Ghost - A Star Wars Fanfic

Chapter 10

Luke's eyes flew open from the brief blackout he had experienced. A hoarse cry left his throat and his cracked lips, and he looked to see a seemingly never-ending abyss before him. He had landed on his stomach, most likely bruising or even cracking a rib, and had fallen just enough so that half of his body was dangling off the walkway of the gantry. His breathing grew heavy and he tried to pull himself up only to roll over the edge from his weak and drained body.

    He cried out in panic and scrambled to grab the ledge, noticing his lightsaber was sitting on the walkway where it had fallen from his hand when he had shot through the air. He kicked his legs beneath him and tried to use his trembling arms to pull himself up, but it held no success. He grunted painfully and felt hot tears leak from his eyes just as familiar brown eyes appeared over him.

    He sighed in relief and cautiously reached out to the hand Padmé offered. Once she pulled him up fully and steadied him on his trembling, jelly-like legs, she stooped down and picked up his saber, handing it to him and then pulling her hood up where it had fallen off from the wind. Luckily, Vader hadn't noticed the slip during his attempts to avoid the vacuum himself.

    "Are you sure you're still up for this? You're bruised...and bleeding." Padmé said in concern, brushing his forehead and her hand coming back red.

    "So are you," Luke commented. "But we can still do this. I know we can...the Force won't let us down."

    Padmé sighed and adjusted her vibroblade in her hand. "Then lead the way."

    Luke nodded firmly and darted back into the window where they had been sucked out. Padmé followed closely behind him, avoiding the sharp glass and her senses on overdrive to feel for the Sith Lord's location. His presence was close but she was unable to pinpoint it through the heavy, dark shields forcibly pushing her away. It was hard enough trying to keep her own Force-presence hidden without the darkness pressing in all around her.

    However, the Force barely gave Luke and Padmé milliseconds of warning before a red blade dropped out of nowhere, cornering them back and threatening to slice them down. Luke reacted faster and whirled to parry, his blade skirting the edges of the Sith's and sending yellow sparks into their visions. Padmé instantly dove into help, rolling every which way and snapping her vibroblade in directions Vader wasn't defending as well.

    He growled in his vocoder and lunged at them both, intentionally luring them out and back towards the gantry. Exhaustion began to grip both Luke and Padmé, their breathing labored as they moved in all directions to defend themselves but also attempting to get an offensive strike somewhere amongst the heated duel. The red light came from everywhere, blinding and intimidating as it swooped around almost carelessly. The blade spun well in Vader's gloved grasp, the gripped hilt resembling that of the saber Luke was currently holding.

    It wasn't long before Vader had had them on the gantry again, looming large and allowing his cape to flap dramatically in the wind around him. His moves were graceful, easily meeting the clumsiness of the undertrained Luke and the slower slashes of the non-Force sensitive Padmé. The Force swirled around the trio and Vader suddenly lost his patience, reaching out and slamming the mystic energy right into Padmé as he drove his saber into her shoulder. She screamed, the pain white hot and Luke's cry of dismay swimming in her ear drums. As she dropped to the ground, one hand clutching her shoulder and the other still desperately holding her vibroblade, she looked up through her blood-stained curls and tried to cry out for her son.

    Luke's entire outfit was in tatters, bruises and saber cuts all down the boy's delicately fragile skin—skin that was almost gray with energy depletion and fear. They had lost...they had lost to a skilled Sith Lord who never let anyone beat him. Especially not undertrained Jedi or non-Force-sensitives.