Desert Storm (Kal)

[Aida Khan]

The desert world of Smarteel was as harsh and unforgiving as the outlaws who inhabited it. Between the few settled areas lay miles and miles of desert; very little life had succeeded in evolving to meet these conditions and the human immigrants knew better than to try. Furious winds blew across the sands, raising dust clouds that threatened to swallow the few settlements whole. Only the foolish reared their heads when the desert storms roared.

Amidst the swirling clouds of dust, a figure walked, angling into the wind to try and make progress. An old brown cloak was clutched tightly, to prevent it being ripped off by the vicious weather; beneath the cloak, dusty robes could be seen. The person themselves seemed mostly unaffected by the weather, although what they were doing on such a remote world was a mystery. Very few sane people ventured willingly into Wild Space; fewer still chose to land on such a hotbed of crime as this.

The hood was momentarily blown back, revealing a young woman. Her eyes gazed at a point in the distance; she seemed to know where she was going, which was a miracle in itself given the current conditions. The hood was tugged back over the hair that was originally blonde, but quickly covered with a layer of dark sand. The woman's steps were heavy and her body hunched over wearily. She continued on, her feet slowly guiding her towards a nearby settlement; the name was unknown to her but she could sense people, buildings, life. Maybe even a spaceport, if she was lucky, or a way off this planet.

No; no spaceport. She reached out through the Force, stretching her vision to touch every building. There was nothing there to indicate anywhere capable of landing ships, unless they used the desert itself; no storage, no large, covered expanses for passengers - she laughed, the sound snatched by the wind from her lips before it reached her ears. Who would travel to a place like this?

"What a world to end up on," she muttered, sinking to her knees. The wind was growing stronger and she could walk no further until it died down. Digging a small hollow with her hands, the woman tucked herself in and began to calm her body, entering a meditative trance that would sustain her until the storm was over. Her last action, before entering the deep trance, was to cry out through the Force. It wasn't a conscious action; she simply reached out for the one person who had always come for her when she was in trouble.

"Kal."

Aida almost laughed. Kal Strife should have been dead for seven hundred years. She would wait, dig herself out of the sand once the storms subsided, and then...

...then what?

"Kal," she thought again, slipping into the trance and allowing the Force to sustain her. "I'm here."

 

[Kal Strife]

Far across the cold, unfathomable depths of the empyrean, on the world of Hypori, a solitary figure sat on a rooftop. Meditating, his legs folded beneath him and his eyes closed, Kal Strife was oblivious to the wind that whipped at his hair, or the rain that lashed down from the grim, stormy sky. Even the jagged bolts of lightning that tore across the sky like the wrath of some dark God mattered not a whit to him, for he had opened himself fully to the Force, and even in the midst of his meditation his subconscious mind was manipulating the weaves to send the bearing blasts hurtling away from the obsidian hued tower upon which he sat.

Kal.

The word tore through his concentration like a vibrosword through bare flesh, and Kal's eyes snapped open even as a bolt of lightning, released from the bonds of his iron will, vented its fury upon the rooftop. He barely noticed; even as atomised stone and durasteel scattered itself to the winds, he raised his eyes - cold reflections of the storm themselves - to the heavens, searching for answers that couldn't possibly be there.

"No," he whispered, not daring to believe what his mind was trying to tell him, "No, you're dead." Everything he knew was telling him that he couldn't have heard that voice. Aida was dead. Had been for almost seven hundred years, just like everyone else that Kal had held close to himself. But you survived, a treacherous voice in the depths of his heart whispered, Didn't you? The thought drew a grimace from the Corellian - he disliked thinking of those seven hundred years frozen in the alien device - yet he could hardly dispute the words, for the very fact that he was standing there on that rooftop, having that debate with himself, was proof of the veracity of the voice's words.

Kal, I'm here.

This time, the words hadn't the time to fade into memory before Kal was moving, hauling himself to his feet and striding briskly to the hatch leading down into the tower. He didn't pause at the hatch, not even for a moment, but simply stepped into thin air, dropping down to the floor some metres below, only to slow himself with a gentle application of the force as he reached the bottom. A guard, startled by the sudden appearance of the former Imperial, let out an audible curse, and Kal whirled to face him. "Contact the docking bay," he commanded, "Have them ready my ship."

"But, I-"

A brutal application of force, weaves woven together into a crushing pressure that slammed the guard against the wall with bone jarring force, interrupted his protestations. "Ready my ship," Strife snarled, eyes flashing with an anger he rarely allowed the world to view, "Now!" Barely able to breathe, the guard managed to gasp a word of acnowledgement. A moment later, he was slumping down against the wall, struggling vainly to catch him breath whilst the Corellian continued onward.

I'm coming, Aida.

 

[Aida Khan]

His thoughts, carried by the Force across the endless realm of space, penetrated the deep meditation she was in. Aida's breathing was barely noticeable, her pulse slowed to help preserve her body, and then- a skip, a heartbeat, and she knew without a doubt that he was coming. He was alive. How? He had been in Wild Space, disappeared off all radars; she hadn't even been able to feel his presence, and she'd ventured as deep into Wild Space as she had dared before turning back. The only reason she knew he had still been alive before her enforced spell in suspended animation was because she knew she would have felt it had he died.

Aida roused herself from the trance, allowed her body to begin functioning at its usual pace again. Her heartbeat quickened as she thought of it. He was alive, and he was coming. How didn't really matter at this point. There would be time for questions later, when she could ask them in person. For now, she had to keep moving. There may not be a spaceport or a ship for miles around but there was shelter. The storm could be blowing for days; how long would it take him to reach here?

Did he know where here even was? She summoned up her last reserves of strength for the last slog through the storm to the nearby settlement, sending one word out in her thoughts and hopes.

"Smarteel."

He would find her. She would be alive and waiting.

Aida moved slowly, dislodging the sand that was already beginning to pile up around her. Her head and hands came free first, then her arms; feet next, then legs and finally torso. She pulled the cloak around herself as tightly as it would go, senses racing out around her. Nothing but sand for several hours, given how slowly she had to progress in this wind, and then people. No doubt the very worst sort of people; in her experience, they were always the ones waiting in desperate places like this. Aida touched the two hilts at her waist, hidden beneath her cloak, reassured herself they were there.

I have dealt with worse, she thought, gritting her teeth and setting off into the storm. I will face whatever lies ahead. And if the worst came to the worst?

She thought of Kal, and smiled.

 

[Kal Strife]

Smarteel. Kal knew the world, as he knew all of Wildspace, for Wildspace had been his Empire in the dark days of his self imposed exile, and there was not a world there that hadn't been studied by those cold eyes. In a way, Aida's naming of it came as something of a relief, for while the world was a wretched pit it was no worse than Tatooine and there was many a worse place in the frigid depths of the galaxy.

Of course, that didn't slow the Corellian's pace as he hurried through the tower fortress, boots pounding against the unyielding duracrete. How could it, when he knew all too well that the only reason Aida might ever have ventured into the chaos of wildspace was to find him? Her being there was his fault, and any harm that befell her would be his sin. His burden. And already the burden he bore was enough to break a wookiee's back.

No, he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Not to her.

Eventually - after what felt like ten eternities - his path brought Kal into one of the many hanger bays located within the Obsidian Spire. A sleek, gleaming sat within, connected to half a dozen systems and monitored by a pair of men in grubby, oil-stained overalls and a handful of milling droids. "Clear the deck!" Kal called, breaking his stride for not a moment. The men looked like the wanted to argue - or, more accurately, like they had order that meant they should argue - but they held their tongues after a hastily exchanged glance and set about the work of rushing the craft through its final checks.

Paying them not a moment's heed, the Corellian strode up the boarding ramp and moved briskly through the craft's interior, almost throwing himself into the pilot's chair when he finally reached the cockpit. One gloved hand slapped down against an auxilliary panel, release the computer links and mooring cables, whilst the other ran through the familiar dance of preflight, readying the craft to blast into the storm wracked night. Even as he did, the ship's comm crackle with static, and a panicked voice burst through, "Checks aren't ready! We need another five minutes!"

"You haven't got them," Strife answered bluntly, his hands still moving over the controls, "Disconnect now." Lacking time to argue, he wove a weave of compulsion into his words, lacing every syllable with the Force of the living Force. It wouldn't be so effective over the comm, of course, but this was no lord of the Force he was dealing with, so he had to hope it would be sufficient.

Given that his controlboard flickered into readiness a moment later, he had to assume it was.

"Launching," he called into the comm, punching the controls as he did. The freighter lurched, its engines howling as they were pushed to the limits of their ability, then hurtled forward. The hanger walls blurred into a gleam of silver around it, only to be replaced by the gloom of the roiling clouds a moment later as the freighter burst into the night, its nose already turning toward the heavens.

He was finally on his way, and could only hope that he wasn't already too late.

 

[Aida Khan]

The settlement was as crude and basic as Aida had first believed it to be. Scattered, lonely buildings, each tinged with a touch of despair as she reached out to examine them. Most were homes, or what passed for homes on a world as desolate as this; there was the traditional cantina, of course - she'd never found a world without a place to get good and drunk - and one or two others that she couldn't easily identiy. No one was foolish enough to be out in the storm, except for her.

Well, she thought wryly, smiling despite herself, it wasn't exactly through choice. Waking up to find herself on a strange world had been startling enough; discovering that nigh on seven centures had passed since last she had walked the worlds - she had to get out and learn, find out what had been happening. It was just her luck that she'd wound up in the middle of nowhere.

Still, what had she expected? All her friends - or the vast majority of them, it seemed; she still couldn't believe he was alive - had long since parted. Even their imprints in the Force had faded, leaving only her memories behind. Aida's smile grew sad, wistful, as she thought of those she had left behind.

It was not Aida's way to let much get her down. Even the passing of her friends struggled to truly weaken her indomitable spirit. Perhaps it was that she knew they were with the Force, that she knew they were likely to have led fulfilling lives; perhaps she was holding out hope that, like Kal, more had survived the impossible distance. Whatever the reason, she was here for a reason; perhaps the chain of events that had led to her imprisonment had all been contrived to bring her where she would be needed.

"Worry about that later, Aida," she scolded herself. The storm showed no signs of receding and she needed shelter, food, water. The cantina was the best bet but it seemed closed; she could feel no signs of life from within. Most people were settled down to wait out the weather, which was the most sensible idea she'd heard all day. Aida reached out through the Force, sending her senses across the settlement, into every nook and cranny until she spotted an alcove that would offer her some respite from the winds.

"Any port in a storm," she muttered, forging a path through the sand to it. It was shallow and not quite as sheltered as she had hoped, but it was large enough for her to sit on the sand, to wrap her cloak around her and to retreat into her own thoughts. Mostly she avoided thinking of food and water, thinking instead of what she could possibly say to the man who was crossing the galaxy to find her.