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Lyra	By : Wanabee Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 3599 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. These characters are mine, and so is Ruy.

Chapter List
- 7
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The lights are much dimmer when you open your eyes. Your arms are bandaged to the loops again, and you roll your eyes when you see the IV lines are back. The alarm which always signals your wakening is still activated, and Moroc enters soon to turn it off. He is clean-shaven and bald, but probably only in his early thirties, and his strong features would be handsome if they were not etched with a sneer. His white pilot�s uniform, the color of innocence, looks nauseatingly wrong on him. "Well, Sammi, you just can�t keep away from me, can you?"

"Don�t call me that. That�s not my name any more. You killed Sammi. I�m Lyra now."

"Oh, you�ll always be Sammi to me, baby."
"Where is G�noa-Fan? Where are Ridan and Doujo?"

"Such concern for your �rescuers.� Touching. Misguided. They�re no better than I am, you know, but at least I�m honest. That�s the problem with Jedi. They�re such hypocrites."

"They are better than you in every way."

Moroc raises his eyebrows. "That�s quite an assertion. Good thing it�s not true." He leans close and smiles, "And I can prove it." You look away, revolted. He leans back and laughs quietly. "In three days, you�re going to beg me to prove it."
"I wouldn�t beg you to wipe my ass."

He laughs louder now. "You have toughened up. Good! I like �em tough."

"Where are they?"

"The Healer, sadly, didn�t make it. But I knew you had an especially soft spot for Bristel and Kende, so I saved them for you. You thought they were invincible, didn�t you? Surprise helped me, and they were surprised! But mostly they hold themselves back; the pious twits refuse to tap the greatest power of the Force. So, they�re at the mercy of anyone who does."

"Anyone with no common decency, you mean?"

He is serious now. "Common to whom? Is it common decency to use you for political gain? You don�t think they�re taking you to Coruscant to play Euchre, do you? The programming has already begun, sister. Is it common decency to sleep with you and then brag to the pilot about how adequately you fill the boring interstellar hours? They were laughing at you. I�ve never done that."
"I don�t believe you."

"Then you�re even more naïve than I thought," he says, somewhat angrily.

"Why did you�" you find it difficult to put into words the magnitude of his crime, against you, against humanity. "Why did you destroy my planet?"

"Q&A time?" He shrugs. "OK. It was just a test. I�d feel pretty foolish if I threatened the galaxy and then my big bomb just fizzled." He makes a little gesture with his fingers. "Fzzt!"
You are open-mouthed with horror. "Most people test things in unpopulated places!"

He considers and replies, "I guess I�m just not most people."

"Why my planet? And why me?!"

"Oh, that�s a good one. Your planet because it was the closest populated one to the wormhole into non-Force space. And you because the computer picked you."

"How did you find me on Ruy?"

He laughs. "That�s the best part! I didn�t! I knew the Jedi would hear about you, so I figured, why knock myself out? I just signed on as a pilot with them. I had planned to kidnap you from this ship about now, but then when Bristel radioed in that they had found you but you weren�t returning to the ship right away, I made my move. But when I got back here, I wasn�t too happy when right away they gave me the coordinates of my own ship. They killed that worthless technician and some of my best men, but it all turned out all right. And that�s enough for now." He flicks a switch overhead and you feel a chill in your veins. "We�ll have more time to get to know each other in a few days, when you�re more receptive." He smiles. "It�s a long way to Coruscant."
**

The drugs make you sleepy, but give you bad dreams. No Earth dreams, thank goodness. Those died long ago. But dreams of betrayal, fear, worthlessness, pain. Gradually the mist clears, and you become aware that you are only in a stupor. Moroc comes and goes, adjusting the machine over your head. "This isn�t so hard," you hear him say from across the universe. "What a racket that technician had going. And to drag it out to a week. Good thing for him the Jedi got him before I did. Sammi, open your eyes." You open your eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes."

He smiles at himself, "All right. Who?"

"Malde Moroc."
"All right. You can close your eyes. I mean, close your eyes now. Listen carefully. You need me like fire needs air. You can�t live without me. You will do anything I say. Nothing else matters. What matters?"

"Nothing but you."

He removes the IVs and releases your arms. "Sit up." You do and the stupor slowly subsides, leaving only a dreamy feeling of peace. "Stand." You comply. "What do you need?"

Without knowing how, you come closer to him. You touch his arms and inhale fully before exhaling a breathy, "You."

He smiles. "Kiss me." You move your hands up to his neck. His come to your waist. You stretch your face up to his, close your eyes, and kiss him, gently at first, and then passionately. He backs you into a wall and you feel his body�s response before he breaks off. "Hmm," he smiles, "I had a feeling you�d come around. You can finish that thought later. I�ve got something for you first. C�mon." He takes your hand and leads you out of sick bay. You go down the hall and he opens a door. Inside is a large room, mostly empty. It is probably a practice room, or possibly an empty cargo area. But the most interesting features are the two Jedi suspended in reddish beams coming from two inconspicuous boxes on the ceiling. Doujo is suppine about four feet off the floor, unconscious, with dried blood on his head. Ridan is slumped over, looking tired. Both have several days� growth of beards.
"Lyra," Ridan calls out hoarsely, but you do not respond. You look calmly to Moroc. "Lyra, are you all right?"

Moroc responds for you, "She can�t hear you any more, Jedi. She can only hear me. You had your turn, and you betrayed her. She�s mine now."

"Lyra, he�s lying!" Ridan shouts, but you make no response.

Moroc has walked over to Doujo and picked up the lightsabre lying under him. "Sammi, come here. I have something for you to do." He ignites the lightsabre and hands it to you carefully. "Kill him. After the Master has seen his apprentice die, he will follow him."
You take the lightsabre and consider its heft. It�s awkward to hold with a cast, but it�s not as though you will be fighting with it. You hold it over your head and then change your grip so that it is pointing down at Doujo.

"Wait!" says Moroc. "Very dramatic, Sammi, but not so practical at that length." You wait while he reaches up behind you and makes an adjustment, shortening the beam.

"Lyra, Sammi? Don�t do this. You don�t have to," comes Ridan�s final plea.

"I like to hear you beg, Jedi. But she is doing this because she wants to."

"Yes," you say. You turn your head to smile lasciviously at Moroc before bringing the weapon down in an arc. This arc misses the body in front of you, though. The beam tucks under at the last moment and continues past your left hip, into the murderer close behind you. You look into his surprised face before forcing the handle up towards your shoulder. No sense in taking any chances. You pull forward. Moroc gurgles and falls to his knees, uncomprehending, then angry. He falls to the floor. Your smile gone, you look over to Ridan. "That turned out better than it could have."
Ridan speaks calmly. "Lyra, press the button at the hilt of the lightsabre to turn it off." You do. "There is a blaster in the locker over in the corner. Get one and destroy the emitter on the ceiling over me." You do that, too, numbly. Ridan tumbles down. He rises and gently takes the blaster from your hand. "Are you all right?" he asks, with his hand on your shoulder. You nod. He steps away and puts his arm under Doujo and blasts the emitter over him, so that he falls gently to the floor. Ridan puts the blaster in his belt and lifts Doujo in his arms, carrying him down the hall and into sick bay. You follow numbly.

By the time you arrive, machines are beeping and readouts are blinking. Ridan has his hands on Doujo�s head. "He�s still in there."
- 7
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- 9
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Lyra