A Life Not His Own: Chapter 22

Anakin carries Nelani from the Tachyon Flier into Centerpoint itself. He cradles her body against him, her feverish skin, hot and sticky against his bare chest. He reaches out with the Force, finding the viruses once more multiplying in her body, and pushes against them, suppressing them with the Force, and where he is able, killing them.

A low growl comes from his throat as he stalks through the station, trying to remember where he needs to go. He comes to a passage way, and her body hitches, as she groans in pain.

Anakin closes his eyes, and roughly blows out his breath. He looks left and right, and sees the same featureless doors for as far as the eye can see, and not a single sign. Another growl, and this time he is surprised that it came from him. Which way?

A gentle prompting and he turns right, rushing down the hallway. Then he sees the sign, the simple icon which has become universally recognized as a medic station.

He enters and a grin twists his lips. There before him is a fully functional bacta tank. He sets Nelani on one of the medical beds, and activates the bacta tank. The he sets about, stripping Nelani, and getting her into the short medical clothes designed for the tanks. He runs a hand down her cheek, wincing at the gaunt, stretched skin which is heat blasted from fever.

He feels a tear trickle down his cheek. He sees the tear as it splashes against her nose.

“Don’t you dare die on me.”

He waits a second, hoping, praying for a reply. When it doesn’t come, he kisses her forehead gently, and then lifts her up, carrying her up the ramp to the second level. He opens the bacta tank, and places the face mask on her, and gently slides her into it, not bothering to put on the rest of the medical monitoring devices. He leaves the top open, and walks down to the front of the tank, and presses his hand against it, even as he feels more tears slipping down his cheeks.

His comunit chirps, and a gravely voice comes from it. “Lord Vader?”

He activates the unit. “Yes, Ghrikma?”

“We have arrived.”

“Good, deploy on level twenty-three, section fifty-five. Then meet me on level forty, section 102.”

“We obey Lord Vader.”

The com dies, and Anakin presses his hand on the tank once again.

Then he walks from the room, heading towards the control center. He arrives at the control center. As soon as he steps into the room screens spring to life, showing him things. He closes his eyes, and walks to a station by instinct. This is the oddest of the gifts he has been given, the one which astounds, and frightens those around him the most. That instinctive understanding of not just machinery, but how things are put together. How they work, how they can be improved.

His sister is a mechanic, she is able to devise, and repair. Restoration is her clarion calling. And she is good at it. His brother is the empath. He feels, and understands, not just people and other sentients, but nonsentient animals as well.

But himself, he is the creator. He knows all there is to know about something, just by focusing upon it. While he may not understand what it is he knows, while he may not comprehend it in its entirety. He knows.

He opens his eyes, and reaches out towards the console, as an interface flows up out of the blank surface in front of him. He grips the handle and grins, feeling the station coming alive around him once more. He knows that his actions will have alerted the populace of Corellia to his presence, but he does not care.

He focuses, and understands. Forty-five totha and he can fire Centerpoint. While he does not know exactly how long a totha is, that does not matter, for Centerpoint wil tell him. He drops into a meditation, waiting for some reply from the station, occasionally touching Nelani through the Force, seeing if she is getting better. His despair grows at every touch, as she seems to be slipping further and further away, slipping deeper and deeper into the healing trance.

A chime sounds in his soul, and he opens his eyes. He glances at one of the monitors scattered randomly around the room. On it is a red star destroyer. He checks to see how long he has left before he can fire. As the timer nears zero, his grin grows bigger. He enters the coordinates from memory, and smiles as a real-time sensor view of Mrykr appears on a monitor, for there around it is a worldship. He makes a request of the system, determining if his plan is feasible.

When he gets the feeling of an affirmative from the machine, he instructs Centerpoint Station to cause Myrkr’s star to go nova.

A wave of satisfaction rolls through him, and he glances at the local sensors, seeing the Jade Shadow on a fast approach. Frowning, Anakin focuses on the second part of his plan, working out the necessary calculations.

Minutes later, he glances into an interior scanner, and sees Luke leaving the med center where he had left Nelanie. He flicks on the intercom.

“Go away Uncle Luke.” He almost chuckles as he watches Luke spin around on the monitor. “Just get off the station, and leave. We don’t need you here.”

Luke looks up at the security cam, almost as if he is staring directly at Anakin. “Well I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Anakin pushes a button on his comlink, activating the droids. “Please Uncle Luke? I didn’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t Anakin. Come back with me.”

Anakin frowns, wondering where his uncle gets his unending supply of optimism from. “I can’t. Not until I’ve had my revenge.”

Anakin watches as the droids take up position beyond Luke. Luke laughs. “Do you really think that they’ll stop me?”

Anakin glances back to his calculations, then to the security monitor to see Luke set in an attack stance. “Just leave Uncle Luke. Let me finish what I’ve started.”

“I can’t do that.”

Anakin sighs, and turns off the intercom, and goes back to his calculations. They are finally finished, and Anakin sets into play his second part of the plan. Then he gets up from the control chair, and returns to the main passage way. He stands in the darkness about a hundred meters away from Luke, and he activates his saber, as he watches Luke battle the cortosis covered Phase III Dark Trooper.

Within moments Luke wins, and starts walking towards him once more. Anakin stands and waits, the thrum of his saber sounding deafening in his ears. He closes his eyes, wondering why it has come to this.

“Anakin.”

He opens them, and finds himself staring into a pair of eyes which has always reminded him of his own. “Hello Uncle Luke.”

“It’s time to come home, Anakin.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow. “There are still Vong out there to kill uncle. They don’t deserve to live.”

“That’s not your call to make.”

“Yes it is! They killed Tahiri! Now I get to kill them all!” Anakin pulls his saber up slightly.

“I know Tahiri’s death hurt you Anakin, but is this how you deal with it? Do you think she would have wanted you to fall because of her?”

“I loved her!”

Luke holds his free hand out to Anakin. “I know. Believe me I know. But giving into your hate is not the way to honor her.”

“How do you know? You don’t understand what I’m going through!”

Luke lets out a short brittle laugh. “You know better than that Anakin. I know you do. I felt you trying to give Mara strength after Ben was born, when she was dying. I felt that surge of grief when she did.”

Anakin’s saber lifts slightly higher. “That’s just another debt the Vong have to pay for.”

Luke sighs as he raises his saber into a mid-guard. “I’m sorry it has come to this Anakin. But I will stop you.”

Anakin raises his saber as well, hate filling his face. “You will try.” They stare at each other, neither quite willing to move first, both knowing that it has to be them that does so.

They are Master and Apprentice.

Family in ways above and beyond the mere blood which connects them.

They have both fought, and bled for the galaxy.

Each has lost the woman he loves to the Yuuzhan Vong.

In another time, another place, they would fight side-by-side. But here and now where one is consumed by his pain, and the other unable to help him due to his own, they fight one another.

Unable to stop the anger, the hate, Anakin moves.

Their sabers collide, a crashing sound, harsh and electric. As the sabers hum against one another, Anakin feels his anger pulsing, while Luke feels sorrow growing.

Anakin pulls back, and sends his saber in low, slicing at Luke’s feet. Luke jumps, Force pushing himself up and over Anakin. Luke lands behind him, and Anakin twists around, slicing at the midline.

Luke’s blade is there, stopping Anakin’s and then flips around and twists, coming in towards the young man’s head.

Anakin parries, and kicks his foot out, catching Luke’s knee. He pulls back before the knee breaks, and swings his sword in a powerful two-handed slice. Luke catches Anakin’s blade, and then slams a Force wall into the young Knight.

Anakin flies through the air, landing and skidding to a stop. He lets out a grunt of pain as he collides with the bulkhead of the passageway.

He stands, his anger flowing out of control, and then jumps towards Luke once more. He lands two meters shy of the Jedi Master, and runs the rest of the way in. His saber flickers to the left and right, staying tsill for mere moments before going to the next attack.

For minutes, his blade continues to flicker back and forth in that fashion. Luke’s blade is always there to stop Anakin’s attack.

Call it luck, call it the Force, it makes little difference to either of the combatants, but Luke’s saber misses one of Anakin’s strikes. The smell of burned flesh fills the passageway, as a wound appears on Luke’s arm.

Anakin gives a feral grin, as his attacks increase, as they become harder and faster. As he gives into his anger and hate more and more.

Luke makes a second mistake, and Anakin slices across Luke’s legs, and then twists his saber up and through Luke’s saber. Slicing through the emitter array, causing the weapon to sputter and die in an explosive array of sparks. The Jedi Master falls to the ground a groan of pain coming from him. Anakin steps forward, his saber lifting. “Why couldn’t you have just left?”

He brings his saber further up, preparing for a killing blow. His uncle stares up at him impassively, accepting. “I had to bring you home.”

Then there is a scuffle from behind him. He hears a voice, one that almost sounds like an angel.

“Anakin, this isn’t the way.”

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Green.

Everything is green.

As she slowly regains consciousness, that single overriding fact flicks through her mind over and over again.

Her eyelids flutter, sluggish in the fluid which surrounds her. Her hands go up, and touch the mask covering her face. The cloying scent still in her nose.

Bacta.

She is floating in Bacta. She looks around, wondering where Anakin found a Bacta Tank on the worldship. She thinks back, trying to remember, but the last thing she does remember is cresting the hill on the worldship and looking down upon the slave city. She looks up, and sees that the top is opened. She kicks off, and finds herself at the top of the tank in seconds. She grabs a hold of the edge of the platform, and pulls herself out. She grabs a towel and wipes away the excess bacta, and carefully walks down the ramp. She finds her clothes in a pile by the bed, and picks them up. She sighs when she sees that they are ruined, and looks down to see that she is wearing what amounts to something in between exercise clothes and underwear.

Feeling distinctly underdressed; she snaps her utility belt into place, the heft of her saber comforting on her hip. She presses her palm against the activator plate, happy at the sound of a metallic door opening.

She steps out of the room, and looks left and right. Her eyebrow quirks as she sees green and purple lightsaber blades. Cautiously she walks that way, staying to the shadows, her movements slow and precise as her wounded back still hurts.

She gasps, as she sees who it is Anakin is fighting, her brow creases as she wonders why Anakin would fight against his own uncle.

There is a bright flash, and Nelani glances that way again to see Luke on the ground, groaning in pain, grasping one of his legs tightly. She studies Luke lying there on the ground, wondering if she should intervene. If this fight is something to get involved in.

She wonders if she cares.

Movement catches her eye, and she watches as Anakin raises his blade. His voice is cold and dangerous as he says, “Why couldn’t you have just left?”

She looks back down at Luke. The Jedi Master. The hero of the Republic, of the galaxy. Nearly every sentient in Known Space has heard of this man. He is the embodiment of the Jedi, what it means to be a humble man and a good person. Even the sludge news reports good things about him.

Little boys want to grow up to be him.

And fathers want their daughters to marry men like him.

Luke speaks. “I had to bring you home.”

Then she looks at Anakin. Her Master. Her mentor. The person who has shown her the Force and the power she commands. Taught her to use it, taught her to fight. The man who taught her how to truly live. To her, he is everything his Uncle is and more. Yet here he is, broken. A hero darkened by war and death. Her cheek twitches as she considers him.

It would be so simple to just ignore the fight, to let Anakin kill as he sees fit. Yet what would that say about him? What would it say about her? Can she let the man she loves, kill his unarmed uncle?

Her thoughts pause for a second, as she considers the ramifications of that last thought. Then she nods her head. Yes she loves him. And no she cannot allow him to do this.

Nelani walks out of the shadows and towards Anakin, her feet scuffle over pieces of exploded droids.

Her voice is soft, but cuts through the air around them. Slicing through the tension and anger. “Anakin this isn’t the way.”

Anakin turns towards her, his face twisted in anger. “What are you talking about?”

“Killing your Uncle. This isn’t the way to do things. You’re a hero and a Jedi.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be!”

Nelani shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter, it’s who you are.”

Anakin shakes his head violently, and then turns back to Luke, raising his blade once more.

“If you kill him, then what? Who’s next? Your brother? Your sister? The cousin you have never met? Me?” Anakin hesitates, his arms quivering slightly. He bows his head. Nelani continues talking. “You once told me that you were fighting because the Vong killed someone you loved. If you kill Master Skywalker, who will you be fighting then?”

Anakin’s saber drops to the ground and its blade sputters and dies. The echo of the metal hilt as it comes to a rest rings in the passage way.

Nelani walks closer to him, as he turns towards her. “I’m so sorry Nelani, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be better than this.” Her drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Kneeling in front of him, she reaches out and touches his cheek. “Anakin, you are better than this. I know it. Master Skywalker knows it. I can feel the good inside of you.”

He looks up at her, the tears streaming down his face. “How can you say that?”

She leans closer, her lips almost brushing his. “Because if you weren’t I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you, even while you tried to be Lord Vader.”

Then she kisses him.

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Prefect Ch’roka Toh stares at the display that appears in his mind’s eyes. He is trying to figure out what the symbols and signs means. Well he knows, but he cannot believe it.

For according to the worldship’s calculations, the system’s star is in the process of going nova. He slips the head-mask off, and looks up at the Master Shaper.

“It appears the system has suddenly become unstable.”

The shaper lets out a low snarl. “Systems do not just become unstable.”

“This one has.” Ch’roka turns towards the adjutant in charge of the helm. “We need to break orbit and go to darkspace.”

A sharp nod of the head from the adjutant, and the worldship breaks orbit, slowly leaving Myrkr behind.

“Sir?”

Ch’roka looks down at the adjutant. “What is it?”

“We can’t go to darkspace.”

Horror colors both the Prefect’s and the Master Shaper’s features. “What? Why not?”

“We appear to be in some type of Mass Shadow, as if there is a planet here, but nothing show on our sensors, and every time we try to attune the dovin basils to its gravitic signature, it changes.”

Another adjutant calls out. “Brace for impact.”

All eyes turn towards the transparent view-animal, at the wave of stellar matter flying towards them. The first shock waves, slams into the ship, the energy desperately trying to be absorbed by the dovin basils. They last for twenty-two seconds, before being overwhelmed. Less than a second later, the Baanu Raas has been turned into its composite atoms.