Author's Note and Thanks: I am so very sorry for the long pause in updates. Things have been hectic at work, and I got bit by another story that demanded most of my attention. Now that it's out of the way, I will be devoting more time to finishing this one. I do apologize for my long silence. It was not my intention to let this story go so long iwthout an update or anything. Things just have a tendency to get out of hands at times, you know? I offer my sincerest apologies for the shortness of this chapter and want to warn my readers that some of the things that happen in it may make one feel very rather uncomfortable. Unfortunately, this is what Anakin is going through at the moment. I thank all of my patient readers and reviewers for their long suffering with me as I've muddled through both RL and my work to write this story. Thanks especially to, Booklover Fanatic, Project Dark Overlord, Mekaratanshu, and AquaRias. Thanks for the encouragement and your patience. I am trying to get this work done, I just can't say when it will be completed. I just know that it will be.
WARNING: The things that happen in this chapter, I've been told, can make one feel sick to their stomach. It is very disturbing what Anakin is going through. Please, be aware that there is some dark imagery (if that's even the word I'm looking for) going on as he's being held by these beings.
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Anakin blinked, trying to focus, and then his eyes went wide as he was flung into a dark place. The sand slammed into his skin, tearing into it like glass. It was sand unlike any he'd ever encountered-and hurt far worse than the burning sands of Tatooine. Roaring filled his ears and he shook his head, trying to clear it.
The sound only grew louder, harsher, more intense.
Sharp pain lanced through his mind as he tried to build shields against it. Stumbling to his feet, he reached blindly out for support and found only more sharpness, more pain. More confusion surrounded him in this dank, unfeeling place and he felt frustrated with his inability to find stillness within, to find peace as he had learned to.
Anger dampened his vision as weakness continued to dog him. Tired and sore, pained and confused by all that had happened to him, he let it fill him. Let all that had happed to him in the past few days – no, the weeks since arriving on Tatooine come back to him. He wanted his mother's comforting smile and the laugher of his new found family. He wanted his Master back in his mind – where he belonged, not far from away from him. Anything, he'd give anything to hear Obi-Wan scolding him for something, all the while gracing him with his silent and steady affection.
And it would not come back to him for these…these insolent, wretched pigs stole it all away from him. They stole it from him as though his family, his home was nothing to them. As though he was still a slave for others to play around with. As though he did not matter. The sheer arrogance of their assumption chilled him, enraged him.
Just who did they think they were anyway?
Waves of frustrated anger emanated from him, focused and slammed into the walls around him. Strength flowed into him suddenly and he found that he could push back the pain. That he could use his rage to protect his mind from it all. Standing upright in the middle of the unknown, he looked around him and saw eyes in the darkness, thousands of hungry, glowing eyes staring down at him.
The thought came to his mind that they were devouring him.
Lashing out, he was exalted to see the eyes go dark. His smile was positively gleeful as he heard what he thought were shrieks of agony. Good, he thought vindictively, they deserve it. They deserve far worse than this for what they have done to me. Another wave of power erupted from him, smashing past more barriers and the structure shook, rocked beneath his feet. More screams sounded, this time from much farther in the ship, much farther away from him.
'I love you…'
The words came into his mind and he stopped at the sound, appalled at what he'd done. His hands dropped to his side as he clearly heard Obi-Wan's voice in his mind, surrounding him. Tears came into his eyes at how easily he'd given in. How easily he'd failed his Master. He had failed to be true to his Master's belief and love in him. Had failed to hold to the faith his Master had in him.
Sinking to his knees, shaking with regret, he bowed his head, unwilling to let these beings see them. See the tears he was shedding. Shivering sobs of regret tore out of him. Chocked and silent in the room, made all the more agonizing for this silence. Master, he pleaded, trying to reach out for him, though he knew it was futile. Hopeless to receive an answer, forgive me for this weakness. I'm sorry – so sorry.
The blow to his right side left him gasping for breath, as did the repetitive kicks that followed. He only curled about himself, unwilling to rise and fight. After what had just happened, he couldn't take the chance that it wouldn't happen again. It had been so easy, far too easy, to yield to that anger that grew in him. He just couldn't fail Obi-Wan again.
If only he could think…
"Get up, you fool of a Jedi. Get up," a decidedly female voice snarled at him. Grasping his braid, she jerked his head, watching as it bobbed. Letting go, she used all the strength in one hand to shove him over, watching him slam into the wall. "You do no credit to your Order. Weakling." Her taunts flew at him, fast and furious, like her blows.
Finally, his head rose and he stared at her, haunted eyes chilling her. "I would be a worse failure if I were to fight you like this. You are in the same place as I." His voice was lackluster, speaking volumes as his head dropped back down, crawling into his mind once more.
The fighter was enraged by this and Force slammed him into the wall again. She beat him, trying to get him to move, to fight back. And he would not, slipping at last into a bloody sleep. Dropping to her knees, she whispered in his ear, "I will break you, boy Jedi, for only then will I find my peace."
Anakin twitched, hearing the words. But he was lost to it, searching for his light. It had to be there somewhere. After all, they had both used the Force. She to hurt him. And he to hurt the strangers about him. Hadn't they? Master, are you there?
The scientist growled, frustrated. Even Aurra was surprised by his resiliency after that first slip up. It was unusual, admirable even. "What just happened in there?" she asked – demanded – stalking off to think. "Leave him," the order was snapped out as the guards made to move him from the arena into the pen.
"But no one has ever stayed in the arena. It's lethal," he protested automatically. The amber eyes flared briefly, feeling the repercussions in the room. But the euphoria was flawed by the hint of something else that he did not understand.
"Are you questioning me? Because you can easily join him," she said, whirling about to look at him, challenging him to defy her. They stood there, tense with silence in the hallway, neither looking away. She held him pinned with her icy gaze, allowing him no reprieve. The minutes ticked by and she did not move, staring at him with depthless eyes.
Finally, she spoke again. Her voice was emotionless, precise – perfect in pitch and tone. He flinched back, feeling every inch like the idiot child she was addressing. "That boy is your meal. He is the best source of food for you right now. Ventress is almost used up. If the treatment does not take soon, he will be of no use for you and your people. Do you wish that? Do you wish to starve?"
Without waiting for his answer, she turned and went back to her lab.
Aurra followed after her more slowly, feeling something being snapped within her. There was heat and passionate rage…then there was silence. "Mother," she whispered, shocked at the loss of the constant, quiet companion she'd always had. And though her heart was hard with hatred for the woman who had so easily betrayed her. For the fact that she had so easily abandoned her to this life that her anger remained keen even to this day, she felt tears fall down her cheeks.
Her mother was gone – gone by the hands of one who had no right to take her away.
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Anakin shivered, awakening slowly, cold beyond belief. Beyond any recollection he'd ever had, even when he'd been surrounded by the permanent snows of Ilum, he'd not felt this cold. The chill seeped into him, freezing the very heart within him. He hadn't been this cold – ever. The fire inside that had always burned within him was silent and still. It was there, he knew it was there somewhere, and prodded about, trying to search for it in his memory, trying to recapture that warmth.
Shivering again in the cold, he turned his thoughts inward to where it had always been. Blazing no longer like the suns, it was dark and cold inside. Quite dead in fact. Curling even tighter about himself, he stayed still, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.
You are meant for the dark, child. Haven't you realized this yet, bright though you are? The dark and no other will accept you with all your imperfections and oddities. You, child, are not normal. You are a hideous blight. A disgrace – a waste of space and the light does not want you. It cannot bear to see you.
Anakin gulped, trying to ignore the sibilant voice that spoke to him from every corner of his mind.
That whom you call angel fears you and does not think you worthy of even the minimalist of looks. She laughs at your foolish fancy over her. Your childish look and mocks your pathetic infatuation with her. An angel would never look upon a demon such as you with anything but revulsion. You are nothing to her.
No, he denied, shaking his head slightly, no. Briefly he wondered if he could clasp his hands about his ears and drown out the voice, crush it out of his head if he pressed down hard enough. His own fears had been this but he'd seen Padmé's kindness, her friendly affection. She was not like this at all. She couldn't be.
Yes – yes. And your mother is ashamed of you. In her yes, you are an embarrassment. A mark of her shameful past. She sent you with the Jedi to be rid of you and your troublesome ways. To be rid of your fits and starts, your ridiculous beliefs about yourself.
Whimpering away, tears escaped his eyes as his head shook earnestly now. Trying to wake himself up, he felt the ground scrape his skin, fearing that this was no dream – but real. No, he denied, more firmly for he knew his mother. Knew that she loved him, not true. Never true of his mother – it was love. Her love for him had given her the strength to let him go, to be free.
Love – not shame.
Then why did she never write to you? Why did she not visit you? Why did she never try to reach you after she was freed?
She didn't know that she could, he determinedly fought back. There was no weakness in his own tone, his own feelings. I was safe, I was with the Jedi. My mother knew this, knew that I had a new life. She did not write to me to allow me to be at peace, to allow me to start a new life, away from the bad memories of slavery.
You could be right there. She might not have wanted to burden you.
Anakin despised the supercilious tone in that voice. Hated the sound of assurance the voice had that he was only a foolish boy for believing in his mother. A child that did not know anything at all – those who were his peers had often treated him the same way.
Then may be it's Cliegg who hates you, despises you for being the first in her life. May be he resents you for existing. Do you think he would have freed you with her had you still been there? Somehow, I think not. All you are is trouble and a terrible blemish upon the lovely woman he calls wife and lover.
Cliegg's genial face flashed before him, suddenly harsh and unwilling to see him as anything more than a distasteful part of his wife's life. Distrust darkened Cliegg's eyes as he stared at him, telling him without words that he was unwanted, that he was worthless. Anakin flinched back from the sight, finding no words to use to fight back.
All he could do was shake his head in denial.
And Owen surely does not appreciate you coming into his life, taking his place in Shmi's life. That place of honor in her heart – to be called beloved son – is not your own. It never has been. You aren't fit to be hers, you know. He is the true son of her heart – and deserves it more than you do.
Stop, he pleaded, just stop.
As for Beru, I would imagine that she must be terrifically offended to be marrying into a family that has you attached to it. While she may find you pleasant to look at, that is all you really have going for you. You are worthless, they all can see it.
The door opened and a figure appeared, walking towards him. At first he thought his salvation was here. A hand grasped his hair and yanked, pulling him upright. Slamming him face first into the wall, he blinked out of his stupor and tried to look over his shoulder, meeting an angry glare. "What?" he started to ask, voice slurred from the blows he sustained.
Her knee slammed into his upper back. Her free hand yanked his Padawan braid, hissing angrily into his ear as she wound it through her fingers. "Your worthless, pathetic, Sithspawn of a Master stole her life as though it was his right. It was not. That right was mine – and mine alone."
The snarl of rage chilled Anakin even as the thin, jagged knife tore a line down from his ear and towards his spine, digging in more deeply as it traveled along. Warm blood soaked into his clothes, bringing with it fresh pain and a light headed feeling of elation. Was his agony truly going to end with his death? The thought traveled through his mind, causing him a giddy feeling of both relief – and despair. To die here, in a place so full of hate, without anyone he loved beside him, it was a tragic thought.
And yet, to spare them this sight, it would be a good thing.
But his Master was coming to rescue him. His Master…the thought caused a bolt of fear to shoot through him. If this fiend got her hands on him, what would she do to his beloved Master? He had to stop her, had to fight her somehow.
With her knee smashed into his lower back and her hand tight on his braid, easily keeping him pinned against the wall, there was nothing he could do. His hands thrashed about uselessly, unable to find the strength to push away from the wall and free himself for he would not indulge in letting go of the anger that boiled within him.
As much as he wished to save Obi-Wan, he couldn't do it by using the anger. Could he? Should he?
"I should carve you up for him to find," she purred out the idea, tearing at his thin shirt, unremitting in her slow attack, though the sight of his red blood tempted her. It teased her senses and she idly wondered what it would look like, spilled across the sands. "Would you like that? To be nothing more than bait to bring that wretch to his death?"
The dark screamed for release, begged to get revenge – to shut her up. He bucked, twisting against her hold – causing the tight grip to loosen incrementally.
"Release him, Sing," a voice ordered. "Or take his place."
"No," she said. "He must pay for what happened."
"Then you will take his place."
Growling indecisively, she finally stood back. The woman would do exactly as she said. She would see to it that Aurra herself was placed in the arena. Spitting on his fallen body, she pushed past the scientist, "I thought you wanted him broken," she snarled as the woman followed her.
"Broken, yes. Killed because you are a foolish and unwise woman, no," she icily retorted. "Fight him in the arena for the others to feast upon if you must engage in senseless acts of pugilism but leave the toy alone if you cannot control your rage. The Lady will not be pleased to lose him so easily."
"I thought she was a fool."
"She is – but she is correct about the boy. If you can break him into accepting the modifications, fine. If you can't without killing him, I don't want you near him. He is food – and breeding material. We are not coming back to this area of space for at least a thousand years."
"Fine," she sneered.
The scientist turned her back on the assassin and resumed her work. She picked up a small tube of a red, glowing fluid. It sloshed a little, bubbled up before settling down again. Her nose twisted up distastefully at the thought, but the boy was recalcitrant. "Aurra, what do you know of lunar red?"
"It's a drug, why?" she replied, still teaming with resentment.
"No reason – except that it is a powerfully addictive drug. I wonder…" her words trailed off and she focused on the wall that now divided her from the boy's cell. "I wonder," she repeated faintly.
As if sensing the impending threat, Anakin shivered. Master, where are you? How are you? Are you scared for me? I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid of what you may face. Help me, Master. I need you. I love you.