Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. If I owned either, things would be different in the EU, or in Love Never Dies. All italics are from the Phantom of the Opera musical and I don't own them in any way shape or form.
A/N: This was written for the Dare Challenge over on the Jedi Council Forums (boards . the force . net) - my dare was to write a crossover between Star Wars and a Broadway musical of my choice. With my recent adoration among Broadway musicals being The Phantom of the Opera, I could not resist. So, I put Erik into the Yuuzhan Vong War in the New Jedi Order. There is a lot more of the tale to be told, but I don't think I'm going to be telling it, as I lack the time to do so and it would be a long and complicated story. All the same, don't forget to review!
There is war in the galaxy.
"So, it is to be war between us! If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!"
This war against the Yuuzhan Vong is not the only war this man has fought, but this one is not one of his own making. He is a different man than he was when he started the last one.
"I gave you my music… Made your song take wing… And now, how you've repaid me: denied me and betrayed me…."
Somehow, the man that he had been – the so-called Opera Ghost – was nothing but a dream. Or so he keeps telling himself. Sometimes, he is not so sure. Sometimes, he wonders if he really did all of those things. He has been told that he was in a coma, caused by the Empire's violent occupation of his homeworld in the aftermath of the Galactic Civil War.
"Masquerade! Paper faces on parade…Masquerade…"
Most days, he thinks that this – this life – is the one that is the result of a blow to the head. It is too fantastical for his mind to wrap around. But, he has to remind himself, his home was nothing like the rest of the galaxy with its still primitive technology and mechanics.
"Let the dream begin… Let your darker side give in…to the power of the words that I write…"
There are many times when he ponders to himself… What if he really is the Phantom? What if… There are too many times like that. Too many times when he has these memories flashing through his mind, as if they are real, too…
Five years previously (22 ABY)
The theater was dark save for the stage. It was full of people, packed to the brim. On stage, the set was a riot of warm colors – browns, tans, reds, oranges. The girl's voice rang high and clear as she sang. Her voice was beautiful: a symphony in its own right.
Another voice joined her moments later. This voice was deeper, a man's voice. He stepped from behind the curtains Don Juan had gone behind only a moment before. He was cloaked in the darkest of charcoal, the coal draped over his head, hiding the man – or monster – within. This was his time. He was the master of the pieces on this chess board. He – the Phantom of the Opera – would win no matter what.
"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent…"
Christine started, her eyes wide as she sees him for the first time. She paused for a moment as he continued, his voice ringing proudly. Fear lit her eyes as she realized who it was who sang to her. There was a moment when the Phantom sang that she tried to leave the stage, only to be forced to stay there…with the man she feared the most. There was nothing she could do.
"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence…"
They sang together. That was all Christine could do, and that was all Erik wanted for the moment. But that was not all that he wanted – he pulled a ring from his finger, holding it out to her as the audience seemed to realize what was happening. This was the dreaded Opera Ghost… Silence reigned but for the Phantom's voice serenading her, but they knew. They knew. She took the ring, sliding it onto her finger.
"Say you want me with you, here beside you… Anywhere you go let me go too – Christine, that's all I ask of…"
His voice cut off when she reached up and calmly revealed his deformed face to the crowds. An instant later, both of them vanished beneath his dark cloak. Chaos began. That was the last of what anyone - save for two people - saw of the Opera Ghost. After that day, many said he disappeared, some said he died. No one ever really knew. The mob that went looking for him found nothing but the cold white mask he had worn.
Most of the time, he can feel when the memories are going to overwhelm him. A throbbing headache forms and he is sent into a spiraling wave of doubt that he has to pull himself out of. He knows that he is Erik, but he struggles to be able to tell which Erik he is.
"No more memories, no more silent tears… No more gazing across the wasted years… Help me say goodbye…"
He has two sets of memories. It is seamless how some of them filter into his thoughts and the way he acts. He hates them. Half of them are the memories of a murderer – they belong to the Phantom of the Opera, not him. Or maybe it is him. He can never tell.
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while – please, promise me you'll try."
Christine stands out the most in his memories of the Phantom's days. He can't help but find himself falling in love with the girl from memories. She is beautiful and her voice is that of an angel. No wonder the Phantom fell in love with her – who could not? But even this angel is not enough to draw his mind away from the foul creature he could be.
"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind…"
As the months pass, he realizes how much he has changed. Fighting the memories does not come easily, but fighting this war does. Whoever he is, it has given him purpose. He has a new reason to live, which he did not as the Phantom. Or was it as the city boy who had been in so much pain? He does not know. He does not remember.
"Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Come to me, strange angel..."
He does not know how he got to where he is. The last thing he remembers as the Phantom is despair clutching at him as he left the place he had called home. The last thing he remembers from his other life is falling when an explosion rocked the ground.
"Sing once again with me our strange duet… My power over you grows stronger yet…"
But so long as he has a place in the galaxy, he knows what he must do. He must keep fighting these memories, and he must keep fighting this war. Maybe one day he will meet the famed Jedi…. Maybe one of them can help him. He can only hope…
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… Let me lead you from your solitude…"
As more time goes on, he can only start to realize – whoever he is, this is his place. He has been an instrumental part of several battles…but he always seems to disappear when they are over. It seems that he cannot leave behind all of the mannerisms of the Phantom that haunts his mind. He knows what they call him. In some ways it gives him a sense of pride to hear it. Even to the day where he makes one move that is too risky and pays for it. Even to the day he dies – he is proud of it.
"And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the Opera is there - inside your mind…"
He is the Phantom of the Stars.