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Corran dropped into a double ring of stormtroopers. The front soldiers knelt, the back ones stood, blasters at the ready. He shifted so his back was to Alee. He heard the hum of her lightsaber and followed suit. This is not good. I'm facing 12. Alee the same. Now I find out just who's side she's on.
"What are our odds on this one, hero?" whispered Alee.
"Never talk to a Corellian about odds, Jedi," he replied. He sighed. If I have to go I'd rather be in my X-wing with Whistler. At least I'd take more than a couple with me.
Corran felt trapped in the eye of a storm. An eerie calm lay heavy in the room. Any move on his part could bring a red hail raining down. A door hissed open. Marching footsteps filled the silence. He moved his head a micron to glimpse four more stormtroopers entering the frozen fray. They parted to reveal a black uniform topped by silver hair.
"Well, well," the smug tone instantly grated on Corran's nerves. "Look what dropped in. As I am about to order your capture, I suggest you surrender quietly. You could not possibly cut down all my men before you are mortally wounded, yourselves."
Corran clenched his jaw. I really don't like other people being right - especially Imperial low-lifes. This one's so arrogant he doesn't even carry a weapon. His lightsaber remained lit. He felt Alee tense, shift her weight forward.
The commander raised a comlink to his mouth. "Deactivate the shield."
Shield? What shield? Then Corran noticed an iridescent bubble in the corner, to the left of the officer. It winked, then disappeared.
A wall of nothing rolled over him. He felt like he'd been spaced. His brain was muzzy. Blindness struck him, but he could still see. His ears were plugged, but he could still hear. Fingers numbed. He heard Alee moan, but he couldn't sense her.
"Not again," she cried.
Her agony spurred him forward. He lunged. It was like wading through deep water. He couldn't make his limbs respond fast enough. He swung wildly at the nearest white uniform. A yelp answered the lightsaber's sizzle. He raised the blade to strike again. Pain lanced up his arm as a rifle butt rammed his hand, sending the lightsaber cart wheeling harmlessly away. Someone clubbed him in the middle of his back. He sprawled on the floor. A boot pressed his face into the floor while his wrists were shackled behind him. What happened? Why can't I sense anyone? Or anything?
He was jerked to his feet. On his left, Alee fared no better. The desolation in her eyes mirrored his own. They were hauled to the commander, who was now seated in an imposing chair in the corner.
On either side of the chair, two large tree limbs resting on y-shaped stands stood out stark and alive against the white and black of the room. Corran peered at the large branches. A grey ... oh, no ... ysalamiri was attached to each one. He tried to think, but his brain was trapped in an isolation bay.
He glanced at Alee. Her eyes had taken on a wild aspect as they darted from the officer to the trees and back. She was trembling. The commander sat, elbows on the armrests, his fingers steepled. A smile played around the edges of his mouth.
"As there have been no awesome displays of Jedi power, I can safely assume my pets are doing their duty," he said.
"What are they?" Alee whispered. A gloved hand struck the back of her head. She staggered forward a half step.
The black-suited Imperial frowned. "Do not speak unless I ask you a question."
They stood silent and unmoving while his gaze raked over them. I feel so hollow. I'm in a ... a bubble of emptiness. The Force is out there, but I can't reach it. Long minutes passed.
"I am Commander Myco," the officer said. "You may call me sir. And you are spies." A stormtrooper handed him their lightsabers. He turned them over carefully and laid them under a branch. "Jedi spies. Tell me how you came to be here."
Irritation bubbled through Corran's thoughts. He looked at Alee and asked, "Flew?"
She smiled, "Flew."
They turned to Myco and said in unison, "We flew."
His face narrowed. Looks a little like Tarkin, especially when he's angry.
Blaster stocks crashed into their backs. Corran dropped to his knees and steadied himself. Alee fell prone. Without her hands, her face slapped onto the obsidian floor. Corran winced. He tried to stand. Hands held him down. The closest guard grasped her braid and yanked her back onto her knees. She looked at Corran and shook her head. Her left cheekbone was already discoloring.
"I do not tolerate insolence," Myco stated calmly. "Now. For this little scene to proceed, we must discover the interlopers' identities." He nodded.
Corran's hands were pressed against a smooth plate. He felt a tingling move over his palms to his fingertips. He glanced at Alee. Her eyes were wide. We're being print-scanned. Sithspawn.
"You can save my technicians some time by offering the information I seek." Silence. "Very well. We will do this the hard way."
Blasters were leveled at their heads.
Twenty minutes later, Corran's knees were shooting sparks of pain up his thighs. His feet were tingling as they settled into numbness. He'd tried to turn his head once but the blaster was pressed against his temple and he decided to keep eyes front.
The door hissed and a technician hurried to the commander's side. He passed Myco a datapad, who waved the subordinate away and studied the pad. He looked at Corran and smiled.
"Well. Well. We have a genuine celebrity in our midst. Corran Horn. Famous Rogue Squadron member. Former member of the Corellian police force." Corran heard a quiet snort come from his left. "This Jedi act comes as a bit of a surprise. But what is this? Wanted for murder on Corellia. Isn't that interesting. And it seems there is a price on your head, Mr. Horn. Apparently certain of my Imperial comrades would prefer you dead to alive, but will pay handsomely either way." He sighed dramatically. "What to do? I was just going to kill you, but now I really must weigh my options carefully. Don't you agree?"
Corran glared at him.
Myco turned his attention to Alee. "But you, mystery lady, present a bit more of a problem. The initial search has turned up nothing. It will go much easier for you if you end the suspense right now."
Alee stared at the wall behind him. Myco jerked his head toward Corran. Stormtroopers grabbed each of his arms and hauled him to his feet. They dragged him back three paces and held him still. Myco stood, picked up a baton that had been beside him on the chair seat, and advanced toward Alee. Corran tensed. Alee didn't move.
Myco crouched in front of Alee, tapping the baton in the palm of his left hand. After a moment he used the stick to tip her chin up. He whispered softly, "Come now, let's be reasonable."
Alee shifted her gaze to his face. She spat. Ouch. You could give lessons: how to make a bad situation worse. What are you hiding, Jedi?
Myco stood and tucked the baton under his arm. He pulled a handkerchief from a pant pocket and meticulously wiped the spittle from his cheek and neck. He spun on his heel and returned to his seat. After glaring at her, he struck his palm with the rod and nodded to the guards. A whisper of a smile brushed his lips.
One trooper pulled her braid down, arching her neck. The other drove his fist into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Alee's wheezing struggle for air filled the room. She was pushed onto the floor. Kicks and blows pelted down. No, Alee. They'll find out anyway. Tell them your name. Corran struggled to reach her but was held fast. Alee curled into a ball, head tucked against her knees. A vicious kick to her kidneys tore a cry from her. She convulsed. Corran could see agony ripple through her limbs. As she flung herself back and away, her ribs caught a blow from a blaster stock. Corran heard the crack and felt nausea clench his stomach and squeeze. He threw himself forward, straining to escape his bondage. Alee. Tell them. Save yourself. Tell them! The beating continued. She writhed weakly, no longer able to evade the blows.
Dread pushed Corran's thoughts out, "Animals! Stop! Tell them! Alee!"
A whack on his head catapulted him into blackness.
Corran moaned and rolled over. He landed hard on a cold floor. His eyes jolted open. He looked up at the slab protruding from the wall that he'd fallen off. He blinked, realized he wasn't cuffed any longer, and tried moving.
"Someone get rid of that Wookie punching my head."
He managed to grip the slab and pull himself upright. His stomach lurched. The slab retracted into the wall and Corran fell back. He cracked his skull on a wall. With a groan he cradled his head, then moved to lean against the wall. This is worse than a hangover from bad lomin-ale. He scanned his surroundings.
Corran sat at the back of a prison cell. It was six meters square and made of black metal bars spaced ten centimeters apart. He tried to get comfortable, but the bars were partially embedded into the duracrete behind him, as well. In the center of the cell was a smaller cell less than two meters across. Inside it was one of the commander's branches with its furry parasite attached.
To Corran's right was another bedslab sticking out from the wall. On it, Alee lay, unmoving. He crawled over and rested his hand on her forearm. Her breathing was broken by sporadic soundless gasps. He leaned forward and rested his cheek against her hand. I still want to know who you are. You aren't an Imperial, that's for sure. Why wouldn't you say anything? Was your secret worth the beating you took?
The silence tugged his eyes closed.
"Are you okay?"Alee's voice was hoarse. "Corran, wake up."
Corran snapped his head up and groaned. He looked into clouded hazel eyes.
"How are you doing, hero?" she whispered.
"You're asking me?" He was incredulous. She nodded. "I'm fine, except for a pulsar-sized headache. It's you we need to worry about."
Heavy footsteps approached. They're keeping close tabs on us.
A stormtrooper stopped at their cell, the middle of five in the block. Three bars raised just enough for him to slide a metal box underneath.
"Fix her up," he barked. "The commander wants her healthy for questioning."
He snapped around and marched back the way he'd come.
"Well, I agree with their actions, if not their motives," Corran muttered.
He retrieved the medkit and examined the contents. He pulled out a package triumphantly. "Right on target. Bacta strips."
Alee laid a hand on his arm. "No, Corran. Not unless you want me sick as well as bruised."
He stopped mid-rip and stared at her. "What? You like pain?"
A chuckle turned into a gasp. "No. I'm allergic to bacta. A dip in a tank would kill me, or close to it. Small amounts like that and I swell up like a Hutt."
"Now that is something I can live without seeing." He threw the packet down in disgust. "So what do I do? Just listen to you whimper and whine all day long?"
She pinched his arm. "I don't whine. Or whimper. Much." She paused. "If I could just reach the Force, it would help speed the healing."
Corran looked at the center cage and its occupant. "Blasted ysalamiri."
"I've never seen or heard of such a creature. But somehow, it's blocking our ability to connect ..." her voice trailed off. "You've run into these before?"
Corran nodded. "Once. Better circumstances. When this ... nothingness ... first hit us, what did you mean when you said ' not again'?"
Alee averted her eyes. "It's not important."
"I think it is." She flicked her gaze back. He lowered his head and rifled through the medkit. "But I'll respect your privacy. At least until we get you wrapped up." He held up a roll of plasti-gauze.
"You're all heart, hero."
He snorted. "Will you stop calling me that? You obviously weren't very impressed with me, or my credentials. Take your tunic off." He helped her sit up. She sighed.
"Was that before or after you said you didn't trust me? Where is my cloak? Sithspawn. They took my cloak." She gingerly slipped the tunic off her shoulders.
He helped her roll up her undershirt, whistling quietly when he saw the myriad of bruises covering her torso. "Watch your language. What are you, a pilot? You look like a purple and green Twilek. They also took the Holocron and our utility belts."
"You're a bad influence. And I'm not at all Twilek-like." She touched her cheekbone and winced. "I only have one brainstem and I may just cut it off after this episode." She hissed as he started wrapping the plasti-gauze around her ribs.
"Hurt?" His concern leaked out.
"Only when I breathe."
"Well then. There shouldn't be any problem, should there?" He smirked, enjoying the banter.
"Watch out hero, when I get better..." She gasped. "I think it's tight enough."
"One more time around. There." He paused and ran a finger over the gauze. "It's already starting to harden. That should help those cracked ribs."
He pulled a small bottle out of the box and popped a couple pain relievers into her palm. "Bacta-free. Eat up." He swallowed two as well.
Corran paced the cell. Alee had been asleep for almost three hours. He stopped and glared at her recumbent form. You fell asleep just to avoid my questions, didn't you? He frowned. Get a grip, Horn. She's laid up for major repairs. He resumed pacing.
The Force void was suffocating him. The cell was shrinking with every trip back and forth. I lived without touching it before. Why is this so hard? I feel like a blind person without their guide-droid. The way Alee talks I'm almost positive she's spent her whole life tuned into the Force. That would make it even worse, I think.
Corran turned to the center cage. It's bars were close together, so that a hand could only get a few centimeters in. He touched one rod. Electricity sizzled up his arm. He snatched his hand away and shook it.
"Blast!" The power flow must be constant. Fourth time stupid.
Corran turned to exercising. Jumping jacks. Stretches. Running on the spot.
"Were we moved to basic training camp while I slept? You must be feeling better."
Corran turned to see Alee watching him. His chest heaved. "Better? Better? No, I don't feel better. I'm going crazy with nothing to do." He ran and jumped at the bars on the aisle end of the cell. He seized them and shook. His arms. His body. The bars didn't budge. "Let me out of here you cretins! I'll take you all on! Corran Horn never runs from a fight!" He pounded on the bars with both hands, then leaned into them. Way to keep control, buddy. He turned to see Alee tottering away from the bedslab. She stopped and swayed by the foot.
He moved swiftly to help her. "You have to careful, Alee. The beds are weight-sensitive. They retract after about 30 seconds. Don't want to miss and hit the floor."
He helped her sit down, then sat beside her.
After a moment, he said, "Let's talk."
"Ha. Like I don't know what about."
"Okay. So tell me about it," he urged.
"You're shooting at the wrong target, hero."
"Okay. Different target." He exhaled slowly. "Why didn't you tell them your name?"
"My name is mine to share with whom I please."
"What are they going to find from the print-scan?"
She looked away. "Nothing. I hope." Turning back to him, she asked, "Did they hire you on as an interrogator, or is this just your CorSec training coming out - again?"
Alee rose suddenly and almost doubled over. Corran reached for her, but was waved away. "These bruises are oozing rigor mortis. I have to move," she murmured. He watched her walk four stilted steps then return.
She sat back down, breathing hard. "That's enough for now. Try again in a minute."
Corran rested his arms on his knees. "If you won't tell me about your identity. Tell me about your life. Now. On Coruscant."
She shook her head. "You are persistent. But there's not much to tell." He waited. She looked at his expectant face, then shrugged. "I go to work. I come home to a husband I love very much. When he's not parked on some Outer Rim dustball."
"Does he know about your past? Your identity?"
"Stay away from him, hero." Her voice had a tremor.
"I'll take that as a yes." She shot him a withering glance. He gave her a half smile.
Corran continued. "Do you ever use the Force for more than floating a datapad across the room?"
"Say what you mean, hero. Do I use it to serve the light side? Yes. I use it to serve the innocent."
"I'm not tracking."
"Have that trouble a lot?"
"Nice."
"Not so fun on the receiving end, is it? I'm sorry. Dru always teases me that my sarcasm will drag me to the dark side if I'm not careful." She paused. "The wars you have fought - just wars all - have left many hurting and homeless on Coruscant. I seek them out with Force guidance. Children. Orphans. It is the only time I can delve into another's mind - when they are open and I feel compassion for them."
"You? I wouldn't have guessed compassion as one of your strong suits."
She smiled sadly. "I deserve that. It wasn't, actually. I learned it from an old friend."
"The ... same ... old friend?"
"Huh?" Alee looked at him. "Oh, as the cloak. Yes. The very same."
"Tell me about him." Alee crossed her arms and shook her head.
He rolled his eyes. Hutts are easier to question than you, lady. "Fine. What do you do with these orphans?"
"Take them in. Clean them up. Feed them. Find them new homes. New families."
"Honorable work."
"I'm glad you think so."
Clumping of boots interrupted them. The entry bars lifted 20 centimeters. Two food trays were deposited. As bars lowered, Corran ran forward. Alee trailed behind, forcing herself to move as quickly as possible.
"Hey plasti-suit," Corran called. "You only going to feed us once a day?"
The stormtrooper unslung his blaster and turned. His trigger-finger twitched.
"Rebel scum," came the robotic-sounding reply. "You're lucky to get anything."
Alee reached the bars and grabbed hold as the soldier stepped toward her. "Hey low-life," she jeered. "Haven't you heard? There's a new government in place. Now you are the rebel scum."
A white blur drove the rifle butt through the bars and sank it into Alee's stomach. She crumpled. The stormtrooper left behind the echoes of a mechanical laugh.
Corran rushed to her. "Emperor's bones. You're worse than me sometimes."
She smiled weakly. "Qui-Gon always did say my arrogance was my shortcoming." Her eyes rolled up into her head and she passed out.
Who's Qui-Gon?
Two days. Forty-eight standard hours. They've left us rotting in this cell for 172,800 seconds. Alee won't talk to me. Said she told me too much. They haven't fed us since that one meal. Now they've taken to running occasional jolts of power through the outer bars. Corran stopped pacing and rotated his recently electrocuted shoulder blade. Could be worse, I guess. At least I'm not back on the Emperor's prison ship. A chill shuddered through his body. It could always be worse.
He pressed the button to slide the bedslab out of the wall and laid down, arms behind his head. What do I know about Alee? Two people have been mentioned. Dru she spoke of in the present tense, so I assume that is her husband. Is he also the splicer? Probably. She spoke of a Qui-Gon. But it was during a moment of weakness. What were her words? 'Qui-Gon always did say...' It must be someone she knew well. Does that make him - if it's a him - the 'old friend'? If I can find out who Qui-Gon is, it might lead me to her identity. Great. I'm back where I started.
Alee rose and started pacing slow circles around the inner cage, holding her ribcage. Glad she's feeling better, anyway. Corran closed his eyes and pretended to snore lightly. She stopped with her back to him and stared blankly at the branch. Her whisper floated faintly through the cell.
"You'd tell me to stay in the moment. Don't focus on my anxieties. I'm trying." She paused. "I know. There is no try. I love Dru. But right now, I miss you so much it feels like someone is taking a vibroblade to my heart and cutting little pieces off. I should have stayed with you. I don't belong here. Without your love and without the Force ... I'm so cold ... so afraid." She sighed. "If only I'd met Obi-Wan before he was struck down. I'd know more of what happened on Naboo. I'd have a little more of you to take with me, to give me strength."
A marching cadence interrupted Alee's musing. Sithspawn. How do they time these things? What does Obi-Wan Kenobi have to do with this? Corran sat up and stretched, pretending to have just awakened.
Alee turned to him. "We have company."
The entry bars disappeared into the ceiling and four stormtroopers entered the cell. They held their blasters at the ready.
"Looks more like an invitation," quipped Corran.
The bars of the inner cage rose up. One soldier advanced and handcuffed Alee. He attached the cuffs to a carry ring on one end of the branch. He did the same to Corran, but his hands were behind his back. With two guards in the fore and behind, the procession made its way to a meeting chamber.
Corran looked around in amazement. Every surface was polished black, except a wide red rug running up to a throne-like chair and six intricately woven tapestries depicting Imperial victories. He stumbled when Alee jerked to a stop. He looked over his shoulder and saw her starring in horror at one of the wall-hangings. Alderaan being destroyed by the first death star. Blasters urged them forward.
They were unshackled from the branch, but stayed cuffed. The branch was set on a stand a few meters behind them. The other branch had been moved and was beside the throne. Are those ysalamiri permanently attached? What happens if they fall off their logs? Myco stepped out from a hidden entrance left of the chair and took his seat. I don't like this. He's looking like Tarkin again.
Myco motioned for Alee to step ahead. She did. Corran's guards moved up to sandwich him. Oh, no. Not again.
"It took us quite a while to track down any information. But what we found was quite interesting. Unfortunately, for you, my dear, the Corporate Sector never endured the purges other areas suffered. Our records go back a very long time. And that's where we discovered you, Alee-Nedra cy Nerac."
Alee stiffened. The commander leaned back, pleased with her reaction. Corran's eyes darted between the two.
"What you will now tell me is how your illegal government did this. How did they give you a perfect print-scan match for a Jedi who died 43 years ago?" He steepled his fingers and tapped them together.
Corran worked to suppress his surprise. Can Cracken's surgery teams do that? I never heard...
Alee stood tall and moved a pace forward. Corran studied her closely. She's made a decision. I hope it doesn't get us killed.
"The New Republic did nothing," she declared. "I am Alee-Nedra cy Nerac."
"Liar!" The yell propelled a purple-faced Myco from
his chair. He stalked up to her and snapped her head to the left
with his blow. His hand print glowed red on her cheek.
Myco froze and looked around at his troops. He brushed off the
front of his uniform and brought his breathing under control,
then strode back to the chair and called for his aide before he
sat down.
Corran raised his eyebrows at the way the aide's curves filled out her all black uniform. He looked into her face felt paralysis seize his body. A very beautiful, very young face framed by white blond hair was returning his stare. Myco caught the exchange and motioned her to him. She bent over and whispered in his ear for a minute. He smirked and nodded.
The aide walked slowly and provocatively up to Corran. She cupped his jaw in her hand and spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "And we could have had such a good time, you and I. Now, we'll never get the chance."
"I'm happily married. I don't want the chance," Corran returned.
Blue eyes narrowed to slits. He buckled when the full force of her knee slammed into his groin. Crushing pain engulfed him. His vision blurred and he fell to his knees, gasping.
"I'd be honored, sir," she said as she returned to Myco's side, "if you would allow me to pull the trigger on the blaster that ends his miserable life."
"Of course, my dear." Myco agreed. "Now. Where were we? Ah, yes. Rilla, get search teams out looking for the craft Mr. Horn arrived in. The fellow doesn't have much imagination so I expect it will be an X-wing - his preferred fighter." His focus returned to Alee. "Before you go, Rilla, tell me what you know of the mystery Jedi's name. Origins if you please."
"According to protocol data, its structure is typical of the Tanaab ruling classes."
"Very good. Get linked with our Tanaab contact and have a database search done. I would like a hologram, two- or three-dimensional, of the late Alee-Nedra cy Nerac."
He studied the two Jedi for a few minutes.
"Another wait for you, I'm afraid. I hate killing someone who is a mystery. You're very lucky, Mr. Horn. Her lack of identity is keeping you alive."
"What do you care who we are?" blurted Corran. "You were out to trap a Jedi and you got a bonus. Unless you were after some else altogether."
A kick drove Corran from his knees to the floor. A boot flattened his cheek into the rug. I really don't like this particular position.
"Who were you hoping to trap, Myco? Luke Skywalker? Kill the master then pick off the students one by one?" Alee challenged him.
"Enough!" Myco barked. "Return them to the prison level."
