On the Wings of Valkyrie

Chapter CXXXIV

Luna may have been dizzy, but she was almost positive she wasn't seeing double. Similarly, she was rather certain that she had killed at least two of the blasted Hands.

And now she was fighting four?

The girl didn't know. At this point she was only thinking through enough to stay on her feet, defend her head as it was the only part of her not protected by armor, and try to kill whoever was nearest in a free moment. It probably wasn't a good idea to fight without care for any and all injuries, but the armor gave Luna a certain amount of invulnerability, and she wasn't above using it in her current state. At the moment, she didn't even have the brain power to consider not taking advantage of it. How could she when it was taking all she had to remain on her feet?

Her lightsaber slashed through something, hopefully an arm or leg. Half a second later, she was bringing her free arm up to shield her head. One second there was a red light and a small pressure, next it was gone, and Luna used the opening to impale the guy through the chest.

He dropped to the floor, probably dying, but that was fine—as far as Luna's train of thought was concerned, he no longer existed. This was in fact a mistake, because just as she was blocking another lightsaber with her elbow, her foot caught on something (what had actually happened was that the not-yet dead hand had grabbed her ankle to trip her up but the Rebel had no way of knowing that), causing her to topple to the ground before the girl even knew what was happening. The impact sent the air from her lungs and black spots to her eyes. For a moment, Luna was all but certain she would never again breathe.

Then she was moving. Not of her own command, her body was moving without her permission, but in half a second Luna was back on her feet, her blade—now matching the shade of her enemies' sabers—coming up to properly block two incoming strikes for the first time since the duel began. Strikes she held back with strength that was not her own even as her mind attempted to catch up to what was happening—rather difficult considering she wasn't yet aware of the fact she was upright.

By the time Luna's brain had managed to process reality, she was already running down a hallway, vaguely aware that someone was shuffling through her memories, accessing the knowledge she had memorized for the mission in order to direct her down the proper path. By that point, she'd finally recognized what was happening: Vader had taken control.

It was a testament to how sick she felt that Luna didn't even bother with words, simply sending a general questioning impression of why he'd interfered.

You have five minutes to get out before the bombs go off, his voice answered in her mind. The words sounded tense with concern, though that may have been Luna's imagination. Regardless, it explained why the Force was swirling around her to increase her speed. You wouldn't answer your comm.

....My bad, Luna thought to herself, though she knew that he'd hear. Her mind wasn't being shielded after all, probably hadn't been shielded for awhile, or at least not enough to keep out anyone who actually wanted to get in. How's your injury?

Worry about yourself! How were you even fighting?!

The question made sense, Luna noted dimly in the back of her mind. The only reason she was even on her feet at that precise moment was because of Vader's overwhelming strength flowing through her. The girl couldn't have fought him if she wanted to, the sickness had taken too much from her to do that. Right now, she was nothing more than a puppet, a weapon he could wield however he wished.

Maybe Luna should have been scared, but she trusted Vader too much for that. It wasn't the first time he'd taken control. Probably not the last.

But it was the first time he'd taken over when Luna was incapable of pushing him out should the need arise. There was no reason for that need to arise though. They were on the same side.

It was still a disconcerting realization all the same.

I will relinquish control after you are safely aboard the Tantive, Vader stated, no doubt sensing her feelings.

If Luna had the energy, she'd have mentally shrugged. The Sith could have decided to use her for a mass murder spree, and the girl probably couldn't have cared less at this point.

I wouldn't be like this if you hadn't been stabbed, Luna sent to him. She didn't mean for the words to be biting, but that's what it ended up sounding like. Blame it on the fact her body was doing something at Vader's direction that it was telling her it physically could not do. What happened?

It was a far question. The last time Vader had gotten hurt was that incident on Naboo with that kamikaze Hand. Before that? If you were ignoring all the wrecks that had stressed his suit to the point of the respirator breaking down, then it was years ago, and it had been a blaster shot that his armorweave cloak had, for the most part, protected him from. Luna had been more than well enough to hunt down the offending Rebel and make the woman regret her decision for what little time she was left alive. Vader simply didn't get injured, not without something crazy happening, and no one knew that better than Luna. Even when he was protecting her, the Sith had never been hit in her place. He was too strong, too powerful, too good at fighting for that to happen. Luna had always been the weakest link between the two of them, and the girl knew that she was by no means weak. Not when it came to battle.

The briefest impression of a conversation with the Emperor flicked through the Sith Lord's mind before being hidden. Someone else wouldn't have caught it or would have disregarded it. Luna did neither, but it took her a lot longer than she'd have liked to connect the dots.

Palpatine fought through his Hands?! she guessed.

Not for long. You seemed to have distracted both him and his Hands, Vader answered. It was Luna's turn to recall and instantly attempt to hide the distant, dazed recollection of her fight. Considering her current state, it was no surprise when she failed miserably and felt the Sith Lord's anger rush through her. It felt a lot more all encompassing than usual—which the girl supposed made sense since it was being channeled through her and into the Force around her instead of being simply sensed.

That was not the intended use of your armor!! Vader's voice thundered in her head. Luna tried to ignore the pain that came with it.

It worked, the girl pointed out numbly, recalling what would have happened were her armor not cortosis. It had quite literally saved her life before she began making use of it as she would any other advantageous weapon.

....I suppose it did manage it's intended task, the Sith Lord agreed, shifting through her recollection—or more like lack thereof—of what had occurred. Do not use it like that again. You're lucky that your adversaries didn't use Force lightning.

Why? Luna questioned, suddenly feeling about a hundred times more dizzy. Even with Vader in control, she distantly felt herself stumble from the sudden wave of weakness that swiftly came over her.

....Later, young one. After you are feeling better.

You mean after you're healed, Luna corrected through the spinning. The problem wasn't her health after all.

They didn't speak after that. The Rebel wasn't entirely certain when she returned to the ship. She was rather sure Vader had spoken to Leia or the Rebels or Trios or all three through her before that point, though if he had, it was brief. Cerberus had probably returned to her side, but again, Luna could only guess. He didn't relinquish control over her the moment she was inside, as the girl had half expected, instead directing her path back to her room. He only let go of her after he'd set her on the bed.

It was not an overstatement to say it took all of Luna's remaining strength to collapse to the side and onto a pillow rather than forward onto the floor. In the seconds between that action and unconsciousness, she could still feel Vader's presence surrounding her—no longer in control of her body, but acting more like a cold blanket of protection as he had so often done when Luna had been too sick to put up her mental shielding and to shrink her presence. The last thing she vaguely noticed before slipping away was that she was not alone in her room, but she was too sick and tired to care about identifying whoever it was and promptly allowed herself to embrace darkness.