Garik reached up to take hold of a datacard from the library
shelves, but his knees buckled abruptly and he fell from the ladder, landing
painfully in a heap. Frozen, he thought he heard a scream…
* * *
The Dark light shrieked when Jaina tried to move toward Garik's presence,
making her all the more certain she would be safe with her childhood
"guardian." Ignoring the rabid, mental yelps that sounded from the malevolent
light, she threw all her strength into contacting the safe haven Garik's
ever-reaching presence offered.
For a moment she didn't move; then, ever so slowly, she felt something push
her toward Garik. When she turned she recognized it as the light she had
dismissed before for its appearance of harshness. Up close the beams of light
emitting from the presence were soft, full and alert. Feeling part of her rise
up in anticipation, she recalled her dream.
There was no doubt in her mind now.
* * *
At first all Tiran knew was darkness, then a bright, sharp flash of Light
dazzled his mind's eye. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to touch the
light in awe. He was startled to feel a small hand reach out of the light and
clasp his own. The touch was initially painful, as any contact with pure light
is, and he thought he felt lightning sizzle through his veins, into his mind.
Even as the pain registered the sensation calmed. Instead of lava the contact
with the light felt like a tumultuous, dangerous river, flowing still into him,
but healing and empowering rather than taking and wounding.
As the almost sharply bright radiance began to mellow and dim he realized there
was a being in the centre of the brilliance. He peered into the glow; dark
sapphire eyes met light brown. The air between them tensed and Tiran swore his
heart was pounding so loudly that the other being could hear it. He took a
cautious step toward her and…
* * *
His anger grew. How had the thief gotten past the block? How?! Gnawing
on his fingers anxiously, painfully; the power that came from Master and the
thief…he shuddered. So much…so much Light…so much power…he
moaned. Mustn't fail; we mustn't fail…mustn't… Though his body was
screaming from the power it already contained he put all his hatred, pain, and
will into one last blow…
* * *
Garik.
He heard the call even as he began to stand; his confusion weakened his knees
and he sank to the floor again. His hand went to his head and he glanced around
before realizing the call had been in his mind.
Garik, help me, please!
"Solo?" he muttered tentatively.
Rik!
He froze; he hadn't been called "Rik" in years and even then only one person
had used the nickname, the same person that had given it to him: Jaina. Oddly,
his first thought upon this revelation was, Kriffing Jedi, can't they find
another way to talk to people? Honestly; not everyone can talk into people's
minds. She better not have been poking around in there. Shaking his head,
he got to his feet, comm in hand. Screw the Senate; if he wasn't en route to
Naboo in one standard hour he would not be held accountable for his actions.
* * *
Jaina felt only a brief swell of power and then any ground she had recovered
times five was taken from her.
But the soft light continued to grasp her hands tightly and she drew strength
from it.
A vortex ripped at her mind and heart, stirring memories and uncovering latent
pain just so, causing her to scream in agony.
Still the soft light pulled and anchored her.
The darkest times of her life were played over and over in her mind until
finally the dam broke and she wept real tears. They came not as a storm like
she had always expected them to but as the bitter soft sprinkle of liquid
crystals a survivor cried.
And the soft light comforted her until her grief abated. When she looked up she
saw identical tears tracing his face.
In the presence of this light she found herself secure. For the first time in
so long, her mind was clear; her path certain; her will strong – as if she had
just been sharpened, had gained an edge. Power surged through her blood.
As if sensing the difference, the light's blue eyes looked down at her and smiled
faintly. Together, they fought to reach Garik.
* * *
Iella glanced at her chrono, then at Jaina's door. "I'm sure she's fine," Wedge
assured his anxious wife from the table where he was going through the
"Sith-spawned" paperwork. "She can't get in much trouble while she's asleep."
She hesitated. "I'd like to check on her – just in case. Jedi seem to find
trouble in the safest environments."
Wedge shrugged. With Myri and Syal gone Iella seemed to have shifted her
motherly concern onto Jaina. "Call me if there's a Sith attacking," he said
drolly.
She rolled her eyes and started across the room to Jaina's door.
* * *
They were fighting him! Pain flowed and burst and bubbled in his mind until his
whole body was shaking violently. He would not win; he knew it now in the
bleakness of despair.
Still he held on.
* * *
Iella leaned against the door frame a little. "Jaina? Are you
awake?" No one answered and the elder woman's gut urged her forward. Unlocking
and opening the door, she glanced inside. When looking to the Jedi's bed proved
unprofitable, she stepped further into the room. Her gaze fell on a slumped,
trembling form and her eyes widened. "Wedge? Wedge; come quickly!"
* * *
"Coruscant Ground Control to the Silver Moon, what is your destination?"
The loud voice came from the radio in the cockpit. Garik heard it as he took
his seat before the co-pilot closed the door. The young diplomat sank into his
chair, then buckled his crash webbing. Noticing that his fingers were tapping
on the arm rest anxiously, he clenched his hand into a fist.
When he thought he had finally begun to relax his foot began to tap.
* * *
When Wedge entered the room Iella was shaking Jaina frantically. Wedge's brow
furrowed in worry, his view of Jaina partially blocked. "Iella?"
Barely looking up, she gestured for him to come closer. He did so and blinked
in surprise. Jaina was trembling violently, as if she had exhausted her muscles
and was now unable to stop without collapsing. Her eyes were tightly closed and
her mouth was twisted in a grimace. She appeared to be meditating, but Wedge
had never seen Luke so agitated and drained as Jaina did now – especially not
while in meditation.
His com-link was in his hand to summon a med-team before he realized what he
was doing. He studied Jaina apprehensively; whatever was happening was clearly
a Jedi thing – what could a non-Force-sensitive med-team to for her? Treating
Jedi in the throes of a dangerous meditation was probably not covered in their
medical text book. Before, the Jedi had always taken care of their own, but
now… Even if there was something medically wrong with her, did the base
have the equipment to help? A sick feeling twisted his gut as he rehooked his
comm to his belt.
Luke, I hope your niece inherited your strength and resourcefulness…
* * *
Across the galaxy, on the farthest regions of space, a being, very different
from the one that was attacking Jaina Solo, stirred. As his eyes slitted open
ever-so-slightly a memory floated before his eyes for a moment, taunting him,
and a faint echo of danger from where he had once felt the Force lingered in
his mind. A low moan escaped him and he wondered if it was yet another trick
from Them, all to cause him more pain. But it felt so real this time.
They've faked other things more realistically, part of him argued
resignedly. It was true. Images of people he had known – if his mind was not
playing games with him and he really had known people once – had floated
before him, tantalizing him until he would do anything to reach the phantom and
then…they disappeared, nothing more than a mere mirage.
Still…how could they create the Force, within him, the way it had so
long ago…during better days when he…when…
When what? A raspy, anguished cry sounded in the room, ripped from the
being's throat, much the way his pride and strength had been. A scatter of
other beings in the chamber stirred dimly but did not wake. They would not for
a long time, the being thought cynically. They never woke; it was easier to be
asleep or dead or unconscious – anything was better than feeling the pain that
stripped your every thought and feeling from you until there was only pain.
He was not allowed the mercy of rest; not once in all his captivity. He did not
know how long he had been here, in this torture device that held him and played
mind tricks on him, breaking him mentally and physically. Perhaps it had been
centuries; perhaps only a few moments. Time did not exist in this ghostly world
of torment and isolation and loss. Time belonged to the real world, where there
was love, hate, joy, and despair.
Sometimes he found himself capable of conscious thought and he wondered if
there really was a warm, tangible world outside of where he was held captive.
Was it possible for there to be anything other than pain? He could scarce
remember. On good days he would remember a brief touch, flashes of brandy orbs
and the sound of a great, moving body of water. Never, however, had he
forgotten the Force.
When what felt like the Force tugged again on his mind, more urgently than
before, he was having neither a good nor cynical moment. The thing that held
him was in the throes of inflicting more suffering on him and indeed, not much
was springing to mind at the moment. But then it was there, a cool river
whetting his thirsty spirit for a moment, giving brief respite before demanding
he listen to it.
Reaching inward and mustering all his strength, he focused on the warning, felt
the connection between the threat and his memories. He frowned faintly, but
stopped when he found he did not have the strength to affect his physical being
even that much and hold onto his spirit. The thing holding him lurched more
powerfully than before, seeming to feel his mind drift and wishing to use his
moment of distraction to its advantage. Pushing his mind into the deep recesses
of previously unimagined pain, the thing pulled and twisted until the being's
only thought was, "let me die."
His only thought, that is, save one: a memory of the brandy eyes that haunted
him.
Dimly, he realized he had just enough extra strength to send a short burst of
power across the galaxy to what very well could have been only a distant dream
or mirage.
It would be a long time before he would be capable of conscious thought again.
* * *
Even as the Darkness continued to pull at the Sword and her Edge their bond
grew and strengthened visibly. They stumbled only once, but almost fatally as
the Dark One found some kind of hold on the Edge. When it seemed that not even
the combined strength of the Edge and the Sword could defeat the Darkness, a
faint ray of Light pierced the Darkness and lent the two strength, before it
faded once more.
Recognizing the Light, the "spirits" smiled.
* * *
Just when she felt she could not continue even with the help of the other
light, Jaina felt a warm glow seep into her soul, melting the ice that the evil
light had used against her. Forcing her weary "eyes" open, she smiled faintly
as Garik's presence pulled her deeper into a kind of embrace. The other Light –
the one that had aided her – followed her carefully, seemingly unable to
believe her safe, even with Garik.
* * *
He could feel her weakening and for a brief moment he thought he might yet
triumph. Then Master reached a subtly powerful light and pain exploded in his
mind. He shrieked in agony as fire sprinted through his body like acid. Anger,
protectiveness, and freezing hatred screamed at him until his eyes began to
bleed. When the blast reached its peak his eyes shattered like glass to allow
the tears that streamed down his face and incoherent excuses and babble slid
from his lips.
As suddenly as the torrent came, it silenced and the Dark man was shoved back
into reality where he whispered a strangled, "Master," and slumped into
unconsciousness.
* * *
Jaina "blinked" sleepily as something in Garik's presence changed. Tendrils of
his essence wrapped more securely around her, but at the same time he seemed to
be distancing himself from her. As if he felt her rising uncertainty Garik
paused and she felt something gently brush her cheek. As suddenly as the touch
came it was gone and she felt a blast of cold fury emit from him, aimed at the
light that had attacked her. The force of Garik's wrath – though not in any way
directed at her – seemed to suck energy from her in draining gulps. Both she
and the other, oddly familiar Light – where had she seen those eyes before? –
flailed a moment, then found the presence of mind to reach out to each other.
Once again strength filled them and they stood firm.
The force of the blast intensified a moment, there was an inaudible shriek, and
then it stopped and all but Garik – apparently unaware of what he had
reflexively done – were thrown back into reality.
* * *
Jaina gave a sudden, soft cry, causing Wedge to look up. She jerked once, then
twice, then exhaled deeply, as if with her sigh she released all her tension.
When she inhaled again her eyes snapped open. Her eyes moved around the room
slowly, as if she had barely the strength even to do that, her face paling
rapidly.
"Jaina?" Iella queried, drawing the Jedi's attention.
"Rik," Jaina whispered, almost pleadingly, then her eyes rolled back in her
head and she fainted dead away.
~TJF