The stars melted into long blue lines as the ship entered hyperspace. Anakin let out a sigh of relief. He was safe, for now. However, the man he'd saved lay senseless on the cabin floor. Anakin, until now, hadn't a second to tend to him. Really, the Jedi had hardly time enough to breathe, let alone heal a man from a blaster burn.
He left the pilot's seat and leaned over the man. Gently Anakin pressed the man's temples and felt the life throb inside him. Ah, he would be all right. The Jedi focused to prepare the flow of healing-energy.
That was when a funny thing occurred; Anakin strained. The Force had never been so difficult in arising, so slow and sluggish and difficult in commanding. Panic began to rise, yet Anakin furiously drove it away and ordered himself to calmness. The calmness never came.
Anakin, Anakin, you can do this. You've done it before you can do it again.
Anakin again wrestled with the Force, trying to channel it into the man and heal him. Frustration rose. His eyes went shut and more drops of sweat formed on his brow. He had to do this.
He felt the life of the man buzzing softly. It was like a flame being blown in the wind. Desperately Anakin sought to reach and pump healing strength into it. The task was swimming though murky mud. Flailing, failing.
Anakin grasped the man's shoulder.
"I swear you won't die,' he grated between clenched teeth. His voice strained with the effort, "I swear I won't let you die!"
Anakin grabbed at the tendril of the Force as it swept around him like smoke. With a jolt of elation he knew he had caught it. He heedlessly threw it at the man, thrashing him with healing strength.
DING DING DING
Something chimed. Anakin's mind blinked like a switch. He stupidly turned to look at the controls. Obviously, they were coming out of hyperspace; that was no surprise. But why so soon? Anakin had programmed the ship to drop back into real space in three hours, not three minuets.
Before he stood Anakin checked the man again. His chest rose and fell with gentle, deep breaths. From his wry face all signs of strain had vanished. With a long sigh of relief Anakin found his feet. So that man was would live; Anakin was satisfied.
He turned towards the controls. At least, he was satisfied the man was safe, but what the heck had happened to the ship? Perhaps some new mechanism had been invented and Anakin simply didn't know about it…
Out of the corner of his eye the Jedi spied the chrono.
"That is so strange," he murmured out loud, unable to contain his puzzlement. The ship had, in fact, dropped into real space on schedule. Anakin was the one out of the loop. He'd been hovering over that man, fighting with the stoic Force, for three hours.
Whoa.
No wonder his knees hurt so much.
Exhausted, Anakin slumped back into the chair. The situation perplexed him badly. The swift passing of time was nothing, it had often happened before while meditating with Obi-Wan.
But the Force had resisted his touch! That had never happened before, not to him or Ben or any other Jedi he could think of. Anakin started out the front portal, simply churning with thoughts. Unconsciously, his hand reached down deep into his pocket. Anakin felt it clasp a small, plain ring. A wedding ring. He pulled it out and clasped it like a last line to life.
Anakin knew, in a way, that it was a last line to life. He had summoned the Force to aid him, a gesture that had been engrained into his psyche even from slavery. And the Force had rejected Anakin.
Mon Mothma meditated on the day's events as she reclined on her sofa. Luke Skywalker was now being held under house arrest, a fate which princess Leia had protested loudly but Luke accepted honorably enough. It was so much like that Jedi, to assume that he could do whatever he wanted and receive his punishment calmly. It was simply maddening. Then, Leia had insisted that the fleet to roused to rescue Han. No mention of apprehending Darth Vader, but just saving Han. Again, so maddeningly typical. Mon informed her that it would be impossible as they did not catch the ship's hyper-space jump trajectory.
"We will alert our people around the Republic," Mon had assured Leia, "and we will stay prepared for when Vader makes his reappearance."
This was only partly true. Well, Mon admitted to herself, it wasn't very true at all. The ship's jump trajectory had been caught. The naïve renegade was heading straight into Imperial space. Moff Inkenly's sector of Imperial Space, to be precise. From one perspective, that little, quiet, unnoticed message to Inkenly was a foolish error. Why gain publicity for losing Darth Vader and letting him run off to the Empire? But from another perspective, the message was a masterstroke. Seriously, would a Moff really want to have Vader re-appear, take over the Navy, take over the Empire, and take up his reign of terror from where he had left off? Somehow, Mon doubted it. And she smiled.
MWAHAHAHAHA!!! You've reached chapter nine!! You must have something to say!