Alien Crossfire Chapter 5

Previous Post

---

Ganner awoke to a feeling of weightlessness. A buoyancy which he found thrilling and frightening at the same time. Then the sensation of touch returned, and he could feel the soothing liquid flowing all around him, providing that buoyancy. He frowned, his last memory being of him standing next to Jacen on Yavin 4.

Taste and smell returned to him at the same time. The distinct taste and smell of bacta flooded those two senses, overpowering and pervasive.

He opened his eyes, and could see the world around him. Filtered through the lens of the bacta tank in which he floated. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then opened them, once more looking outwards, and saw that he had visitors.

On the outside of the tank stood the Jedi Masters Luke Skywalker, Cilghal and Tionne. Alongside them stood another girl, a pretty brunette who Ganner has never seen before. He felt a tug on his face mask, and glanced upwards, noticing one of the technicians looking down at him, making a "come here" gesture with his hands. Ganner kicked himself upwards, and broke the surface. The tech quickly grabbed his arms and helped him out of the tank.

Exhaling slowly, Ganner climbed down the access steps, and stopped before Luke. He gave a short perfunctory bow, and then glanced around the med ward.

"What happened to Jacen?"

He noticed the look which the Master’s gave each other, and then Cilghal stepped forward. "How are you feeling Ganner? Any pains? Dizziness?"

Ganner shook his head. "No. I feel fine. How did I get here?"

"Your astromech brought you back here from Yavin. Jacen was captured, and has since been killed."

Ganner felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He took an involuntary step back, and the only thing which kept him from falling was the Luke’s hand on his upper arm, supporting him.

Luke turned to the brunette. "Nelani, get a chair for him please."

Ganner looked at the girl, and saw her head quickly bob and then she darted off. Moments later she returned, dragging a simple chair behind her. He sat into it, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and placing his head in his hands.

"What happened, Master?"

"We’re not entirely certain. But Coruscant has fallen and Jacen is dead. But the good news is that we’ve recovered Anakin."

Ganner slowly nodded his head. "That is good news. Did we ever find out who was in the Vader outfit?"

Ganner waited, and when Luke did not say anything, he looked up, letting his gaze flicker between all three. Finally Luke replied. "Yes, it was Anakin."

Shock slammed into Ganner’s chest. A weight of disbelief and dismay.

A Solo fell to the Dark.

He did not understand. He could not comprehend.

A Solo should be better than that. They are better than that. They are the bright and shining future of the Jedi Order. Perfect and flawless. They are supposed to be the happy warriors of the Force. Unyielding in their devotion to the Light.

Yet one fell.

One took the name of a Sith.

It was almost more than Ganner could bear.

He propped his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands. "So what now, Master?"

Luke shook his head. "You finish healing. We’re heading to Borelias. A New Republic fleet group smashed the Vong forces there and retook the planet. A first for us, I’m afraid to say."

With that said, Luke, Tionne and Nelani turned and left the room. Cilghal stayed by his side, gently probing him with the Force, helping him get better.

----------------------------------------

Anakin found himself once more in his room. In his hands was his lightsaber, he stared at its marking, the familiar, comfortable grip, the little dings and dents from use and being dropped. The lambent nestled at its core, singing its song of life in a corner of his brain.

He clipped the saber to his belt, and lied back onto the bed, hands folded behind his head, elbows cocked out to either side. He stared at the ceiling, wondering what will happen next. He still found it hard to believe that his Uncle still wanted him to be a Jedi.

After everything he had done.

After everyone he had let die.

After everyone he had killed.

Before his thoughts could twist and turn down a darker path, he felt a gentle caress in the Force. A small little pat, a touch of reassurance. He focused on it; halfway expecting it to be his Uncle checking on him, but to his surprise discovered the distinctly feminine feel of the touch.

Nelani.

With a smile, he reached out to her, wrapping her in a mental embrace. Then she slipped out of his embrace, and her awareness, her self flickered away, a playful tinge to her emotions.

He laughed as he realized that she was playing with him, wanting him to find her presence. He stretched out with the Force, his mental touch flicking from mind to mind as he hunted for that spark which was her.

He was so wrapped up in the game, that the knock on the door startled him. He drew himself up to a sitting position, and frowned at it for a moment, as the hard rapping was repeated.

Slipping off the bed, he opened the door to find Jaina standing there, a haunted look on her face, her eyes bloodshot, and rimmed with red. She threw herself around him, squeezing him tight as she lost her self-control and broke into tears

He wrapped her into a hug, petting her hair. "Shh. It’s okay, Jaya. Everything’s going to be all right. No Krakana."

"You don’t know that. How can you know that?"

She extricated herself from him, and stepped past him into his room, throwing herself on his bed.

"We have to trust in the Force, Jaya. It’s all any of us can do."

Jaina rolled over, and her red-rimmed eyes stared accusingly at him. "Like you trusted the Force when those animals killed Tahiri?"

Pain stabbed through him, it was a barbed arrow aimed straight for his heart, and as usual Jaina’s aim was true.

"No. Like I failed to do when they killed Tahiri." Anakin began pacing the floor, his head downcast, and his eyes watching his feet as he walked back and forth. "I failed Tahiri when I fell. I ignored everything that she loved about me, and gave into my own selfish desires for revenge."

He stopped and suddenly looked up at her. "I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself, but Uncle Luke has forgiven me. I don’t plan on letting my anger and hate get the better of me again. I won’t fail Jacen the way that I did Tahiri."

Jaina looked at him for a long while, her head cocked slightly to the side. "When did you grow up so much?"

He barked a short, sharp laugh. "Two days before you."

----------------------------------------

Viqi Sheesh stood before Tsavong Lah. She stared hard at him, knowing that her time in this existence was nearly up. She could feel the tip of the coufee pressed tightly against the side of her chest, yet she refused to flinch. Refused to look away.

Finally she spoke.

"You won’t kill me, because I’m not useless yet."

The massive being who was the Warmaster for the Yuuzhan Vong, looked down at her, a sneer tilting one side of his lips upwards slightly.

"You were a good slave, a traitor, but you are fairly worthless now. We own Coruscant, and there is nothing you can do about that."

"If you think I’m useless then go ahead and kill me. But this is your last chance to make use of me. I know how my people think, what they’ll be planning next. I can help you. None of them even know that I’m on your side. I could return to them, and continue feeding you their plans."

She watched as Tsavong Lah glanced to the priest in the corner. He turned from her, his radank claw scratching at his face slightly.

Viqi saw the black dots which flickered around the join between Vong and animal flesh. And in that moment, she had an epiphany. A way to ensure her own survival.

She almost grinned.

"In fact, Warmaster, I can help you with something much more immediate than that."

The Warmaster turned back towards her, amusement shining on his face, in his eyes. "Oh really? And just how do you propose that?"

Viqi pointedly looked around at the various beings in the room, and gave her head a quick shake. "Not like this. I will tell you and you alone. None of these others."

"Why should I do this?"

"Because I do not know how broad this conspiracy against you runs. I know I am loyal to you, but I know nothing about any of these others."

His eyes still sparkling with amusement, Tsavong gestured for everyone to leave. Once they had all cleared the room, and the portal had suckered to a close, Viqi let out a low sigh.

Then Tsavong was standing before her, his eyes flashing with anger. "Speak your conspiracy now."

Viqi felt her legs go weak. That part of her which had always responded to males with authority went into overdrive. She grimaced at this sudden reminder of her most shameful secret, her love of and attraction to powerful men.

"Your arm. It’s not being rejected by your body. The gods do not shame you. It is the Shapers. They are giving it the appearance of being rejected, without actually harming you."

A frown clouded Lahs’ forehead. "What purpose would they do this for?"

"That I am not certain, but I suspect the Priests are in on it as well. You’ll find that someone will come to you and hint at a list of demands, phrased so that it seems like a commandment from one of the gods. And if you listen, then the rejection of your arm would stop. If you disobeyed the commands then the arm would continue to grow."

A thoughtful light shone in his eyes, as he paced slightly. Finally he stopped and turned to her. "Very well. You will be given a simple task, until I am able to determine the truth of your conspiracy."

Viqi suppressed a sigh of relief. She had survived yet again. She had yet more life to live.

She could still win everything.

The guards once more came into the room, and dragged her away. With every step, they took her further from Tsavong Lah, further from the ignoble death he had promised her. She lowered her head, and grinned like a mad woman.

Happy for yet another day of life.

----------------------------------------

Tsavong Lah watched his guards as they dragged the infidel away. He watched her body, the defiant tilt of her chin, the way she drug her legs ensuring that they would get tripped up in each of the bone ridges which bulged at regular intervals along the floor.

"There is a certain grace in the females of the infidels is there not?"

Lah glanced to the side to see his old friend Harrar standing there. His face serene and calm as he to watched the infidel slave being dragged away.

Before Lah could reply, Harrar spoke again. "There are those among the lower ranks of the Elite who believe we could use the infidels to bring back the tsup-slave."

Darkness covered Lah’s face once again. "I do not think I would permit any of my subordinates such dalliances."

Harrar snorted in amusement. "But that statement doesn’t apply to you, now does it?"

Lah barked a laugh, and then as the door behind Viqi closed, he faced Harrar fully. "Did you hear her conspiracy?"

Harrar gave a brief affirmative gesture.

"What are you opinions on the matter?"

"It is a theory worthy of Yun-Harla, if it is true – and a ruse worthy of her, if it is not. Yet it is a reasonable enough theory that you would be prudent to ensure either way before she is put to death."

Tsavong clenched the randank paw into a tightened ball. As close to a fist as that hand could now achieve. With his other hand, he ran his thumb over the ridges of the ball. Finally he nodded.

"I know what I need to do." He gestured to an aid. "Bring me the shaper named Nen Yim."

---

Next Post