The Call to the Light

ByTheOneAndOnlySlayer

Chapter 51

Author's Note: Sorry I've been MIA! I've been struggling, lol. I didn't mean to make this story so long and drag you guys, but I promise this story – if not this saga – will be finished.

Ssssssss

"Damn it! Kriff, Joah!"

Lorra is lost. Everything in her body is an uncomfortable cocktail of agony and numbness. In the belly of this dark underground, darker than even the damned trafficking ship she was kidnapped to, she thinks this is how people die.

She could have believed she was getting out. Joah, the kid, was holding her hand and leading her out of there, using his Force or whatever. That's what Rey said.

And they were coming back to get Rey. They had to - they were going to make it out of here. It's enough to push her further into the smothering underworld until Joah stops, his hand leashed to Lorra's wrist going slack, and collapses.

Maker no, please no! Lorra's thoughts race as she drops to the ground, feels around for his upper body because it's pitch-ass black.

"Hey, kid, come on, come on honey – !" Lorra mumbles, choking on thin air and whimpers. He's so small and not moving. Like Fordo was, like the others. Not you, baby boy, not you, you're just a -

Something…something definitely scuffles. It's behind them, not far. Lorra almost doesn't think it's real – she's scuffing her bare trunks of feet in a dead woman's slippers; couldn't it have been her? And Lorra's so delirious, she could have imagined it.

She drags Joah's body around hers, huddling against him to feel something, as the sounds come closer. Closer, closer.

Lorra forgets about the blaster. Her only defense mechanism is closing her eyes and making herself as small and quiet as possible, even though she's sure she's shaking herself until she'll piss.

And them something bleeds into her vision – a cold, bright blue haze. It's so sharp a color, like the sky, that Lorra must have slipped out of consciousness. But the hum of the sound is –

A lightsaber.

She has the blaster out in a fumbled move, arm quivering. "St-t-top!" she moans hoarsely.

"It's all right."

The voice is male. The sound is so bare of feeling that it must be a droid. Her eyes melt at the overwhelming light from the weapon eclipsing it all.

"It's all right," the male says again, adjusting to a warmer (if possible) tone. "You're safe."

"W-what do…" oh, kriff, she can't even talk, she's such a mess. "What do you want?"

The figure that comes out, closer to her, half-extinguishing the saber to reveal his face, is a haunted one that certainly matches his dead voice. The word that struggles to catch up with Lorra's adrenaline-staccato nerves is phantom: deep, endlessly black eyes, sunken in pale skin and a mess of dark hair, like he was born from a place like this. And maybe he was.

Memory washes over her in this ill-placed moment, of how the Mirialan possessed the same eerily calm and collected timbre, a low purr of wintery wind from a distant mountain. This phantom causes the same shiver to run down her spine, and suddenly the cave she's slowly been suffocating from becomes more than a thing that will crush her …like it did Rey. This creature will swallow her up.

But her vision clears, and something uncharacteristically warm laps toward her. It's a gentle tide of reassurance she knows isn't coming from her. Still, she lets it overwhelm her, hungry and tired of this life.

The man holds out an equally white hand, a placating gesture. Almost gentlemanly. His features bend away to something resembling kindness, and pity. "I know who you are. You're Lorra, aren't you. I'm here to rescue you."

This man says these things far too quickly for Lorra to register: she is being saved, and he has come to look for her by name - just like Rey. Why her? Lorra's one person out in the badlands of the galaxy, how could anyone possibly -

"What happened to him?" The man shifts forward, his attention turned to Joah across her lap. He lays the saber down, the play of light so disorienting that Lorra falls back on her haunches.

"He – he just – he fell. I don't know –" her breath hitches, without tears.

The man leans forward and lays his hands on Joah's face, his neck, checking for vitals. Another minute – Lorra shivers at this towering man's proximity, afraid he'll touch her by accident – and he whispers, "Wake up…Joah."

What the kriff? He knows the kid, too?! "How – "

But then Joah's face turns just barely, casting shadows that flutter in the saber's glow. His big, shiny eyes open again, and he just looks at the man.

Lorra chokes back another dry sob. She's not alone now. She's safe, they're safe. They're saved.

Something else is happening, here in the dark. Joah holds the man's gaze with his own for several seconds and, like the Force might be telling him something – he holds out his hands and places his palms on the man's cheeks. It's such a tender, familiar gesture that it robs the two adults of breath.

She thinks that Joah's big eyes, serene and all-knowing, are the most beautiful thing in that cave, until the expression on the man's face slips from clinical to – to –

The man exhales brokenly, lids half-closed in sorrow, looking down at Joah that puts Lorra on the defense.

Instinctively Lorra begins to cradle him back. "How do you know – wait." It hits her like a brick wall. "You're – you're the one Rey was calling! She showed Joah, through the Force! You're…are you Ben?"

For a long, silent pause, the man seems to sink further into the ground. He must be Ben, if he looks that hollow.

"Let's get out of here," Ben declares dully. "There's a ship I need to hail – "

"Wait." Lorra allows Ben to adjust Joah in his grip before he stands. "We need – we need to get Rey."

That makes Ben turn to her with a helpless, stunted expression. "I…." But then, in a shade of movement, he becomes cold, hostile. "You left her."

Something hot tingles within her. "What?"

"She – " Ben struggles to speak as well. "You left her. She's dead."

"No!" Lorra doesn't believe it for a second. Rey was fine! There's no way Rey's body just gave out in that cave-in. How does this man know?

"No, she – she can't be dead." feeling faint, Lorra closes her eyes. "There was a cave-in. She said help was coming – she told me to keep moving," she explains before guilt leeches her speech. "She's stuck, the cave collapsed – "

"You – " he begins to admonish her, anguish on his tongue, when suddenly he goes still. "What do…" he licks his lips. "What do you mean, the cave collapsed?"

Lorra swallows, faint from the thin air. "You didn't see her? She's stuck under a pile of rocks! How do you know…"

"Where did you leave her?" he demands, fist clenching around her bicep. That strange wave of warmth and safety he must have exuded earlier (The Force, she thinks) billows into something fretful and tight.

And then her mind begins to ache. It – squeezes. Her mind is a sponge and memories of the past few – days? Minutes? – drain from her and into his greedy grip. He pours through them, sifting madly to make sense of her words.

…She's forced to see Rey, that creep Rastro bleeding on them, the ship lurching out of control, the crash – waking up and finding Rey – fleeing the crash site…Joah's mother, barely keeping up….

…Joah's mother, lying on the ground, where the cavern began…Joah weeping over her.

…The monster, bursting through the sand, the first time Lorra sees Rey truly fight in the open.

…The nightmare hounds, overwhelming them, whipping and darting like darker versions of night. Attacking Rey.

…The blast in the cave. Pandemonium upending their senses. Being cut away from their only way of rescue; their strongest bet of survival.

…Rey's last words behind the rubble, after the blast and the unholy rumble that split them apart: "Ben is coming."

The last of these images slow, stretching out and inspecting every angle. It hurts.

"Ssstop!" she begs.

Joah squirms between them, panicked. He rasps in Huttese while putting his hands on the man's temple.

The man instantly is rendered immobile, eyes closed and gasping as if burned by the boy's little hands. Absently, Lorra is irritated that she doesn't have this magic telekinetic power; she doesn't have a clue what's going on.

Ben rips himself away from them, transformed from a dark cloud of silent, sober misery to alarm. The way he retreats stuns her into thinking she did something wrong.

"I don't - !" he laments, to himself, through clenched teeth. "Why would it show me….?"

He sounds so lost, so agonized. But when he floods her space and grips her arm again, she can detect in his sharpened face something vulnerable like – hope. It's as intense as a storm, an electric current.

"I've been seeing things," he whispers to her, the words mad, while his eyes burn, pleading in truth. "I…How do you know, that you're not being tricked, too?"

Lorra stares back, drained. Then she becomes rigid, stubbornly clinging to her own truth. "There was a cave-in," she repeats, pleading. "Did you see it? Did you get through to her?"

"She wasn't…!" the man barks with a jut of his lips. And then all rigidity leaves him, and he leans back, hands digging into his hair and pulling.

When he resurfaces from his torment, his eyes are clear, his mouth set in a tight line. "Can you walk? Show me. Show me where."

Sssssss

They trudge back up where they came. Ben carries the boy in his arms, a small, soft, warm and wriggly little thing. It's his thoughts that are heavier with each beat of his heart.

Not possible, his thoughts whir in sharp reminder. This can't be possible! I just talked to a spirit about this.

Rey was… dead. The truth was burned into the shadow of his body where he held her; where he now held this boy who showed him Rey when she was alive. The boy's grasp of the Force ebbed between strong and gentle, like that of an infant's fist around something of fascination, sure and clumsy in such little hands.

Ben felt the space sweep under him as he saw her, his perception of the Jedi mixed with the helpless boy's: she stood taller, a pillar of strength and light and overwhelming goodness.

Ben shivered at the memory. He nearly could have let himself adrift in the boy's sensory transfer.

He could have slapped this girl, Lorra, for denying it all. For stubbornly chirping that Rey was alive, and for leaving her behind in some cave-in. Rey could be suffocating, crushed underneath.

He should have come here sooner. If only he wasn't so weak to have been swayed by a vision, of Rey already dead. Is this even true?! The desperation seeps back into his pores. His lungs feel tight.

Ben nearly stops in his tracks, stunned at the fear that, if this chit of a girl is right – if Rey has been suffocating in some cave-in this whole time, while he sniveled at ghosts -

A quick tug from the little boy holds Ben fast. A reminder: they're on their way. He just has to hold on.

"Down that way," Lorra croaks behind them.

Ben opens his eyes, staring down the narrow opening. What just consumed him - the cold, sick fog of despair – echoes strongly ahead. It's ominous, stronger than where they came from. By reason, they should avoid it.

Rey could be down there. Rey could be alive, down there. His torment may end a few steps beyond this direction. The nightmare, the agony of less than an hour ago, of leaving her body behind, may indeed be nothing.

He almost feels weightless: he doesn't know what to believe anymore, what's real and what's not. He may be stuck in this purgatory forever, but for right now, he thinks he can stomach false hope again.

Behind him, Lorra shivers. "What is that?"

Ben cocks his head. "Something's down there."

Lorra's adrenaline pricks. "Is it a Sithspawn?"

The Dark Side tries to push Ben out. Grimacing, he ducks his head against the echoes. I'm here, he thinks to her. I'm coming. Please be there.

Already Ben turns to set the boy down and towards Lorra. From his belt he hands Lorra his communicator to the Falcon, with instructions to use it only once they reach the surface – should he be crushed, too. If the Dark Side has been working so hard to hold him hostage, he won't remove these two's chances of escape from Kaidos.

"Stay here," he tells them.

He thinks to ignite Rey's saber again, an absurd idea that her precious weapon will draw her out.

Something truly is down there, and it's not just whispers. It breathes with coiled malice.

His eyes finally catch something: on the ground, bleeding from some rubble, is a sickly green glow; the telltale glow of a lightsaber.

In a snap of movement, Ben reaches out, grasping the stress and fault lines of the half-ruined space: Where can he manipulate the Force, where can he sort through the rubble, set it aside? Rocks and jagged slabs growl in protest, peeling away, first quivering to reflect Ben's too-cautious calculation, then faster and less gainly.

I see it, I see you – his breathing braces, sure that her image will pop out of nowhere, she'll be fine – she'll be slumped, motionless –

But it's all wrong.

A life-form, half-eclipsed by the green light – It's so large, half-covered in something thick, wrapped around her, latched onto her -

Ben gasps. "Rey – !"

Sssssss

"I won't ever let you go, Rey," her Ben, her dark knight, murmurs into her ear, into her blood.

His hands and mouth clench around her so tightly that she sees stars. Stars, she is being consumed. Oxygen is siphoned out of her like sap, slow and sickly-sweet. It's so thick and oppressive, yet Rey is sure she has never felt so loved and wanted in her life.

She has hugged and been hugged by friends: Finn, Poe, Jess, Leia. Even Luke. She finds she craves it soon after she learns she has people to do it with. This is all-encompassing. She knew, she knew that Ben, her shadow-king, her demon love, would embrace her like this. He holds her like he could feed off her, like he could join them together as one body so they would never have to part again.

She is being dragged into some dreamlike high, she's sure of it. It's her wounds. She's tired. He'll take care of her. Nothing matters. She can rest now.

Until their little pocket of space, all theirs, is being peeled away. She can't see, can only faintly feel, as something cold and violent begins to jerk them apart.

Ssssss

He moves without intent, all instinct. The saber's tempered fire lashes out, an extension of his arm and his terrified fury. He thinks in the split seconds of time that he sees Rey's brown hair, only her hair. Her face is obscured by the serpentine creature.

The thing must be as long as he is tall – hopefully not more. Ben brings the saber down too quickly, slicing the dark thing's skin. It rears its head in a howl: a mouth drips in brilliant fluids and tangled teeth.

It's had its mouth on Rey, and Ben finds himself roaring in return. The saber is ill-matched – he could burn her. He casts out the Force and violently sets to pull the Sithspawn off Rey. He will rip it in two, tendon and bone.

"Itik niant ji!" Get off her! he bellows, unthinking of the Sith tongue.

The serpent burrows deep into its own tangle around her, fighting off the Force.

I will choke you, Ben burns his thoughts forward. I will rip you to pieces and grind you to dust.

He thinks of the lightning that had sprung, long premature, from his fingers. Dark energy bounces off Ben's power in waves. He feels dulled, underwater.

No use….?

The Light. He must change tactics. The Light swells and beats under his skin, yearning to prove itself to him.

He changes course, lets the Light channel through his veins. It seems to sting the creature, yowling and writhing. The creature is half- pulled off her, drawn tight like a bowstring, until suddenly it lets go and flies into Ben's direction.

The thing splays out – so it has limbs, hidden in the folds of its skin – ready to pounce on Ben mid-flight. His saber is ready to tear it down.

Hot fluid bursts from the saber, from monstrous flesh, dousing Ben's arms. The Sithspawn curdles an awful scream, landing on Ben. The impact nearly knocks him to the ground, but he claws at the thing and wrestles it down. Even half-cut, it's still freakish-strong, wriggling for dominance.

The tail - a tentacle? – squeezes Ben's saber hand away. Hot, rank air moves over him. The Sithspawn must be staring right at him. He tries to spiral his power out, to bind the creature from smothering him, too – Godsdammit, Rey is only a few meters away –

And that's when something hot and loud shoots too close to his face.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Lorra quakes.

Doesn't matter, Ben thinks, it's just what he needs. He doubles down on his focus, clearing away the conflict, all that matters is removing this nuisance.

Let the Light in.

Anger, he knows, will spur him on, will increase his strength tenfold, but it's too much in this storm. He needs something tempered. It's been so long; how to attack while exuding serenity?

He thinks of all the voices, all the cries that will always stir in his head. This he may offer; a sacrifice of sorts. This one speck of Dark Side Energy is one step closer.

Help me, he pleads, face open with supplication, thrown upward as he braces his arms over the jaw, the neck, anything.

He begs the Light, allowing all of his wounds and sins for examination. Help me. I'm yours again. Let me save her.

The jaw gives out first. The animal's shock is enough time for Ben to inhale, adjust his grip on the neck, and twist one more time.

The Force simmers with relief; it's dead, no more. Ben breathes it in, once, before blinking and crawling over to Rey.

Sssssssssssss

Lorra gasps, grounding herself to the unexpected warmth of the blaster's barrel. She just shot that thing - at her rescuer.

She hears that slimy, squealing thing snap, crunch, and then thankfully the human male breathes heavily. Kriff – is Ben okay?

When she swallows her dry throat and asks, she hears frantic shuffling and his voice, choked yet flat.

"Rey – Rey, can you hear me? Wake up. LORRA."

Shaken at the command, Lorra scrambles forward, knees weak. He takes something from his belt – a torch, and drops it to the ground. Clear light bounces further than the saber, and Lorra recognizes Rey's form: her threadbare clothes, her bare legs and arms (an arm and calf covered in dried blood), and –

Lorra gasps. There are…bumps? Lesions? Neon blue, definitely poisonous. They're along Rey's neck, and when she gets closer, they trail up to her temple. One eye looks madly infected.

She's also not moving.

"Shit, is she alive?" she squeaks.

Ben looks stunned in disbelief. Like he can't believe she's right there. He touches her wrist. She thinks his hand is shaking. "Yes. Yes, she's…"

He said earlier he doesn't know what's real. Struck by the need to escape, to leave, Lorra touches Rey. She's cold, dry-skinned, but there, under her fingertips. "Yep, she's real. Let's go, I want to go home, let's go!"

Ssssss

An old Corellian ship purrs above them in minutes. It hovers awkwardly above the bowl-shaped clearing Ben and Lorra came from hours beforehand. Both shudder for different reasons at the area before they rush to the landing ramp.

Lorra can only think, maybe this is real, too. All the lights and the sound and the size of this battered junkbucket overwhelm her, in the purgatory of her mind.

Someone eclipsed in light from inside the ship grabs her hand, hauling her in. Already she feels the ground underneath Joah's dead mother's flimsy slippers waver underneath. Maybe it's from the ship, maybe the shock of rescue rendering her limbs numb.

It won't have anything to do with the man's face – a face she has known, but never seen in real life – until later. Much later.

Not when Ben and another man, and several others, crowd and shout over Rey.