The Abiding Force: A Knight of the Empire (Star Wars)

6: Alone Together

"I want to beat him." she said, her voice shaking with emotion. It wasn't just pain, but reluctance and anger as well. This was just as difficult for her as it was for him, perhaps more so. To live her entire life time, tortured and abused only to find herself in more of the same as punishment for her failures. He looked at her seriously knowing she was genuine by the look on her face. She truly did want to defeat Korta, if not to end the pain than to have succeeded in something. They both needed a victory.

"We can't win." Val said with a sly smile, his own voice shaking with the sudden relief he felt. It was good to have an ally, someone who understood what he faced. "Korta is beyond either of us." It was the truth, the Knight's power was overwhelming and something in Val screamed that he had yet to show the true power he held. It was inspiring and troubling to see just how much Val did not understand about the power he wielded. How much might have been different if Korta had been in the command center that night?

"We can stop the lightning." she said, breaking Val's fugue. This was something he'd not thought of, didn't think himself capable of in any case. He considered it for a moment. The force was energy, the life-force of the entire galaxy, and they were just directing the flow of that energy. IF that were true and not just theoretical, then surely they might be able to direct or even absorb that power. Simple in concept, but something told Val that it would not be so when faced with reality.

"Maybe." he said, meeting her eye with a hopeful smile, "I hadn't thought of that." he added gratefully. She looked away, "I know it's stupid, you don't have to tease." She said, discouraged. Val leaned forward, "No, I'm serious, I hadn't considered it." he explained, trying to reassure her. She returned her gaze back to him, he did his best to keep the comforting smile on his lips. "I'll look through the archives, maybe there will be something..." she cut him off there, throwing a data cylinder onto the floor in front of him.

"I swiped it from one of our brothers during sparring today." She said, massaging her shoulder, he could see the bruise along her collar. "It should let you access the full archive, maybe even the holonet." She said with a groan as something popped into place beneath her skin. Val pulled the cylinder into his hand, then placed it on the bed beside him. "Why didn't you...?" he began, she sighed, "Must I do everything?" She said with a mocking smile. Val nodded, "I didn't mean it that way." he explained. She nodded, "I know Val."

It was the first time she'd said his name, it seemed alien to him then, as the words hung in the air. She stood slowly, in obvious pain. Val stayed on the floor, unwilling to test his own meager strength, lest he collapse entirely. As the door opened and Chiko turned to step into the hall he spoke. "Thank you, Chiko." He said, a small smile touching the corners of his lips. She halted halfway through her turn and nodded appreciatively to him. "Try to sleep." She said. Val nodded, "You too." he said, seeing the dark circles under her eyes.

The door closed behind her and Val was alone again. He counted the steps until she was out of range. With some effort he pushed beyond that, finding her again for a fleeting moment. The isolation of her passing was excruciating. For a brief moment he had shared some small understanding with her. As he laid down to sleep, for the first time in nearly a year he did not dream of the monster bathed in red. Mercifully, he did not dream at all.

It was not a simple power to master. That was immediately clear to them both upon their first attempt. Val had managed to absorb a small amount of electricity, but that small victory had only encouraged Korta to devote more of his power to overwhelming Val's pitiful attempt. Chiko had not managed to absorb or redirect the lightning at all. Val had watched as she faltered beneath the strain of the moment, the waves of raw power unleashed upon her in a storm of sparks and smoke.

It was an ancient technique, one rarely studied and mastered only by a select few. It was desperation that lent him the perseverance to attempt it again and again. There were some successes, all quickly overshadowed by the overpowering strength of his adversary. At night he would lay in his bed, stinging and smoking from his failure. His world reeked of metal and smoke. Then he would rise and train, tempting his master's fury to draw out the inevitable punishment.