Luke Skywalker (theskywalker) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-06-07 14:48:00 |
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Luke sighed. He felt tired, old. He paced the hall away from the Grand Council chamber, moving toward his quarters. What had possessed him to once more take up the grandmastership of the order? He was tired and his days of leading were over, or so he thought. His son was grown and with a child of his own, and students of his own, and Luke? Luke all too often felt like a relic of times past. He lived on, and so many he had known did not. He was preserved, in part, he knew, by the Force, and by the way he exercised and stayed active. Some days that seemed enough, and others, it felt like maybe he was just holding on to hold on. Even if he was in as good a shape, and better, really, than a Jedi half his age, he still felt old. When it happened, it was sudden, and between one step and the next, he was suddenly elsewhere. He was suddenly in a city unlike any he had seen. It was... odd. And the people spoke a language that, until he concentrated on the Force, did not make sense to him. Once he let the Force flow through him, the language settled in him, and he nodded slowly as he listened and looked around, striving to understand. Before he could do much, a familiar sound came; screams. Muscles and instincts honed over most of his life went into effect and he ran toward the sounds, lightsaber coming off of his belt and into his hand with a motion almost negligible. He charged around a corner to see things, obviously artificial in some way, attacking people, hurting them. There wasn't any hesitation in him as he hurled himself forward against the tide of things pouring out of some sort of truck. His lightsaber swung in and an arc, and heads and arms separated from bodies as he hurled into the crowd of things. One child, a young girl, was being hit by two of them, and he slammed into them with his power, shoving them back, before placing her behind him, his saber hissing as it came to ready post, and the things charged him. He had placed himself between them and their victims, and as his body was fighting them, his mind was in the Force reaching out and feeling for them. He could feel a power animating them, and forcing them onward, but no sentience in them, themselves, and he nodded as he reached out for it, even as he dove and swayed in the Force, his saber weaving a deadly net across his path, catching any of them that moved close. Finally he felt the power source and he struck at it like a knife, using the Force to sever the power from these things, slicing it cleanly. With a thunder of sound, the statue things fell, and were silent. Luke shook his head and moved among them, saber rising and falling as he cut them into pieces. His severance wouldn't last, and they would rise again if they could. When he paused, he looked around and several people were staring at him. Seeing him done, there were suddenly cries, and he shook his head. This at least, he understood. People never changed. There was a tugging at his tunic and he looked down, turning off his lightsaber as the young girl tugged again. He knelt, and smiled at her. "Don't worry. You're safe now. They wont hurt you again." She smiled at him and threw her arms around him, and he blushed, and then hugged the girl, feeling a surge of happiness touch him. As she let go, and scampered off, she glanced back and waved, and he waved at her in return, then turned to go. He had to find... then he stumbled. The absence of the battle cleared his mind and the Force, filling him, suddenly shone from one mind in particular. Mara!! His cry cut across the Force with a longing and hope that surprised him, and his love surged to the fore. Luke shook his head, turned toward the direction he could feel her presence, and started off. He felt another presence, one he would have to deal with later, but for now... nothing was more important that Mara. Nothing. As he started forward, he realized... he felt young. |