Broken and Bound

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The cage was a little taller than him. He picked himself up from the icy floor and found he could stand upright with room to spare. The bars were black and thick, through which he saw a great field of tall green grass. A distant hedgerow enclosed the field neatly on all four sides. He had been imprisoned at its centre. He pulled at the bars but they stood firm. Resigned to his fate, he slumped against them and sighed.

Something stirred amongst the grass. He held is breath and took a step back. A silver colt limped into view and collapsed with a huff. He crouched down near the bars and stared curiously at the beast. Its leg was broken. When he reached out to it the horse flinched away from him.

"Don't be afraid," he said, "I won't hurt you."

"You already have, fool!" the horse replied.

"You can talk?" he asked, startled. "I didn't know horses could talk."

"I could run too, before you landed on me."

"I don't understand. How did I land on you?"

"When you fell from the sky in that blasted cage!"

The colt was very unhappy and snorted. Holding onto his prison bars, he looked up and saw the sky. He gasped. A turbulent vortex of red and black fumes rumbled high above him. It crackled angrily. He looked to the injured horse again.

"I came from there?"

"Believe me, I wish you hadn't," the horse grumbled.

"I'm sorry I-"

His apology was cut short by something which had caught his eye. He saw a light and turned towards it. It was a key, floating in the air, golden and bright. He cheered and lunged forward, pressing himself tight against the bars, and reached out. The key was too far. He stretched further but to no success. In frustration, he tugged at the bars a couple of times then turned back to the horse, who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Will you help me?"

"Absolutely not!" the horse scoffed and looked away from him.

"Please, I can't do it on my own. I can't stay locked up like this forever!"

"And if I help you, the sky will eat you up only for you to try and squash me again. No thanks. You're better off there."

"You're wrong," he said, then pushed himself up against the cage, pleading: "Please, help me get free and if you do, I will heal your broken leg."

The silver colt raised its head, and slowly turned to look at him. His eyes narrowed.

"How?"

"I am a healer. I could mend that leg of yours before you could say 'Fresh Alderaan Oats'."

"Throw in the oats and you have a deal."

"Deal!"

The colt stared at him for a moment, then painfully stood. It limped across to the golden key and clamped it between its large teeth. Carefully, the horse approached the cage and lowered its head. They key slotted neatly into the lock and the horse turned its head. There was a click and the cage door swung open. The horse backed away and out ran the captive. He embraced the horse and stroked its dirty hair. The beast started and yelled.

"Look out!"

An ominous shadow loomed overhead and grew larger, shunning the light of day. The sky crackled. He looked up and cried out as a giant black spider descend upon him.


Lorca opened his eyes. He felt like he was submerged to his neck in warm water and knew that his captors had drugged him again. His eyes rolled in his head. A black haze filled the room. There was a voice from far away, almost too quiet to hear.

"It's your shift so don't screw up. Remember, when his pupils start to dilate give him a booster."

Despite the drugs, when he turned to find the man speaking his entire body ached. Something moved in the dark and struck him in the face. It stung like a thousand cuts had just reopened. He reeled in the chair and felt the wire around his wrists and ankles tear at his skin. The room turned sideways and his head hit the cold floor. The black haze enveloped him once more.

[Kale]

It was never quiet in the machine works of Coruscant, down among the stories-tall air reclamators, water purifiers, refineries, waste compactors, pumps, gears, generators, compressors - all the mechanisms that ran endlessly at ground level and below to keep the Imperial City functioning.

In a city of hundred-billions, there were few places that were wholly uninhabitable, but even the most desperate ground-dwellers avoided the machine districts. Safety measures were reserved for mid- and upper-level facilities; here there was always a danger of being caught in the mechanisms, blasted by exposed current, or sprayed with toxic coolant or lubricant. But for those clever enough or reckless enough to navigate the maze of access tunnels and moving parts, it was a premium hiding place.

Kale knew because he'd hidden in this very complex years ago.

Little had changed in that time - more grease on the floor grates, a few passages clogged with discarded scrap metal. But Kale hadn't come down here to relive childhood memories. It had been bad enough the first time around. He'd come because it was the only way he could think of to reach the warehouse where they were holding Lorca without coming through the front door.

The teenaged boy threaded his way cautiously through corridors and catwalks and, sometimes, across the pipes and conduits that fed the gargantuan machines, until at last he found himself perched on a service balcony directly over the warehouse roof. He climbed under the pipe railing, dangled, and dropped eight feet, rolling as he hit the metal rooftop.

Obviously he'd need to find a different route out. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. And, with a little luck, burn it behind him.

There was a large ventilation conduit yawning open a few yards away, but ventilation ducts weren't his preferred mode of sneaking around. You never wanted to run into an industrial fan by accident.

But there was a trapdoor for roof access from inside. The padlock was no obstacle for him. He reached into it with the Force and gave the little internal gears and springs a mechanical aneurysm. It popped off harmlessly, and he pulled the door open and swung himself down into the darkness below.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

For the first time in two days, his face was wet from something other than his own blood. Droplets of cool water splashed against his filthy skin and he licked his hard cracked lips. Roused, he became aware of a conversation between two men. They whispered quickly with panic in their voices.

"Don't give him too much."

"Are you an idiot? He hasn't had a sip yet."

"We don't want his strength to return."

"We don't want him to die either. Unless you want to kiss your 100k good-bye."

"Ok... go on."

The neck of a bottle was thrust into Lorca's mouth, and with what strength he had he wrapped his lips firmly around it and drank. The cold water was as welcome and refreshing as the first rain upon the sun-scorched earth. His captor snatched the bottle out of his mouth. He opened his glassy eyes.

"P- pl- please," he pleaded.

"He's talking!" shouted the closest of the two men, he dropped the water bottle.

"You gave him too much! I told you!"

"Quick, get another dose of that white dren."

The other man almost fell out of his seat then scrambled across the room to a table full of macabre instruments common in medicine and torture. From a green box he retrieved a syringe. His comrade grew agitated.

"Hurry up, man. Before he..."

He returned with the needle and was horrified to find his prisoner sat upright and glaring fiercely at him. His body suddenly tensed up and his eyes bulged in their sockets. He looked to his comrade, who was staring up at him with bloodshot eyes, clutching desperately at his throat. He spluttered and choked.

Slowly, he approached his prisoner and held the syringe aloft. Lorca's gaze grew intense and he fell to his knees, dropping the instrument. He clawed at his throat, the colour in his face faded, and before he passed out he was able to see the prisoner being smashed across the face with the butt of a repeating blaster.

[Kale]

"Frack. That was too close." The man with the repeating rifle turned to find his partner crumpled to the floor. "Aw, feth!"

He left Lorca, dazed from the blow to the face, and stumbled toward the unconscious man, casting about for the syringe. At last he saw it glinting in the shadows - it was rolling away toward the stack of crates at the other end of the room. He lunged after it, awkwardly, but it kept rolling.

The thug pursued it but tripped over a snaking power cord, dropping to all fours. The syringe stopped just beyond his reach. And then began to hover.

He stared at it uncomprehendingly as it slowly spun in the air as if suspended by a string. And then it plunged toward him, needle-first, and sunk into his neck.

"Dah!" The man backpedaled and clawed wildly, but by the time he yanked the syringe from his throat, he could see the white fluid inside was gone. That was his last lucid thought before his eyes glassed over and he dropped to the floor in a psychotropic stupor.

And then, in the dark space between the crates, a shadow moved cautiously forward. When no one came to answer the commotion, the shadow stepped out into the light and became a scrawny adolescent boy. He hurried across the warehouse floor and toward the bound Jedi.

"Aw, frell... Lorca... Lorca, it's me. Kale!" He grabbed at the water bottle and, with trembling hands, raised it back up to Lorca's lips.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

In the pale glow of one solitary lamp, Lorca saw the silver colt standing before him. In a display of unnatural agility, the horse offered him water. He sucked on the bottle and drained it of its contents. Painfully, he grinned, his teeth were stained pink.

"You're not Kale. But thanks, buddy."

He moved to pat the animal's white nose but felt the sting of wire around his wrists and winced.

"Reckon you-" he paused, and spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. "Reckon you could nibble your way through these things, fella?"

[Kale]

Kale's eyebrows knit together in confusion - and then he saw how dilated and bloodshot Lorca's eyes were. "Krasst, they've really got you hopped up, haven't they? Listen, if I get you out of this, can you walk?"

He dropped the empty bottle and scrambled around Lorca's back. The knots were too tight for him to shift, so he attacked the wire with his pocketknife.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

He felt the large horse teeth chomp away at the wiring behind him and his hands and feet came free of the chair. He groaned, the sudden release sent sharp stinging pangs from his wrists and ankles. He slumped forward, exhausted, and muttered.

"Why did you come back?"

[Kale]

Kale stowed his knife and hopped to his feet. He glanced around hurriedly to make sure the warehouse was still clear.

"I came back because... because I have some questions, and you're the only person I know who can answer them."

It was a half-truth, but it was all he had time for. He bent down and pulled on Lorca's shoulders, none too gently, trying to shift him. "Come on. I need you up and moving. Those slimeballs had friends, and they aren't far off."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"You're a strong one!"

Lorca found himself on his feet and propped up by the friendly horse. The room began to sway like it were out at sea and he rocked with it. Slowly, awkwardly, they crossed the room and approached a door he'd never seen before. He felt the colt's tail brush up against his leg and chuckled.

"Did you ever hear a song called Little Donkey? Would you like me to sing it for you?"

[Kale]

"Dang it, Lorca!" Kale hissed. "We need to keep it down!"

Kale supported Lorca as well as he could, but if they ran into trouble, there would be no way they could run unless Lorca could support himself.

It only belatedly occurred to him that he really should have picked up that repeating blaster before leaving the room. But what they needed more than weapons was out.

The door had opened onto a dark cul-de-sac. The only exit was the street in front of the warehouse, which would be closely watched.

The only obvious exit, that was.

Kale conducted Lorca to the back of the cul-de-sac and left him leaning against the duracrete wall. After a few moments' searching, he found what he was looking for - a steam vent for the industrial furnace behind the warehouse. The furnace was long defunct, and Kale knew there was a hole in the steam duct that opened into the furnace's underworks. From there, he could find his way somewhere safe for Lorca to recuperate.

He got on his hands and knees and tugged at the vent grating - at last it came free. "Come on," he whispered, "get in!"

There was a shout from inside the warehouse, and Kale started. "Come on! Go!"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Collapsed against the wall, Lorca put his face in his hands. His head spun and his body ached all over. A pink haze was setting in thick and fast. He heard the shout from the warehouse and startled, stood upright. A rush of adrenaline cleared his head a little and the pink haze receeded. He threw an apprehensive look at the horse upon hearing its demand.

So far, the trusty young colt had lead him to safety but Lorca feared that was about to change now that it was trying to get him into a pipe. He gauged the dark maw before him and staggered towards it. He smiled sheepishly at the horse and tickled it behind the ear.

"You haven't lead me astray so far, boy. I trust you."

He fell down onto his hands and knees and disappeared inside making horse noises.

[Kale]

Kale waited impatiently as Lorca ducked through the steam vent and began crawling down the sloped tunnel - he couldn't move fast enough for the teenager's liking.

He was about to dive in himself when he heard a jostling noise behind the alley-side door they'd just escaped through - the escape route would do little good if the gangsters knew which way they'd gone. They could flood the vent with blaster bolts and pull out whatever charred flesh was left at their leisure.

Thinking quickly, Kale grabbed the grate and slammed it back into place over the vent. Then he sat back against it and froze.

And, clutching the crystal pendant he wore around his neck, he drew the Force around him like a blanket.

Three heavies poured out through the door - a Gran, a human, and a Nausicaan, all of them armed and angry. "They had to have come this way!" the human snarled. "They can't have got far - Orsk, check down the alley! Skrall, with me!"

The Gran prowled slowly down toward the street as the human and Nausicaan turned the other direction and combed the alley walls, sweeping every brick with their heavy repeaters. Skrall kicked at a pile of garbage bags, scattering refuse onto the asphalt. The two thugs met at the end of the cul-de-sac and paused right in front of the steam vent.

"Looks airtight to me," Skrall growled.

"You think they climbed up the wall?" the human asked, staring up the sheer duracrete surface. "What if they flew?"

"Flew?" Skrall peeled back his mandibles in scorn.

"Well, he was a frellin' Forcer."

As they deliberated, Kale sat motionless not six inches away from their grimy boots. If either of them shifted just a little, they'd step right on him.

Skrall's bony nostrils flared. "Maybe they're invisible."

Kale's heart began pounding as the Nausicaan, unseeing, swung his gun just inches from his forehead.

"Aw, now you're high," the human said. "Come on, nothin' here but a dead end. Maybe Orsk had more luck."

Only when the two gangsters had disappeared around the street corner did Kale resume breathing.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The pipe grew dark the further Lorca descended. A putrid stench festered in the air and he seemed to be heading in the direction of its origin. A few times he had to swallow hard to stop himself from being overcome by the smell. There wasn't enough girth to the pipe for him to turn around should he need to and as he plodded along, he realised the unnatural swaying had stopped. Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable on all fours now that it was pitch black.

He placed his palm in something very greasy and his arm slipped, sending him flat on his face. His entire body was propelled into a steady slide; the decline was gentle but the interior of the pipe was caked in a slippery substance akin to oil. A light at the end of the tunnel grew large and bright. Lorca clutched at the sides of the pipe in desperation but it was too smooth and wet to create any kind of friction. He came to the opening and fell clumsily through it and dropped several feet into a murky pool of water.

[Kale]

There was a muffled metal thunk from further up the pipe and then a slick rasping sound. Moments later, Kale dropped from the duct's aperture feet-first into the black, oily water. They were in a broad duracrete basin riddled with pipes and hoses and massive upright tanks with water lines several meters above the floor. This had once been a heat sink for the local machine works and used to be full of water; all that was left was shin-deep industrial slime.

Kale quickly knelt over Lorca, who was covered in the noxious stuff. "Lorca? Lorca, can you hear me?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Repulsed, Lorca dragged a hand across his face to remove the slimey residue. His face-first fall into the shallow pool had given him a rude awkening. He sat stupified by his predicament and was unaware of the new arrival - then he heard his voice. Startled, he looked up.

"Kale!" he cried.

A broad smile stretched across his filthy, swollen face. He jumped to his feet and embraced the youngster, coating him in a layer of sludge. Stepping back, he placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and stared at him with wonder.

"What are you doing here?"

[Kale]

The hug was unexpected, and not entirely welcome. Kale cringed as he felt the oily water on Lorca's shirt soaking through his clothes.

"Nice to see you finally back on terra firma. I'm tryin' to rescue you. But we ain't out of danger yet. Come on!"

He extricated himself and sloshed his way through the shallow water between two looming turbines. As he walked, he reached down the front of his collar and pulled out something Lorca had seen before - an Agedan crystal. He'd soldered a metal ring to the end of it and was wearing it on a cord around his neck. With loving care, he wiped it clean on part of his shirt that wasn't soiled.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca hesitated, and glanced up at the chute through which they had fallen. He looked puzzled and narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you think we ought to wait for the..."

He stopped himself from saying what he was about to say and lowered his hand, which had been pointing at the pipe. Kale was preoccupied with something. Lorca frowned and glanced at the pipe again. He shook his head and limped through the water after the boy.

"Are you alright?"

[Kale]

Kale quickly dropped the crystal back down his collar. "You're the one who's had nine kinds of dren kicked out of you. You worry about yourself."

The boy wove his way through the pipes and conduits that criss-crossed the cooling tank until he found a service ladder. "How'd you get yourself captured by those brainwastes in the first place?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

There was a clang and Lorca reeled unsteadily away from a low pipe. He rubbed his forehead and ducked under it. He paused before the ladder and guaged it carefully before giving it a couple of hefty tugs. It didn't budge.

"I was on the run. Imps had me cornered and just as I was about to be found, a couple of strangers saved me and offered me shelter in their home."

He followed Kale up the ladder, and held on extra tight.

"They hid me in their basement. I slept for fourteen hours and when I woke up, I was greeted with breakfast in basement: a toasted Surf n' Nerf sandwich and a hot mug of tea."

He halted and groaned, "I'm starving!"

[Kale]

At the top of the ladder was a trapdoor in the grating that until now had been their ceiling. It was padlocked, as Kale expected, but that wasn't much obstacle to him. The lock clicked open, and he shoved the trapdoor up and out of his way.

"I've been starving before. You'll live."

The boy hauled himself onto the grating above and leaned down to give Lorca a hand if he needed. No sooner had Lorca found his feet again than Kale was off for their next exit - this time an innocuous-looking catwalk, but he quickly abandoned it to climb onto a vibrating metal conduit that crossed the room about thirty feet above the floor.

"Trust me, this is the quickest way. Once we get off the machine level, I know a few places we can get some food and lie low."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Below them, a vast maze of piping, catwalks, vents, and ladders, all of which Lorca could make no sense. They were high up, he knew that much and he clung to the catwalk rail until he came to the point where the conduit crossed overhead. He looked up.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

And gingerly, he propped himself up onto the catwalk rails, his fingers grappled with the dented metal conduit and he dared not look down. He swayed a little and closed his eyes. Kale offered him encouragement, and resisting the urge to wipe the cold sweat from his brow, he hoisted himself up. His stomach was in knots, and for the first time, he was conciously aware of the effect of the drugs. On all fours, he scrambled slowly after Kale, staring down at his clammy hands.

"They poisoned it."

[Kale]

Kale was on his feet and moving almost without a sound. If he hadn't needed to worry about Lorca keeping up, he could have sprinted across the narrow duct.

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "What? Poisoned what?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"The tea," he said.

Lorca had stopped like Kale, and his eyes were fixed on the conduit supporting him. It trembled tentatively beneath their weight, particularly his.

"The people people who took hid me from the Imperials poisoned me. They were part of that gang and they wanted to claim on the reward."

He shuffled forward a little, and the structure shook slightly. He froze.

"Can we keep moving, please?"

[Kale]

Kale watched Lorca dubiously, afraid for a moment he wouldn't be up to going any further.

"Yeah... yeah, we'd better hurry. Just about fifty meters and we can climb up to another catwalk, then a couple flights up and -"

There was a metallic clatter from one of the doors below - someone trying to force their way into the complex. Kale wheeled and scrambled down the conduit. "Okay, just follow me and don't fall behind!"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Startled to hear the sound of a door crashing open, Lorca jerked his head around to find the source of the disturbance. His clammy hands slipped against the metal and his body followed through on its own momentum. His shoulder smashed against the metal and he rolled off the conduit and plumetted.

Two stories down, he landed on a rickety catwalk and the impact sent the entire structure along with its adjoining ladders into a chorus of rattling. As he laid motionless on the cold metal, somewhere in his hazy mind he heard the distant voices of angry men.

[Kale]

Kale skidded to a stop and wheeled around to see Lorca crash painfully onto the catwalk below. For one awful moment, he thought Lorca was dead, but then the Jedi stirred groggily.

"Frell, frell, frell..." Kale ducked his head and glanced around the forest of machinery - no trace of their pursuers, though their voices were echoing all around him. But even if Lorca miraculously turned up uninjured, Kale couldn't possibly follow him - it was too far a fall, he'd break both legs and probably drop right off the edge into the nest of gears and pipes below and be torn to bits...

Don't think about it. Just act!

Without even pausing to wonder where the thought had come from, Kale launched himself, arms flailing, from the ceiling conduit. Next thing he knew, he'd hit the catwalk rolling and was on his feet again.

He stooped and tugged at Lorca's arm, not really caring whether he'd fractured anything - if they didn't get moving again, they'd have more than broken bones to worry about. "Come on! After all I've been through to save you, I'm gonna be really mad if you're just gonna lie down and quit on me!"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The sound of Kale's landing brought Lorca to his senses and he looked up. The boy was tugging at his arm but it was numb from the fall. He took a deep breath and climbed to his feet.

"I'm holding you back," he muttered, staggering with dizziness, "Go. I'll catch you up."

[Kale]

There was a loud crash that reverberated through the machine works - sounded like a door being forced. Kale flinched, then looked back at Lorca with desperation in his eyes.

"Oh, no. Oh, no you don't! You're comin' with me, or I'm stayin' here. I didn't come all this way to leave you behind!"

Lorca was still lethargic, and Kale gripped his arm again. "I need your help. I need to learn about the Force. You're the only person I know who can help me."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca's rolling eyes suddenly fixed on Kale and for the first time, he saw the boy he'd left behind six months ago. His words hit him like ice cold water and sobered, the Jedi's thoughts were awash with feelings of guilt and regret. He gripped the boys arm for support and stared down at him, his face wrought with anguish.

"I'm..."

Then without warning, he lurched forward and forced Kale to the ground under his weight. They crashed onto the unforgiving catwalk and at the same time, there was an orange flash and a hiss. Lorca rolled off the boy, and saw a piece of the catwalk had been vaporised, the remaining segments of metal to which it had been adjoined were glowing red hot. Another blaster bolt narrowly missed his shoulder and he pulled himself up.

"Kale, let's go!"

[Kale]

Kale needed little encouragement. As soon as he felt Lorca's weight off his back, he jumped to his feet and ran, scanning frantically for the first available route off the catwalk and out of the gunman's line of sight.

The catwalk crossed over a debris-strewn conveyor belt that had long gone defunct. Kale recognized it immediately - the belt led from the trash compactors to the garbage furnaces, and all along the way were various mechanical arms and rollers and mashers that separated out the garbage into different strata for processing - metal to the refineries, plastics to be melted and recycled, combustibles to be burned as fuel. The works were silent and immobile, but the huge machinery would give them far more cover than the catwalk would afford.

"Come on, this way!" Kale slipped under the sagging rail and onto the belt, turning to run what would be against the flow of garbage if the works were still operating. If they could crawl through the compactors and into a disposal chute, they could find their way out onto one of the levels above.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Promptly, Lorca gripped the rail and hurdled over it. He landed clumsily behind the boy, who took off down the long line of abandoned mechanical refuse. Where Kale nimbly navigated the larger obstructions, Lorca cleared them with hefty strides.

From somewhere within the industrial labyrinth came a volley of blaster fire, it exploded against rusty machinery next to them, sending sparks leaping into the air. Overhead, the catwalks clanged with heavy footfalls and Lorca dared a quick glance over his shoulder - two familiar thugs raced in their direction, both carrying pistols. He looked back in time to see Kale disappear into the bowels of a large compactor through it's gaping black mouth. Just as his feet faded into the gloom, Lorca dived forward and scrambled inside after him.

[Kale]

Kale wormed through the refuse until he was through the aperture and could stand again. Down the conveyor belt, about fifty meters ahead, there was a metal chute that the trash slid down from the next level.

"That's our exit. Come on, give me a hand clearin' this trash--"

There was a clank and a rumble, and the conveyor belt shuddered beneath them, throwing both of them off-balance. And then it began to move.

And Kale looked up at the banks of pistons and compressors and all sorts of chopping, crushing, smashing machinery that lined the ceiling and walls. With a groan and a hydraulic hiss, the machines started moving - reinforced durasteel plates smashing down from the ceiling or clapping together from the sides in a precisely planned sequence to ensure that no fragment of debris made it through the gauntlet unmutilated.

"Aw, frell that!"

There was another blaster report, and he jumped - two thugs had pursued them onto garbage conveyor.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca stumbled and turned upon hearing the shooting, the two thugs had followed them through the machine, and the first to come crawling out had opened fire. Ahead of them they faced a new threat, a mechanical monster sprung to life, its angry gnashing jaws closed in on them as the belt beneath their feet lead them inexorably to a messy fate. He glanced to either side, then above and below, only to find there was no other means of escape.

The second thug had joined in the shooting and a crimson blaster bolt ricocheted off the reinforced durasteel and fizzled off into the lower levels. He turned again to face them, there was a low rumble and he pushed out his open palm. Both men were propelled off their feet and crashed into the machinery behind them, they fell to their hands and knees and one lost his weapon over the edge of the conveyor belt.

"Try to relax. We need to time this just right," he said, turning back to the youngster. They approached the first of the mashing plates, once they were past them, the next would be right on top of them, then the next and the next. He inhaled steadily.

"Ready?"

[Kale]

Relax? Yeah, Kale had always found the prospect of running through a giant meat grinder relaxing...

Relax. Trust your instincts. Let the Force be your guide.

Kale reached up and felt the weight of the Adegan crystal against his breastbone.

"Ready - wait... wait... now!"

The piston right in front of them had just fired, and as it retracted they rushed forward, keeping pace with the conveyor belt as it threatened to sweep them back into their pursuers - and before Kale had time to think, he and Lorca were darting forward again between a pair of horizontal jaws which slammed together right behind them.

The piston directly overhead hissed, and Kale could sense the tension building in the hydraulics that would send it crashing down to make him less than a centimeter tall -

And they dove forward again just as the jaws before them opened.

They charged through onto another conveyor belt, this one with open slats to let small bits of garbage fall into the waiting furnaces below - it shook like a sifter, nearly pitching the two fugitives off their feet and back into the smashing, grinding machinery.

A blaster bolt whizzed by Kale's ear. One of the thugs, the Nausicaan, was following them into the compressors, vying for a clear shot while weaving through the machinery.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"There it is!" Lorca shouted.

They were less than twenty meters away from the chute, Lorca quickly followed in Kale's agile footsteps, fighting to maintain balance against the shaking. There was an agonised scream; behind them, the Nausicaan's friend lost his leg from the knee down to a pair of grinding pistons. The Nausicaan, however, was undeterred and pursued them despite losing his footing to the shaking conveyor belt.

"You first."

Lorca came to a halt before the chute, and crouched, cupping his hands together before him for Kale to use. He nodded up.

[Kale]

Startled by the scream, Kale shot a glance back over his shoulder. The Nausicaan was still bearing down on them - he was almost through the machines.

Kale planted his foot in Lorca's hands and gripped the sides of the chute to pull himself up. The metal surface was greasy with questionable residues, but he found enough traction to brace himself against the chute walls and start working his way up.

"Come on!"

Behind them, the Nausicaan slipped past the last piston and leveled his blaster pistol at Lorca's back.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

The pistol leapt out of the Nausicaan's grip and landed firmly in Lorca's hand. He faced the stunned alien, and aimed the weapon at its head. His glare was fierce and cold, the Force was with him and he could still taste the blood in his mouth.

"What kind of reward is there for bringing in scum like you?"

The hot innards of the blaster whined in anticipation as his finger slipped over the trigger.

"Dead or alive?"

The Nausicaan raised his hands fearfully. Lorca clenched his jaw and cast the weapon down into the bowels of the industrial jungle.

"Thanks for the tea."

And with that, he turned and disappeared up the chute.

[Kale]

After a laborious climb, Kale and Lorca emerged from the chute four levels up in an abandoned industrial district, but they didn't stop there. Kale led the way through back alleys and accessways, up maintenance stairwells and across seldom-used skybridges until they came to an old, dilapidated mission he'd used as a safehouse and a drop point before. It was reasonably clean, though the rooms had long been stripped bare to the duracrete floors and cinder block walls.

"We can rest here for a while," Kale said, slumping down against one of the walls in what once had been a bedroom. "But we'll need to get some food and find some way to wash these clothes, or get new ones." The boy smirked impudently. "You smell like a decaying bantha."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"I feel like one."

Lorca slid heavily into one of the corners of the room. A blanket of dust lifted into the air and danced in a shaft of light which plunged in through a broad window overhead, painting the bare walls in a murky terracotta. Even from his position on the floor, he could make out snaking columns of smoke from the surrounding factories outside.

"Where are we?"

[Kale]

"Morag District," Kale replied. "We're still about thirty levels below where you can see honest-to-goodness sunlight. We're in the lowest part of the Southern Underground."

Somewhere, out in the distance, there was a yell - an angry drunk, a mugging victim, a glitterhead on a bad trip - down here, it didn't really matter.

"I used to live about ten blocks from here, five levels up. After my mother di--"

He laid his hand over the bulge of the Adegan crystal beneath his shirt. "Disappeared."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Pleasant neighbourhood."

From between his knees, he breathed steadily and stared at his ragged boots. He tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach and picked dry blood from under his fingernails. Somewhere outisde, two or more men were shouting obscenities at each other, their cursing echoed clearly. Lorca frowned, when he spoke he was suprised at how gruff his voice sounded. He did not look at Kale.

"How did you ever get a decent night's sleep around here?"

[Kale]

"Just shut it out," Kale said. "As long as it's someone else's problem, you can always shut it out."

Lorca wasn't looking at him, but he looked at Lorca. He looked hard, as if he was waiting for something.

And maybe he was.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

There was something really alien in Kale's voice, in what he said and how he said it. There was probably a little part of Lorca which winced when the boy spoke like this but he was presently too numb to feel anything. Someone so young shouldn't have to learn such lessons but here he was, teaching him the art of surviving a life no man should have to endure.

A long silence passed between the pair, and Lorca's mind mulled over the time he first met Kale and his desperate desire to help the boy to a better life. For a moment, he felt like he did those months ago and looked up. Kale was watching him. He forced a weak smile.

"Thank you, Kale, for coming for me. You saved me."

[Kale]

When Lorca lifted his eyes, Kale dropped his. A nearly invisible shrug was his only response.

"I didn't do it 'cause I felt sorry for you. I did it 'cause I need your help. 'Cause you're the only one who knows... about me."

It came out clumsily, as if, after sneaking through the machinery works, evading an armed gang, and slogging through a trash compactor, this was the part he'd been dreading.

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"That's true. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it."

The feeling in the pit of his stomach was melting away as he slipped back into his old role. He straightened his back and took note of a change in Kale's body language.

"Let's talk about you then. It's no secret where I've been, so what have you been up to?"

[Kale]

"Did some traveling," Kale said wryly. "Guess that Imperial spook I ripped off must've put my picture out there on the nets... I had to leave town for a while. I've been gettin' by. Doin' a little practicing, too."

He cupped his hand in front of him and looked down at his chest. The Adegan crystal on his necklace slowly rose up through his shirt collar and hovered into the palm of his hand, throwing sparks of light on the cinder block walls.

Kale met Lorca's eyes again, wondering briefly if the Jedi Padawan had an inkling of how he'd been putting his Force abilities into practice.

"I've also been havin' these... these dreams."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Oh?"

That was all he was able to say at first. When he saw that not only had Kale been praciticing the ways of the Force but he had also developed some control over his innate abilities he found it hard to hide his pleasure. He felt himself grinning despite himself.

"Are these dreams recurring?"

[Kale]

Kale stared uncertainly with his mouth open.

"Uh... I don't know, but they're happening over and over," he said. "And they're... they're about my mom."

There was a definite spark of something in his eyes - fear, hope, or both.

"A lot of memories... living in the flat in the Chiba district, goin' to the park... but then there are things I don't remember. Seein' her walk into a huge building in the city, like some kinda temple. Then she's runnin' with a bunch of kids from Stormtroopers and a man dressed in black with a blue light saber. And then she's off on a dead planet somewhere, wearing armor and fightin' someone..."

Kale shook his head. "It's all jumbled together. You know how dreams are. But I don't get it. Half the places I dream about I ain't never seen in my life. But they seem so real."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"First of all, Kale, these dreams may be nothing but dreams."

He glanced across to the boy and thought he saw a hint of disappointment in his face. His mind raced back to his old teachings, and in trying to remember what his old master taught him about dreams and visions, it became apparent to him how relatively brief their time together had been and how many opportunities he'd missed to ask him important questions. He took a deep breath.

"However, those of us who commune with the Force whether knowingly or otherwise can be prone to visions. We can see things that have happened, things that are happening or even things that have not yet happend."

Kale opened his mouth to speak but he quickly added, "How do these dreams make you feel?"

[Kale]

Kale's eyes dropped again - he'd started fiddling with the crystal in his hand.

"I feel what she felt," he said at length. "Fear... anger... love. It's not like I'm just seein' them, like a holo... It's like I'm seein' them through her eyes. Like... like I am her."

He looked up tentatively. "That doesn't mean I'm crazy, does it?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"No," he said immediately.

"Kale, I'm not going to pretend to know all the answers but I know this much: if you want to learn the ways of the Jedi, your mind must be clear and all fears and doubts gone."

He stood, with great reluctance, and all his joints ached. He limped over to the boy and sat next to him.

"It's a shame we don't have a Jedi Dream Interpretation manual handy."

He smiled at Kale, but he was too preoccupied with the crystal in his hands. Another moment of silence passed between them, then he spoke.

"The way I see it, you have two choices: you can push these dreams aside, clear your mind, and focus on the training your mother wished for you to pursue. Or you can go wherever these dreams may lead you. If you can find some resolution in your lost relationship with your mother, then perhaps it may help you become a better Jedi. This I do not know - the choice is yours."

[Kale]

"I don't know..."

He took a deep breath and dropped the Adegan crystal down his shirt again.

"I never found out what happened to my mother. The Imperials came one day and she just disappeared. The flat was trashed, and none of the neighbors could tell me what happened. I waited there as long as I could... thought if she was alive, she'd come back for me. But she never did."

An old landspeeder rumbled down the street outside, filling the windows with garish yellow light until it passed. Kale wiped a grubby hand across his face and looked over at Lorca.

"Lorca, if there's a chance... any chance at all... that my mother is still alive somewhere, and that these dreams can lead me to her... I have to know."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Then that settles it," he said.

"It looks like we have our work cut out for us but frankly, wherever we go from here I'd rather not be empty-stomached and smelling of poodoo."

He folded his arms, and grinned at the boy.

"What's our next port of call, boss?"

[Kale]

Kale blinked. Boss?

"Well... first thing to do is to find you some food," he said. "But you're stayin' here. There are still too many posters out there with your face on them. Just lay low and try not to make too much noise. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It was actually almost an hour and a half before Kale returned, seemingly empty-handed - but he opened his jacket and reached into a hidden pocket cunningly sewn on the inside. Out came a handful of nutrient bars in their wrappers; from a pocket on the other side he pulled a pair of juice pouches.

"People down here will kill for this many calories," he said. "Had to get what I could keep hidden. Don't ask me how I got 'em."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"I cudn' cur liss 'ow you go' 'em," Lorca mumbled happily through a mouthful of nutrient bar, he finished it off with a second bite.

"Krast! I didn't realise how hungry I was..."

He paused to suck ravenously on his juice pouch, he sighed and wiped his lips. His body slumped heavily against the flaking wall. He started unwrapping his second nutrient bar.

"Master Honchu could fillet a six pound fish in under ten seconds," he said, suddenly weary. He stared at the wall opposite and munched the nutrient bar with unceremonious vigor.

"We would sit by lakes on Chandrila and Naboo, eating fried fish and talking about... all kinds of stuff. He could skim a stone from one side of the lake to the other just by thinking about it."

A sudden, resounding belch escaped his lips and he took another bite.

"You ne'er lef' Cor'sant?"

[Kale]

"Careful, it won't do you much good if it all comes back up."

Kale ate his own nutrient bar more reservedly, but he could scarcely fault Lorca. He knew what hunger was. He knew what it was to lick candy wrappers for the sugary residue or eat a discarded apple core because it was the only way you could get enough calories to survive.

"Actually, I did," he said. "Scrounged enough money for a fake ID and hopped on a liner out to the mid rim. I was on Naboo for a little bit, actually. It was so..." He shook his head and shuddered a little. "Green."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

When Kale reprimanded him for eating too fast, Lorca lowered his head and smirked, simultaneously amused and endeared by hearing the boy say something he imagined he'd heard his mother say; he wouldn't bring Kale's maternal side to light even for laughs. Instead he kept his mouth shut and found himself thinking of his own mother. He finished the second nutrient bar.

"Well!" Lorca blurted, suddenly animated by Kale's latest revelation.

"Check out your swanky self!" he said, impressed, smiling at Kale. He swigged his juice.

"Why Naboo?" he asked, and gave Kale another glance. "Obviously not for the tan."

[Kale]

"It was far away," Kale said with a shrug. "I didn't know what was there. Found my way to a place called Theed - they call that a city?"

He took a long swig from his juice pouch. "Ended up moving on to another planet... can't even remember the name now. Cold, dark little place. But that's about when I started having the dreams. I thought I'd try someplace a little closer to home, you know, somewhere more familiar, so I found my way to Corellia. And... well... I kept dreaming about this... this graveyard. Just outside Coronet City. So I went there."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

Lorca sat dumbfounded as Kale divulged details of his myriad excursions - he wanted to check a calendar to determine exactly how much time had passed since they last spoke. He stared at the boy, who spoke of his adventures with a startling nonchalant air. Then he paused.

"And?"

[Kale]

Kale got up and walked across the empty room to the opposite corner. He knelt down and worked his fingers into an almost invisible crack in the baseboard and peeled the synthetic material back to reveal a hollow between the walls - then he reached his arm in up to the shoulder down beneath the floor and drew something out.

"This was buried under a headstone," he said, carefully looking over whatever-it-was. "There was no grave there. Only this."

He turned and brought a narrow rectangular box, apparently of some sort of hard, dark wood, weathered, but durable. It was almost entirely featureless - no visible hinges, latch, or lock, only a seam that indicated the separation between box and lid.

"The catch is on the inside," Kale said. "Far as I know, there's only one way to open it."

He hovered his hand over the top of the box and concentrated. He was rewarded with a minuscule click, and he carefully lifted the box open.

Inside, couched in a velvet recess, was the unmistakable shape of a light saber. It was small, made for delicate hands, only about eight inches in length and tapered toward the pommel, finished in chrome and ebony. But it took an experienced eye only a moment to see that it was incomplete - the control interface was gone, exposing a few disconnected wires and, inside, empty receptacles for a power cell, focusing crystal, and emitter head.

With a great deal of reverence, Kale offered the box into Lorca's hands.

"It's hers," he said. "I know because I saw her with it in my dreams. She left it there. An' I think she wanted me to find it."

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"Well, this is a delicate little thing," he said, weighing the box in his hands.

"A great deal of love has been put into making this weapon, Kale. I trust you will complete it with the same degree of care."

He handed the box back to the boy and slumped back against the wall, his lips stetched into a thin smile.

"Your insight serves you well, Kale. You are destined to become a Jedi and your mother could see that. And now, we have a common goal: we both have lightsabers to complete."

[Kale]

"Complete?"

Kale's eyes bounced back and forth between Lorca and the silvery light saber.

"Is that... is that possible? I mean, I don't know a thing about how they work... I wouldn't know where to get parts, or even what parts I'd need."

He stared at the weapon with mounting wonder. "Do you think it'd still work?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"I don't see why not," he said with a shrug, "It appears to be in excellent condition and is only missing a few key parts."

He drained the dregs from his juice pouch and pocketed the waste. His back arched and his arms stretched, he yawned. Every joint in his body felt stiff and sore.

"My lightsaber was damaged in a confrontation with stormtroopers the night my master died. It was my second weapon and I'd constructed both of them myself. I can teach you how to build your own and, in time, how to use it."

[Kale]

Kale slowly closed the box and clutched it against his chest. His mind seemed to be drifting elsewhere for a moment.

"What do we need to do first?"

[Lorca Dawnstone]

"First, we need to sleep," he said through another thick yawn.

Under the taut weight of a second stretch, he folded over in a heap on the floor, then twisted so that he was lying on his back. His fingers interlaced on his belly and his tired eyes focused on a damp spot on the ceiling.

"And tomorrow, we're going to find a way off this planet."

[Kale]

Kale nodded, and stowed his second nutrient bar back in his jacket. He was still hungry, but he was used to hungry. It kept the mind sharp.

"Okay. We'll move in the morning."

The teen crouched against the wall and slumped down to the floor. For a minute or two, he just watched Lorca and listened to the soft rhythm of his breath.

It had been a long time since he'd trusted anyone enough to throw in his lot with another person. He'd opened up to Lorca back in the hostel because he'd recognized Kale's crystal and had been a friendly face, but that hadn't been much risk. Kale could always disappear into the streets and never see him again. But now Kale had sought him out, rescued him, told him things he'd never dream of telling anyone else.

Was it just because he was a fellow Forcer? No - it was Forcers who betrayed his mother in the first place, back at the Jedi Temple. And friendly faces just as often meant someone wanted something out of you.

There was a reason Kale had decided to go back for him, he realized. It was because Lorca reminded him of someone.

Someone he'd seen in his dreams.

With that unsettling thought, Kale lay down, facing the doorway and clutching the Adegan crystal against his heart, and began to dream again.