Fic: cares we travail to content us (3/6)
Title: cares we travail to content us (3/6)
Author: angelqueen04
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 30,430 (this part 5,648)
Characters/Pairings: Morgana/Arthur, Gwen/Morgause, Merlin, Nimueh, and a host of supporting characters
Warnings: hints of femslash, implications of torture (nothing graphic), eventual character death
Summary: It is a dark time for the galaxy. Emperor Uther has held much of known space in a violent chokehold for over two decades now. He ordered the annihilation of the Jedi Order, and demands that any person exhibiting Jedi abilities be executed for treason. His goddaughter, Princess Morgana of Alderaan, will do anything to see freedom restored to the galaxy, and serves as a spy for the Rebel Alliance. When she is captured by the Emperor’s agents, she is eventually brought into contact with Arthur Pendragon, Captain of the Excalibur. Their meeting alone will bring about changes unforeseen, as there are other, mysterious forces at work, and secrets locked away for years are about to come out. Of course, they’ll have to keep from killing each other as well.
Author's Notes: This story is a fusion of the Merlin and Star Wars universes, with the characters and a few other names/places/things all being fitted into a Star Wars setting. It was initially written for the Morgana/Arthur Big Bang, which, sadly, did not come about due to a myriad of factors. So, I'm posting this for you now. The title comes from Sir Thomas Heneage, in a poem he wrote for Elizabeth I.
Part Two
Morgana wasn’t sure how long she was imprisoned on the Star Destroyer. A day, at the very least, perhaps two. She was left to her own devices in a small cell; Lord Ector did not seem inclined to come and harangue her for her supposed ‘treason’. There were no tiles to count on the ceiling; everything was smooth and shiny. Not a single detail for her to focus on to distract herself from her present circumstances.
Finally, after she was certain she was going to go mad at any minute, her door opened. Three stormtroopers stepped inside. She didn’t bother getting up from where she sat, but just fixed them with a hard, icy stare.
“Come on, Your Highness,” one of them said, motioning to her. “Get up.”
Morgana did not deign to respond.
One of them reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet. Another stepped closer and pulled out magnetic cuffs. He held them out, intending to put them around her wrists, but Morgana seized the opportunity to lash out with her foot, kicking the stormtrooper in the legs. He cried out and stumbled back, but Morgana turned her attention to the trooper who held her arm. She shoved him as hard as she could into the third trooper, sending them careening to the floor.
The doorway was open and she dashed toward it. She had almost reached her target, when something gripped her ankle, which in turn knocked her off her feet. She cried out when her knees slammed into the deck. Morgana tried to scramble forward, to keep going, but the trooper that had gotten a hold of her didn’t seem inclined to let go of her. He had made it to his knees and was quickly gaining a stronger grip on her. “Help me!” he roared at his downed compatriots.
The other two troopers got to their feet and rushed over, grabbing her arms roughly and pulling her back to her feet. Within seconds, Morgana’s hands were restrained by magnetic cuffs.
“That isn’t going to help your case, Your Highness,” one of the troopers said harshly. “You’re just digging yourself a bigger hole.”
Morgana sneered at them, but they paid her little mind and pushed her out of the cell. The three men escorted her across the ship and into one of the smaller hangar bays, where a shuttle waited. They hurried her aboard the shuttle, which promptly took off. She was held in a room behind the cockpit, but Morgana still had a view of where the shuttle was going, and she could only stare in horror.
The colossal monstrosity in front of her was a perverse caricature of a planet - a deep, dead-looking grey. There was a round indentation on its northeastern quadrant as well. Morgana had only gotten a brief look at the plans before giving them over to Gwen, but she had seen enough to recognize what she was looking at.
The Death Star.
Eventually, the shuttle settled into another hangar bay, and Morgana got a quick glimpse of the rows of stormtroopers that were lining up to meet her. She pursed her lips. There would be no opportunity for escape here.
In time, she was escorted through various corridors and rode on an elevator, before she was eventually deposited in yet another cell. Looking around as the door slid shut behind her, Morgana determined that there was only one fundamental difference between this cell and the one she had previously been penned up in - instead of being made of white steel, this one was made of black.
She gritted her teeth in annoyance. If the Imperials were trying to coerce a confession from her by boring her into submission, she was afraid that they might be succeeding.
Morgana, however, was not left to her own devices for long. Not more than an hour after her incarceration, the door slid open again. Morgana stiffened and looked at the doorway. Two Imperial aides, dressed in black uniforms, stepped inside of the cell, followed by Lord Ector, and another man. Gazing at him more closely, Morgana inhaled sharply.
It was Aredian, one of the Grand Moffs and Imperial Governors. He was one of Uther’s most loyal adherents and fervent hunters of any Force sensitive being that happened to cross his path. He was also well known for his ambition and cruelty.
The governor smiled at her in a manner that would be considered pleasant, under any other circumstances. Morgana refused to let the man see her shiver. She had heard more than once that he could supposedly smell fear.
“Ah, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deceptively polite, “it is lovely to see you again. If the state of affairs were different, I would have prepared you more comfortable quarters, but I’m afraid that the current political atmosphere precludes such amenities.”
Morgana raised her chin and responded haughtily, “Governor Aredian, I must express my outrage. My ship has been impounded, my crew imprisoned, and myself restrained without reason!” She glared at him as well as Lord Ector, who remained stoically quiet. “The Emperor will be hearing of this unjust treatment, I assure you.”
Her threat did not appear to cause any anxiety in Aredian. He continued to smile in a way that was rather odd, as though he found her catharsis to be rather amusing. He said, “His Majesty has already been informed of your… illegal dealings, Princess. He was most displeased to hear of it, and has ordered that you be brought to Coruscant to explain yourself to him.”
Morgana did not reply, merely raised an enquiring eyebrow. Aredian did not seem to mind, however, and continued, “However, before we transport you to the capital, he did authorize me to… question you on any Rebel activities that you might be aware of. By any means I deemed fit.”
She narrowed her eyes, refusing to show that she was quaking inwardly. Everyone knew of Aredian’s reputation when it came to interrogations. He was said to be creative, in the mildest of terms. Morgana opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off when the cell door opened again. Instead of another individual appearing in the door, though, the droning sound of a machine filled the room. Within a moment, a menacing, black droid floated into the room. Morgana’s eyes grew huge as she noted the syringe that was held in one of its appendages.
“And now, Your Highness,” Aredian said, his tone still as casual as if he was discussing the weather, “we will discuss the activities of the Rebel scum that you have been associating with. You may even supply us with the location of their base.”
Morgana lashed out again, moving furiously, trying to get away, but it seemed that Aredian and Lord Ector had already been made aware of her previous escape attempt. They both grabbed her and thrust her back down on the bench, holding her in place. One of the aides stepped forward and took the syringe from the droid. He then turned toward her as Aredian pushed up the right sleeve of her gown, exposing the pale skin of her arm.
Once she was injected with whatever serum they had determined to use on her, Morgana went slack, all the fight in her draining away. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything and everyone around her. Within a few minutes, though, she began to feel uncomfortable, a burning sensation in the tips of her fingers that was slowly spreading. She shifted slightly, but still said nothing. Then it started to travel, through her hands, up her arms, and into the rest of her body. White spots began to appear in her eyes, and her throat began to close up. Her breathing became heavy as Morgana tried to compensate for the pain.
It only got worse from there. The pain spread all over her body, until it seemed to become a part of her, as attached as a hand or other limb would be. That wasn’t all of what assaulted Morgana’s senses, however. Even as she succumbed to the agony, she could still make full use of her hearing, and all she heard was questions.
“Where is the Rebel base?”
“Who were your contacts within the Imperial bureaucracy?”
“Who inducted you into the Rebels?”
“How were you informed of the secret plans?”
“How were they transferred to your ship?”
“What coding system do the Rebels use?”
It would be so easy to open her mouth, though whether to scream or to actually answer a question just so the voices would cease their assault on her ears, Morgana didn’t know. She wanted to, she wanted it to stop, but she couldn’t. Even if she couldn’t remember why she couldn’t, she knew that she could not say a word.
The voices continued, despite her determination.
“Speak, Morgana, and this can end…”
“Tell us what we need to know.”
“All sins will be forgiven, my dear…”
Stop it stop it stop it! Morgana wanted to shout it at the top of her lungs. Be quiet!
There was heat, shouts, groans of pain. Then the voices came back.
“How… what just happened?”
“I don’t believe it. There was never any history of it within her bloodline.”
“Aredian, what did she do?”
“She, my lord, is a Force sensitive.”
“What? She is the Emperor’s godchild!”
“Indeed. He will not be pleased with the knowledge that the Force users had infiltrated so close to him.”
“What now?”
“The laws are very clear, my lord. I will follow them.”
They might have kept talking, but Morgana mercifully passed out.
It didn’t take long for Morgause and Nimueh to board up their home. They knew that locking the small building down would only provide a limited amount of protection, be it from the elements or from attacks by Sand People or other indigenous creatures of Tatooine, but they did so anyway. Each of them packed a small bag to take with them while Nimueh directed Gwen to the small cave behind the hovel, where they had concealed a speeder.
“We’ll go to Mos Eisley,” Nimueh stated as the three of them settled into the cramped transport. “The best pilots can usually be found there.”
“Just be careful,” Morgause added, her eyes glinting mischievously as she looked at Gwen. “It can be a little rough.”
Gwen only managed a faint smile before taking a sip of water from a canteen that Nimueh had given to her.
The speeder was fast, despite its lackluster appearance, and thus the trip only took about two hours to make it to the outskirts of Mos Eisley. When they arrived, Nimueh directed Morgause to drive to a seedy area of the city before having her stop outside one of the many cantinas. As the three women climbed out of the speeder, Gwen asked skeptically, “There will be a pilot here to take us to Alderaan?”
Morgause laughed at her and nodded. “Surprisingly, yes. The best pilots usually come to places like this to wind down, and maybe even find an extra client or two.”
Gwen still did not look convinced, but nonetheless followed Morgause and Nimueh inside.
The smell of the cantina as well as the horrible music made Morgause wrinkle her nose faintly, but she didn’t break her stride, though she did glance behind her to make sure that Gwen was sticking close. Her mother had already given her the lecture on ensuring Gwen’s safety.
“She is the only link that the Alliance has to the information on this datapad,” Nimueh maintained gravely as they kept hammering the boards over the windows.
“But it’s all already on the datapad.”
“The information itself is encrypted. Only Princess Morgana’s message was accessible,” the older woman explained. “I will wager that the princess wired the information to her handmaiden; if she dies, then the Alliance will lose whatever is on this datapad. Watch over her, daughter. She is your responsibility now.”
Morgause led Gwen up to a large empty space at the bar, while watching her mother wade into the crowd of pilots, co-pilots, and shipmates out of the corner of her eye. Leaning across the bar, she tugged on the bartender’s thin tunic. “Two tiqias, please,” she ordered.
The bartender, a rotund man with a natural sneer, nodded shortly and turned away, allowing Morgause to turn her attention to Gwen. Much to her surprise, Gwen did not look as uncomfortable with their surroundings as she had expected the handmaiden would be. Morgause idly wondered if she was simply taking it in stride, taking refuge in what was probably extensive situational training, or if Gwen’s princess was in the habit of frequenting establishments such as this.
If the latter was true, Morgause could also wonder at just what her younger sister actually did with her time when she wasn’t working for the Rebellion or playing politics within Uther’s court.
Morgause opened her mouth, intending to start a conversation with Gwen - whether to find out more about Morgana or Gwen herself, she didn’t entirely know - when a new stench assaulted her nose.
“Hey, girls,” a gravelly voice spoke up behind them. “Wha’ya go fer?”
Morgause turned around to find two unkempt, stinking men, both of them eyeing her and Gwen lasciviously. It didn’t take much imagination to comprehend what they were talking about. “We have no rates,” she replied coolly. “We’re not in the trade.”
“Eh, sure ya ar’,” said the second one, grinning at them while nudging his friend with his elbow. “Me ‘n Bosc just got back from a six-month job workin’ fer Jabba. He pays good. How much ya want?”
“Still, not interested.” Morgause decisively turned her back on them. There was a growl behind her. She could feel the shift in the air, started to whirl back, her hand going to the lightsaber -
“Remove your hand, sir.” Gwen’s voice was as cold as a Hothan winter, and everything nearby seemed to freeze. Even Morgause stopped what she was doing and turned.
The man who had a hand on Gwen’s arm leered at her. “Like it rough, do ya honey? That can be ‘ranged if -”
In a blink of an eye, Gwen’s fist impacted with the man’s nose. The shattering of bone was loud in Morgause’s ears, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as Gwen kicked the howling man away from her and then turned on his companion. Within seconds, both men were on the ground, moaning and cursing incoherently. The cantina had gone silent.
Morgause looked around at everyone who was staring in their direction. She offered them a cold smile, saying, “No means no.” She then bared her teeth threateningly. Everyone promptly looked away and the music started to play again. Morgause then turned to Gwen, who had slipped back into her spot at the bar. She grinned at her. “You’re more resourceful than I thought, milady,” she said teasingly.
Gwen just raised her eyebrow at her as she knocked back the last of her drink, but Morgause could feel the amusement radiating off of her.
It was around that moment that Nimueh appeared again, her deep blue eyes shining with amusement. “I see I should have reminded you two to keep a low profile,” she said, lightly scolding. She then nodded toward the dark-haired young man standing behind her. “Mister Emrys here is first mate on a ship that might meet our needs.”
Arthur sat in the back of the cantina, careful to keep his back to the wall and a clear view of the room. Ever since Jabba’s little visit to the docking bay, both he and Merlin had had the feeling that they were being watched. Arthur didn’t doubt that Jabba wanted him and Merlin - or more precisely, the Excalibur since it was one of the fastest ships on the Outer Rim - so it would make sense that Jabba would have his hired guns keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t bolt.
Which was exactly what he and Merlin planned to do, once they found a job that would pay enough for them to set up shop in a different port, on a different planet that wasn’t all but owned by the Hutts. They’d had enough of Tatooine to last them a lifetime.
He was nursing his second drink of the evening, intending to make it his last. Glancing about the room, he sought Merlin. His first mate had a tendency to mill about the room, chattering away at the other pilots who frequented the cantina. Merlin was a talker, so it came naturally to him, far more so than it did Arthur. Merlin’s ability to talk and get others to was useful, much more so than he had ever imagined it could be when they’d been children. Back then, his incessant talking usually earned him a few threats from the other boys to get him to shut up.
After a few moments, Arthur spotted Merlin coming toward him, his eyes holding a distinctly smug look. Then he glanced at the people following him. Three women, all wearing hooded cloaks. Arthur recognized two of them as the ones Jozzy and Bosc had accosted and received a beat down for doing so. It had been funny to watch, but he also knew to be wary. The last thing he needed was for Merlin to bring him a pack of strays to take in. The last time he’d done that, they had ended up taking Freya and her pets to Dantooine. Merlin had been particularly useless on that trip, spending most of his time swooning over the pretty girl.
Merlin took his seat on Arthur’s right, leaving the last two seats at the table open for the approaching women. Merlin leaned close and murmured, “They want to go to Alderaan.”
Arthur nodded slightly and watched the women come near. The oldest of the three took one of the chairs, her startling blue eyes fixed on him. The last seat was taken by the dark-skinned young woman, after the third gestured for her to sit. The third woman assumed a protective stance, acting almost like a bodyguard toward the other two. Arthur glanced around warily, wondering if these prospective clients might be targets for someone. He had no desire to get caught in a firefight or something similar.
“Arthur Pendragon,” he introduced himself. “Captain of the Excalibur. Merlin says you want passage to Alderaan?”
“Indeed,” the oldest woman said, sounding faintly amused, though for what reason Arthur couldn’t imagine. “Provided the ship is fast. We are in something of a hurry.”
“Fast?” Arthur repeated. He chuckled. “Oh, my ship is plenty fast, lady. She’d beat out just about any other ship on this planet.” Jabba’s intense interest was proof enough of that. “What’s your cargo?”
“Just the three of us,” the young woman sitting next to the older one murmured. Her accent was distinctly different from her companions, Arthur noted, coming from a world closer to the Core.
“And as few questions as possible,” the third woman added, her tone cold as she crossed her arms in front of her. Arthur glanced at her and saw another set of blue eyes, as well as wisps of dirty blonde hair.
“Problems?” he asked simply, his mind running over various possibilities, such as Hutt trouble.
“The Imperials are a nuisance we’d rather avoid,” the older woman stated.
Arthur stared at her. “I see,” he said slowly. “It’s doable, I suppose, but it will figure in to the price. Ten thousand total, and all in advance.” Arthur didn’t blink when Merlin shifted ever so slightly beside him, a sign of his displeasure. He rolled his eyes inwardly. For all that he was decent at managing their funds to make them last as long as possible, Merlin was impossible when it came to haggling. Besides, ten thousand would be just enough to cover their start-up on another world, away from Jabba’s sphere of influence.
The blonde woman’s expression shifted into one of indignation. “That’s outrageous -” she started furiously.
“Morgause,” the older woman cut her off, raising her hand to silence her. She - Morgause - did go quiet, though she still appeared to be livid. After a moment, the older woman replied, “We have three thousand to pay now, and you’ll have the rest, when we reach Alderaan.”
It was a reasonable deal, one he usually went for with most of their clients. Merlin fairly radiated approval of it. After a moment, Arthur shrugged. “Fine, we can leave as soon as you’re ready. Docking Bay Ninety-Four.”
“We should be ready to go in two hours,” she informed him.
Arthur nodded, but his attention had been caught by movement over by the bar. Two stormtroopers stood there, talking with the bartender. He was pointing in their direction. “Looks like Jozzy and Bosc went off and complained about being beaten up by a girl,” he commented. “There’s a door in the back for you to go out, since you’re eager to avoid Imperials.”
They nodded and slowly stood up, moving in the direction he indicated. The stormtroopers approached the table, but when they saw that the women were gone, they continued on their way. Once they were alone, Arthur turned to Merlin. “It appears our luck has finally changed, Merlin. Let’s go, before Jabba hears about it.”
Merlin didn’t argue.
“Take the speeder to one of the local dealers,” Nimueh ordered Morgause as they stepped out of the cantina and into the harsh sunlight. “Aim for fifteen-hundred, don’t go lower than a thousand.” She mentally tallied up what funds she had available. If they were fortunate, they’d have enough to cover the initial costs, and then Glynis and Gorlois could cover the rest for them.
Morgause nodded and hurried off, tugging on the hood of her cloak. Gwen looked ready to follow her, but Nimueh touched her arm briefly. “She’ll do better alone,” she said quietly.
Gwen nodded, and stayed put.
They found a shadowed area to wait for Morgause, and neither of them spoke. Nimueh’s thoughts raced over the recent events. It was obviously the work of the Force, their meeting the Captain and First Mate of the Excalibur. Uther’s son and Gaius’ nephew were grown and making their way in the galaxy, far from the village she had left them in, one an infant and the other still unborn.
It is time. If Gwen’s appearance in her and Morgause’s lives, bearing the message from Morgana, hadn’t been hint enough, then meeting Ygraine’s son again surely was.
“We’re being watched,” Gwen said quietly from beside her, cutting into Nimueh’s thoughts.
Nimueh didn’t move, didn’t look around for who might be observing them. “Can you tell how many?” she asked just as softly.
“Two, at least. Maybe more.”
She nodded just a little. “We’ll wait until Morgause returns, and then work on it. Keep an eye out.”
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. Morgause arrived back, twelve hundred credits in a pouch clutched in her hand. She smirked. “Gody’s was very happy to have the speeder. Apparently there’s a market for custom vehicles.”
Nimueh took the pouch and quickly explained the situation they were in. They would have to take a roundabout route to the docking bay, which would take longer, but it would help them to better spot out their observers and subsequently lose them.
It was halfway through their walk that they spotted their tails. Nimueh recognized them, as did Morgause and Gwen, as the two idiots who had confronted them in the cantina. Irritated, Nimueh led the girls around a corner and waited. Within seconds, the two men rounded the same corner, their hands on their blasters, but were quickly shoved against the wall by both Nimueh and Morgause. Gwen stood behind them, her arms crossed in front of her.
“You fools,” Nimueh hissed into their ears. “You dare spy on and stalk us?” She dropped her voice, using tones that she had used on prisoners back during the war. It never failed back then to scare the hell out of them, so she imagined it might be useful now.
A few further whispered threats from both her and Morgause, as well as frigid smiles from Gwen, were enough to send the two idiots scrambling away from them. Satisfied, Nimueh hurried the rest of the way to the docking bay. Merlin met them at the door, waving when he spotted them. “Come on in,” he said cheerfully, leading them inside.
The Excalibur didn’t exactly look impressive or different from any other ship. It was obviously well-maintained, as evidenced by the fact that Arthur was in the midst of working with an open panel. Morgause, however, was less than impressed. “Are you sure this thing will get off the ground?” she asked.
Arthur slammed the panel shut and glared at her. “The Excalibur hasn’t failed yet. She won’t disappoint now.” He waved his hand toward the ramp, indicating for them to go ahead and enter the ship. Morgause and Gwen did so, but Nimueh stopped close to him and handed him two pouches. “The three thousand,” she explained, “as agreed.”
The young man peered down at them briefly, and then nodded. She continued toward the ramp. Merlin and Arthur moved to follow, but all three froze when a voice from behind shouted, “Hey, Pendragon! Jabba said you ain’t leavin’!”
The ensuing chaos happened quickly. Arthur shoved Nimueh toward the ramp while at the same time pulling his blaster and opening fire on the group of five surly-looking men that had invaded the docking bay. Merlin also pulled his blaster as well and fired a few shots, but even as Nimueh rushed aboard, she could feel the boy using the Force, pushing various tools and cargo containers at the men.
The boy was making use of his abilities, it seemed.
She didn’t have time to think on it after that, as both Merlin and Arthur hurried into the ship and into the cockpit. Nimueh quickly strapped herself in with the girls, both of whom were demanding to know what was going on. Seconds later, the Excalibur flew out of Mos Eisley.
Morgana didn’t know how long she was unconscious. She had been left alone, save for the single meal that had been thrust into the room, but she wouldn’t complain about it. Her body still ached from Aredian’s interrogation session, and her head throbbed painfully. The only thing that seemed to help at all was to sitting quietly and keeping her eyes closed against the harsh light.
That ended when the door flew open, and Lord Ector entered along with two troopers. “Come, Morgana,” Ector said simply, his expression a mask.
She stared hard at him, but it was half-hearted at best. Standing, she allowed them to cuff her, this time without incident, and they led her away from her cell. They moved further and further into the cellblock, stopping only when they came to a lift. They rode the lift for several minutes, before it opened up to a long corridor. The two troopers nudged her down it, Ector walking along just behind them. Morgana tried to take in as much of their surroundings as she could, learning the layout in the hope it would be useful if she attempted an escape at a later time.
Eventually, they stepped into a large, cavernous room full of computer stations and personnel. The bridge, Morgana supposed. She didn’t have long to inspect it, however, when Aredian appeared in front of her. She stiffened, but said nothing.
“Ah, Princess,” he said, his voice sounding as pleasant as ever. As if he had not just recently maltreated and tortured her. “How nice of you to join us, and just in time for a family reunion.”
Morgana narrowed her eyes, but still did not reply.
The large screen on one of the walls flared to life before anyone else said anything, and Morgana’s eyes were immediately drawn to it.
“Mother? Father?” The words slipped past her lips.
“Indeed,” Aredian cut in before they could respond. “We have traveled to your homeworld, Your Highness. Given your adamant reluctance to tell us anything of your friends in the Rebel Alliance… and your own unusual abilities, I thought that perhaps you needed a bit more persuasion.”
Morgana stared daggers at him. “What are you talking about?”
Aredian waved his hand toward the screen, where her parents were still visible. “Give me the location of the Rebels’ base as well as the plans your cohorts stole, or I will use this station’s weapons to wipe out Alderaan.”
The entire bridge went silent, aside from the beeping of consoles.
“How dare you!” Gorlois growled from the screen. “The Emperor will never stand for this -”
“His Majesty will not lift a finger to intervene, Your Highness,” Aredian cut him off shortly. “Your planet has been a nest of traitors for nearly two decades. Now we have proof that your own daughter is a Rebel agent, and that you two have been harboring a Force sensitive, even allowing her to be named the Emperor’s goddaughter.” His smile was cruel. “He will wash his hands of you.”
Morgana froze. “What?” she blurted. She didn’t say anything else, but she saw the blood drain from her parents’ faces.
“Oh yes, Princess,” the Grand Moff said, almost gleefully, “you are a Force sensitive. I suspect it was that ability that allowed you to resist me so well during your questioning. Of course, such abilities instantly brand you as a traitor and therefore subject you to execution under the Emperor’s laws.” He paused, shrugged, and then continued. “But that is neither here nor there at the moment. Your choice, Your Highness. Give me the Rebel base and their plans, and I may just spare Alderaan.”
Morgana’s breath caught in her throat, horror-stricken. He wouldn’t… Only, she knew he would. Aredian was the most ruthless of all of Uther’s lieutenants. Those who had died at his hand or at his orders had long since reached uncountable numbers. He would not turn a hair at destroying an entire planet just to get what he wanted, or even just to prove a point to her.
“Morgana, listen to me,” Glynis spoke from the screen. Morgana stared at her, silently pleading for the monarch to give her an order, to tell her what to do. “Alderaan does not bow to the wishes of terrorists, my darling. That has always been our people’s policy.”
Just like that; Morgana had her instructions. Taking a deep breath, she turned her eyes on Aredian. “Go to hell.” She did her best not to shake.
Aredian’s smug smile faded from his lips, and his expression became truculent. “You first, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. He turned toward his technicians. “Charge the main gun. Fire when ready.”
The technicians didn’t pause at the order, did not give any hint of remorse as they performed their tasks - all of which were leading up to destroying her home planet, to ending billions of lives.
Morgana panicked. “They’re on Dantooine!” she cried. “The Alliance is on Dantooine!”
It was then that the technicians did hesitate, looking toward Aredian. Perhaps, she thought frantically, they did feel something, perhaps they hoped that their commander would call them off.
“Ah, you’ve come to your senses at last,” Aredian said, sounding pleased. “Thank you very much for the information. You see, Lord Ector… I told you that she would prove reasonable, given the right encouragement.” He looked to his subordinates. “Continue with the operation.”
“No!” Morgana lunged, her hands stretched out for Aredian’s throat. She had to stop them, had to make them stop. She didn’t care if her hands were still in the magnetic cuffs, didn’t care if this might get her killed. Her parents, her people -
A pitiless hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back and away from Aredian. She glanced back at the one who had grabbed her - Ector. “My lord, stop him -”
It was too late. The station shuddered, the lights flickered briefly. The screen that held her parents’ faces went black, and then showed nothing but snow. The signal was gone.
Alderaan was gone. Morgana knew it was true. She could feel her stomach heaving though she had no contents to empty onto the deck.
“And you dare call yourselves human,” she breathed.
“… have risen by eight percent,” Gaius was telling the Emperor in a meeting with his advisors. “The larger numbers of herbs will allow for larger numbers of medicinal products as well…” The old man trailed off, his eyes growing distant.
From his seat at the head of the table, Uther straightened. “Gaius? Is something the matter?”
Gaius did not respond. His eyes grew huge and his body seized up. He inhaled once, a great heaving gasp, and then collapsed, sliding out of his chair to the floor. Everyone else in the room leapt to their feet, even the Emperor, who rushed to the side of his advisor and friend.
On the Excalibur, only a few hours away from their destination, the crew and passengers had gathered in the main hold of the ship for something to eat. Arthur and Merlin didn’t keep any kind of fancy fare onboard, but the food they did keep was filling and tasted palatable enough.
Just as they were finishing the meal and gathering up the plates to take into the small kitchenette, however, Nimueh, Morgause, and Merlin stopped dead. The latter started shaking violently.
“Merlin?” Arthur spoke up, his eyes on the other young man. “What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer. Before Arthur could repeat himself, all three of their bodies jerked violently, and then collapsed on the deck.
Part Four
Author: angelqueen04
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 30,430 (this part 5,648)
Characters/Pairings: Morgana/Arthur, Gwen/Morgause, Merlin, Nimueh, and a host of supporting characters
Warnings: hints of femslash, implications of torture (nothing graphic), eventual character death
Summary: It is a dark time for the galaxy. Emperor Uther has held much of known space in a violent chokehold for over two decades now. He ordered the annihilation of the Jedi Order, and demands that any person exhibiting Jedi abilities be executed for treason. His goddaughter, Princess Morgana of Alderaan, will do anything to see freedom restored to the galaxy, and serves as a spy for the Rebel Alliance. When she is captured by the Emperor’s agents, she is eventually brought into contact with Arthur Pendragon, Captain of the Excalibur. Their meeting alone will bring about changes unforeseen, as there are other, mysterious forces at work, and secrets locked away for years are about to come out. Of course, they’ll have to keep from killing each other as well.
Author's Notes: This story is a fusion of the Merlin and Star Wars universes, with the characters and a few other names/places/things all being fitted into a Star Wars setting. It was initially written for the Morgana/Arthur Big Bang, which, sadly, did not come about due to a myriad of factors. So, I'm posting this for you now. The title comes from Sir Thomas Heneage, in a poem he wrote for Elizabeth I.
Part Two
Morgana wasn’t sure how long she was imprisoned on the Star Destroyer. A day, at the very least, perhaps two. She was left to her own devices in a small cell; Lord Ector did not seem inclined to come and harangue her for her supposed ‘treason’. There were no tiles to count on the ceiling; everything was smooth and shiny. Not a single detail for her to focus on to distract herself from her present circumstances.
Finally, after she was certain she was going to go mad at any minute, her door opened. Three stormtroopers stepped inside. She didn’t bother getting up from where she sat, but just fixed them with a hard, icy stare.
“Come on, Your Highness,” one of them said, motioning to her. “Get up.”
Morgana did not deign to respond.
One of them reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet. Another stepped closer and pulled out magnetic cuffs. He held them out, intending to put them around her wrists, but Morgana seized the opportunity to lash out with her foot, kicking the stormtrooper in the legs. He cried out and stumbled back, but Morgana turned her attention to the trooper who held her arm. She shoved him as hard as she could into the third trooper, sending them careening to the floor.
The doorway was open and she dashed toward it. She had almost reached her target, when something gripped her ankle, which in turn knocked her off her feet. She cried out when her knees slammed into the deck. Morgana tried to scramble forward, to keep going, but the trooper that had gotten a hold of her didn’t seem inclined to let go of her. He had made it to his knees and was quickly gaining a stronger grip on her. “Help me!” he roared at his downed compatriots.
The other two troopers got to their feet and rushed over, grabbing her arms roughly and pulling her back to her feet. Within seconds, Morgana’s hands were restrained by magnetic cuffs.
“That isn’t going to help your case, Your Highness,” one of the troopers said harshly. “You’re just digging yourself a bigger hole.”
Morgana sneered at them, but they paid her little mind and pushed her out of the cell. The three men escorted her across the ship and into one of the smaller hangar bays, where a shuttle waited. They hurried her aboard the shuttle, which promptly took off. She was held in a room behind the cockpit, but Morgana still had a view of where the shuttle was going, and she could only stare in horror.
The colossal monstrosity in front of her was a perverse caricature of a planet - a deep, dead-looking grey. There was a round indentation on its northeastern quadrant as well. Morgana had only gotten a brief look at the plans before giving them over to Gwen, but she had seen enough to recognize what she was looking at.
The Death Star.
Eventually, the shuttle settled into another hangar bay, and Morgana got a quick glimpse of the rows of stormtroopers that were lining up to meet her. She pursed her lips. There would be no opportunity for escape here.
In time, she was escorted through various corridors and rode on an elevator, before she was eventually deposited in yet another cell. Looking around as the door slid shut behind her, Morgana determined that there was only one fundamental difference between this cell and the one she had previously been penned up in - instead of being made of white steel, this one was made of black.
She gritted her teeth in annoyance. If the Imperials were trying to coerce a confession from her by boring her into submission, she was afraid that they might be succeeding.
Morgana, however, was not left to her own devices for long. Not more than an hour after her incarceration, the door slid open again. Morgana stiffened and looked at the doorway. Two Imperial aides, dressed in black uniforms, stepped inside of the cell, followed by Lord Ector, and another man. Gazing at him more closely, Morgana inhaled sharply.
It was Aredian, one of the Grand Moffs and Imperial Governors. He was one of Uther’s most loyal adherents and fervent hunters of any Force sensitive being that happened to cross his path. He was also well known for his ambition and cruelty.
The governor smiled at her in a manner that would be considered pleasant, under any other circumstances. Morgana refused to let the man see her shiver. She had heard more than once that he could supposedly smell fear.
“Ah, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deceptively polite, “it is lovely to see you again. If the state of affairs were different, I would have prepared you more comfortable quarters, but I’m afraid that the current political atmosphere precludes such amenities.”
Morgana raised her chin and responded haughtily, “Governor Aredian, I must express my outrage. My ship has been impounded, my crew imprisoned, and myself restrained without reason!” She glared at him as well as Lord Ector, who remained stoically quiet. “The Emperor will be hearing of this unjust treatment, I assure you.”
Her threat did not appear to cause any anxiety in Aredian. He continued to smile in a way that was rather odd, as though he found her catharsis to be rather amusing. He said, “His Majesty has already been informed of your… illegal dealings, Princess. He was most displeased to hear of it, and has ordered that you be brought to Coruscant to explain yourself to him.”
Morgana did not reply, merely raised an enquiring eyebrow. Aredian did not seem to mind, however, and continued, “However, before we transport you to the capital, he did authorize me to… question you on any Rebel activities that you might be aware of. By any means I deemed fit.”
She narrowed her eyes, refusing to show that she was quaking inwardly. Everyone knew of Aredian’s reputation when it came to interrogations. He was said to be creative, in the mildest of terms. Morgana opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off when the cell door opened again. Instead of another individual appearing in the door, though, the droning sound of a machine filled the room. Within a moment, a menacing, black droid floated into the room. Morgana’s eyes grew huge as she noted the syringe that was held in one of its appendages.
“And now, Your Highness,” Aredian said, his tone still as casual as if he was discussing the weather, “we will discuss the activities of the Rebel scum that you have been associating with. You may even supply us with the location of their base.”
Morgana lashed out again, moving furiously, trying to get away, but it seemed that Aredian and Lord Ector had already been made aware of her previous escape attempt. They both grabbed her and thrust her back down on the bench, holding her in place. One of the aides stepped forward and took the syringe from the droid. He then turned toward her as Aredian pushed up the right sleeve of her gown, exposing the pale skin of her arm.
Once she was injected with whatever serum they had determined to use on her, Morgana went slack, all the fight in her draining away. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything and everyone around her. Within a few minutes, though, she began to feel uncomfortable, a burning sensation in the tips of her fingers that was slowly spreading. She shifted slightly, but still said nothing. Then it started to travel, through her hands, up her arms, and into the rest of her body. White spots began to appear in her eyes, and her throat began to close up. Her breathing became heavy as Morgana tried to compensate for the pain.
It only got worse from there. The pain spread all over her body, until it seemed to become a part of her, as attached as a hand or other limb would be. That wasn’t all of what assaulted Morgana’s senses, however. Even as she succumbed to the agony, she could still make full use of her hearing, and all she heard was questions.
“Where is the Rebel base?”
“Who were your contacts within the Imperial bureaucracy?”
“Who inducted you into the Rebels?”
“How were you informed of the secret plans?”
“How were they transferred to your ship?”
“What coding system do the Rebels use?”
It would be so easy to open her mouth, though whether to scream or to actually answer a question just so the voices would cease their assault on her ears, Morgana didn’t know. She wanted to, she wanted it to stop, but she couldn’t. Even if she couldn’t remember why she couldn’t, she knew that she could not say a word.
The voices continued, despite her determination.
“Speak, Morgana, and this can end…”
“Tell us what we need to know.”
“All sins will be forgiven, my dear…”
Stop it stop it stop it! Morgana wanted to shout it at the top of her lungs. Be quiet!
There was heat, shouts, groans of pain. Then the voices came back.
“How… what just happened?”
“I don’t believe it. There was never any history of it within her bloodline.”
“Aredian, what did she do?”
“She, my lord, is a Force sensitive.”
“What? She is the Emperor’s godchild!”
“Indeed. He will not be pleased with the knowledge that the Force users had infiltrated so close to him.”
“What now?”
“The laws are very clear, my lord. I will follow them.”
They might have kept talking, but Morgana mercifully passed out.
It didn’t take long for Morgause and Nimueh to board up their home. They knew that locking the small building down would only provide a limited amount of protection, be it from the elements or from attacks by Sand People or other indigenous creatures of Tatooine, but they did so anyway. Each of them packed a small bag to take with them while Nimueh directed Gwen to the small cave behind the hovel, where they had concealed a speeder.
“We’ll go to Mos Eisley,” Nimueh stated as the three of them settled into the cramped transport. “The best pilots can usually be found there.”
“Just be careful,” Morgause added, her eyes glinting mischievously as she looked at Gwen. “It can be a little rough.”
Gwen only managed a faint smile before taking a sip of water from a canteen that Nimueh had given to her.
The speeder was fast, despite its lackluster appearance, and thus the trip only took about two hours to make it to the outskirts of Mos Eisley. When they arrived, Nimueh directed Morgause to drive to a seedy area of the city before having her stop outside one of the many cantinas. As the three women climbed out of the speeder, Gwen asked skeptically, “There will be a pilot here to take us to Alderaan?”
Morgause laughed at her and nodded. “Surprisingly, yes. The best pilots usually come to places like this to wind down, and maybe even find an extra client or two.”
Gwen still did not look convinced, but nonetheless followed Morgause and Nimueh inside.
The smell of the cantina as well as the horrible music made Morgause wrinkle her nose faintly, but she didn’t break her stride, though she did glance behind her to make sure that Gwen was sticking close. Her mother had already given her the lecture on ensuring Gwen’s safety.
“She is the only link that the Alliance has to the information on this datapad,” Nimueh maintained gravely as they kept hammering the boards over the windows.
“But it’s all already on the datapad.”
“The information itself is encrypted. Only Princess Morgana’s message was accessible,” the older woman explained. “I will wager that the princess wired the information to her handmaiden; if she dies, then the Alliance will lose whatever is on this datapad. Watch over her, daughter. She is your responsibility now.”
Morgause led Gwen up to a large empty space at the bar, while watching her mother wade into the crowd of pilots, co-pilots, and shipmates out of the corner of her eye. Leaning across the bar, she tugged on the bartender’s thin tunic. “Two tiqias, please,” she ordered.
The bartender, a rotund man with a natural sneer, nodded shortly and turned away, allowing Morgause to turn her attention to Gwen. Much to her surprise, Gwen did not look as uncomfortable with their surroundings as she had expected the handmaiden would be. Morgause idly wondered if she was simply taking it in stride, taking refuge in what was probably extensive situational training, or if Gwen’s princess was in the habit of frequenting establishments such as this.
If the latter was true, Morgause could also wonder at just what her younger sister actually did with her time when she wasn’t working for the Rebellion or playing politics within Uther’s court.
Morgause opened her mouth, intending to start a conversation with Gwen - whether to find out more about Morgana or Gwen herself, she didn’t entirely know - when a new stench assaulted her nose.
“Hey, girls,” a gravelly voice spoke up behind them. “Wha’ya go fer?”
Morgause turned around to find two unkempt, stinking men, both of them eyeing her and Gwen lasciviously. It didn’t take much imagination to comprehend what they were talking about. “We have no rates,” she replied coolly. “We’re not in the trade.”
“Eh, sure ya ar’,” said the second one, grinning at them while nudging his friend with his elbow. “Me ‘n Bosc just got back from a six-month job workin’ fer Jabba. He pays good. How much ya want?”
“Still, not interested.” Morgause decisively turned her back on them. There was a growl behind her. She could feel the shift in the air, started to whirl back, her hand going to the lightsaber -
“Remove your hand, sir.” Gwen’s voice was as cold as a Hothan winter, and everything nearby seemed to freeze. Even Morgause stopped what she was doing and turned.
The man who had a hand on Gwen’s arm leered at her. “Like it rough, do ya honey? That can be ‘ranged if -”
In a blink of an eye, Gwen’s fist impacted with the man’s nose. The shattering of bone was loud in Morgause’s ears, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as Gwen kicked the howling man away from her and then turned on his companion. Within seconds, both men were on the ground, moaning and cursing incoherently. The cantina had gone silent.
Morgause looked around at everyone who was staring in their direction. She offered them a cold smile, saying, “No means no.” She then bared her teeth threateningly. Everyone promptly looked away and the music started to play again. Morgause then turned to Gwen, who had slipped back into her spot at the bar. She grinned at her. “You’re more resourceful than I thought, milady,” she said teasingly.
Gwen just raised her eyebrow at her as she knocked back the last of her drink, but Morgause could feel the amusement radiating off of her.
It was around that moment that Nimueh appeared again, her deep blue eyes shining with amusement. “I see I should have reminded you two to keep a low profile,” she said, lightly scolding. She then nodded toward the dark-haired young man standing behind her. “Mister Emrys here is first mate on a ship that might meet our needs.”
Arthur sat in the back of the cantina, careful to keep his back to the wall and a clear view of the room. Ever since Jabba’s little visit to the docking bay, both he and Merlin had had the feeling that they were being watched. Arthur didn’t doubt that Jabba wanted him and Merlin - or more precisely, the Excalibur since it was one of the fastest ships on the Outer Rim - so it would make sense that Jabba would have his hired guns keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t bolt.
Which was exactly what he and Merlin planned to do, once they found a job that would pay enough for them to set up shop in a different port, on a different planet that wasn’t all but owned by the Hutts. They’d had enough of Tatooine to last them a lifetime.
He was nursing his second drink of the evening, intending to make it his last. Glancing about the room, he sought Merlin. His first mate had a tendency to mill about the room, chattering away at the other pilots who frequented the cantina. Merlin was a talker, so it came naturally to him, far more so than it did Arthur. Merlin’s ability to talk and get others to was useful, much more so than he had ever imagined it could be when they’d been children. Back then, his incessant talking usually earned him a few threats from the other boys to get him to shut up.
After a few moments, Arthur spotted Merlin coming toward him, his eyes holding a distinctly smug look. Then he glanced at the people following him. Three women, all wearing hooded cloaks. Arthur recognized two of them as the ones Jozzy and Bosc had accosted and received a beat down for doing so. It had been funny to watch, but he also knew to be wary. The last thing he needed was for Merlin to bring him a pack of strays to take in. The last time he’d done that, they had ended up taking Freya and her pets to Dantooine. Merlin had been particularly useless on that trip, spending most of his time swooning over the pretty girl.
Merlin took his seat on Arthur’s right, leaving the last two seats at the table open for the approaching women. Merlin leaned close and murmured, “They want to go to Alderaan.”
Arthur nodded slightly and watched the women come near. The oldest of the three took one of the chairs, her startling blue eyes fixed on him. The last seat was taken by the dark-skinned young woman, after the third gestured for her to sit. The third woman assumed a protective stance, acting almost like a bodyguard toward the other two. Arthur glanced around warily, wondering if these prospective clients might be targets for someone. He had no desire to get caught in a firefight or something similar.
“Arthur Pendragon,” he introduced himself. “Captain of the Excalibur. Merlin says you want passage to Alderaan?”
“Indeed,” the oldest woman said, sounding faintly amused, though for what reason Arthur couldn’t imagine. “Provided the ship is fast. We are in something of a hurry.”
“Fast?” Arthur repeated. He chuckled. “Oh, my ship is plenty fast, lady. She’d beat out just about any other ship on this planet.” Jabba’s intense interest was proof enough of that. “What’s your cargo?”
“Just the three of us,” the young woman sitting next to the older one murmured. Her accent was distinctly different from her companions, Arthur noted, coming from a world closer to the Core.
“And as few questions as possible,” the third woman added, her tone cold as she crossed her arms in front of her. Arthur glanced at her and saw another set of blue eyes, as well as wisps of dirty blonde hair.
“Problems?” he asked simply, his mind running over various possibilities, such as Hutt trouble.
“The Imperials are a nuisance we’d rather avoid,” the older woman stated.
Arthur stared at her. “I see,” he said slowly. “It’s doable, I suppose, but it will figure in to the price. Ten thousand total, and all in advance.” Arthur didn’t blink when Merlin shifted ever so slightly beside him, a sign of his displeasure. He rolled his eyes inwardly. For all that he was decent at managing their funds to make them last as long as possible, Merlin was impossible when it came to haggling. Besides, ten thousand would be just enough to cover their start-up on another world, away from Jabba’s sphere of influence.
The blonde woman’s expression shifted into one of indignation. “That’s outrageous -” she started furiously.
“Morgause,” the older woman cut her off, raising her hand to silence her. She - Morgause - did go quiet, though she still appeared to be livid. After a moment, the older woman replied, “We have three thousand to pay now, and you’ll have the rest, when we reach Alderaan.”
It was a reasonable deal, one he usually went for with most of their clients. Merlin fairly radiated approval of it. After a moment, Arthur shrugged. “Fine, we can leave as soon as you’re ready. Docking Bay Ninety-Four.”
“We should be ready to go in two hours,” she informed him.
Arthur nodded, but his attention had been caught by movement over by the bar. Two stormtroopers stood there, talking with the bartender. He was pointing in their direction. “Looks like Jozzy and Bosc went off and complained about being beaten up by a girl,” he commented. “There’s a door in the back for you to go out, since you’re eager to avoid Imperials.”
They nodded and slowly stood up, moving in the direction he indicated. The stormtroopers approached the table, but when they saw that the women were gone, they continued on their way. Once they were alone, Arthur turned to Merlin. “It appears our luck has finally changed, Merlin. Let’s go, before Jabba hears about it.”
Merlin didn’t argue.
“Take the speeder to one of the local dealers,” Nimueh ordered Morgause as they stepped out of the cantina and into the harsh sunlight. “Aim for fifteen-hundred, don’t go lower than a thousand.” She mentally tallied up what funds she had available. If they were fortunate, they’d have enough to cover the initial costs, and then Glynis and Gorlois could cover the rest for them.
Morgause nodded and hurried off, tugging on the hood of her cloak. Gwen looked ready to follow her, but Nimueh touched her arm briefly. “She’ll do better alone,” she said quietly.
Gwen nodded, and stayed put.
They found a shadowed area to wait for Morgause, and neither of them spoke. Nimueh’s thoughts raced over the recent events. It was obviously the work of the Force, their meeting the Captain and First Mate of the Excalibur. Uther’s son and Gaius’ nephew were grown and making their way in the galaxy, far from the village she had left them in, one an infant and the other still unborn.
It is time. If Gwen’s appearance in her and Morgause’s lives, bearing the message from Morgana, hadn’t been hint enough, then meeting Ygraine’s son again surely was.
“We’re being watched,” Gwen said quietly from beside her, cutting into Nimueh’s thoughts.
Nimueh didn’t move, didn’t look around for who might be observing them. “Can you tell how many?” she asked just as softly.
“Two, at least. Maybe more.”
She nodded just a little. “We’ll wait until Morgause returns, and then work on it. Keep an eye out.”
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. Morgause arrived back, twelve hundred credits in a pouch clutched in her hand. She smirked. “Gody’s was very happy to have the speeder. Apparently there’s a market for custom vehicles.”
Nimueh took the pouch and quickly explained the situation they were in. They would have to take a roundabout route to the docking bay, which would take longer, but it would help them to better spot out their observers and subsequently lose them.
It was halfway through their walk that they spotted their tails. Nimueh recognized them, as did Morgause and Gwen, as the two idiots who had confronted them in the cantina. Irritated, Nimueh led the girls around a corner and waited. Within seconds, the two men rounded the same corner, their hands on their blasters, but were quickly shoved against the wall by both Nimueh and Morgause. Gwen stood behind them, her arms crossed in front of her.
“You fools,” Nimueh hissed into their ears. “You dare spy on and stalk us?” She dropped her voice, using tones that she had used on prisoners back during the war. It never failed back then to scare the hell out of them, so she imagined it might be useful now.
A few further whispered threats from both her and Morgause, as well as frigid smiles from Gwen, were enough to send the two idiots scrambling away from them. Satisfied, Nimueh hurried the rest of the way to the docking bay. Merlin met them at the door, waving when he spotted them. “Come on in,” he said cheerfully, leading them inside.
The Excalibur didn’t exactly look impressive or different from any other ship. It was obviously well-maintained, as evidenced by the fact that Arthur was in the midst of working with an open panel. Morgause, however, was less than impressed. “Are you sure this thing will get off the ground?” she asked.
Arthur slammed the panel shut and glared at her. “The Excalibur hasn’t failed yet. She won’t disappoint now.” He waved his hand toward the ramp, indicating for them to go ahead and enter the ship. Morgause and Gwen did so, but Nimueh stopped close to him and handed him two pouches. “The three thousand,” she explained, “as agreed.”
The young man peered down at them briefly, and then nodded. She continued toward the ramp. Merlin and Arthur moved to follow, but all three froze when a voice from behind shouted, “Hey, Pendragon! Jabba said you ain’t leavin’!”
The ensuing chaos happened quickly. Arthur shoved Nimueh toward the ramp while at the same time pulling his blaster and opening fire on the group of five surly-looking men that had invaded the docking bay. Merlin also pulled his blaster as well and fired a few shots, but even as Nimueh rushed aboard, she could feel the boy using the Force, pushing various tools and cargo containers at the men.
The boy was making use of his abilities, it seemed.
She didn’t have time to think on it after that, as both Merlin and Arthur hurried into the ship and into the cockpit. Nimueh quickly strapped herself in with the girls, both of whom were demanding to know what was going on. Seconds later, the Excalibur flew out of Mos Eisley.
Morgana didn’t know how long she was unconscious. She had been left alone, save for the single meal that had been thrust into the room, but she wouldn’t complain about it. Her body still ached from Aredian’s interrogation session, and her head throbbed painfully. The only thing that seemed to help at all was to sitting quietly and keeping her eyes closed against the harsh light.
That ended when the door flew open, and Lord Ector entered along with two troopers. “Come, Morgana,” Ector said simply, his expression a mask.
She stared hard at him, but it was half-hearted at best. Standing, she allowed them to cuff her, this time without incident, and they led her away from her cell. They moved further and further into the cellblock, stopping only when they came to a lift. They rode the lift for several minutes, before it opened up to a long corridor. The two troopers nudged her down it, Ector walking along just behind them. Morgana tried to take in as much of their surroundings as she could, learning the layout in the hope it would be useful if she attempted an escape at a later time.
Eventually, they stepped into a large, cavernous room full of computer stations and personnel. The bridge, Morgana supposed. She didn’t have long to inspect it, however, when Aredian appeared in front of her. She stiffened, but said nothing.
“Ah, Princess,” he said, his voice sounding as pleasant as ever. As if he had not just recently maltreated and tortured her. “How nice of you to join us, and just in time for a family reunion.”
Morgana narrowed her eyes, but still did not reply.
The large screen on one of the walls flared to life before anyone else said anything, and Morgana’s eyes were immediately drawn to it.
“Mother? Father?” The words slipped past her lips.
“Indeed,” Aredian cut in before they could respond. “We have traveled to your homeworld, Your Highness. Given your adamant reluctance to tell us anything of your friends in the Rebel Alliance… and your own unusual abilities, I thought that perhaps you needed a bit more persuasion.”
Morgana stared daggers at him. “What are you talking about?”
Aredian waved his hand toward the screen, where her parents were still visible. “Give me the location of the Rebels’ base as well as the plans your cohorts stole, or I will use this station’s weapons to wipe out Alderaan.”
The entire bridge went silent, aside from the beeping of consoles.
“How dare you!” Gorlois growled from the screen. “The Emperor will never stand for this -”
“His Majesty will not lift a finger to intervene, Your Highness,” Aredian cut him off shortly. “Your planet has been a nest of traitors for nearly two decades. Now we have proof that your own daughter is a Rebel agent, and that you two have been harboring a Force sensitive, even allowing her to be named the Emperor’s goddaughter.” His smile was cruel. “He will wash his hands of you.”
Morgana froze. “What?” she blurted. She didn’t say anything else, but she saw the blood drain from her parents’ faces.
“Oh yes, Princess,” the Grand Moff said, almost gleefully, “you are a Force sensitive. I suspect it was that ability that allowed you to resist me so well during your questioning. Of course, such abilities instantly brand you as a traitor and therefore subject you to execution under the Emperor’s laws.” He paused, shrugged, and then continued. “But that is neither here nor there at the moment. Your choice, Your Highness. Give me the Rebel base and their plans, and I may just spare Alderaan.”
Morgana’s breath caught in her throat, horror-stricken. He wouldn’t… Only, she knew he would. Aredian was the most ruthless of all of Uther’s lieutenants. Those who had died at his hand or at his orders had long since reached uncountable numbers. He would not turn a hair at destroying an entire planet just to get what he wanted, or even just to prove a point to her.
“Morgana, listen to me,” Glynis spoke from the screen. Morgana stared at her, silently pleading for the monarch to give her an order, to tell her what to do. “Alderaan does not bow to the wishes of terrorists, my darling. That has always been our people’s policy.”
Just like that; Morgana had her instructions. Taking a deep breath, she turned her eyes on Aredian. “Go to hell.” She did her best not to shake.
Aredian’s smug smile faded from his lips, and his expression became truculent. “You first, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. He turned toward his technicians. “Charge the main gun. Fire when ready.”
The technicians didn’t pause at the order, did not give any hint of remorse as they performed their tasks - all of which were leading up to destroying her home planet, to ending billions of lives.
Morgana panicked. “They’re on Dantooine!” she cried. “The Alliance is on Dantooine!”
It was then that the technicians did hesitate, looking toward Aredian. Perhaps, she thought frantically, they did feel something, perhaps they hoped that their commander would call them off.
“Ah, you’ve come to your senses at last,” Aredian said, sounding pleased. “Thank you very much for the information. You see, Lord Ector… I told you that she would prove reasonable, given the right encouragement.” He looked to his subordinates. “Continue with the operation.”
“No!” Morgana lunged, her hands stretched out for Aredian’s throat. She had to stop them, had to make them stop. She didn’t care if her hands were still in the magnetic cuffs, didn’t care if this might get her killed. Her parents, her people -
A pitiless hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back and away from Aredian. She glanced back at the one who had grabbed her - Ector. “My lord, stop him -”
It was too late. The station shuddered, the lights flickered briefly. The screen that held her parents’ faces went black, and then showed nothing but snow. The signal was gone.
Alderaan was gone. Morgana knew it was true. She could feel her stomach heaving though she had no contents to empty onto the deck.
“And you dare call yourselves human,” she breathed.
“… have risen by eight percent,” Gaius was telling the Emperor in a meeting with his advisors. “The larger numbers of herbs will allow for larger numbers of medicinal products as well…” The old man trailed off, his eyes growing distant.
From his seat at the head of the table, Uther straightened. “Gaius? Is something the matter?”
Gaius did not respond. His eyes grew huge and his body seized up. He inhaled once, a great heaving gasp, and then collapsed, sliding out of his chair to the floor. Everyone else in the room leapt to their feet, even the Emperor, who rushed to the side of his advisor and friend.
On the Excalibur, only a few hours away from their destination, the crew and passengers had gathered in the main hold of the ship for something to eat. Arthur and Merlin didn’t keep any kind of fancy fare onboard, but the food they did keep was filling and tasted palatable enough.
Just as they were finishing the meal and gathering up the plates to take into the small kitchenette, however, Nimueh, Morgause, and Merlin stopped dead. The latter started shaking violently.
“Merlin?” Arthur spoke up, his eyes on the other young man. “What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer. Before Arthur could repeat himself, all three of their bodies jerked violently, and then collapsed on the deck.
Part Four