Chapter 31 Muun of the Moon


WARNING: Harsh words/ meanness against amputees (plz read the whole chapter and A.N. before you think bad of me)


(Fanfir Note: hello, sorry for the late update. I was buzzy...)


PADME POV

Nothing happened.

She fired again.

It struck true but didn't do a thing.

Nothing happened at all.

The being draped in shadows, finally stepped into the city's dazzling lights.

It was covered in black as pitch armor, and had a duel set of elongated blades, one of which was dripping red, in its hand like claws.

She didn't stop to think about how that happened, or what happened just there. She just accepted it. A blaster was useless against her opponent. Time to improvise.

With no warning the shadow lunged fast at her.

On impulse she flung the blaster at it. The shadow sliced it in half, jumped up, now upon her, blades glowing, sparkling, against the city's lights.

She kicked it in the side, ruining the targeted aim. Instead of tearing into her flesh the blades tore into the cushioned sofa, in which she had drawn the blaster from under, which was behind her. Snatching up a nearby lamp, she hurled it at the shadow, only for it to be sliced in half with ease as it ran, hardly making a sound, advancing swiftly.

Clutching her bleeding shoulder, she dashed away. The blood had already started to stain her blue nightgown, dying it a color of rubies.

I don't know what he wants. It appears that he's trying to kill me. But I can't be too sure.

Her heart raced. Pounded.

Instincts told her to suddenly duck.

She dove to the side just as the blade sliced shallowly into her arm, ensuring a short cry from her lips. Stumbling, she fell hard on her back. Face scrunched with pain, she held hold to the throbbing injury, crawling back and away from the shadow like figure.

The shadow stalked forward, eyeing its prey.

It suddenly dove at her.

Rolling to the side with a groan, she tumbled away and upward, grabbing hold dearly to a pillar.

The shadow was taking its time. Drawing things out. That much was noticeable.

Standing up straighter she dashed away, anywhere, to stall for something.

She rushed toward the edge of the veranda.

The ominous footsteps of the shadow stalked after her.

She darted forward.

The ominous footsteps increased in pace, growing faster.

She hastened past, almost to the edge, looking for something. Anything!

The footsteps sounded off as a full tilt sprint.

It bounded after her, grinning wickedly behind its black visor.

LUKE POV

They broke through the air.

Shattered the sky.

Were buffeted by the wind.

But everything bowed to the flight of such wings.

Latching onto them were little droplets.

Force presences running free.

Rain clung shakily.

His own heartbeat pounded in his ears. Talon's labored breath sounding out. The terror bird was exhausted.

"There's something more to this," he felt Talon whisper like the wind.

"I know," he got out, throat clenching up in a panic, body tensing.

Mother.

Mother.

Underneath him Talon's muscles strained from exertion.

They worked together, as one mind, not quite as one body. Still separate entities but being the same with the light of the force to forward the same goal through Luke himself and out to the one they sought.

Mother.

His body felt hot, warmer than usual. Still he shivered unintentionally out of all these rampant emotions he felt locked inside of him. Suppressed inside of him, struggling to clutch Talon's wet feathers with only one hand. But it wasn't because it was slippery; it was because his nerves were running crazily rampant. His body trembled, alert but weary.

Can't we go faster?

Nothing else mattered now. Nothing else would matter. He looked on and above and below at everything without seeing. It didn't matter. But she did. They did. I don't even know her. But I can't lose her. If I do- his throat choked up for a moment at the dreadful thought. If I do- he swallowed. Leia won't even exist. And that was something that he couldn't bear to live with. When he arrived here he took comfort in knowing that he and Leia would be born eventually. B-But if Padme, mother, dies she can't come into this world, as crazy as being here has been. I'm certain Leia enjoys living. Mom does too as well. I can't lose her either. That in itself would be horrible. Unbearable.

All through these thoughts he didn't even stop to think about himself…

OOO

The shadowy figure bounded after his mother.

Then it struck her.

He saw red.

Was it red out of pure raw emotion? Or red out of-

Ruby droplets spattered across his face, his mother collapsing right in front of him.

He hadn't even realized he had leapt from Talon to the veranda until he stood before her body lying motionless on the floor.

In shock.

He trembled. Ruby red blood slid daintily down his face.

Blood.

He was in pure shock and just stood there stupidly dumbfounded for some seconds.

Mother?

Padme?

He dropped to his knees and nudged her, confused. But all she did was fall limply against him like a rag doll.

Leia.

Blood began to coat his one hand.

"LUKE! Watch out!" Talon's shouted.

Head snapping up he shot back, skidding along the ground, just as an elongated blade grazed his nose.

The shadow stepped over his mother's body and ominously stalked toward him.

"You're the one who did this?" he growled.

The shadow stopped in its ascent forward, head tilting to the side in a sick gesture, watching him with that black visor on its helmeted face, his reflection staring back at him, and casually it commented, "Did what? Be more specific."

Then right before his eyes, with a flick of the wrist, the shadow carelessly flung the blade into his mother's untouched shoulder.

He saw red.

"You'll pay for what you've done!" he screamed, launching forward, flipping and igniting the blood red blade that cast blood red shadows on the walls. He drove the shadow back from his mother. Clashing blades with that black dagger. I will not stand to see someone mutilating my mother in front of me!

Fiery blue eyes grew darker.

"Talon, get Padme!" he shouted thrusting the shadowy figure back. An angry haze crept into his mind.

The shadow watched him closely.

He had the feeling its eyes were lingering a bit too long on where his right hand had been. Now where there was a bandaged covered stump.

Slipping suspiciously easily past his opponents guard he landed a blow straight to the being's armored side.

Suddenly the red blade extinguished with a hiss on contact, a silly puff of smoke coughed out from the hole.

What the-

His neck was ferociously grabbed. He found himself smashing into a table that shattered under the force of the impact.

"How-"he gasped, gripping his aching side. He had never come across something like this before. Even if he had he didn't remember at the moment.

"You think a silly little thing like that will hurt me," interrupted the shadow. "This is cortosis armor little boy. A stolen lightsaber will do nothing."

"And why is that?" he grimaced.

The shadow stepped lightly forward, making no sound. In a slight mocking tone it bloviated (gloated), "Since you inquired I have graciously chosen to enlighten your uneducated little mind little boy. Cortosis is an ore that can be molded into various weapons. It is a valuable resource. Cortosis armor can stop a lightsaber. A cortosis blade can deflect a lightsaber. Cortosis is immune to metal manipulation by the force. Cortosis can shut off one of your petty light swords for a time and make it stop functioning. But with enough effective strikes, your ineffective weapon of choice could cut through this armor, but don't even try; it will take far too long. The blade will shut down every time. By the time you ever manage to even make a mark you will be defeated. My great esteemed employer has the knowledge of where vast deposits of cortosis lie, and with it he will defeat all those who oppose."

All the while the shadow spoke he brought his body back up, swiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. It didn't do much but smear.

"And who's this employer of yours?"

"Isn't it past your bed time to be out here so late at night?" stated the monotonous voice, it sounded of dead leaves.

"Wha- No! Don't change the subject!"

In his peripheral vision he saw a tired Talon attending to his mother. That's good.

To his alarm the shadow was about to turn back toward the duo of whom he cared for.

I need to stall him somehow.

Gripping the black saber he attempted to reignite it, all it did was playfully cough out a puff of smoke in his face. Accidentally inhaling the smell was grotesque. I couldn't expect less from something of Sidious's I guess. Growling he stuffed it angrily in his pocket.

Abruptly the shadow sprinted away, bounding with undeniable speed toward the downed tired Talon and the fallen senator who was positioned leaning comfortably against the terror bird. With one elongated silver blade poised high, ready to strike, glowing eerily in illumination against the dazzling city's lights, the same lights that cast sparkling colors on Talons white pale canvas of feathers; the same lights that brightened the ruby puddles and pools of blood growing larger and painting more of the veranda; the same lights that illumined his strong determined eyes, the shadow darted at them like a menacing dark threatening blackness.

Six long drafty white pale curtains hung daintily against the pillars like tall specters. Ghosts.

Lifting his only hand, fingers spread wide; he sent all specters seizing the shadow. They wound and wrapped and held true; fluttering in a panic; flapping in a furry of white cristine sheets; they twirled round and round and round like prophetic dancers. Whipping wildly, erupting in sharp noises. They encroached the shadow, who tore wildly at the curtains, cutting and shredding with that daggerous blade, but it was for naught. They jerked, thrashing around their opponent as if in a fright, enclosing from all sides. Whizzing, writhing, flailing. Twisting and threshing in a wild and untamed and desperate protective hard manner. Rotating around the ghosts clutched at limbs. Revolved, rolled, and circled around. Incapacitating. Suffocating. Smothering, stifling in a dance controlled by Luke that was much suited to the dead. Swiveling around necks to helmeted faces to smother. Jolting rapidly around to stifle any movements. Narrowed blue eyes controlled the sheets of specters of long lonely ghosts to perform the dancing of an unnerving desperate dance around the antagonistic foe, instilling terror, out of their fast paced twisting of fright and hysteria, loud harsh whipping of cloth deafeningly sprang forth.

But what the sheets covered also hid.

What he hadn't taken in account for was that the sheets impaired his sight of the opponent.

The ball of curtains entangled his adversary until he couldn't make out any shape or form among the constantly moving suffocating jumble.

He waited.

His guard more lowered than usual, unfortunately. Some opponents however can't be done in so easily by menial tricks.

The shadow snarled, lunging at him. Breaking free of the whiteness like shattering glass, stark black contrast against those pale ghosts.

His eyes fractionally widened before he got beat into the floor.

Blood splattering.

He forced his aching body back up, only to find himself slammed viciously back into the ground by his opponent who proceeded to violently kick him. Blood filled his mouth. He contemptuously spat it out on the boot that rammed even harder into his chest. His exposed flesh erupted in aches and pains from each violent heartless punitive blow.

He groaned, gripping the unreliable black saber in his pocket that didn't reignite. Abruptly he was thrown back once again, slamming harshly into one of the pillars lining the veranda.

The shadow stalked closer to the collapsed body. Behind it the ghosts fluttered sadly the floor. "Give it up damaged little boy. I'm much stronger than you."

"I'm not damaged," he shot back with a scowl. I may be a bit beat up, I can take it, but not damaged.

The shadow's head tilted as if looking at something. He followed the gaze. Shockingly it led to his right arm. Specifically where the covered stub was. Now that was a rude awakening to a whole other issue. Does this guy mean-? No, he couldn't. He shook his head slightly to himself.

Damaged.

"What do you mean by that?" he grudgingly asked.

Damaged.

"I can infer already that you have connected the dots as to where my thoughts were going on to," was the reply. The shadow stood still, in place. Its voice suddenly turned to a more sinister mocking tone, "Now that I think on it where did your other hand go? Did it hurt little boy? Did you cry? Did you scream for your mommy and daddy when it got lopped off?"

No, he frowned, more like I screamed at him, my father, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, when he lopped it off . He glared in response but didn't say anything.

"That's none of your business," he growled after a moment.

"It doesn't matter you little cripple."

He made to get up, but slumped back down as a hot fiery sharp pain ran up his side eliciting a groan from his chapped lips.

The shadow stalked closer. Not making a sound. "You know, out of pity, I'll give you some pointers on what to do with that stump of yours. If you don't want to get stared at, you need to cover that thing up, or don't come out in public with that disgusting little stub. If you can't do that at least get a prosthetic. But judging by your raggedy appearance you may be even too poor for that. Aren't you street rat?"

Now that stung.

No one had ever said anything like that to him.

He glowered darkly at the tall black figure, reminiscent to a shadow, and glanced around the veranda for something.

The shadow stalked forward.

"Does that make you angry? Does that make you upset my impaired little friend? Now that I look much more closely at you I realize that it is such a shame. You could have grown up to be a pretty good looking guy. Maybe you will find someone out there who will truly love you in spite of your imperfection. "

"Since when did having all your limbs require for being good looking," he shot back.

"That is an uncertainty but from certain points of view what I said is proven true. There are some out there who believe that amputees are gross, most of the time when not wearing a prosthetic. That much should be obvious. But tell me this: why do we see people with severe burn injuries on their faces as disgusting or non-sexual? Because they are not attractive."

"Having burn injuries on one's face doesn't matter. Shouldn't matter." He thought of his father. It's how a person is on the inside that counts, isn't it. A beautiful person could look like the ugliest thing on the planet. But the ugliest person could be the most physically attractive on the planet. What we look like, what we appear like, is just a guise. A mask. A semblance. An image we project ourselves as. A lie or the truth, depending on what we do. So in the end, he remembered his father once more,having severe burn injuries, or any other imperfection, no matter how terrible or horrendous, doesn't and shouldn't matter one bit. It's our actions. And what we do for others, and for ourselves. What we believe. How we truly are.

His reflection was interrupted by that taunting derisive voice, "But it certainly isn't pretty. And neither are you with that blaring imperfection you basically wield around everywhere. I bet you do it to garner pity, is that it. No one wants to hear your sob story. "

Why do we judge each other so harshly like that? I have done this too, haven't I? I've thought like this too. Under different circumstances though. It can't be helped, can it?

"You don't know anything about me. Why do you judge me like that?" he asked quietly.

"Besides the facts that we're supposedly trying to kill each other I don't know my little crippled disabled damaged impaired amputee. An unholy, as some think, imperfection in the world as you are. Why don't you go kill yourself. All amputees are is a disease. They should all kill themselves."

No one should say something like that to someone else. His head bowed, staring holes in the ground.

"Fuck you."

The shadow paused in its ascent closer. "What was that cripple?"

"Fuck you," he spat out, head snapping up. Completely ignoring the hot fiery pain that just helped fuel these emotions he leapt up, staggering some, but leaned against the pillar behind him for leverage. He leveled the taller shadow with a determined blue gaze. "That's it. I've had enough of your crap. You may have hurt my mo- Padme, you may have hurt me, you may have cruelly insulted me, but now you've crossed the line. I won't stand by and just let you get away with saying stuff like that!" No one should say something like! "I am going to defeat you, for myself, to bring justice for what you have done, and for the honor of all amputees everywhere you sick fuck!"

"Oh really? How amusing," the shadow chuckled.

"Yes, really! And I don't need a lightsaber to do it!" he shouted digging it out of his pocket and throwing it away. "Get ready," he intoned, crouching down slightly. "Prepare yourself. Because I'm going to kick your ass in an instant!"

He pounced at the shadow. The rushing flow of blood coursed through him with each footfall. In turn the shadow bounded to him, elongated blade held high, poised, ready, glowing.

On impulse, his blue eyes, harboring a glow, shot to the side in their gaze. Using the force a table leg from the table he had shattered earlier shot into his only hand with a resounding smack. The prideful shadow rushed, swiping down, making to cut through the nonsensical weapon with ease. Smirking, he jerked to the side, body twisting to nearly unnaturally, and slammed the force imbued weapon to meet the blade. It struck hard; it hit home, sending jarring vibrations up his shoulder. Then before their eyes it shattered. He could feel that emotion radiating off his opponent. That shock. The elongated blade fractured and shattered before their eyes. With a yell, he plowed onward sending the shadow crashing across the room. Smashing into a table, demolishing it, and tumbling over the ghosts that lay still on the floor. He lowered the weapon. His lungs surging. A slight white glowing film had covered an enveloped the object, constantly moving and swirling in patterns. It was Luke's force energy, transferred into the unpowered table leg to create a weapon out of it. The anger radiating from the shadow was palpable through the air. He could feel it. A small part of him that he would later discover relished in it. The shadow rose, smoothly drawing two more elongated blades from compartments on its hips. These were similar to the others. Although made out of cortosis.

With a voice that sounded of dead leaves the shadow stated, "You cannot defeat me. Your Jedi trick won't work again."

In response he didn't say a thing, but sprint at the shadow.

They sparred dangerously back and forth. Countering. Deflecting. Vaulting. Circumventing one another. A loud clanging echoing throughout the room with each and every deathly strike. Luke of the light. Shadow of the dark. Looking like two entities twisting and turning and spinning around one another caught up in a dangerous dance in the midst of the room, stirring up the white ghosts at their feet.

They sparred back and forth. Losing his grip, wrist aching. Using his left hand had its downfall, being comfortable to using his right hand. He clumsily aimed at a leg. It was parried. He aimed at the helmeted head. The shadow gave no indication it knew of the attack. It was expertly evaded. Gripping the glowing swirling weapon, hand paling, he swiftly motioned to bash the armored ribs. The shadow sidestepped. Arching his back he avoided getting his face slit open. Blood still splattered the floor. With a twist and flick of its black armored wrist the table leg flew from his hand. Blue eyes widened at the sight. A single bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. The shadow gripped its knive like blades, holding them high overhead, like destiny itself, and plunged each down. Pure instinct to protect his exposed body ran over. Forearms crisscrossed over each other atop his chest. Then it came. In waves of power. He felt it, the light of Talon's presence surging into him in gallons, giving strength. His body felt like it was soaring. Having a missing hand didn't matter now. It couldn't inhibit with this power he received. Together, unconsciously, he pulled in all that energy, concentrating on his forearms. When those blades plunged down they were met with pure force resistance in an extraordinary form. The contact flung the shadow back by the sheer propulsion of his and Talon's combined power as one! There in that very moment. He looked to Talon, who was cradling Padme's body. Talon nodded slightly. He flashed the terror bird an open mouthed smile.

Both forearms glowed deeply with white light. He could feel the energy pulsing through the area, surging and creeping wildly. He could feel the force imbued parts shining a pale white light that emanated and cloaked the entire limb in a white moving misty film that glowed and curled and swirled around in white electric tendrils. He clenched his hand experimentally. The whiteness surged forth, flaring!

This is sooo cool!

The shadow was getting frustrated. Flustered! Extremely confounded. Even livid! The black armored figure snarled wrothfully. Then charged. Looking deeply at the rapid approaching opponent hurtling at full tilt he just stood there. Still. Blue eyes glowing, electrified. He was ready. The shadow hurled itself at him. Duel weapons brought up to the ready.

They clashed.

He relentlessly smacked and swung and walloped the shadow, again and again and again, repeatedly, insistently. A trail of white energy streaking swiftly in rapid turn behind each and every of his fluid liquid like movements. Another pulse of force energy soared into him from Talon tenderly, but powerful and impactful. He concentrated it on his legs, which became as effulgent, as gleaming, as his arms. Brain whirled in excitement, adrenaline pounded inside of him faster and quicker. He was forceful, tireless, vociferous in each shift of every muscle in ever part of his body. Striking up fast, foot colliding hard with blade, bringing hand down, meeting strait, impacting, with another blade below; he advanced constantly, throwing the shadow off its feet. It stumbled away. Hurtling, he surged up, twisting his body wildly, streaking white light twirling, ramming the shadow. Then bringing his body behind his enemy, driving his opponent back and around away from Talon and mother!

"Hiyahh!" he let out, pouncing in the air. The shadow unprepared for the furry of blows delivered as it attempted to hasten back, to retreat in vain and sheer panic. Then he drop kicked his opponent through a wall. Charging forward, limbs pumping, full out sprinting at the shadow he leapt up. His opponent hastily stuffed the blades away. Withdrawing a blaster, pointing it shakily at his advancing sailing figure, about to fire, when…

C3po walked right in between their confrontation.

What the- !

"C3po, Get the hell out of the way!" he screamed at the obnoxious droid.

The blaster fired off.

He dove forward, snatching C3po up bridal style just in time and lurching out of the way in a discharge of white light energy.

"Oh my," the stupid droid exclaimed in his glowing arms.

He fleetly carried the idiot droid and threw him into a different room. Closing and locking the door. Then obliterating the lock with the force: so the idiot wouldn't be able to get out.

He whipped around; the shadow was darting away and across the veranda.

His heart fluttered, stomach clenching painfully, a heavy weight settled itself on his chest.

Mother! Talon!

It was nearing them. Crossing his effulgent luminous bare arms over his chest, gathering energy, abruptly he pushed them forward and outward, releasing a huge great force wave, that violently lashed out in rivets of blue and white.

The shadow breathed out.

Scarcely turning.

"Incredible," the shadow barely gasped out before it was hit.

Blue energy, sizzling, snapping wildly, whipping, rippling in waves in light screamed and howled forward, in multitudes, with blinding speed, striking the shadow dead on and roughly flinging it to the ground like a limp rag doll.

It was a howling piercing cry so great and deafening that it shook and jarred every last individual as it soared out of the veranda to the outside world beyond. Lights in the city were extinguished and died by the thousands and everything went pitch black. Even he went pitch black as all the force imbued energy abandoned his limbs, leaving them tired, heaving, as they originally were. Talon had used his powers to negate the wave and protect Padme.

He inhaled sharply, wheezing.

It was quiet, deathly so, deathly silent, then he spotted a black silhouette dashing away.

Black spots danced across his darkening vision.

"No," he gasped so quiet. "You won't get away…" he barely whispered.

Not thinking, a sphere of restrained powerful untamed kinetic energy formed in the palm of his only hand as he stumbled forward. Pulling back, he flung it at the dashing figure that leapt over the edge of the veranda to get away. It illuminated the whole area; it illuminated the shadow for a second, in which that black helmeted visor turned slightly to gaze at him, before it was gone. The electrifying coruscating kinetite sailed over and out into darkness, illuminating, beaming like a star, before fading. Not hitting its intended target. Not hitting anyone.

He stayed like that, gasping out, arm still outstretched, reaching for nothing.

The moon shone brightly through the darkness.

In the moon itself the craters played illusions of a face that night in its dreary grinning hidden surface. An entity waited; hidden for many a year's more.

His gaze still stared out into the darkness.

Then he sighed, face morphing itself into a sulky expression, brow knitting itself into a knot of worry. He got away. What happens if he tries to come back and get Mother? He swayed slightly on his feet, then took in a deep shaky breath, and stumbled to where he felt where Talon's presence was. What am I going to do?

Oh wait-. I almost forgot.

Looking back he stretched his hand out behind him and called Sidious's lightsaber to his hand. It plopped comfortably into his grip and was slid it into a pocket. He shakily headed off to Padme and Talon.

In the very far distance of the vast enourmous city lights dotted and sprung to life once again, coming up like a newborn sun on a new day. Slowly the dots grew more frequent and shone their neon colorful dozy glows, sparkling in the aftermath of the brief shower that had now stopped altogether. Everything was fine now. Everything was safe now. Everything was good now, or so it seems, as that is how in different perspectives such a thing could always be seen to seem.

But what is seen and what it seems is nothing like the other.


(Hydra Note: If you have a problem or are uncomfortable or are offended in any way with the stuff said against amputees don't be afraid to tell me through a review or PM so I can then tone it down a little or see if I can do something about those parts. though that would lower the intensity of the chapter and the whole message a bit and nullify one of the reasons why Luke kicked that guys but. Anyways amputees are not disgusting or weird, they are people and are alive too just as we are. And just so you know everyone: be nice to others, even if you hate them, try. And never tell someone to kill themselves because that is kinda cruel, I think... hehehehehehehehe... I'll most likely update this weekend... heehehehhe... see ya... : )