Chapter 13:
A/N: Thank you so much to Forever-Luke, I Love Dance, MrsSkywalker, Glace96, and Arya of Ellesmera for reviewing!! It make me so happy to read reviews :)
The uniformed officers pushed Leia through a low pair of carved doors into a small stone chamber. It was dimly lit, and her eyes needed a few moments to adjust. When they did, she took in the outline of a slight figure, slumped in bindings that chained him to the wall.
"Don't try anything," said the tallest officer coolly. "This room is under surveillance."
Once the door had slid closed, Leia dropped to her brother's side.
"Luke," she said quietly. He didn't stir.
Leia stood in front of him, studying him as best she could in the near-darkness. She brought a hand up to touch the side of his face, and gasped in surprise. It came away wet.
She was reflexively glancing down at her hand when the illumination brightened. Leia's bloodied hand and her brother's limp form was thrown into sharp relief, revealing the gashes and burns on his chest and arms, leaving barely any part of his skin unmarked. There were bruises on his face, and several cuts framing the right side of his still features. Blood trickled out of his mouth and down his neck.
"Luke," she repeated, more insistently. The faint rise and fall of his battered chest comforted her only slightly.
She considered for a moment that he might be better off asleep. The restraints wouldn't help any, pulling on his mangled arms and forcing him down to an awkward sitting position, kneeling on one knee with the other, obviously broken, splayed out beside him.
The door slid open behind her, and she turned. It took no small amount of her diplomat's control to avoid recoiling in shock. The cloaked man standing next to her had the most hideous face she had ever seen, surpassing even Darth Vader if measured by sheer repulsiveness. Chilling orange eyes stared out from terrible features twisted in malice.
"He won't awaken," he informed her coldly. "Not unless I want him to."
"Who are you?" Leia asked defiantly.
"My name is Lord Cinerate." The man, if that's what he was, smiled. "But I wouldn't be so impolite to the one who holds your brother's life in his hands." He took a quick step forward, and before Leia could begin to react, placed an open hand on Luke's bloodied shoulder.
His eyes flew open.
Leia did gasp then, shocked. Luke's eyes were dull and glazed with agony. They did not blaze with the empathy and compassion that inspired him to keep at the cause, or the enjoyment that lit up his large blue eyes when her children climbed into his lap and asked for a fourteenth game of Bantha Bash – there was only pain and exhaustion.
As Cinerate's hand lit up with lightning, Luke's face contorted in agony and he cried out, a single strangled gasp.
Leia threw herself at Cinerate, but he immobilized her with barely a flick of his fingertips. Luke shuddered in the grip of the red haze of energy, and she could only watch him suffer.
But after only a moment, Cinerate released them both. Leia dropped to her knees, but scrambled to her feet. To her utmost surprise, Cinerate waved his hand to release the restraints, and Luke slumped to the floor, still conscious, too pained to make a sound.
"The two of you may return to your cell," Cinerate told them magnanimously. "I'll send our new medic over at once."
Darth Cinerate sat back in his straight-backed chair, admiring the sculpture. It was a replica of the Marnia, the former capitol building of Xandra. That was, before the government had grown too bold and been overthrown by the Sith. The reproduction was constructed entirely of precious metals and luminous stone, worth as many credits as the original building. To Cinerate's eye, it looked nicer than the original as well.
His apprentice entered. Cinerate smiled.
"Dear Lunara," he began. "I have excellent news."
For a moment, Lunara didn't appear to be remotely pleased. However, her face quickly reformed itself into an appropriate expression of delight.
His apprentice's momentary slip was another sign that he had made the right decision. That and the fact that she was no longer quite as fanatically loyal as Cinerate would have wished.
He leaned forward slightly. "As you are likely aware, I have spent the last few months researching. Though I did not tell you what I was looking for, I was considering the right moment to impart this knowledge onto you." He paused a moment to prolong the suspense and enjoy the uncertainty she was attempting to conceal. "An ancient ritual, used by many of the great Sith Lords to attain power."
He watched Lunara's eyes widen.
"No doubt you have been wondering why I have not started draining Organa."
Lunara bowed her head slightly, reddish hair shifting.
"She will serve as a power sources in the ritual. Skywalker is most important, of course, but there is no reason to keep Horn." He smiled. "Since our relationship will grow so greatly, I thought that we should keep nothing from each other. So do you have anything to tell me?" That one was solely for his own amusement. He had no doubt that his apprentice had more secrets than Jabba the Hutt used to have dancers. Of course, he was choked to death by one of them.
But at last, Lunara showed some proper acting skills. She merely gazed up at him innocently. "No, my lord. Nothing at all."
"Very well, I hadn't thought so. In that case, you're dismissed."
She backed out of the room.
A shape materialized from a dark corner and formed itself into the shape of a dark-haired, muscular man. His name was Ronas Cirth, and he was to be Darth Cinerate's new apprentice.
"She does not know that there will be a third sacrifice," Cinerate remarked to his student. But then again, Ronas did not know the true purpose of the ritual either.
In reality, there was no ritual. He had told Ronas that he intended to drain the Force power of the prisoners then use part of it to overpower Lunara's mental defenses and drain her power as well. But instead of using it to power a ritual, he would use it to forge pathways in Ronas's mind to give Cinerate complete control. Ronas not be able to resist any command, and Cinerate would no longer have an apprentice that could betray him.
Cinerate turned to the Marnia again. The Sith had constructed the new governmental building from solid durasteel, and it still stood today.
When Fel stepped into his quarters, he was met with an unfortunate sight.
Syal was perched at the very edge of their bed . . . with a blaster pressed into the small of her back by none other than the apprentice of Darth Cinerate.
"Lady Lunara?" Fel asked, injecting a note of disbelief in his voice. "What is this? When Cinerate hears that you have betrayed him and attacked his–"
"Don't bother," Lunara said. "I have video evidence of your corroboration with the prisoners. Quite ingenious. But Fel, you couldn't really have thought that you were the only one who knew Mon Calamari blink code."
"So, now what?"
"I want you off this rock. I am proposing that we work together and make that happen." She narrowed her slanted eyes further. "And you really don't have a choice in the matter, so it wasn't actually a proposal."
Fel gave her another look of disbelief. "You're switching sides, just like that?"
Lunara grimaced. "Let's just say that Cinerate won't need me anymore if he – oh, never mind. Like I said, you don't have any other options."
"Why don't you just kill Skywalker and Organa Solo?"
"There is no way that I can get away with that," Lunara told him impatiently. "I can't use Solo as a scapegoat. There is no way he would have the guts to end Skywalker's suffering, not to mention prevent Organa's. There's a chance Cinerate might believe he's clever enough to escape with them, though, particularly with your and your wife's help."
Fel nodded reluctantly. "I guess we don't have much of a choice."
Lunara withdrew the blaster. "So, what's the plan?"
"We could holocomm Coruscant," Syal ventured. "I don't know how much use normal troops would be against the Sith, but perhaps we could contact the Jedi."
Lunara snorted derisively, but Fel ignored her. "Do you have access to a holocomm unit?"
"Yes, but that's not the point. The Jedi won't be able to take over Xandra, and I'm not so keen on them invading us."
Fel frowned. "How many Sith do you have here?"
"Thirty or forty fully trained, and perhaps half that many students. Plus, they have virtual control over the government and its ground troops."
"The Jedi Order might be small," Fel reasoned. "However, they have at least twice that many. And the New Republic wouldn't have any trouble sending forces to rescue the Chief-of-State.
"And in any case, the Sith are fighting on home ground," Lunara pointed out. "Also, we are more ruthless than the Jedi, and more willing to use . . . innovative tactics. They'll be able to fight better."
"Luke Skywalker has triumphed over them more than once," Fel argued. "Granted, he isn't exactly in top condition right now, but we can balance that out with the fact that the Sith don't know that we're not on their side. We can mislead and sabotage them."
Lunara still looked dubious. "That's what the Rebels always say about fighting the Sith. Look at Luke Skywalker. I doubt he's as immortal as they say he is, but I know the rest of them can't match his skill." She sighed. "But I suppose I don't have a choice either. We'll make the call tonight. I guess it won't be hard to set up camp somewhere else."
She stood up, making a quick decision. "It need to be fast. Darth Cinerate plans to perform a ritual that will supposedly bestow him with invincible power. We'll have to figure out see how fast the New Republic can get the Jedi here, hopefully without being too noisy about it. Cinerate could always decide to move up his timetable for the ritual."
Fel nodded. "Let's make the call."
"I'm afraid it's simply not possible," Acting-Chief-of-State Fey'lya informed Wedge, a note of condescension in his smooth voice.
Commander Antilles wasn't planning on giving up, but things were not looking good. "Commander Skywalker and the others are counting on us," he argued. "How can we abandon them?"
"The Solos weren't too concerned about help when they took off without seeing fit to inform us as to their plans," Fey'lya countered. "If they believed they needed help, why didn't they talk to anyone?"
"They needed to leave in secrecy! I would that it is obvious that there are some who don't have Luke Skywalker's safety at the top of their priority list. Perhaps they believed that any delay could lead to his rescue being put off for a fatal amount of time. And anyway, the point is irrelevant considering the fact that they sent us an encoded message through the Holonet asking for help!"
Wedge didn't have any hope that Fey'lya would change his mind, but his plan was to incite the members of the meeting to back him up. It was a small gathering, made of mostly Fey'lya's supporters, though, and he didn't have much faith in that plan either. But if enough political pressure was put on the Bothan Senator, perhaps he would cave.
"They sent you a message asking for help. We, on the other hand, just can't risk the troops, Commander Antilles. We would be sending them into a hostile, unknown situation. We don't even know if they sent the message under duress."
Wedge gave him a final cold stare, aware that he would get no further with this tactic. "Very well," Wedge conceded. "But when the HoloNet hears about this," he continued. "I can't imagine they'll laud us for abandoning their heroes. And if you ask the troops, I don't think they'll have much objection to entering an unknown situation to rescuing Commander Skywalker, General Solo, and the Chief-of-State. They would possibly even consider it their duty."
Fey'lya's ears flattened threateningly. "Are you planning on having the HoloNet informed on this emergency situation, Commander? Might I remind you that your oaths as a military officer of the New Republic prohibit you from leaking classified information?"
"Then I resign," Wedge responded sharply. "I can't talk about anything that was revealed to me as an officer of the New Republic, but I didn't come here as an officer of the New Republic. I came here as a friend of the Solos and Luke Skywalker, relaying their message."
Fey'lya leaned forward. "I do not accept your resignation, Commander Antilles. At his words, armed guards moved to flank Wedge.
"You're planning on arresting me, Fey'lya?" Wedge asked icily, but without any real surprise. Fey'lya's moral navigation system had been calibrated several degrees off, but his sense of self-preservation was still right on the mark.
"To the contrary, I'm giving you time to consider the wisdom of your decision, Commander." Fey'lya smiled. "I would hate for you to make any reckless and ill-advised choices."