Harry Potter and the Dark Lord of the Sith

Chapter 34.

Ron saw four other men step out of the crowd with raised blasters. Two stormtroopers entered the bar from the back door. In the window, Ron saw more standing outside.

A thousand thoughts raced through Ron's mind as he was marched out of the bar at blasterpoint, but none were encouraging. He was led down the walkway, past the bar, toward a group of speeders. In the largest, stormtroopers were already sitting, aiming their weapons at him. He was obviously going to be put in the third row, with at least six stormtroopers needing only to pull the triggers to kill him.

An idea flashed to him. He didn't think about what he was doing--if he had, he would probably balk. As he walked up to the speeder, he took his last step just a bit faster then the others, and then, quickly, broke into a run, jumped over the stormtrooper sitting ahead of him, and plunged into the chasm below.

As he was falling, he drew the wand, and then noticed that the stormtrooper he jumped over had grabbed onto his leg and fell out with him.

"Stupefy!" he shouted, kicking the unconscious Imperial away. The white form remained nearby. That felt weird. Well, what did you expect, Weasley? That he'd fall down?

"Accio Firebolt!" he cried. He hid the broom in a niche right outside the bar, just in case quick escape became necessary. Well, it has... he thought grimly, and then caught the approaching Firebolt.

He stabilized himself and hovered for a few moments, pondering what he'd just done. His first thought that the fact that he even got the idea, much less acted on it, proved him crazy. But now that the danger passed, the full extend of it hit him. Now, he understood Han Solo when the smuggler flew into an asteroid field, attacked a Star Destroyer in the Falcon, and went out into the Hoth night after Luke. You're only crazy if you die. If you live, you're just good.

Nevertheless, he realized he wasn't in the best possible situation. The Imperials were likely looking for him, and the best thing would be to get off this planet as quickly as possible. He failed in his mission, but trying to do anything about that now would be pointless. He turned and headed further down.

When he got to his destination, he had another unpleasant surprise waiting for him.

XXX

Ron blinked, but there was no doubt about what he saw. The ship he had flow in--a modified Z-95 Headhunter--was gone without a trace.

Damn. In the end, it made no difference whether it had been stolen by petty thieves or impounded by the Empire--except that in the latter case, he would be arrested immediately upon showing up at that platform looking for it. He lowered his binoculars.

I have to get off this planet, he thought again. Public spaceports were out--his picture was undoubtedly recorded, and he wouldn't even make it through the lobby. There were ways around it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to make Polyjuice Potion here. He took the only option available. Getting back on his broomstick, he descended downward, into the lower levels of Coruscant.

After landing, he didn't exactly know where he was going, but despite his frequently making fun of Harry about going by pure feeling against all reason, he quite often followed his instincts as well. As soon as he thought that, he shook his head in frustration. Harry... He didn't think Harry was dead, but that didn't help him cope with it. Ever since Harry was torn from them, he and Hermione hadn't spoken to each other. Ron couldn't tell whether it was an accident--the opportunities to meet weren't ample, as the Alliance kept them both very busy--or whether they were instinctively avoiding each other. He hated himself for lashing out at Hermione after Bespin. I must apologize, he thought. And to apologize, I have to make it out of here alive.

His thoughts were interrupted by blaster fire. Instinct took over. He squashed himself against the nearest building and drew his wand. Getting the broomstick out, he got on it and took off, circling his way around the building. Then he kicked off, flying up as fast as possible...

As soon as he cleared the roof, he saw a short young woman running from Imperial stormtroopers. She was sporadically firing her blaster, and even taking down some enemies, but the odds weren't good.

Ron dropped in front of her. "Protego! Stupefy!" he shouted, confusing the Imperials for a moment. "Are you all right?" He turned to the woman, and with a surprise, recognized her. "Jan?"

"Ron Weasley?" Jan Ors coughed.

"Hop on," he said, pointing to his broomstick.

"Is it safe?"

"Safer than getting shot at. Impedimenta! Hurry!"

Jan got behind him. "Hold on tight," Ron told her, and she grabbed on to him.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, producing a silver-white lion that rushed the Imperial soldiers.

The stormtroopers tried to shoot them down as they took off, but the Patronus, while it couldn't harm them, was a very good distraction. Ron dodged the few blasts that came close and dropped further down into the lower city. "Where to?" he asked.

"The old industrial district," Jan replied. "And thanks. This makes us even."

Ron smiled. "Keeping score, eh? Well, we're not out of this yet."

XXX

They entered an abandoned building through a broken window. "Lumos," Ron muttered, raising his wand and helping Jan off the Firebolt. "You've been here before?"

"Yeah. Through that door." She pointed to the left end of the corridor.

The door had a lock on it, but it was an ordinary mechanical one. "Alohomora!" Ron said, opening the way.

They stepped into a small room, with a few crates and a pile of blankets in a corner. Jan lay down there.

"You sure you're okay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I just need to rest. I haven't had sleep in--" Jan fell quiet.

"Sleep well, Jan," Ron whispered and got up. He knew Jan was tired even without her telling so, and for now, their getting out safely was up to him. He placed several warding spells on the room and left to explore--or wander to give himself something to do, depending on the results he would achieve.

XXXXXXXX

Harry awoke in a tall, nearly circular room, with a grated metal floor. Above him were several windows covered by transparisteel, and Harry noticed, the characteristic shimmering shields.

He didn't see anyone in the windows, and almost got ready to jump using the Force to get a better look, when the Emperor's voice boomed from somewhere.

"Save your strength, young Potter," the Emperor said. "You will need it to pass the test."

"Test?" Harry inadvertently asked.

"You will learn to use your anger, and your hatred. The Jedi lied to you. Anger is a weapon. A very useful weapon."

"No," Harry said. "You're wrong."

A mocking laugh was the reply. "Think, Potter. Which one of us has more to teach the other?"

"I will not be your apprentice."

"You will fulfill your destiny." Then four doors retracted and droids unlike any Harry had ever seen stepped out.

The droids were walking like humans. They had thin limbs, narrow bodies, and elongated heads. Their hands, however, held fingers like humans', and held blaster rifles.

"Shoot him!" the lead droid with gold pads painted on his shoulders said.

"Roger, roger," the other droids replied in unison and raised their blasters.

Harry leaped out of the way of blaster bolts. He landed and used the Force to push through the formation. He then summoned two blaster rifles and aimed them.

Pain stung as a bolt impacted his leg. He cursed himself for allowing this distraction and leaped away. He more felt than saw that he'd land in the way of blaster fire, and so hurled two droids into the wall. They smashed, and pieces flew apart. Harry landed, and opened fire with both of his blasters, before rolling away from more blaster bolts. He ran in zigzags to the other side of the room, shot the lone droid that was there and turned around to blast the rest.

As he fired his blasters, he tried to count the droids. Something didn't feel right... there were more droids in the room than he originally saw march out. They must have gotten reinforcements. Enraged, he rushed the droids, firing blasters, tossing them aside with the Force, and using the Force to snap their necks as if they were living creatures. Within seconds, all there was in the room was a panting Harry Potter, bleeding out of his leg, and four piles of battle droids stacked to block entrances to the room. Harry held blasters, ready to shoot should anyone try to come through any of these doors.

Harry tried to do some sort of healing on his leg wound, but the strength wouldn't come. Then he heard the Emperor.

"See what how powerful a weapon anger could be. No one else would teach you that. No one else would give you the tools to destroy your enemy."

"I got wounded," Harry tried to argue.

"You got both wounds before you released yourself." Harry, shocked, realized the Emperor was right. That hurt more than either physical wound.

The Emperor must have felt it. "You know," he said.

"That still doesn't make me your apprentice."

"Oh, but you are one, young Potter. Soon, you will call me Master." Another door opened, and the emperor himself entered the room.

"Never!" Harry cried out, spun and opened fire.

The reply was lightning, which knocked both guns out his hands. Harry's attempt at blocking it was no more successful than last time, and now, the Emperor seemed to concentrate directly on his wounds. Harry screamed in pain before passing out again.