Archive Date: November 15, 1999
Author's Webpage: http://adult.dencity.com/lianne/
Disclaimer: LucasFilms owns Star Wars, and all its characters. Needless to say, they
wouldn't be happy with what I'm doing, but since I'm not making any
money, I'm going to do it anyway.
Feedback: can be sent to lburwell@adan.kingston.net
Notes: This follows the timeline of the movies and the novels, up to Planet of
Twilight, by Barbara Hambly. After that? Pure coincidence.
Pairing: Lu/Lando
Rating: NC-17
Series: Vacation #6
Summary: Luke and Lando meet an unusual Jedi, and get a history lesson.
True to their word, their native rescuers came back quickly. Luke and Lando had redressed in their still-wet clothes and were sitting next to the entrance pool when several heads poked up through the reflective surface.
One of them held out two breathers, then said, "Come," before diving under. Luke and Lando glanced at each other, then put the breathers in their mouths and slipped into the cool waters.
Immediately, three-fingered hands grabbed their wrists and they found themselves being pulled through the water-filled tunnels at incredible speeds. Unlike their first trip, this time they saw more of these strange beings, young and old, all staring at the strangers curiously. Luke assumed that some of them must be female, but there was no visual distinction of gender, except perhaps size. Then again, maybe they were a single-sex race, rare but not completely unknown.
They shot out from the cliff-face, like a shot from a blaster, heading away from vertical face, out over the deepest section of Sandrica's oceans. Deep trenches ran almost from pole to pole, with islands clustered on the shallow plateaus between them. Now they were heading away from the plateau, away from ninety percent of the planet's dry land, and Luke would have been worried if he couldn't feel the calm confidence of their escort. Lando was tense, but Luke reached out with the Force to reassure him. They were in no danger. He was certain of that.
They continued on for most of the day, stopping only for a few surface breaks that seemed to be more for the benefit of Luke and Lando than the natives. They gratefully took the chance to rest in the sun-warmed surface waters. The travel left them chilled, and Luke was beginning to think he was going to be permanently shriveled like a dried prava fruit from his old home on Tatooine.
Finally the pace slowed, and Luke opened eyes that he'd closed to protect against the rush of water and saw a sight that made him gasp around his breather.
Rising up from the depths like a bundle of spears were four stone spires. He couldn't see their base, so deep was the water. He wondered how these spires had been formed and how they manage to keep standing considering the fact that the ocean currents would be moving at different speeds and in different directions at the various depths. It was... awe-inspiring.
As they approached the spires, their escort surfaced. Luke could see that the stone rose well above the water surface, forming steep mountain islands. There didn't seem to be any development on them, probably due to their isolation and the lack of attractive landscaping. There was vegetation clinging to the sides, but they were too steep for pleasant beaches or picturesque rainforests.
Their escort headed for the central spire of the four. A notch in the side provided a space where a swimmer could easily climb out of the water. Luke and Lando hoisted themselves out of the water and handed back their breathers when asked.
"So now what?" Lando said in a low tone. Luke shrugged. He didn't think that they'd been brought out here just to be abandoned, but he had no idea what sort of help they were supposed to find.
The leader of their escort reached into a small niche and pulled out a large shell. He brought it to his mouth and blew a slow, mournful note. The sound echoed around the small space, then climbed the side of the spire. Luke's entire body was vibrating with the sound.
The native cocked his head, then said, "Soon."
Luke lay back on the heated rock, enjoying the feel of the water drying on his skin. It left behind a prickly layer of sea-salts, but he didn't mind. Even his clothes were drying. He just wished that they hadn't tossed away their boots after being thrown into the water yesterday when their flyer had been downed by their attackers. What ground there was was mostly hard stone and very uncomfortable underfoot.
A pebble bouncing down the slope preceded a tremor in the Force that told Luke that they were not alone. He quickly climbed to his feet and reached for his lightsaber. A shake of the head from one of the natives made his hand drop away from it, but he didn't relax just yet. Lando moved to stand next to him.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" a masculine voice said in an oddly archaic form of Galactic Standard.
A figure came around the bend of a path that Luke hadn't noticed before. With the sun starting to get low on the horizon, it took a moment for Luke to get a good look at him.
The person approaching them was humanoid, and looked to be standard human. He was half a head taller than Luke and powerfully built. His skin was a dusky color, whether natural or due to exposure to sunlight. Straight, black hair fell to below his shoulders, ending in the slightly ragged cut of a man who cut his own hair. His eyes, near as Luke could tell, were a blue so pale that they almost looked silver. His cheeks were smooth and his features regular, and his wide mouth curved in a smile that was both welcoming and curious. All in all, he was a handsome man.
One of their escort approached the man and started to speak in a hissing, sibilant tone. The stranger answered in the same language, which surprised Luke. It would take a lot of practice and control to make the sounds that obviously came natural to the natives. The only thing he recognized from the entire conversation was the word 'Jedi,' which was used several times, along with gestures in his direction.
Finally, the man nodded. The natives all bowed their heads respectfully, then headed for the waters edge and dived in. Luke watched as the ripples indicated that they were heading back in the direction they'd come.
"So, you've run afoul of the butchers that now run this world, eh?" the man said with a smile as he watched Luke and Lando fidget. "What say we find a more comfortable location and you can tell me your story."
Not bothering to wait for an answer, the man turned and headed back the way he'd come. Without even thinking about it, Luke was following him. He'd never met a being with so powerful a presence. Next to him, even Ben and Yoda paled in intensity. His curiosity was definitely piqued.
Thankfully, considering their bare feet, they didn't have far to go. Well above the water marks of past storms an entrance led to a comfortable home carved into the side of the mountain. From outside, you almost had to be on top of it in order to see it. Inside was a series of rooms running parallel to the mountain-face with artfully concealed openings to provide light and fresh air. To one side Luke could see a sleeping chamber and washing chamber, to the other, a kitchen and storage room. There wasn't much furniture, and it all looked to be handmade from small pieces of carefully joined wood -- no doubt from the small, twisted trees that grew on the island -- and lovingly designed.
"Please, make yourselves at home," the man said, heading to the kitchen. He reappeared a minute later with carved cups and a pitcher that turned out to hold water so fresh and clean that it was the most delicious thing that Luke could remember having tasted.
"So, tell me about your problem," the man said, sitting down opposite them. Luke opened his mouth, but Lando beat him to it.
"How about you tell us who you are, and what you're doing out here?" he demanded suspiciously.
The man blinked, then laughed. "My apologies. It's been so long since I talked to strangers that my social skills are a little rusty. My name is Corrin. As for why I'm here... I guess you could say that I'm here for the same reason you are: Trying to stay alive."
"You're a Jedi," Luke said. It had taken him a while to recognize the Force vibrations that surrounded Corrin. It was similar to what he felt from other Jedi and Jedi-candidates, but... different, somehow.
"In a manner of speaking."
"You came here to hide from the Emperor?" he asked curiously. Neither Ben nor Yoda had mentioned a Corrin to him.
"Who? Oh, yes. Him. No, I was here long before that one started his power games. He didn't know I existed, let alone that I was on Sandrica."
There was something familiar about this man's Force signature. Luke reached down and unclipped the lightsaber he'd found at the dig from his belt. Going with his instincts, he held it out to Corrin. The man took it from him and sat for a moment, just turning it over in his hands, a small smile on his face.
"I haven't seen this in a while," he said softly.
"I found it at a destroyed settlement," Luke said. "It had been there for more than two hundred years."
"I know. I thought, when I came to this world, that I would be able to put aside the sword permanently."
"You're two hundred years old?" Lando snorted in disbelief. Corrin chuckled.
"Oh, I'm a lot older than that," Corrin said with a wry grin. He looked up and met Lando's eyes. "What, you don't believe me?"
"You look human."
"I am."
"Humans don't live to be centuries old."
"Not usually."
"The average life-span is a hundred and fifty."
"Correct."
"You look maybe forty."
"Close enough."
"So how can you be older than two hundred?"
"I'm immortal."
That shut Lando up. The blunt statement even shocked Luke into a stunned silence. He'd never heard of immortal humans, unless you included the Emperor's form of darkside-preserved life. Corrin was obviously not of that ilk. While the Emperor had used the Force to extend his life, it had consumed his body, leaving him looking like a walking corpse. Corrin, on the other hand, was a picture of vitality.
"What are you?" he whispered.
"An intermediary step in evolution, I guess you could say," Corrin said.
First thing they did was bathe and change. The bathing chamber had a natural spring -- cold but livable -- running through it. They washed off the sea salts, then dressed in some of Corrin's spare clothing. It hung on both of them, Corrin being so much larger, but it was so wonderful to be in clean, dry clothing that they didn't care.
Dinner was very simple: fresh fish, baked in some sort of seaweed that Corrin told them grew anchored against the sides of the islands, just below the surface. A few types of fruit trees grew on the islands, providing juice and desert. Once they'd finished eating, Corrin started to explain.
"To start, we need to go back more than thirty thousand years, to the early days of human civilization. By civilization, I mean on the human home world, thousands of years before the development of mechanical flight, let alone moving into space. A time when everything was explained as the will of the gods, and even the concept of writing had yet to be invented.
"During that time, a new branch of humans began to be born. No one is sure why or how. These humans were immortals. They were always found abandoned and adopted by others. Who abandoned them and why? Again, no one is sure. These children then grew up, living normal lives, marked only by a tendency not to be affected by the usual childhood illnesses of a more primitive time. In fact, they were remarkably healthy.
"And then, somewhere along the line something would happen and they would be killed. Perhaps in battle, perhaps in an accident, perhaps by murder. Whatever the cause, they die.
"And awake. Immortal. Frozen forever at the age they were when they died that first time. Healing every injury. Reviving when killed. Only one thing can permanently kill an immortal: cutting off his or her head.
"Usually, the immortal's adopted family would drive them away as demon- possessed. Sometimes they even tried to kill them. And the new immortal found him- or herself wandering until they found a teacher.
"Now, immortals can always recognize each other. There is an energy signature that signals their presence to other immortals. Some of the more sensitive immortals can even recognize an immortal who hasn't yet died their first death, although that is less common. Others can recognize a person from afar, based just on that signature.
"Immortals also have a strange energy that is released when they die a true death, called their Quickening. It's like... like an electrical storm, although that's probably a poor comparison. And if there is another immortal close by, that energy flows into them, bringing the dead immortal's memories and some of their abilities with it. The older the immortal, the stronger their Quickening and the more power it brought their killer.
"For you see, as a result of this a concept grew called The Game. Somewhere along the line a belief arose that someday something called 'The Gathering' would happen. All immortals would fight in single combat for a prize that would be won when only one was left living. What that prize is, no one knows. No one even knows if it's true.
"However, many immortals decided to get a head start. Eliminate the competition ahead of time. Immortals started to kill immortals, to thin the ranks and steal their Quickenings. Rules were developed. Bladed weapons only. Single combat only. No fighting on holy land, anyone's holy land.
"And so it went, until about the time that humans began to move out into space. That was when one immortal, the oldest still living, discovered that his Quickening had grown to the point where he could use it. Use it to move things without touching them, to see things at a distance. He even had flashes of what might have been the future. He retired to holy ground for nearly two hundred years, along with a number of other immortals. He practiced and experimented, learning the limits of his new talents. And he found that he could teach other, younger immortals to do the same, albeit to a lesser degree.
"Over the next few thousand years, his students spread out, teaching others. Never those who were active in the Game, since it would give them an unfair advantage. Instead, they chose those who avoided the challenges, only fighting to defend themselves and others. And as time went by, those pupils became stronger and stronger, more able to manipulate this strange new Force that had learned to tap through their Quickenings. And as humans met other races, they met others who could do the same and learned from them. Some of those races even had immortals of their own, or legends of them long in the past.
"Then, some ten thousand years ago, something strange started to happen. New immortals started to age. Very slowly, to be sure, but age they did. And these were the ones who were strongest in these abilities. More and more of these new immortals were found, not quite immortal anymore.
"And then, one day, there were no new immortals. No one revived after a first death. However, the ability to use the Force was still being born. Dying first was no longer required. These people started to band together and called themselves Jedi from the name of one of the greater teachers of that time. Being born out of a violent past, they were warriors, and they created and carried lightsabers like yours and mine to remind them of the days when immortals battled each other with metal-bladed swords. But in memory of the hopes of the first immortals to be Jedi, they devoted themselves to helping preserve peace.
"And as time went by, the last of the immortals started to die out. The Game had continued, culling their ranks. And new ways were found to die. For example, early attempts at translight travel tore ships and people apart, down to the atoms. That did not heal. Neither did plunging in the heart of a sun. And as their numbers dwindled, many chose suicide rather than live with the loneliness of being the last of their kind. Watching the universe change around you can be... painful.
"And so, today there are only a handful of immortals left, if even that. I haven't seen one in more than seven hundred years, and she asked me to take her head. She was tired of her long life and wanted to go on to whatever is on the other side of death. It was the most painful thing I've ever done. I had hoped that I'd found a... companion. After that, I came here. I wasn't ready for death myself, but I wanted to be alone for a time.
"I lived here alone for several centuries. But by the time the first settlers arrived, nearly four hundred years ago, I was ready to be around others again. I helped them build their settlement, and introduced them to the natives with whom I'd had a friendly but distant relationship. They were thrilled to find a Jedi already living on their new world, and I built a new lightsaber, if only to satisfy their desire for a 'proper' Jedi. It spent most of its time in my cupboard. I didn't intend to fight again.
"But then the syndicates arrived, looking to create a vacation world. That the natives and the settlers had a prior claim didn't bother them. They destroyed the five settlements scattered around the planet, burning them to the ground and killing everyone they found. The natives were also killed whenever they were seen, and several of their underwater cities were located and destroyed, forcing them into hiding. There was nothing that they -- or I -- could do to stop them. Finally, I retreated here, going into hiding.
"And here I've been, alone until today when the two of you were delivered to my doorstep."
There was silence as Corrin stopped speaking. The hour was growing very late, and their host's voice was hoarse from talking so long.
"Um... How old are you?" Luke asked, finally.
Corrin shrugged. "I've never been much for keeping track of dates. More than twelve thousand years old, though."
Lando's laugh was a short bark. "It's a pretty tale," he started to say.
"But you don't believe in things unless you see proof?" Corrin finished for him and Lando nodded. "Fair enough. Wait here."
Corrin pushed to his feet and headed for the kitchen. When he reappeared, he was carrying a large flat bowl and a small carving knife. He placed the bowl on the table in front of them and held his arm above it.
"Maybe this is proof enough?" he said mildly, then sliced open his arm from wrist to elbow.
The initial rush of blood hit the bowl with a soft hiss. The distinctive metallic scent filled the air, and Luke gasped in horror. But in moments the flow had slowed to a trickle, then stopped. While they watched, blue energy flickered along the wound, and when Corrin brushed the blood away, all that remained was a red scar. A few moments later, not even that was left.
Every hair on Luke's body was standing on end. Part of it was the spillover of the energy of the healing. Part of it was memories. The energy reminded him of the searing blasts that the Emperor had used to almost kill him years ago on the second Death Star. Only the complete lack of Dark to Corrin's Force signature kept him from wondering if they'd found a hidden Sith rather than Jedi.
"Now, you've had my story. Perhaps you could tell me yours?"
It was nearly dawn by the time Luke and Lando had finished the story of their trip to Sandrica, with added explanations of Lando's relationship to Tronin and a brief history of the Empire, the Rebellion and the New Republic. Corrin's reactions made it clear that he hadn't heard of the destruction of the Jedi Order and its slow rebirth through Luke's teachings.
Finally, he called an end to the tales. "We need sleep before we can do anything more," Corrin said, standing up. "I still have my old ship, although it's probably in sore need of repair. Hopefully we can get it working well enough to reach the docking station where your ship is. In the meantime, the bed is large enough for two..."
"We can't take your bed," Luke protested.
"Don't be silly. I have plenty of materials to make a comfortable pallet on the floor, and I've certainly slept in worse places. Plus, my healing means that any stiffness or back pain will disappear quickly. No arguments," he said, shooing Luke and Lando towards the sleeping chamber. He followed long enough to collect a large padded quilt, a pillow and several blankets from a cupboard ingeniously carved into the stone walls. Then he disappeared back into the main room.
Lando shrugged, then started pulling off his borrowed clothes. Luke did the same and they crawled under the homespun covers and moved comfortably into each other's arms as if they'd been doing it for years instead of just a week.
"What do you think of this guy?" Lando whispered in Luke's ear. "Can we trust him?"
"I think so," Luke whispered back. "He's strong in the Force, but I don't feel any Dark to him."
"And this story of being twelve thousand years old?"
Luke shrugged. "I don't think he was lying. He certainly believes it's the truth. And after the way his arm healed up, I'm not sure that I don't believe it."
"I don't know, Luke," Lando said sleepily, the stress of the last few days catching up with him. They'd napped in the natives' holding cell, but it had been too damp and cold to get a restful sleep. Other than that, they'd had no sleep since their nap before going to the Pole City, two nights ago.
"We need help," Luke pointed out. "And he's the only help we've got right now. And I do trust him," he added, deciding to go with his instincts.
"If you say so. Sorry, Luke. Some vacation this has turned out to be."
"I don't know," Luke said, nuzzling Lando's neck below his ear. "I think it's been a pretty good vacation."
His only answer was a soft snore.
Smiling, Luke curled up against his lover and went to sleep too.