that had been somewhat gratifying.

He was currently at one of the observation blisters built into the great ship's side. They were not currently traveling through hyperspace, and wouldn't, until they were certain of the position of their quarry and jump coordinates. Then, they'd hyperjump directly into the very center of Black Sun's fleet (such as still existed), fire off a salvo in pretty much every direction, laying waste to all around them...and, without missing a beat, jump right back out, as still another ship popped into baryonic space from the other direction, oftentimes from "below" or "above" the plane of battle. One thing Thrawn had taught him was that most beings derived from planetary populations tended to think only in terms of two dimensions.

Xizor's fleet, so far, had failed miserably to cope with such tactics. And he agreed with Thrawn totally, in his assessment of force used: no survivors. Such takeaway intel from those in the battle would only allow Xizor's fleet to develop tactics against them. Though, to be honest, he couldn't begin to imagine the crime lord's own fleet as being anywhere near up to even slowing them down, let alone stopping them.

Such a fool he'd been.

Back when he was first...he supposed "translated" was as good a term as any-back when he'd first found himself in this new, and to him, wonderful universe, he'd naively assumed that, being intimate with the details of the "movie" (had it been only a movie? Was this?), and being a natural at the use of the Force, that it would be child's play to bend these factions and entities to his will, to become the supreme power here.

How wrong he'd been.

He hadn't lied to Robin. Everything he did served to make the future different from what he knew, and, being different, practically unable to reliably predict the future. True, he had his foresight, but it was proving to be somewhat less than completely accurate.

They were in normal space at the moment, so he took the opportunity to cast out, with that power that seemed to come naturally to him, to locate certain individuals whom he knew would be important to him. He located the Emperor almost immediately, to no one's great surprise: Palpatine was easily the mightiest Force user around. And, he could tell Palpatine felt him in his scanning. No matter; the Emperor would expect no less than such from one of his disciples.

Vader was next, and Asmodeus frowned as he-with greater care-sought out his "master." He took pains to hide his Seeing from Vader, who could still prove to be both a complication and a resource to draw upon. He hadn't yet decided which one would benefit him the most.

Such a fool.

It had honestly never occurred to him that everything he did changed the "script" of the "movie," made the future more uncertain. Like he'd told Robin, quantum physics had never been his strong suit. Now he was paying for his ignorance, and, yes, perhaps his arrogance as well. Indeed, more for arrogance than ignorance.

Speaking of, he thought to himself, and he cast his Sight as far as he could, searching, seeking the Titans themselves. Once they'd finished mopping the proverbial floor with Xizor's bunch, perhaps he'd seek them out. He couldn't sense anything of Luke Skywalker, and that troubled him...but not as much as his senses were telling him of the one called "Beast Boy."

There was the vaguest indication of his and the dark girl's (Raven, she called herself) mutual conjoining. That didn't bother him; human emotions, especially those worn on the surface, were usually fairly easily manipulated. Let them fuck each other's brains out; that could actually work in his favor. The closer they bound themselves to each other, the more easily manipulatable they, as a pair, became.

If he could somehow manage to capture the green one, and convince him of the rightness of his actions-even, and perhaps, preferably-without the use of any stupid and highly overrated brainwashing, just by simply showing him the truth (or, at least, the parts of it that tabled the best), then Garfield might possibly persuade Raven to come over to his side. The two of them could, it was conceivable, even convince the other Titans to join Asmodeus on his righteous campaign. Why not?

What did bother him, bothered him more than he wanted to let on, was that, casting his Sight into the future, after a certain time….

...he could sense nothing of Garfield. Neither alive nor dead, at least, not in any sense he had access to. Neither in the higher realms nor the lower ones, nor even in the minds of others whom he could sense. It was as if the boy had simply ceased to exist.

That troubled him greatly, as any plans he'd had to bring Raven on board depended upon somehow bringing the shapechanger over to his side. He really had little doubt he could do that, somehow, but...if the green one was somehow no more…

...that would mean a major monkeywrench thrown into his schemes. Another monkeywrench. And he was, frankly, getting a trifle weary of being pelted with such utensils.

Garfield Logan was, therefore, much more important than he realized. So perhaps some precautionary steps needed to be taken to-*

"Magnificent, aren't they?" said a voice right at his shoulder. It took all his self-control to keep from jumping. "They never fail to inspire me," said Thrawn, completely oblivious (or seeming to be) of his surprising the young Sith Lord.

Asmodeus half-turned to him. It wouldn't do to let Thrawn see how he'd so thoroughly surprised him. (How had he gotten so close? Thrawn was no Force-user...wasn't he?) "Admiral." He inclined his head. Then he turned back to the panorama outside. "As you say, magnificent."

"They remind me of the pieces of a three-dimensional board game back on my home world. Some," he gestured towards the dimmer, smaller stars, "are minor pieces. And some," this time a gesture towards brighter, closer ones, "are a bit more significant." Asmodeus said nothing. "In the game, however," Thrawn went on, "even the most insignificant could become major pieces in play."

Asmodeus saw no reason to encourage Thrawn's reflections. Besides, he had a hunch the Grand Admiral was talking about more than just board games. "How goes our course?"

"We'll be making the jump in ten mentons. I thought you might like to be on the bridge when we do." He turned an amused (amused, damn him!) glance at Asmodeus. "You always seemed to enjoy the show."

Asmodeus bothered to shift a glance at the older man. Just how closely did Thrawn observe him?

And why?

…

The Victory Star: "Hm," rumbled Vader, from his seat in the office that used to be held by Grand Moff Tarkin. Sorn had taken the young lieutenant's story and recordings straight to him. "This is...interesting, Captain. A marker star-disappeared, and now a civilian transport, apparently attacked-and presumed destroyed-by something out that way." It could be a coincidence, Vader thought, but was careful not to let his skepticism show in his voice. Like Sorn himself, Darth Vader had not risen to his current rank by downplaying the "gut feelings" of those under him. If a seasoned officer like Sorn thought there was some reason to bring this to him… "Very well, Captain. I want you to dispatch a remote control droid probe to those last known coordinates. No, make that three. And have them move in a linear string. Perhaps, if something does attack them, the ones behind will catch it in their sensors.

"And commend your young lieutenant. It could not have been easy for him to report with such sketchy information, yet he did his duty. I admire that." He rose, and Sorn saluted. "That will be all, Captain."

….

Prince Xizor was, as the Earth-human expression would have put it, "fit to be tied." Except that was his worst nightmare.

Right now, his second worst nightmare was unfolding before his horrified eyes. World after world, stronghold after stronghold of his was falling before what could only be Imperial might. He knew the rebels didn't have anything like the resources to mount such an escalation, and the Hutts-*

His eyes suddenly widened as he realized the truth. Hurriedly (ever conscious that a Star Destroy could materialize overhead any moment), he dialed a very-little used number and letter combination. As he expected, the call went through instantly. He wondered if the damnable Hutt had been waiting for it. Probably. "You," he snarled, as Jabba's image stabilized on his screen. "You lousy, pest-ridden sack of sarlacc shit! You did this to me!"

Jabba's vast face took on a puzzled look. "My brother? You seem upset."

"You're damned right I'm upset! And you know why! I don't know how you did it but you've managed to sic the Imperials on my tail!"

Jabba scratched his face reflectively. "I did that? But why would I do my brother in such a way?"

"I'm not your brot-* Never mind. And why? Oh, I don't know; credits, maybe? You'd sell your own mother if the price was right! And you can't deny that, with me gone, you'd have a monopoly on our mutual trade circuits!"

"But my brother, competition is always good for business, is it not?"

"Good for driving the price of cargo down, yes! But with no effective competition, you could jack up the price on goods and services to whatever you want!"

"My brother, you seem to be upset."

"You're godsdammed right I'm upset! Thanks to you, I doubt I live to see another sunrise!"

Xizor paused a moment, out of breath. He was literally shaking with rage. He'd never felt so powerless. And the damnable Hutt… "Perhaps not," said Jabba's image. "I take it you fear for your personal safety?"

"Oh, my, whatEVER gave you THAT idea?"

On the screen, Jabba spread his stubby arms wide in a gesture of inclusion. "There is always room at my table for my brother!"

For a moment, Xizor felt as if time had come to a halt. Was the Hutt actually saying what he thought he was saying? "What do you want from me?" There is a time to rage and a time to bargain, and Xizor hadn't risen to his position of power by not recognizing each.

"Why, simply say so. I will begin preparations for your arrival even as we speak. And it just so happens I've an agent out there, not far from you. A most reliable one, indeed.

"Yes, there is always room at my table for my brother.

"For, of course, a perfectly reasonable transference fee."

Xizor felt as though the universe itself was throttling him. So this was the Hutt's game. "Alright, 'brother,' let's talk...perfectly reasonable transference fees."

….

Boba Fett hadn't thought it possible to be more humiliated than he had been by that brat with his stick. But in its own way, this was just as bad.

His ship, Slave 1, was docking with the only still-functioning orbital station still under Black Sun's control. And then he waited. And fumed. So this was what he'd sunk to: a glorified taxi cab.

Prince Xizor came hurrying out into the open airlock, the lock's forcefields keeping the atmosphere in, accompanied by two slave girls, both of whom looked terrified, clinging to each other. "Hold it," he spoke over the ship's external comm, "my orders are only for you, Prince."

Xizor stopped abruptly. He probably hadn't even been aware of the girls following him, so used was he to their continued presence. "But I-*"

"No ifs, ands, or buts. There's not enough room here, let alone air and water, for all of you. Now if you like," he continued in a crafty tone; it felt sorta good to torment somebody. "if you like, I could take one of them and leave you." He pointed at the comeliest of them. "Her, maybe. She'd fetch a good price on the slave market, and I'm sure you've trained her well."

Xizor turned to the girls. "Go on back," he ordered in a no-nonsense tone of voice. "Go on!" He climbed aboard Fett's ship.

The two girls began weeping openly, tears running down their faces. But, programmed by a lifetime of conditioning, they knew better than to say anything. Sorrowfully, they turned back to the interior of the station, both of them supporting each other.

Boba Fett watched them a moment, his face and expression hidden behind his Mandalorian armor. Then he glanced at Prince Xizor, just then grumbling as he settled in. That worthy showed not the slightest bit of concern for the two girls. He knew, even as they did, that he'd sentenced them to death when the Empire came calling.

Fett half-turned to Xizor. "Call 'em back."

"Wh-what?"

"What are you, deaf? Call them back." Xizor looked at Fett in amazement. "We'll...manage somehow."

Just as Fett's ship gained speed heading outward from the planet's gravity well, into open space and safe jump point, Fett saw two of his sensors flash red: incoming hyperdrive ships.

Big ones.

…..

Korriban: Luke felt like one enormous bruise. Which was accurate, he was sure.

The shades of the Dark Lords hadn't lied one bit. Once he was fully trained, his ability to summon and use the Force would depend heavily on the health and physical stamina of his mortal body. Not totally, it was true, as each race had its own definition of "healthy." But the more wear and tear he underwent meant that much stronger he'd be...at max strength.

And, the Dark Lords had told him, he should never count on just the Force. More than one battle had been decided when the victor simply crushed the other's skull in with a large rock.

Complacency was death.

And so he dug ditches and filled them in, carried huge backpacks of rocks hither and yon, training his body and mind for the upcoming duel. It had been with a bit of sly amusement that the Dark Lords had gifted him with the knowledge of just who he was up against. And why.

The Dark Side was fueled by rage and hate, and the more Luke trained, the stronger those emotions became within him. He welcomed it; this was precisely why he'd come here: to get stronger.

Well, he'd gotten stronger, all right. A whole lot stronger.

Time itself seemed to dilate, the way it was supposed to when one approached lightspeed. Mentons became ourans; ourans became centons. And still, with a single-mindedness that impressed even these ghost minds, he grew stronger still.

But the Dark Lords had also told him that he must be master, not his rage. To this end, they'd infused his mind and soul with images of their own past, and he was surprised to discover that not all of them involved scenes of what he'd once considered Evil. On several occasions (he'd not counted), a Dark Lord had utilized his, her, or its powers in the defense of another, for no real personal gain.

What, the amusement-tinged question had come into his mind, did you truly think we were all "evil"? He could literally see the quotes around the word.

"Well," he said, sitting on a rock he'd just moved, wiping his brow. "Actually, yes." There was no point in prevaricating with beings who could read his thoughts.

Youngling, you will discover that such terms as "good" and "evil" more often than not simply do not exist, save in the minds of men and historians. The universe is not all black and white. Your task is to strike a balance between the two poles, to make both your tools, rather than you being theirs. In this, your friend Starfire was quite correct. He started; he hadn't been aware the Dark Lords had plumbed his mind that thoroughly. You must use them, rather than let them use you.

For that way lies true defeat, defeat from which there is no recovery.

But for now. There is a task that you must begin. Luke tensed; he was tired, he was exhausted. But something in the "tone" of the shades' voices, voices that all spoke at once, communicated the importance of this next part. There is a place you must go. Following the specters' direction, he soon found himself at the mouth of a small cave. In here, they directed. You must go in here. Traverse it, and come out the other side.

Luke eyed it warily. "Why?" he asked. "What's in there?" He'd learned the Dark Lords welcomed questions...within certain limits. After all, it was in the answering of questions that one learned. And one thing both Jedi and Sith had in common, was that both were dependent on learning.

What you fear.

Luke almost laughed. "I fear nothing." With the rage bubbling up inside him, he truly didn't. He didn't even care about dying, as long as he could take a certain party with him.

Silence. "This is like what Master Yoda tried, back on Dagobah. It didn't work then; it won't work now."

How little you know.

"What do you mean?"

It "worked," as you put it, but you failed to learn from it. Therefore, it stands before you again. Now go. The Dark Lords' ghost voices held the snap of command. Go.

But know you this: there shall be none to rescue you...this time.

"This time?" Luke wondered. What did they mean by that? Nobody had "rescued" him before…

Still, he'd sworn to do this thing. Hefting his lightsaber, he went into the cavern's open maw.

….

Hoth: "Garfield? There's something we need to talk about." The two were in bed, having just completed a marathon bout of lovemaking. Garfield had to admit, with a small, inward smirk, that Raven fucked like a demon.

He sighed. He'd known it would come to this, eventually. "Yeah, Rae, there is."

"I don't want you going into combat."

"Not trying to sound like a smart-ass, but I don't want me going into combat either. But, Rae...what choice do we have? Either of us? I don't want you going into combat, either. But what's the alternative? You've seen how things are around here."

She fumbled with the bedclothes. She was lying halfway across him, the warmth and heady aroma of her bare flesh intoxicating to him. "We...we could...leave. Just go somewhere else. Find some wo-*"

He put two fingers up to her mouth. "Now, Rae. You know that's not an option. For either of us. How would you feel if you were one of these guys here, and two of the top officers-which we are, like it or not-just up and vamoosed? During the night, maybe? Just...deserted these people? C'mon, Rae. If I did that, would I be the sort of person you'd want to know?"

She sighed. "No. But….you don't understand. This, this that we've had, has been the best thing in my whole life. I…" Pause. "Life hasn't been that kind to me, Garfield. And now, just when things seem to be coming together…."

"I know, Rae. But, you know, we don't have to die. Things could work out."

She snuggled closer. "You always were the optimist." That's why I always felt the need to protect you.

Pure optimists tend to die quickly in our line of work.

…..

The Victory Star: Darth Vader was examining some...very interesting reports. The rebels had apparently relocated to another planetoid, Hoth, but that was not of such major concern to him.

Two passenger vessels had disappeared, with no apparent reason. The only thing that could pass for a clue was the screams that echoed from the recorder. That, and the barely intelligible words, words that seemed to him to indicate more than any mere physical pain: "Get it off me!" In both cases, that had signified the end of the record.

He couldn't help but wonder: Get what off me?

What had they encountered out there?

…..

The Yuuzhan Vong warship, whose name would roughly translate into Basic as "Godspain," was patrolling the area assigned to it, far ahead of the main fleet. Although all were armed, not all the ships in the Yuuzhan Vong fleet were actual warships; they'd not be difficult to destroy, and in their destruction-though none would allow themselves to be taken prisoner, of course-they could reveal much to any enemy.

But the enemy the Godspain sought was no mere mortal creature, able to be destroyed or defeated with ordinary weapons. So this particular ship was nearly seventy-five percent armament, a somewhat radical departure from standard designs, with life support and other functions taking a secondary or even tertiary place in its general scheme.

It was hoped that, should they encounter what they feared the most, that such armament would at least allow them to get off a warning signal to the main fleet. This galaxy might not be any safer than their home galaxy had proven to be.

There was a sudden shuddering, and the lighting organisms dimmed momentarily, then came back online, flickering unsteadily. But the shuddering continued, increasing as time passed.

"Tactical," barked the captain, "what is going on?"

"Unknown, captain!" The tactical officer glanced at his readouts. "We...we seem to have hit something! But there is nothing here!"

Or maybe something hit us, thought the captain, her alarm rising by the second. Then they all heard it: a faint, but growing sound-that-was-not-a-sound, that each one heard only in his or her own head: "CoooooOOOoooo?" A questioning sound, accompanied by a slapping, rocking motion of the great ship. Then, with greater certainty, "COOOoooo!"

A sound of recognition.

Even as every weapon on board the Godspain opened fire, the captain slammed her fist down on a nodule that would send her words out into the vacuum. "It is here. What we feared.

"The anti-god."

….

Korriban: the assembled council of the shades of the Dark Lords held converse, even more closely than they normally did. It is coming, said one.

Yes, said another.

How soon?

Unknown. We cannot sense it directly.

What of the other?

A matter not of our concern.

But a problem for those still tied to matter.

Which is not us. Either the mortals will overcome it, or they will not.

The most we can do is to send out signals to those whose minds are more attuned to us. We can no more fight that than we can the Other.

Should we not warn those fleshly beings of the Other?

There was strong deliberation. Then, It will harm nothing if we do, and perhaps gain much. Therefore, we shall.

And what of our disciple?

As to him, as to the others in the galaxy, he will either prevail or perish.

There are no other options.

…..

Luke was beginning to wonder if the Dark Lords were having a little fun at his expense.

As in Yoda's cave, there was simply nothing in here. Oh, there were rocks, stalagmites and stalactites, as with any cave, but there was no enemy here for him to overcome. He kept his lightsaber handy, though….

The worst enemies are always those you can't see.

Or that you overlook.

Could the rocks somehow be his test? Luke had read of beings made of silicon, who resembled rocks to human senses, but who were fully functional living beings. And living beings of any kind could be enemies, enemies to be fought. Fought and overcome.

In desperation, he tried slicing off bits of the rocks around him with his lightsaber. Nothing. Just rock, as far as he could tell.

He finally sat down on an unsliced rock, wiping his brow. It was hot in this cave! Hotter than Yoda's, at least.

The Dark Lords had told him to go in the entrance and come out the other side. Well, okay. Perhaps his test would show itself before then.

But as he moved through the darkness of the cave, he became increasingly uncertain as to his course of action. Just go through this cave and come out the other side? How would that help anything? And so he dithered. What, really, was he accomplishing here? Was he accomplishing anything at all?

Had he really grown stronger? Experimentally, he tried levitating several large rocks. He did so with ease. Next, he tried crushing them. Again, no serious problem. So he had grown stronger….but had he grown stronger in the ways he'd sought?

The more he traversed the cave, the angrier he got. These so-called "Dark Lords" weren't so hot. Have a guy carry rocks from place to place and then go down into a hole in the ground? How was that supposed to help him get the strength he needed to set things right once again?

But over that was a mounting feeling of anxiety, of fear, even. What if he didn't get the power he needed? What would he do?

He couldn't go back to Tatooine; there was nothing for him there. Rejoin the rebels and the Titans? Well, maybe, but how would he describe his latest adventures? "Well, you see, it's like this. First I hauled a bunch of rocks around for these ghosts. Then I hadda go down into this cave…" Stupid. Not worthy of his attention.

Just as he wouldn't be worthy of their attention.

Suddenly, it burst out of him. Was he supposed to confront his fear here, or something? Something stupid like that? "Confront your greatest fear, Luke"? That sort of thing?

There was a rumbling in the cave; it seemed as though the mountain could fall in on him. Standing there, arms out spread, he looked up to the invisible stars above and shouted, "I fear nothing!" And just like that, it came to him.

That was exactly it. Literally. He feared nothing. He feared having nothing, he feared being nothing, far worse than any enemy or pain or foe.

He feared nothing.

Exactly, said the voices in his head. You fear nothing.

That was what had been waiting for him in Yoda's cave. He hadn't seen it there, so focused was he on gaining some transitory skills or vast power. But it had been patient, since it was inside him, all this time.

A person who has no fear can have no courage, because courage is what you use to overcome fear. You can have fear without courage, but you cannot have courage without fear.

And courage, simple courage, was what he needed the most, right then.

The whispers in his mind continued. Now you see.

"So...what do I do?" he mumbled, hand over his mouth. It had been right there all this time, and yet, still so far away…

Now, said the voices, now you begin.

...

Hoth: Leia was standing on the overlook, garbed for the weather. Had anyone asked her, she probably would have said she was keeping watch. She might even have fooled a couple of people.

Han was not one of those people. "Worried about the kid?" He gestured upward with his chin.

"Of course I am. He's gonna get himself killed."

"If he's lucky." At her surprised look, he continued. "Don't try telling me you were thinking otherwise."

She looked down at the ground. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yeah."

Silence. "Why are you still here? The council paid you off. Handsomely, too."

He wrapped his gloved-up arms over the railing. "Well, let's see. There's a crime lord out there who's probably put a bounty on my head big enough for whoever collects it to buy their own planet. Then there's this Evil Galactic Empire," he said it in such a way she could hear the caps, "wants my head on a platter, right alongside yours. My ship isn't so fully prepared that Chewie and I can make a run for the outer reaches, which is what any sane, intelligent being should be doing. Truth?" He turned towards her. "I kinda wanna see what'll happen next."

"Makes sense," she snorted. "There's no money to chase, so here you are."

"It's coming," he said.

"Huh?" She looked up. "What's coming?"

"Huh?"

"What you just said. What's coming?"

"I didn't say that."

"You did so. I heard you, clear as day. You said, 'it's coming.' "

He looked honestly puzzled. "No. Last thing I said was, I wanted to see what would happen next."

She examined him carefully. "You honestly don't remember saying anything else?"

"No, 'cause I didn't."

Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold. Because she believed him.

To be continued…