♔ The Call of Korriban ♔ [PART ONE]
Title: The Call of Korriban
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: Baekchen, side!Chansoo, Xiuhun if you squint.
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Romance, Star Wars!AU
Summary The Sith homeworld is no place for a Jedi, but Baekhyun has run out of options.
A/N: Written for xiuflakes at daelightsaving Tao and Yixing are the droids 3380 and 2AAY, respectively. Luhan is a Twi'lek.
Baekhyun watches as the sand swallows his footprints; winds on a desolate planet shifting the grains and covering his tracks. Korriban doesn’t want him to leave her surface, she wants him to join the tombs that line the Valley of the Dark Lords.
The Force, ever present, slides over his skin in a caress. He feels repulsed at the touch, for this place is strong with the Dark Side, and there is no comforting wave of tranquility from its embrace.
Estranged as he may be from the New Jedi Order, the Force still remains strong with him; it guides him through the desolated ruins.
Jedi do not belong here. The wind seems to whisper, hundreds of voices muttering and groaning. They protest his presence, awakened by the need to taint.
“I am no Jedi.” Baekhyun replies defiantly, but the gale which blows sand and dust and the remnants of old bones show that the spirits of the Sith do not believe him.
He has such potential. A voice rasps against his ear, the immense power of the Dark Side washing over him. Baekhyun can’t breathe. So much hate, so much anger.
“I need a crystal,” He replies, choking. Baekhyun feels as if his mouth is filled with sand, his body unmoving as the Sith Lords saturate his senses with the Dark Side. “I can’t get one from Kardril, or from Ageda. This is my last resort.”
You will die by the heat of the furnace. Baekhyun sees it; the moment where the temperature boils his blood beneath his skin, hair melting as he perishes in indescribable agony.
“I can do it, I have to do it.”
And the planet is still. Baekhyun searches his surroundings, trying to find a familiar landmark. His footsteps have appeared in the sand; they hold a crystalline shine-- his presence forever immortalized on the planet’s surface.
------
The furnaces of Korriban are as awful as Baekhyun had imagined. He’s unsure if the dark pink tint to his hands and arms are from the scorching heat, or the subtle glow of the flames as they lick at already blackened stone.
He should feel a sense of pride, for he is the first human to forge a Lightsaber crystal in these flames, and the first since the Clone Wars to stoke the fire.
But pride is a path to the Dark Side, and Baekhyun shudders as he thinks of the Sith he has faced; warped, twisted souls encased in a mortal body which reflects the corruption within. Even a human will come to decay under the power of the Dark Side--- old footage of Emperor Palpatine flashing to the forefront of his mind.
Yet here he stands, the flesh of his forearms beginning to bubble and blister as he carefully forms the faceted crystal within the embers.
Synthetic Crystals are an invention of the Sith; an unnatural abomination that defies the teachings of the Jedi, dark and powerful objects poisoned by the Dark Side.
Baekhyun is tainting his pure hands with filth, but he sees no other option.
------
Baekhyun blocks the voices from his head as he meditates. It’s unwise, infusing his newly forged crystal in a place where the Dark Side is so prevalent, but it’s safe. He sits in the ruins of one of the old Sith temples, disassembled parts of a new Lightsaber in front of him and Synthetic Crystal in his hand.
It has been so long since he has done this; meditated over the fresh core of a Lightsaber, conducted the Force through his body and into its center. Cracking an eye open, he looks at the crystal with disdain-- it glints innocently in the light of the flickering fire, casting multicoloured beams of light onto the floor and the fabric of Baekhyun’s pants. It seems so beautiful, pure, but the knowledge of whence it came makes Baekhyun shiver in unbridled disgust.
Reaching out into the ethos, he cradles his new crystal with care, synthetic or not, it was crafted by the hands of a Jedi; it will not become a weapon of suffering and death, Baekhyun is sure.
A glint of yellow light, the familiar touch of Jongdae’s hands on his own; his love feels his presence within the Force, reaching out to Baekhyun across the light years between them.
Pain, so much pain; Jongdae is suffering and Baekhyun feels it. His bones ache as Jongdae’s do, and he knows the strength of their bond will have the skin of Jongdae’s arms burning and peeling with the phantom touch of the furnace’s flames.
Laughter echoes, the voices of the dead. Baekhyun feels their rage, their hatred; it flows through him as the sand filters through the forgotten emptiness of their tombs.
Jongdae is gone, his presence replaced by taunting whispers and promises of strength.
Baekhyun is weak, so weak. For years he has searched, hanging on to slivers of hope, Jongdae’s sporadic appearance in the Force as he scours endlessly, traversing galaxies on a quest to him.
His mind brings memories, unbidden, unearthed within the recesses of his consciousness. Jongdae’s cries, the sounds of battle. The unholy noise as Baekhyun’s Lightsaber shatters in his hands, the grief as his soul crumbles--- Jongdae disappears into the darkness, dragged away by men with claws of pure light.
In his memories, Baekhyun retrieves Jongdae’s fallen Lightsaber, cradling the weapon to his chest. It's the only part of Jongdae that remains, an extension of his body, the golden blade a reflection of his way with the Force.
In the present, Baekhyun’s eyes snap open. The crystal between his palms emits a glow, but he dares not look, too afraid of what he could find.
With touch alone, he slides the core into the abandoned husk of Jongdae’s former weapon, pressing the switch and filling the room with a subtle glow as the Lightsaber flickers to life.
The blade shines with a magenta so dark it seems almost red.
Voices of one thousand Sith Lords rejoice.
------
The tavern falls into silence, boisterous chatter and upbeat music coming to a halt as two looming figures walk through the door.
“What a reception,” Jongin mutters, “It’s like they’ve never seen humans before.”
“I don’t think it’s the human part they’re unused to.” Sehun replies, gesturing to the numerous human patrons of the establishment. They stare and whisper behind shaking hands, the word Jedi echoing throughout the room.
“It’s rare to see Jedi in these parts.” The bartender says cheerfully, a male Twi’lek with skin the colour of burnt orange. He pours the two strangers a drink as they seat themselves at the bar.
“That’s not what we’ve heard,” Jongin says, sipping at his drink carefully. The entire bar remains silent, patrons leaning forward on their stools in an attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation.
The barkeep spits out a flurry of words in Twi’leki, the two Lekku attached the back of his head flailing wildly in emphasis. Conversation begins to buzz back to life, the musicians in the corner resuming their cheerful tune.
“Sorry about that.” The Twi’lek says. “You never know who could be listening in a place like this.”
“Much appreciated.” Sehun nods, eyeing a small Lurmen as he reaches out to touch his Lightsaber. It’s odd, seeing one of these creatures so far from home, and so interested in weapons of war. Swatting the curious hand away, he regards the Twi’lek thoughtfully. “Are you Xiumin?”
“Xiumin?” The Twi’lek laughs, Lekku twitching with mirth behind him, “No, I’m Luhan.”
“I’ve never heard of a Luhan,” Jongin says, finishing his drink with a sigh. It’s sweet, slightly tangy, nothing like anything he’s ever had before. “Which means you’re not important. Where is Xiumin.”
“Look, Jedi,” Luhan spits, sending a glare in Jongin’s direction. “If you wanna find Xiumin, you gotta go through me.”
“If that’s what it takes.” Sehun places his hand on his Lightsaber, ready to fight. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jongin doing the same.
“I’m no good to you dead, kid.” Luhan says, shifting his robe slightly to display his own Lightsaber; crudely made, but none the less recognisable as a weapon of the Jedi.
“How did you get that?” Sehun hisses, “That’s not something you should have.”
“Xiumin has connections,” Luhan says smugly, stroking the holster almost fondly.
“Baekhyun.” Jongin breathes, he can sense it now, the familiar presence radiating from the Lightsaber’s core.
“So that’s why you’re here.” The Twi’lek hums. “Come. He’s expecting you.”
“Xiumin knew we were coming?” Jongin asks, scrambling behind Luhan as he takes them through a curtained doorway, leading out to a hidden hallway behind the bar. “He must be strong with the Force.”
“Xiumin can’t sense the Force for shit.” Luhan explains, guiding them through winding corridors. It’s dark, almost impossible to see, impossible to escape. Impossible to navigate, unless one already knows the way. The Jedi are trapped. “But when you’re friends with someone like Baekhyun, you kinda learn to expect trouble.”
The trio arrives at an unmarked door, apprehension thick and heavy within the air.
Finally after years of searching, they’re finally closing in on the trail of Byun Baekhyun.
------
A fist comes flying at Baekhyun’s face as he enters the ship, fast and powerful, he barely manages to dodge it in time.
“You asshole.” Do Kyungsoo; thief, smuggler, and otherwise villain for hire, packs a mighty punch. The bounty on his head is worth more than the economy of most planets, so he's had and won, his fair share of fist fights. Baekhyun’s been on the receiving end of one of the tiny humanoid’s punches on more than one occasion, and he's quietly relieved to have dodged the blow-- quite literally--- this time. The shattered cheekbone Baekhyun received upon their first meeting still hasn't quite healed. “Do you know how long we've been waiting for you?”
“Two weeks, three days, seven hours and forty-five minutes.” Pipes a voice from the cockpit. Ironically, Kyungsoo’s right-hand man, gunner, and unofficial punching bag is none other than Park Chanyeol, the most feared bounty hunter in the outer rim territories.
“I've lost so many jobs waiting for you to finish your little pilgrimage.” Kyungsoo moans, slumping against one of the many control panels adorning the ship.
“We wouldn't have been able to do those jobs anyway.” Baekhyun points out thoughtfully, righting the switches skewed during Kyungsoo's tantrum. “I'm useless without a Lightsaber.”
“Is this new one shatterproof? Or is visiting this nasty ass planet going to be a regular thing?” Chanyeol asks, pressing buttons on the main control panel, stirring the engine to life.
“No. This one's not going to break.” Baekhyun says, eyeing the weapon his hand. He can feel the power coursing from the new core, flashes of red light dancing behind his as he blinks.
“How does someone break a Lightsaber, anyway?” Kyungsoo mutters, taking a seat next to chanyeol and keying in the coordinates. Ryloth is a fair distance away, but he'll manage the run in only a few parsecs. The EXODUS isn't known as the fastest ship in the galaxy for nothing.
“I don't know,” Baekhyun says. “But it won't happen again.”
“Think fast!” Chanyeol yells, throwing a lump of scrap metal in the Jedi’s direction. On pure instinct alone, Baekhyun activates the blade, slicing through the projectile before it can make contact with his nose.
“Huh,” Chanyeol says, squinting at Baekhyun carefully, “How are people going to call you Golden Blade, now? Your ‘saber is red.”
“Gone Dark Side, have you, Jedi?” Kyungsoo snickers in mirth. He’s been laughing about Baekhyun’s reputation for years; the golden colour of his former weapon indicates that he's a scholar, not a warrior-- pure of heart and mind. Yet here he is, the second most wanted being in the territory, a fearsome warrior who can strike fear into the hearts of armies with just the activation of his Lightsaber.
Baekhyun, too, holds mirth towards his reputation. He is no scholar, the Lightsaber which brought him his name was originally Jongdae’s-- lost in the commotion as he was dragged from his room in the dead of night.
The Lightsaber he wields is an abomination, Baekhyun dares not call it his own, the shell of the hilt belongs to Jongdae, the core an invention of the Sith. His original weapon shone the most beautiful shade of green, the colour of a warrior, a Jedi Knight of unparalleled skill.
“Synth Crystals are always red.” Baekhyun says, lying to his friends, lying to himself. The crystal he forged in the furnaces of Korriban had been clear, Baekhyun’s fear and rage tainting it with red hues.
Golden Blade Baekhyun-- to the Order, he is a traitor. To the outer rim, an enraged scholar. To the Sith of Korriban, still calling out even as the EXODUS lifts from the surface and into the sky, he is one of them.
But to himself, Baekhyun is a failure.
------
“So, Xiumin, if that is your real name,” Jongin begins, seemingly uncaring that they haven’t even caught glimpse of the mysterious informant’s face, “Word has it you know where Baekhyun is.”
“You don’t interrogate people like that, Jongin, oh my God.” Sehun resists the urge to bury his face within his palms. Newly accredited as he may be, he’s still a Jedi Knight. There are ways in which one must act under a title such as his, and it appears as if his friend has forgotten them completely in his excitement.
“Correct.” Xiumin doesn’t bother turning around to face them, form swathed in shadow. His voice is surprisingly high pitched, and the rather normal sized arm chair hides his form completely. Sehun and Jongin, with wild imaginations, had assumed the fearsome figure known only as Xiumin to have a figure representing his power within the territory.
“What, exactly is correct?” Jongin asks, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“You’re both correct.” Xiumin says, mirth evident in his voice. “That is definitely not how you should interrogate someone, and it’s not my real name.”
“Right, uh--” Jongin fumbles. Sehun suspects he should take over the interrogation aspect, but he’s rather amused by his partner’s failure.
“You’re here about Baekhyun, I assume?” He asks, finally rising from his chair and advancing on the duo. He’s small, head barely reaching Sehun’s shoulder, but he’s the most intimidating person the young Jedi has ever laid eyes on, and he’s angered Master Junmyeon more times than he can count.
“Tell me what he’s doing.” Sehun says, waving his palm in a circular motion, willing the Force to coax the truth from Xiumin’s lips.
“Jedi tricks don't work on me, kid.” Xiumin says with a laugh. “Baek’s been tryin’ for years.”
“So you do know him.” Sehun says in surprise. Every lead they've followed thus far has been a bust; the only information they have unearthed about their missing friend is that he fights with what is presumably Jongdae’s missing Lightsaber and that he might be found somewhere within the Outer Rim. Finally, their search has brought them not only to his trail but to a place he evidently frequents.
“Yep.” Xiumin drawls, “But I don’t know you. Tell me the right names, and I’ll tell you the right information.”
“And if we don’t give the right names?” Jongin enquires cautiously.
“Then I send you to the wrong side of the galaxy.” Xiumin deadpans. “Do you know how many people come through my door in search of him? I’m not going to sell him out to just anyone, you know.”
“I’m assuming we have to pay for this information.” Sehun says, picking up on keywords in the informant's phrasing.
“I have my price, but we’ll discuss it later.” He says with a flippant wave of his hand. “Names, if you so please.”
“I’m Jongin, and this is Sehun.” The young Jedi says, holding his breath in anticipation. The three of them had been close once before. They trained and fought and studied the ways of the Force together. Hopefully, their former bond is enough to loosen the lips of the mysterious informant.
“The brats!” Xiumin cries in glee, “He talks about you all the time.”
Sehun stills in shock. The old nickname brings a wave of nostalgia; days spent within the Temple, causing trouble. Baekhyun is off causing another kind of trouble, but it’s nice to see that some things never change.
“Sit down, make yourselves at home.” Xiumin gestures at the piles of cushions strewn along the wooden floorboards.
“So,” Sehun begins, lowering himself to the floor, “It’s been three years, what has he been doing?”
“General villainy for hire, mostly.” He replies, demeanour suddenly much softer, “Coups, robbery, smuggling. He found himself a place on the EXODUS, if that’s a name that rings a bell.”
“Yeah.” Sehun and Jongin cast each other knowing looks, the EXODUS is a feared name within the galaxy, the ship's black Hull almost invisible in the darkness of space, with a crew so frightful no soul dares to speak of their encounters.
“There’s three of ‘em on that ship: Kyungsoo, the brains. Chanyeol, the brawn, and Baekhyun, the negotiator.” Minseok counts on slender fingertips.Tales from the few survivors shed light on Baekhyun's position within the crew; no one weak enough to fall against them in battle would have the mental capacity to resist Baekhyun’s way with the Force.
“Your little Jedi pal blocks their memories with his magic hand.” Xiumin supplies, grinning almost proudly.
“But if he does that, then why does he have a reputation? Why do any of them, for that matter?” Jongin mutters, utterly perplexed.
“Because Kyungsoo gets off on the fear of his victims.” Xiumin says with a shrug. “Plus, it's easy to rob a ship with that kind of reputation, but it's not so easy to stay hidden. Allowing people to fear them without quite knowing why, well, that's very handy for business, don’t you think?”
Sehun and Jongin sit in shocked silence, unable to believe what their friend had become; Baekhyun's actions were in complete discord with the teachings of the Order, the council of Jedi Masters who had nurtured and refined the very powers he is now abusing. The Baekhyun they once knew died as he denounced the Order.
“There’s another reason,” Xiumin says quietly as if concerned that their conversation may be overheard, “They're looking for Jongdae.”
“Why would a smuggler and a bounty hunter team up with a Jedi to find another Jedi?” Jongin ponders aloud.
“There's a way of life out here,” Xiumin says, eyes hard, “And the people who took your little friend are trying to compromise that.”
“Who are they?” Sehun asks.
“And what do they want?” Jongin adds as a follow-up.
“They call themselves The Order of Echs.” Xiumin states, shrugging as he continues. “What they want, we don't know. But Baekhyun and his evil sidekicks often run into them on the job. Apparently, they've got similar targets in mind.”
He pauses, staring at the Jedi intently. “Now, last I heard, the Echs minions broke Golden Blade’s er-- golden blade.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Jongin asks on impulse, but the wheels in Sehun’s head begin to turn.
“What's a Jedi without his ‘Saber?” Xiumin asks, “And where, in this God forsaken territory, would a Jedi be able to find one?”
Reaching deep into the Force, Sehun sees-- a desolate planet, the whispers of the dead, crystallized footprints in the sand.
A flash of red, and his forearms burn, the shock pulling him from his trance.
“Korriban.” Sehun whispers. “Baekhyun’s on Korriban.”
“How strong is your bond, Jedi?” Xiumin speaks with a sombre tone, “Will you follow him through the Sith’s wasteland?”
“We have to,” Jongin says, decision made. “We will do what we must, in order to bring him home.”
------
Jongdae has never felt regret towards his decision to become a Jedi. Even now, as he sits imprisoned, he does not wish for a normal life.
His chains are far more metaphorical than physical, the room in which he is contained is filled with comforts he never knew in his place with the Jedi Order; a testament to his ability to negotiate. What was once a cold room with dripping pipes and frosty temperatures has become warm with hues of gold and foreign silks, creature comforts to soothe his unease.
“Master Jongdae,” He has even acquired not one but two service droids to aid him in his work. Through secretive tinkering and rewiring, he has shifted their loyalties from his captors over to himself. “I bring your daily meal.”
“Thank you, 2AAY.” He says quietly, eyes never leaving the hologram in front of him; ancient runes reading a language long forgotten dance around the room with glowing blue lights.
The language of the Sith Lords come to life in front of his very eyes, their old words speaking of a weapon so powerful, universes would tremble before those who wield it.
He has heard whisperings, legends of such a power, perusing through history books and scrolls in his leisure, teaching himself languages of the dead in search for more knowledge. In every past with even the slightest connection to the Sith race, there is rumour, fear, hushed mutterings of dread in relation to this unnamed, unknown weapon.
Historians suggest that the Empire based their Death Star plans around the legend, but even that pales in comparison to the raw power of the Sith’s ultimate destruction; a combination between Lightsaber and Star Destroyer, a transportable instrument of death powered by Synthetic Crystals the size of ships.
The two most powerful weapons in the known galaxies, combined as one. Surely, the promises of the Sith are true. There is no way to stop such immeasurable power, and entire galaxies will fall at the feet of the Echs.
That’s if Jongdae does his job correctly. He translates the blueprints, the instructions for carnage purely because he wishes to survive. He does not, however, hand the correct dimensions over. When the Sith call for three of something, Jongdae proclaims that they require two.
Hopefully, Baekhyun will find him in time for his sabotage to go unnoticed.
He closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sugar-coated poison of the Siths of Old.
“Put it wherever.” Jongdae says, closing his eyes in preparation for his meditative state. “I’m not all that hungry.”
“As you wish, Master Jongdae.” The Droid replies, setting the plate of unappetizing gruel clumsily on one of Jongdae’s many decorative tables. Three years, and Jongdae has not yet been able to smooth out the kinks in the droid’s movements, nor managed to bargain for more palatable food. “Do not meditate for long, my Lord. The Order will check up on you soon, they wish to download your translations into the 3380 unit at once.”
“I'll be fine, 2AAY.” Jongdae replies, “Do not worry.”
“I'm a medical Droid, sir.” He says, for what Jongdae feels is the hundredth time. If his features were capable of emotion, Jongdae believes he would find mirth written across his silver face, “It is within my programming to worry.”
“Remind me to remove that part with your next reprogramming.” He says lightly.
Breathing deeply, Jongdae reaches out into the Force, his room, the droid, the runes fading away into the darkness of space, stars blurring as his mind travels, searching for a familiar presence.
Jongdae.
He hears Baekhyun’s voice, he can feel the touch of his lover’s hands between his own. It is as if there is no void between them, incomprehensible amounts of space fading away, until all he sees is Baekhyun’s face.
Though something is wrong, this is not the Baekhyun he knows. Flesh melts away from bone, the once tanned skin now sickly and translucent in the few places it still adheres to Baekhyun’s skull. His veins run visible, pumping darkness through his system in place of blood.
Baekhyun, his love, pulls him forward for a kiss-- something he has done so many times before; in person, back when they both dwelled within the Jedi Temple, or through the Force, as they have resorted to in the many years that have passed.
This is not the Baekhyun that Jongdae knows, tongue pushing black tar through his lips as they kiss; Jongdae feels the fluid fill his lungs, he is drowning.
The Sith rejoice, their presence filtering through the connection Jongdae shares with his only.
With a gasp, he severs it, lungs burning as he coughs the phantom liquid clear.
Jongdae knows that within himself, there is no darkness. There is nothing for the Sith to cling to, for he holds no reason to be tempted by the Dark Side of the Force.
For three years, Jongdae has held no worry in his heart for Baekhyun, trusting him wholly, completely.
But now, he is overwhelmed by fear. Just what has become of Byun Baekhyun?
------
“We’re a black ship in an area devoid of light,” Kyungsoo hisses angrily, hands flying across the control panel in a blur. Fire from the enemy ship strikes against the hull, sending the EXODUS ever so slightly off course, “How the fuck can they see us?”
“They must have scanners,” Chanyeol’s voice echoes through the cockpit through the intercom system. Green beams of light blanket the area as he returns fire, “They’re not uncommon on ships that size.”
“I am so torn,” Kyungsoo is cut off as the ship veers, dodging through space debris and enemy fire alike, “As to whether I want to raid it for parts, or blow their asses into a million pieces.”
“I can think of other things for you to blow.” Chanyeol snickers, sending another wave of fire in the enemy ship’s direction.
“Now is not the time to flirt, Park.” Baekhyun shrieks into his own comm system, desperately trying to fix the leaking gas within the ship’s engine. The initial ambush caused major damage to some part he knows nothing about, Kyungsoo sending him deep within the hull with instructions to fix it, or I’ll have your tiny Jedi dick.
He knows next to nothing about fixing engines, but a giant hole, he supposes, is a pretty obvious problem. Scrambling, he tries to find some scrap metal to weld over the tear but comes up bust. With an aggravated scream he throws his hand in the direction of the damage, commanding the Force to bend the pipe closed. It crumples under his power, completely warped but still functional. Kyungsoo will probably try to disembowel him via his nostrils once he discovers the damage, but for now, it’s fixed, and Xiumin will probably have some sort of replacement part lying around, anyway.
“The obnoxious beeping has stopped, so I’m guessing you finally did something right.” Kyungsoo’s voice rings loudly in Baekhyun’s ear piece.
“He insults you because he cares.” Chanyeol chimes in, sounding entirely too happy for someone who is currently fighting for survival against a ship nearly three times the size of his own.
“I’ve got an idea.” Baekhyun says, scrambling through the ship as Kyungsoo effectively navigates them through the onslaught. He throws the door to the escape pod open, buckling himself into the chair. “Jettison the pod, I’ll get onto their ship.”
“No way.” Kyungsoo interjects, “They’ll blow you out of the sky.”
“I told you he cares.” Chanyeol replies smugly.
“Look, they attacked us because they recognize the ship.” Baekhyun says, flicking the switches inside the pod, preparing for a manual override if Kyungsoo continues to object, “My guess is bounty hunters. We’re worth far more to them alive than dead.”
“They’ll pick you up using the tractor beam! Genius!” Chanyeol all but shouts his approval. “You can use that shiny new blade to take them down from the inside.”
“My plans exactly.” Baekhyun confirms, “I can destroy them, then we can tow it back to Xiumin’s and raid it for parts. Win-win.”
“I-- Fine.” Kyungsoo concedes, flicking the switch. With a hiss, the escape pod releases from EXODUS’ hull. “But if you die, let it be known that you’re a dumbass.”
“That’s Kyungsoo-speak for ‘Be careful, Baekhyun, I’d be awfully upset if you were dead’.” Chanyeol supplies helpfully. “Aren’t you two glad I’m here to translate?”
"Less translations, more explosions.” Kyungsoo says. If he has anything else to say, Baekhyun doesn’t hear it, the sheer distance between them severing the connection to the intercom system.
The pod shudders as the tractor beam locks onto his location, pulling him onboard the unfamiliar ship and away from the crossfire.
His plan in motion, Baekhyun removes his Lightsaber from his belt, ready to activate at a moment's notice. He calls out to the Force, draws from its power, body tense and alert as the hull of the enemy ship opens, drawing the escape pod inside the vast silver entrance.
At times like these, the Force is a comforting presence to Baekhyun, calming his nerves in anticipation of battle, drawing him into a state of Zen as he prepares to face unknown attackers.
But the feelings that course through him are not calm, he trembles with the need to destroy, hands twitching as bloodlust consumes his system. He wants to feel his blade pierce his enemies, wants to watch as the life drains from their eyes.
The door to his escape pod is torn from its hinges, metal twisting obscenely as a familiar set of weapons rips through it. White blades of pure light extend from his attacker’s gloved hands, reflected beams catching on the polished silver of his face plate. Baekhyun’s memories bleed into the present; a clash between claws and Saber, the unnatural sound made by the shattering of a core crystal.
The Order of Echs.
Unthinking, unfeeling, Baekhyun acts on instinct, activating his weapon and pushing it straight through the chest of his assailant.
The unknown man screams in indescribable anguish, crying out in pain as his flesh tears and burns. Laughter bubbles from Baekhyun’s lips, unbidden-- he twists the blade to prolong the anguish of his attacker.
Wrenching the blade free, the Jedi steps over the man as he crumples to the floor. The only light source within the cargo hold is the soft magenta glow emanating from Baekhyun’s weapon.
All he can see is red.
------
“Master Jongdae, you seem distracted.” 2AAY is a wonderful service droid, intently in tune with his every emotion; as a medical droid, his sensors can pick up the slightest shift in emotion.
“He seems fine to me.” 3880, on the other hand, is a droid created to aid engineering crews in calculation and construction. Jongdae accidentally destroyed his etiquette protocol module during a particularly intensive re-wiring session. A once useful and respectful droid since turned snide and almost passive aggressive, 3880’s personality is far from that desired in mechanical companions. However, Jongdae has never bothered to fix his mistake, as the droid’s new found personality makes him seem more human.
It eases Jongdae’s loneliness, if only slightly.
“There’s unrest in the Force.” Jongdae says. Closing the hologram software, he rubs fingertips against his temples to ease the pressure mounting in his head. “I can hear so many voices.”
“Do you know any of them?” 3880 asks in his metallic drawl. He downloads the extent of Jongdae’s work so far into his hard drive, calculations flashing through the lights in his eyes as the data transfers.
“I’m not sure.” Jongdae replies thoughtfully. Not once has he attempted to find familiar voices within the rabble in his head, choosing instead to block out the noise altogether. Working with ancient Sith artifacts as he means a connection to the Dark Side, and Jongdae has no wish to deal with their temptations.
“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” 2AAY inputs, tilting his head almost thoughtfully. “And if it did, I am a fully programmed medical droid, equipped with many varieties of---”
“I know, 2AAY. You’ve told me.” Jongdae cuts the droid off before he can begin to list the numerous medical procedures he’s programmed to perform.
Ignoring the droids as they begin to bicker behind him, Jongdae focuses his attention on the Force; reaching deep within it, searching for a presence he can recognise.
Baekhyun is there, as always. No matter what, Jongdae can always feel his presence; it calms him and helps him to retain his sanity. As long as Baekhyun is alive, he will not stop searching. That fact alone is enough to keep Jongdae going.
Through the darkness, he feels not one familiar presence, but two; he is overwhelmed by green and blue, the colours swirling behind his eyes as Jongdae’s consciousness travels.
Sehun. Jongin.
He calls out to them, the distance between them is too far, their bond not strong enough to hold a connection stable enough for proper conversation, but they can hear him, this Jongdae can tell.
Sehun and Jongin bombard him with images, dual powers combining to strengthen the connection ever so slightly. A vast desert appears in Jongdae’s mind, the harsh winds whirling dust into his field of vision.
Korriban… Baekhyun. Fragments of the Jedi’s conversation filter through; Jongdae sees through Jongin’s eyes, then Sehun’s. Footprints crystallized in sand, an ancient furnace destroyed-- still sizzling embers spread across the floor. A valley of derelict tombs which bear fresh scores made quite obviously by the blade of a Jedi.
His heart is filled with hate, his mind consumed by vengeance. A Jedi came when he heard the call of Korriban, and he left its surface a Sith.
Jongdae knows not who the voice speaks to, is this a fragment of his friend’s memories, or an interjection of those which plague him daily?
You know what he’s doing, but I sent you to Korriban because you do not know what he has become.
The face of a man Jongdae does not know appears in his mind, features blurred through the fading connection. Sehun and Jongin seem to be focusing on the conversation rather than the visuals--- Jongdae strains to re-establish their bond. Something within him senses that this information is of utmost importance.
Luhan can sense it, I can’t. Something within Baek is changing. Luhan is afraid.
The Sith laugh, overjoyed.
You need to save him. The stranger says, Before it’s too late.
With a strangled gasp, Jongdae breaks the connection. He simply cannot endure it any longer, the weight of the information he has received sitting heavily on his chest.
He does not fear, for through weakness he is vulnerable. He cannot afford to despair, as the filth of the Dark Side saturates his quarters, poison sinking into the depths of the walls, hiding within the floorboards.
Jongdae allows himself to hope, as it is the only thing he can cling to. If it is at all possible, he’ll save Baekhyun. No matter what he has become.
------
On. Off. On. Off.
Baekhyun flicks the switch of his Lightsaber, rhythmically activating and deactivating his blade. The buzz it creates echoes through the cockpit of the Echs’ ship, dark magenta illuminating the space.
Darkness. Light. Darkness. Light.
There’s something sticky seeping through the material of Baekhyun’s pants, and he knows it to be blood. The pile of bodies he sits on form somewhat of a makeshift throne; Baekhyun is the king, he bears a crown of destruction and carnage.
In a moment of weakness, he opened his heart to the darkness. It filled his being with strength unimaginable, a group of adversaries he once feared now lying dead on the floor, their cries of anguish still echoing through his head.
It's addictive, the kind of power he felt. He aches to experience it again, he wants to rid himself of weakness and embrace the darkness within.
He's stronger, so much more powerful now. His blade doesn't waver, unbreakable with the power of the Dark Side.
“I am a Sith.” Baekhyun whispers to the pile of the dead. “No, I am a Sith Lord, and I will bring a new reign of Darkness.”
“Does the Prince of Darkness mind if I turn on some Goddamn lights? I can't see shit.” Kyungsoo’s voice breaks through Baekhyun’s trance. Lights flicker as they activate, dull yellow glow illuminating the grisly scene before him.
“Jesus, Byun.” Kyungsoo continues, nudging one of the corpses with his foot, the captain squints, surveying the damage to both ship and crew. “You really pulled a number on these guys.”
“I needed to test my power.” Baekhyun whispers hoarsely. “At least now we know my Saber won't break.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t need to slaughter them like a bunch of animals.” Kyungsoo is filled with fear, Baekhyun can sense it, taste it on the tip of his tongue. “Would it have killed you to leave at least one of them alive for interrogation?”
“Already taken care of it.” Baekhyun says. He gestures towards what remains of a corpse lying in the pilot’s chair. “He kindly set the coordinates to their base for me.”
“I don't want to praise you for this, you sick fuck.” Kyungsoo says with thinly veiled disgust. “But at least your little bloodbath yielded some sort of result.”
“You’re welcome.” Baekhyun replies, resuming his earlier motion of flicking the switch on his Lightsaber.
“I'm going to check out the engine.” Kyungsoo says. The captain is all too familiar with death and violence; in his line of work, the sight of the occasional dead body is expected. But the sheer scale of the hate-fueled bloodshed twists his stomach in something akin to disgust. “Just stay here and-- and, well, do-- whatever it is you're doing.”
Kyungsoo scurries away almost demurely, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. Apprehension rolls off him in waves, the kind of terror Baekhyun has never sensed in him before. It fills Baekhyun with an overwhelming sense of pride; one of the most feared men in the galaxy quivers with fear at his display of power.
“This is Firstmate Fuckable to Captain Crankypants and Jedi Tiny Dick, can you read me?” Chanyeol has evidently drawn the EXODUS close enough to the Echs’ vessel that the comm link has re-established. His voice is cheerful, as always, loud and obnoxious in Baekhyun’s earpiece.
“Unfortunately.” Kyungsoo replies, voice echoing. Judging by the hollow thuds, and metallic scraping, it’s quite obvious that the pint-sized humanoid is neck deep in the ship’s engine.
“You love me.” Chanyeol says airily, “How about our resident dick joke? Baekhyun, buddy, you alive in there?”
“I’m here.” Baekhyun replies, monotone. He traces the edge of his Lightsaber along the floor of the command deck, watching idly as the metal curls as if repulsed under the heat of his blade.
“Excellent. I love a good ol’ no casualty mission.” Baekhyun can see the EXODUS orbiting the perimeter of the ship, searching for a port to anchor onto for the journey back to Ryloth. “Did we figure out what their deal is?”
“Echs.” Kyungsoo grunts, cursing as he drops some sort of equipment into the depths of the engine. “They’re dead, but we got the coordinates to their base.”
“Oh!” Chanyeol cries out with glee, “So, Cap, where are we headed.”
“Hoth.” Kyungsoo replies, “There’s an old Rebel base there, it’s been out of commission for hundreds of years but I’m guessing the foundations were salvageable.”
Hoth. Baekhyun curses himself for not realizing sooner, the perpetual cold chilling Jongdae’s bones to an ache, the relentless dripping of pipes. There aren’t a lot of planets within the Outer Rim with that kind of climate. It should have been a simple process of elimination, but Baekhyun was too blind to see the evidence in front of him.
He digs his blade deeper within the floor, light disappearing beneath the layers of rapidly soldering metal.
“You found that connection port, yet?” Kyungsoo’s voice buzzes through the intercom once more.
“Just about.” Chanyeol grunts in exertion, the sound of cables unravelling filling the silence between groans of an almost sexual timbre.
“Quit your moaning before I come down there and give you something to moan about.” Kyungsoo hisses into his mouthpiece.
“Is that a promise?” Chanyeol replies with a breathy laugh, magnetized anchor resonating a dull thud as it attaches to the Echs’ ship.
“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” The captain replies haughtily, “And Baekhyun, clean up your mess, will you? We’re expecting visitors and a mound of corpses isn’t the most welcoming of interior decoration.”
Kyungsoo and Chanyeol continue to bicker, as they always do, as Baekhyun drags body after body to the ship’s incinerator. The last cadaver hits the pile with an unsettling squelch; blood oozing from its wounds.
Tracing his way back towards the cockpit, he digs his Lightsaber into the walls, prolonging the feel of power coursing through his veins as he continues to maim and destroy.
Hoth. Baekhyun has found Jongdae, finally.
Vengeance will be his.
-------
“I’m not saying you're an awful pilot,” Chanyeol begins, looking downright nauseous as the ship lands clumsily on Ryloth’s surface, “But you've definitely had smoother runs.”
“You try flying this ungodly contraption,” Kyungsoo hisses, “It's a lot harder than it looks.”
“You’re being awfully quiet over there, Jedi.” Chanyeol pokes him in the arm none too softly. Baekhyun barely hides a grimace at his former title. “A Credit for your thoughts?”
“We’re hot on the trail of his little boyfriend.” Kyungsoo says flippantly. “He's probably immersed in some sort of dick sucking fantasy.”
Chanyeol retracts his hand, recoiling in disgust.
“Keep it in your pants.” He mutters, wiping the appendage against his shirt.
A flash of green and blue burn beneath Baekhyun’s eyelids. A twin presence he has not felt since--
“Alright!” Kyungsoo exclaims, silencing the engine, “We'll rest and regroup, upgrade the EXODUS and then commence Operation: Baekhyun Gets Laid.”
“You two go on ahead.” Baekhyun says, “I’ll check for salvageable parts.”
“But you don't know anything about--” Chanyeol’s sentence is effectively cut off by a combination of Kyungsoo’s threatening glare and the elbow which finds purchase between two of his ribs. Rubbing the injury with a pained grimace, the bounty hunter concedes. “I mean, yeah sure, do your thing.”
“We’ll be inside with Xiumin if you need us.” Kyungsoo says, dragging Chanyeol from the ship by his ear.
Baekhyun welcomes the silence.
Sehun and Jongin are on Ryloth, he can feel the purity of their auras radiating through the Force. He bristles at the contact, tentative tendrils of communication reaching out to him, calling him forth.
He blocks them out, turning his focus on Jongdae instead. Baekhyun can barely feel his beloved at the edges of his consciousness, almost as if Jongdae has attempted to break contact, their former bond the only thing connecting them still.
The golden glimmer and sheer cold he has come to associate with Jongdae’s presence within the Force filters slowly, Baekhyun slipping through the cracks in Jongdae’s defenses.
Jongdae, he calls out, Can you hear me?
Always. Jongdae replies, the phantom touch of cool hands slide along Baekhyun’s neck.
I’ve found you. I'll be with you soon. He says as Jongdae’s form materializes in front of him, corporeal and pliant to his touch. The distance between them no longer seems so far; Baekhyun spills his desperation and longing, dragging Jongdae into a messy kiss.
They’ve been gentle lovers for countless years, a close friendship made something more not through the path of overwhelming lust or desire, but from a deeper yearning from their very souls for companionship, intimacy. Jongdae and Baekhyun are undoubtedly soul mates, bonded with every fibre of their beings.
Attraction burns beneath Baekhyun’s fingertips, the intense urge to own, claim, dominate consuming him as he bites marks into the skin of Jongdae’s neck. Fingertips claw along his shoulder blades, Jongdae’s breathy cries spur the lust coursing through Baekhyun’s system.
It has been far too long since Baekhyun has held Jongdae in his arms; the real Jongdae, flesh and blood and not an apparition of the Force. Red melts into gold, his vision blurring in rage as he envisions the masked faces of the men who took Jongdae from him, denied Baekhyun the unadulterated pleasure of Jongdae’s warm skin against his own.
Fear emanates from Jongdae in waves, his lover shocked still in crippling terror; Baekhyun blinks, blood red smears dragging across his vision and Jongdae is gone-- wrenched from his hold as the connection tears, his presence vanishing in an instant.
Baekhyun can feel Jongdae’s anguish, something, someone has torn them apart once more. He flings his clenched fist into the metal walls of the Echs’ vessel, Lightsaber lying forgotten on his belt, bones shattering upon impact.
Not once, but twice, have these men pulled Jongdae from him in the dead of night.
It will not happen a third time.
Anger builds within him as he prepares the EXODUS for take off, keying in the coordinates for the ice planet Hoth.
Baekhyun has destroyed countless members of Echs, and he will destroy more. He will not rest until each one of them lies dead, submerged in puddles of their own blood.
He hopes they will beg as he kills them, plead for mercy as he pushes his blade through flesh. He wants to hear their anguished cries as he ignores them, he longs to see their lifeless eyes, faces twisted in agony.
He will have his vengeance.
Across the galaxy, the voices of the dead cry out.
The new order of the Sith has begun.
PART TWO
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: Baekchen, side!Chansoo, Xiuhun if you squint.
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Romance, Star Wars!AU
Summary The Sith homeworld is no place for a Jedi, but Baekhyun has run out of options.
A/N: Written for xiuflakes at daelightsaving Tao and Yixing are the droids 3380 and 2AAY, respectively. Luhan is a Twi'lek.
Baekhyun watches as the sand swallows his footprints; winds on a desolate planet shifting the grains and covering his tracks. Korriban doesn’t want him to leave her surface, she wants him to join the tombs that line the Valley of the Dark Lords.
The Force, ever present, slides over his skin in a caress. He feels repulsed at the touch, for this place is strong with the Dark Side, and there is no comforting wave of tranquility from its embrace.
Estranged as he may be from the New Jedi Order, the Force still remains strong with him; it guides him through the desolated ruins.
Jedi do not belong here. The wind seems to whisper, hundreds of voices muttering and groaning. They protest his presence, awakened by the need to taint.
“I am no Jedi.” Baekhyun replies defiantly, but the gale which blows sand and dust and the remnants of old bones show that the spirits of the Sith do not believe him.
He has such potential. A voice rasps against his ear, the immense power of the Dark Side washing over him. Baekhyun can’t breathe. So much hate, so much anger.
“I need a crystal,” He replies, choking. Baekhyun feels as if his mouth is filled with sand, his body unmoving as the Sith Lords saturate his senses with the Dark Side. “I can’t get one from Kardril, or from Ageda. This is my last resort.”
You will die by the heat of the furnace. Baekhyun sees it; the moment where the temperature boils his blood beneath his skin, hair melting as he perishes in indescribable agony.
“I can do it, I have to do it.”
And the planet is still. Baekhyun searches his surroundings, trying to find a familiar landmark. His footsteps have appeared in the sand; they hold a crystalline shine-- his presence forever immortalized on the planet’s surface.
------
The furnaces of Korriban are as awful as Baekhyun had imagined. He’s unsure if the dark pink tint to his hands and arms are from the scorching heat, or the subtle glow of the flames as they lick at already blackened stone.
He should feel a sense of pride, for he is the first human to forge a Lightsaber crystal in these flames, and the first since the Clone Wars to stoke the fire.
But pride is a path to the Dark Side, and Baekhyun shudders as he thinks of the Sith he has faced; warped, twisted souls encased in a mortal body which reflects the corruption within. Even a human will come to decay under the power of the Dark Side--- old footage of Emperor Palpatine flashing to the forefront of his mind.
Yet here he stands, the flesh of his forearms beginning to bubble and blister as he carefully forms the faceted crystal within the embers.
Synthetic Crystals are an invention of the Sith; an unnatural abomination that defies the teachings of the Jedi, dark and powerful objects poisoned by the Dark Side.
Baekhyun is tainting his pure hands with filth, but he sees no other option.
------
Baekhyun blocks the voices from his head as he meditates. It’s unwise, infusing his newly forged crystal in a place where the Dark Side is so prevalent, but it’s safe. He sits in the ruins of one of the old Sith temples, disassembled parts of a new Lightsaber in front of him and Synthetic Crystal in his hand.
It has been so long since he has done this; meditated over the fresh core of a Lightsaber, conducted the Force through his body and into its center. Cracking an eye open, he looks at the crystal with disdain-- it glints innocently in the light of the flickering fire, casting multicoloured beams of light onto the floor and the fabric of Baekhyun’s pants. It seems so beautiful, pure, but the knowledge of whence it came makes Baekhyun shiver in unbridled disgust.
Reaching out into the ethos, he cradles his new crystal with care, synthetic or not, it was crafted by the hands of a Jedi; it will not become a weapon of suffering and death, Baekhyun is sure.
A glint of yellow light, the familiar touch of Jongdae’s hands on his own; his love feels his presence within the Force, reaching out to Baekhyun across the light years between them.
Pain, so much pain; Jongdae is suffering and Baekhyun feels it. His bones ache as Jongdae’s do, and he knows the strength of their bond will have the skin of Jongdae’s arms burning and peeling with the phantom touch of the furnace’s flames.
Laughter echoes, the voices of the dead. Baekhyun feels their rage, their hatred; it flows through him as the sand filters through the forgotten emptiness of their tombs.
Jongdae is gone, his presence replaced by taunting whispers and promises of strength.
Baekhyun is weak, so weak. For years he has searched, hanging on to slivers of hope, Jongdae’s sporadic appearance in the Force as he scours endlessly, traversing galaxies on a quest to him.
His mind brings memories, unbidden, unearthed within the recesses of his consciousness. Jongdae’s cries, the sounds of battle. The unholy noise as Baekhyun’s Lightsaber shatters in his hands, the grief as his soul crumbles--- Jongdae disappears into the darkness, dragged away by men with claws of pure light.
In his memories, Baekhyun retrieves Jongdae’s fallen Lightsaber, cradling the weapon to his chest. It's the only part of Jongdae that remains, an extension of his body, the golden blade a reflection of his way with the Force.
In the present, Baekhyun’s eyes snap open. The crystal between his palms emits a glow, but he dares not look, too afraid of what he could find.
With touch alone, he slides the core into the abandoned husk of Jongdae’s former weapon, pressing the switch and filling the room with a subtle glow as the Lightsaber flickers to life.
The blade shines with a magenta so dark it seems almost red.
Voices of one thousand Sith Lords rejoice.
------
The tavern falls into silence, boisterous chatter and upbeat music coming to a halt as two looming figures walk through the door.
“What a reception,” Jongin mutters, “It’s like they’ve never seen humans before.”
“I don’t think it’s the human part they’re unused to.” Sehun replies, gesturing to the numerous human patrons of the establishment. They stare and whisper behind shaking hands, the word Jedi echoing throughout the room.
“It’s rare to see Jedi in these parts.” The bartender says cheerfully, a male Twi’lek with skin the colour of burnt orange. He pours the two strangers a drink as they seat themselves at the bar.
“That’s not what we’ve heard,” Jongin says, sipping at his drink carefully. The entire bar remains silent, patrons leaning forward on their stools in an attempt to eavesdrop on their conversation.
The barkeep spits out a flurry of words in Twi’leki, the two Lekku attached the back of his head flailing wildly in emphasis. Conversation begins to buzz back to life, the musicians in the corner resuming their cheerful tune.
“Sorry about that.” The Twi’lek says. “You never know who could be listening in a place like this.”
“Much appreciated.” Sehun nods, eyeing a small Lurmen as he reaches out to touch his Lightsaber. It’s odd, seeing one of these creatures so far from home, and so interested in weapons of war. Swatting the curious hand away, he regards the Twi’lek thoughtfully. “Are you Xiumin?”
“Xiumin?” The Twi’lek laughs, Lekku twitching with mirth behind him, “No, I’m Luhan.”
“I’ve never heard of a Luhan,” Jongin says, finishing his drink with a sigh. It’s sweet, slightly tangy, nothing like anything he’s ever had before. “Which means you’re not important. Where is Xiumin.”
“Look, Jedi,” Luhan spits, sending a glare in Jongin’s direction. “If you wanna find Xiumin, you gotta go through me.”
“If that’s what it takes.” Sehun places his hand on his Lightsaber, ready to fight. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jongin doing the same.
“I’m no good to you dead, kid.” Luhan says, shifting his robe slightly to display his own Lightsaber; crudely made, but none the less recognisable as a weapon of the Jedi.
“How did you get that?” Sehun hisses, “That’s not something you should have.”
“Xiumin has connections,” Luhan says smugly, stroking the holster almost fondly.
“Baekhyun.” Jongin breathes, he can sense it now, the familiar presence radiating from the Lightsaber’s core.
“So that’s why you’re here.” The Twi’lek hums. “Come. He’s expecting you.”
“Xiumin knew we were coming?” Jongin asks, scrambling behind Luhan as he takes them through a curtained doorway, leading out to a hidden hallway behind the bar. “He must be strong with the Force.”
“Xiumin can’t sense the Force for shit.” Luhan explains, guiding them through winding corridors. It’s dark, almost impossible to see, impossible to escape. Impossible to navigate, unless one already knows the way. The Jedi are trapped. “But when you’re friends with someone like Baekhyun, you kinda learn to expect trouble.”
The trio arrives at an unmarked door, apprehension thick and heavy within the air.
Finally after years of searching, they’re finally closing in on the trail of Byun Baekhyun.
------
A fist comes flying at Baekhyun’s face as he enters the ship, fast and powerful, he barely manages to dodge it in time.
“You asshole.” Do Kyungsoo; thief, smuggler, and otherwise villain for hire, packs a mighty punch. The bounty on his head is worth more than the economy of most planets, so he's had and won, his fair share of fist fights. Baekhyun’s been on the receiving end of one of the tiny humanoid’s punches on more than one occasion, and he's quietly relieved to have dodged the blow-- quite literally--- this time. The shattered cheekbone Baekhyun received upon their first meeting still hasn't quite healed. “Do you know how long we've been waiting for you?”
“Two weeks, three days, seven hours and forty-five minutes.” Pipes a voice from the cockpit. Ironically, Kyungsoo’s right-hand man, gunner, and unofficial punching bag is none other than Park Chanyeol, the most feared bounty hunter in the outer rim territories.
“I've lost so many jobs waiting for you to finish your little pilgrimage.” Kyungsoo moans, slumping against one of the many control panels adorning the ship.
“We wouldn't have been able to do those jobs anyway.” Baekhyun points out thoughtfully, righting the switches skewed during Kyungsoo's tantrum. “I'm useless without a Lightsaber.”
“Is this new one shatterproof? Or is visiting this nasty ass planet going to be a regular thing?” Chanyeol asks, pressing buttons on the main control panel, stirring the engine to life.
“No. This one's not going to break.” Baekhyun says, eyeing the weapon his hand. He can feel the power coursing from the new core, flashes of red light dancing behind his as he blinks.
“How does someone break a Lightsaber, anyway?” Kyungsoo mutters, taking a seat next to chanyeol and keying in the coordinates. Ryloth is a fair distance away, but he'll manage the run in only a few parsecs. The EXODUS isn't known as the fastest ship in the galaxy for nothing.
“I don't know,” Baekhyun says. “But it won't happen again.”
“Think fast!” Chanyeol yells, throwing a lump of scrap metal in the Jedi’s direction. On pure instinct alone, Baekhyun activates the blade, slicing through the projectile before it can make contact with his nose.
“Huh,” Chanyeol says, squinting at Baekhyun carefully, “How are people going to call you Golden Blade, now? Your ‘saber is red.”
“Gone Dark Side, have you, Jedi?” Kyungsoo snickers in mirth. He’s been laughing about Baekhyun’s reputation for years; the golden colour of his former weapon indicates that he's a scholar, not a warrior-- pure of heart and mind. Yet here he is, the second most wanted being in the territory, a fearsome warrior who can strike fear into the hearts of armies with just the activation of his Lightsaber.
Baekhyun, too, holds mirth towards his reputation. He is no scholar, the Lightsaber which brought him his name was originally Jongdae’s-- lost in the commotion as he was dragged from his room in the dead of night.
The Lightsaber he wields is an abomination, Baekhyun dares not call it his own, the shell of the hilt belongs to Jongdae, the core an invention of the Sith. His original weapon shone the most beautiful shade of green, the colour of a warrior, a Jedi Knight of unparalleled skill.
“Synth Crystals are always red.” Baekhyun says, lying to his friends, lying to himself. The crystal he forged in the furnaces of Korriban had been clear, Baekhyun’s fear and rage tainting it with red hues.
Golden Blade Baekhyun-- to the Order, he is a traitor. To the outer rim, an enraged scholar. To the Sith of Korriban, still calling out even as the EXODUS lifts from the surface and into the sky, he is one of them.
But to himself, Baekhyun is a failure.
------
“So, Xiumin, if that is your real name,” Jongin begins, seemingly uncaring that they haven’t even caught glimpse of the mysterious informant’s face, “Word has it you know where Baekhyun is.”
“You don’t interrogate people like that, Jongin, oh my God.” Sehun resists the urge to bury his face within his palms. Newly accredited as he may be, he’s still a Jedi Knight. There are ways in which one must act under a title such as his, and it appears as if his friend has forgotten them completely in his excitement.
“Correct.” Xiumin doesn’t bother turning around to face them, form swathed in shadow. His voice is surprisingly high pitched, and the rather normal sized arm chair hides his form completely. Sehun and Jongin, with wild imaginations, had assumed the fearsome figure known only as Xiumin to have a figure representing his power within the territory.
“What, exactly is correct?” Jongin asks, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“You’re both correct.” Xiumin says, mirth evident in his voice. “That is definitely not how you should interrogate someone, and it’s not my real name.”
“Right, uh--” Jongin fumbles. Sehun suspects he should take over the interrogation aspect, but he’s rather amused by his partner’s failure.
“You’re here about Baekhyun, I assume?” He asks, finally rising from his chair and advancing on the duo. He’s small, head barely reaching Sehun’s shoulder, but he’s the most intimidating person the young Jedi has ever laid eyes on, and he’s angered Master Junmyeon more times than he can count.
“Tell me what he’s doing.” Sehun says, waving his palm in a circular motion, willing the Force to coax the truth from Xiumin’s lips.
“Jedi tricks don't work on me, kid.” Xiumin says with a laugh. “Baek’s been tryin’ for years.”
“So you do know him.” Sehun says in surprise. Every lead they've followed thus far has been a bust; the only information they have unearthed about their missing friend is that he fights with what is presumably Jongdae’s missing Lightsaber and that he might be found somewhere within the Outer Rim. Finally, their search has brought them not only to his trail but to a place he evidently frequents.
“Yep.” Xiumin drawls, “But I don’t know you. Tell me the right names, and I’ll tell you the right information.”
“And if we don’t give the right names?” Jongin enquires cautiously.
“Then I send you to the wrong side of the galaxy.” Xiumin deadpans. “Do you know how many people come through my door in search of him? I’m not going to sell him out to just anyone, you know.”
“I’m assuming we have to pay for this information.” Sehun says, picking up on keywords in the informant's phrasing.
“I have my price, but we’ll discuss it later.” He says with a flippant wave of his hand. “Names, if you so please.”
“I’m Jongin, and this is Sehun.” The young Jedi says, holding his breath in anticipation. The three of them had been close once before. They trained and fought and studied the ways of the Force together. Hopefully, their former bond is enough to loosen the lips of the mysterious informant.
“The brats!” Xiumin cries in glee, “He talks about you all the time.”
Sehun stills in shock. The old nickname brings a wave of nostalgia; days spent within the Temple, causing trouble. Baekhyun is off causing another kind of trouble, but it’s nice to see that some things never change.
“Sit down, make yourselves at home.” Xiumin gestures at the piles of cushions strewn along the wooden floorboards.
“So,” Sehun begins, lowering himself to the floor, “It’s been three years, what has he been doing?”
“General villainy for hire, mostly.” He replies, demeanour suddenly much softer, “Coups, robbery, smuggling. He found himself a place on the EXODUS, if that’s a name that rings a bell.”
“Yeah.” Sehun and Jongin cast each other knowing looks, the EXODUS is a feared name within the galaxy, the ship's black Hull almost invisible in the darkness of space, with a crew so frightful no soul dares to speak of their encounters.
“There’s three of ‘em on that ship: Kyungsoo, the brains. Chanyeol, the brawn, and Baekhyun, the negotiator.” Minseok counts on slender fingertips.Tales from the few survivors shed light on Baekhyun's position within the crew; no one weak enough to fall against them in battle would have the mental capacity to resist Baekhyun’s way with the Force.
“Your little Jedi pal blocks their memories with his magic hand.” Xiumin supplies, grinning almost proudly.
“But if he does that, then why does he have a reputation? Why do any of them, for that matter?” Jongin mutters, utterly perplexed.
“Because Kyungsoo gets off on the fear of his victims.” Xiumin says with a shrug. “Plus, it's easy to rob a ship with that kind of reputation, but it's not so easy to stay hidden. Allowing people to fear them without quite knowing why, well, that's very handy for business, don’t you think?”
Sehun and Jongin sit in shocked silence, unable to believe what their friend had become; Baekhyun's actions were in complete discord with the teachings of the Order, the council of Jedi Masters who had nurtured and refined the very powers he is now abusing. The Baekhyun they once knew died as he denounced the Order.
“There’s another reason,” Xiumin says quietly as if concerned that their conversation may be overheard, “They're looking for Jongdae.”
“Why would a smuggler and a bounty hunter team up with a Jedi to find another Jedi?” Jongin ponders aloud.
“There's a way of life out here,” Xiumin says, eyes hard, “And the people who took your little friend are trying to compromise that.”
“Who are they?” Sehun asks.
“And what do they want?” Jongin adds as a follow-up.
“They call themselves The Order of Echs.” Xiumin states, shrugging as he continues. “What they want, we don't know. But Baekhyun and his evil sidekicks often run into them on the job. Apparently, they've got similar targets in mind.”
He pauses, staring at the Jedi intently. “Now, last I heard, the Echs minions broke Golden Blade’s er-- golden blade.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Jongin asks on impulse, but the wheels in Sehun’s head begin to turn.
“What's a Jedi without his ‘Saber?” Xiumin asks, “And where, in this God forsaken territory, would a Jedi be able to find one?”
Reaching deep into the Force, Sehun sees-- a desolate planet, the whispers of the dead, crystallized footprints in the sand.
A flash of red, and his forearms burn, the shock pulling him from his trance.
“Korriban.” Sehun whispers. “Baekhyun’s on Korriban.”
“How strong is your bond, Jedi?” Xiumin speaks with a sombre tone, “Will you follow him through the Sith’s wasteland?”
“We have to,” Jongin says, decision made. “We will do what we must, in order to bring him home.”
------
Jongdae has never felt regret towards his decision to become a Jedi. Even now, as he sits imprisoned, he does not wish for a normal life.
His chains are far more metaphorical than physical, the room in which he is contained is filled with comforts he never knew in his place with the Jedi Order; a testament to his ability to negotiate. What was once a cold room with dripping pipes and frosty temperatures has become warm with hues of gold and foreign silks, creature comforts to soothe his unease.
“Master Jongdae,” He has even acquired not one but two service droids to aid him in his work. Through secretive tinkering and rewiring, he has shifted their loyalties from his captors over to himself. “I bring your daily meal.”
“Thank you, 2AAY.” He says quietly, eyes never leaving the hologram in front of him; ancient runes reading a language long forgotten dance around the room with glowing blue lights.
The language of the Sith Lords come to life in front of his very eyes, their old words speaking of a weapon so powerful, universes would tremble before those who wield it.
He has heard whisperings, legends of such a power, perusing through history books and scrolls in his leisure, teaching himself languages of the dead in search for more knowledge. In every past with even the slightest connection to the Sith race, there is rumour, fear, hushed mutterings of dread in relation to this unnamed, unknown weapon.
Historians suggest that the Empire based their Death Star plans around the legend, but even that pales in comparison to the raw power of the Sith’s ultimate destruction; a combination between Lightsaber and Star Destroyer, a transportable instrument of death powered by Synthetic Crystals the size of ships.
The two most powerful weapons in the known galaxies, combined as one. Surely, the promises of the Sith are true. There is no way to stop such immeasurable power, and entire galaxies will fall at the feet of the Echs.
That’s if Jongdae does his job correctly. He translates the blueprints, the instructions for carnage purely because he wishes to survive. He does not, however, hand the correct dimensions over. When the Sith call for three of something, Jongdae proclaims that they require two.
Hopefully, Baekhyun will find him in time for his sabotage to go unnoticed.
He closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sugar-coated poison of the Siths of Old.
“Put it wherever.” Jongdae says, closing his eyes in preparation for his meditative state. “I’m not all that hungry.”
“As you wish, Master Jongdae.” The Droid replies, setting the plate of unappetizing gruel clumsily on one of Jongdae’s many decorative tables. Three years, and Jongdae has not yet been able to smooth out the kinks in the droid’s movements, nor managed to bargain for more palatable food. “Do not meditate for long, my Lord. The Order will check up on you soon, they wish to download your translations into the 3380 unit at once.”
“I'll be fine, 2AAY.” Jongdae replies, “Do not worry.”
“I'm a medical Droid, sir.” He says, for what Jongdae feels is the hundredth time. If his features were capable of emotion, Jongdae believes he would find mirth written across his silver face, “It is within my programming to worry.”
“Remind me to remove that part with your next reprogramming.” He says lightly.
Breathing deeply, Jongdae reaches out into the Force, his room, the droid, the runes fading away into the darkness of space, stars blurring as his mind travels, searching for a familiar presence.
Jongdae.
He hears Baekhyun’s voice, he can feel the touch of his lover’s hands between his own. It is as if there is no void between them, incomprehensible amounts of space fading away, until all he sees is Baekhyun’s face.
Though something is wrong, this is not the Baekhyun he knows. Flesh melts away from bone, the once tanned skin now sickly and translucent in the few places it still adheres to Baekhyun’s skull. His veins run visible, pumping darkness through his system in place of blood.
Baekhyun, his love, pulls him forward for a kiss-- something he has done so many times before; in person, back when they both dwelled within the Jedi Temple, or through the Force, as they have resorted to in the many years that have passed.
This is not the Baekhyun that Jongdae knows, tongue pushing black tar through his lips as they kiss; Jongdae feels the fluid fill his lungs, he is drowning.
The Sith rejoice, their presence filtering through the connection Jongdae shares with his only.
With a gasp, he severs it, lungs burning as he coughs the phantom liquid clear.
Jongdae knows that within himself, there is no darkness. There is nothing for the Sith to cling to, for he holds no reason to be tempted by the Dark Side of the Force.
For three years, Jongdae has held no worry in his heart for Baekhyun, trusting him wholly, completely.
But now, he is overwhelmed by fear. Just what has become of Byun Baekhyun?
------
“We’re a black ship in an area devoid of light,” Kyungsoo hisses angrily, hands flying across the control panel in a blur. Fire from the enemy ship strikes against the hull, sending the EXODUS ever so slightly off course, “How the fuck can they see us?”
“They must have scanners,” Chanyeol’s voice echoes through the cockpit through the intercom system. Green beams of light blanket the area as he returns fire, “They’re not uncommon on ships that size.”
“I am so torn,” Kyungsoo is cut off as the ship veers, dodging through space debris and enemy fire alike, “As to whether I want to raid it for parts, or blow their asses into a million pieces.”
“I can think of other things for you to blow.” Chanyeol snickers, sending another wave of fire in the enemy ship’s direction.
“Now is not the time to flirt, Park.” Baekhyun shrieks into his own comm system, desperately trying to fix the leaking gas within the ship’s engine. The initial ambush caused major damage to some part he knows nothing about, Kyungsoo sending him deep within the hull with instructions to fix it, or I’ll have your tiny Jedi dick.
He knows next to nothing about fixing engines, but a giant hole, he supposes, is a pretty obvious problem. Scrambling, he tries to find some scrap metal to weld over the tear but comes up bust. With an aggravated scream he throws his hand in the direction of the damage, commanding the Force to bend the pipe closed. It crumples under his power, completely warped but still functional. Kyungsoo will probably try to disembowel him via his nostrils once he discovers the damage, but for now, it’s fixed, and Xiumin will probably have some sort of replacement part lying around, anyway.
“The obnoxious beeping has stopped, so I’m guessing you finally did something right.” Kyungsoo’s voice rings loudly in Baekhyun’s ear piece.
“He insults you because he cares.” Chanyeol chimes in, sounding entirely too happy for someone who is currently fighting for survival against a ship nearly three times the size of his own.
“I’ve got an idea.” Baekhyun says, scrambling through the ship as Kyungsoo effectively navigates them through the onslaught. He throws the door to the escape pod open, buckling himself into the chair. “Jettison the pod, I’ll get onto their ship.”
“No way.” Kyungsoo interjects, “They’ll blow you out of the sky.”
“I told you he cares.” Chanyeol replies smugly.
“Look, they attacked us because they recognize the ship.” Baekhyun says, flicking the switches inside the pod, preparing for a manual override if Kyungsoo continues to object, “My guess is bounty hunters. We’re worth far more to them alive than dead.”
“They’ll pick you up using the tractor beam! Genius!” Chanyeol all but shouts his approval. “You can use that shiny new blade to take them down from the inside.”
“My plans exactly.” Baekhyun confirms, “I can destroy them, then we can tow it back to Xiumin’s and raid it for parts. Win-win.”
“I-- Fine.” Kyungsoo concedes, flicking the switch. With a hiss, the escape pod releases from EXODUS’ hull. “But if you die, let it be known that you’re a dumbass.”
“That’s Kyungsoo-speak for ‘Be careful, Baekhyun, I’d be awfully upset if you were dead’.” Chanyeol supplies helpfully. “Aren’t you two glad I’m here to translate?”
"Less translations, more explosions.” Kyungsoo says. If he has anything else to say, Baekhyun doesn’t hear it, the sheer distance between them severing the connection to the intercom system.
The pod shudders as the tractor beam locks onto his location, pulling him onboard the unfamiliar ship and away from the crossfire.
His plan in motion, Baekhyun removes his Lightsaber from his belt, ready to activate at a moment's notice. He calls out to the Force, draws from its power, body tense and alert as the hull of the enemy ship opens, drawing the escape pod inside the vast silver entrance.
At times like these, the Force is a comforting presence to Baekhyun, calming his nerves in anticipation of battle, drawing him into a state of Zen as he prepares to face unknown attackers.
But the feelings that course through him are not calm, he trembles with the need to destroy, hands twitching as bloodlust consumes his system. He wants to feel his blade pierce his enemies, wants to watch as the life drains from their eyes.
The door to his escape pod is torn from its hinges, metal twisting obscenely as a familiar set of weapons rips through it. White blades of pure light extend from his attacker’s gloved hands, reflected beams catching on the polished silver of his face plate. Baekhyun’s memories bleed into the present; a clash between claws and Saber, the unnatural sound made by the shattering of a core crystal.
The Order of Echs.
Unthinking, unfeeling, Baekhyun acts on instinct, activating his weapon and pushing it straight through the chest of his assailant.
The unknown man screams in indescribable anguish, crying out in pain as his flesh tears and burns. Laughter bubbles from Baekhyun’s lips, unbidden-- he twists the blade to prolong the anguish of his attacker.
Wrenching the blade free, the Jedi steps over the man as he crumples to the floor. The only light source within the cargo hold is the soft magenta glow emanating from Baekhyun’s weapon.
All he can see is red.
------
“Master Jongdae, you seem distracted.” 2AAY is a wonderful service droid, intently in tune with his every emotion; as a medical droid, his sensors can pick up the slightest shift in emotion.
“He seems fine to me.” 3880, on the other hand, is a droid created to aid engineering crews in calculation and construction. Jongdae accidentally destroyed his etiquette protocol module during a particularly intensive re-wiring session. A once useful and respectful droid since turned snide and almost passive aggressive, 3880’s personality is far from that desired in mechanical companions. However, Jongdae has never bothered to fix his mistake, as the droid’s new found personality makes him seem more human.
It eases Jongdae’s loneliness, if only slightly.
“There’s unrest in the Force.” Jongdae says. Closing the hologram software, he rubs fingertips against his temples to ease the pressure mounting in his head. “I can hear so many voices.”
“Do you know any of them?” 3880 asks in his metallic drawl. He downloads the extent of Jongdae’s work so far into his hard drive, calculations flashing through the lights in his eyes as the data transfers.
“I’m not sure.” Jongdae replies thoughtfully. Not once has he attempted to find familiar voices within the rabble in his head, choosing instead to block out the noise altogether. Working with ancient Sith artifacts as he means a connection to the Dark Side, and Jongdae has no wish to deal with their temptations.
“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” 2AAY inputs, tilting his head almost thoughtfully. “And if it did, I am a fully programmed medical droid, equipped with many varieties of---”
“I know, 2AAY. You’ve told me.” Jongdae cuts the droid off before he can begin to list the numerous medical procedures he’s programmed to perform.
Ignoring the droids as they begin to bicker behind him, Jongdae focuses his attention on the Force; reaching deep within it, searching for a presence he can recognise.
Baekhyun is there, as always. No matter what, Jongdae can always feel his presence; it calms him and helps him to retain his sanity. As long as Baekhyun is alive, he will not stop searching. That fact alone is enough to keep Jongdae going.
Through the darkness, he feels not one familiar presence, but two; he is overwhelmed by green and blue, the colours swirling behind his eyes as Jongdae’s consciousness travels.
Sehun. Jongin.
He calls out to them, the distance between them is too far, their bond not strong enough to hold a connection stable enough for proper conversation, but they can hear him, this Jongdae can tell.
Sehun and Jongin bombard him with images, dual powers combining to strengthen the connection ever so slightly. A vast desert appears in Jongdae’s mind, the harsh winds whirling dust into his field of vision.
Korriban… Baekhyun. Fragments of the Jedi’s conversation filter through; Jongdae sees through Jongin’s eyes, then Sehun’s. Footprints crystallized in sand, an ancient furnace destroyed-- still sizzling embers spread across the floor. A valley of derelict tombs which bear fresh scores made quite obviously by the blade of a Jedi.
His heart is filled with hate, his mind consumed by vengeance. A Jedi came when he heard the call of Korriban, and he left its surface a Sith.
Jongdae knows not who the voice speaks to, is this a fragment of his friend’s memories, or an interjection of those which plague him daily?
You know what he’s doing, but I sent you to Korriban because you do not know what he has become.
The face of a man Jongdae does not know appears in his mind, features blurred through the fading connection. Sehun and Jongin seem to be focusing on the conversation rather than the visuals--- Jongdae strains to re-establish their bond. Something within him senses that this information is of utmost importance.
Luhan can sense it, I can’t. Something within Baek is changing. Luhan is afraid.
The Sith laugh, overjoyed.
You need to save him. The stranger says, Before it’s too late.
With a strangled gasp, Jongdae breaks the connection. He simply cannot endure it any longer, the weight of the information he has received sitting heavily on his chest.
He does not fear, for through weakness he is vulnerable. He cannot afford to despair, as the filth of the Dark Side saturates his quarters, poison sinking into the depths of the walls, hiding within the floorboards.
Jongdae allows himself to hope, as it is the only thing he can cling to. If it is at all possible, he’ll save Baekhyun. No matter what he has become.
------
On. Off. On. Off.
Baekhyun flicks the switch of his Lightsaber, rhythmically activating and deactivating his blade. The buzz it creates echoes through the cockpit of the Echs’ ship, dark magenta illuminating the space.
Darkness. Light. Darkness. Light.
There’s something sticky seeping through the material of Baekhyun’s pants, and he knows it to be blood. The pile of bodies he sits on form somewhat of a makeshift throne; Baekhyun is the king, he bears a crown of destruction and carnage.
In a moment of weakness, he opened his heart to the darkness. It filled his being with strength unimaginable, a group of adversaries he once feared now lying dead on the floor, their cries of anguish still echoing through his head.
It's addictive, the kind of power he felt. He aches to experience it again, he wants to rid himself of weakness and embrace the darkness within.
He's stronger, so much more powerful now. His blade doesn't waver, unbreakable with the power of the Dark Side.
“I am a Sith.” Baekhyun whispers to the pile of the dead. “No, I am a Sith Lord, and I will bring a new reign of Darkness.”
“Does the Prince of Darkness mind if I turn on some Goddamn lights? I can't see shit.” Kyungsoo’s voice breaks through Baekhyun’s trance. Lights flicker as they activate, dull yellow glow illuminating the grisly scene before him.
“Jesus, Byun.” Kyungsoo continues, nudging one of the corpses with his foot, the captain squints, surveying the damage to both ship and crew. “You really pulled a number on these guys.”
“I needed to test my power.” Baekhyun whispers hoarsely. “At least now we know my Saber won't break.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t need to slaughter them like a bunch of animals.” Kyungsoo is filled with fear, Baekhyun can sense it, taste it on the tip of his tongue. “Would it have killed you to leave at least one of them alive for interrogation?”
“Already taken care of it.” Baekhyun says. He gestures towards what remains of a corpse lying in the pilot’s chair. “He kindly set the coordinates to their base for me.”
“I don't want to praise you for this, you sick fuck.” Kyungsoo says with thinly veiled disgust. “But at least your little bloodbath yielded some sort of result.”
“You’re welcome.” Baekhyun replies, resuming his earlier motion of flicking the switch on his Lightsaber.
“I'm going to check out the engine.” Kyungsoo says. The captain is all too familiar with death and violence; in his line of work, the sight of the occasional dead body is expected. But the sheer scale of the hate-fueled bloodshed twists his stomach in something akin to disgust. “Just stay here and-- and, well, do-- whatever it is you're doing.”
Kyungsoo scurries away almost demurely, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. Apprehension rolls off him in waves, the kind of terror Baekhyun has never sensed in him before. It fills Baekhyun with an overwhelming sense of pride; one of the most feared men in the galaxy quivers with fear at his display of power.
“This is Firstmate Fuckable to Captain Crankypants and Jedi Tiny Dick, can you read me?” Chanyeol has evidently drawn the EXODUS close enough to the Echs’ vessel that the comm link has re-established. His voice is cheerful, as always, loud and obnoxious in Baekhyun’s earpiece.
“Unfortunately.” Kyungsoo replies, voice echoing. Judging by the hollow thuds, and metallic scraping, it’s quite obvious that the pint-sized humanoid is neck deep in the ship’s engine.
“You love me.” Chanyeol says airily, “How about our resident dick joke? Baekhyun, buddy, you alive in there?”
“I’m here.” Baekhyun replies, monotone. He traces the edge of his Lightsaber along the floor of the command deck, watching idly as the metal curls as if repulsed under the heat of his blade.
“Excellent. I love a good ol’ no casualty mission.” Baekhyun can see the EXODUS orbiting the perimeter of the ship, searching for a port to anchor onto for the journey back to Ryloth. “Did we figure out what their deal is?”
“Echs.” Kyungsoo grunts, cursing as he drops some sort of equipment into the depths of the engine. “They’re dead, but we got the coordinates to their base.”
“Oh!” Chanyeol cries out with glee, “So, Cap, where are we headed.”
“Hoth.” Kyungsoo replies, “There’s an old Rebel base there, it’s been out of commission for hundreds of years but I’m guessing the foundations were salvageable.”
Hoth. Baekhyun curses himself for not realizing sooner, the perpetual cold chilling Jongdae’s bones to an ache, the relentless dripping of pipes. There aren’t a lot of planets within the Outer Rim with that kind of climate. It should have been a simple process of elimination, but Baekhyun was too blind to see the evidence in front of him.
He digs his blade deeper within the floor, light disappearing beneath the layers of rapidly soldering metal.
“You found that connection port, yet?” Kyungsoo’s voice buzzes through the intercom once more.
“Just about.” Chanyeol grunts in exertion, the sound of cables unravelling filling the silence between groans of an almost sexual timbre.
“Quit your moaning before I come down there and give you something to moan about.” Kyungsoo hisses into his mouthpiece.
“Is that a promise?” Chanyeol replies with a breathy laugh, magnetized anchor resonating a dull thud as it attaches to the Echs’ ship.
“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” The captain replies haughtily, “And Baekhyun, clean up your mess, will you? We’re expecting visitors and a mound of corpses isn’t the most welcoming of interior decoration.”
Kyungsoo and Chanyeol continue to bicker, as they always do, as Baekhyun drags body after body to the ship’s incinerator. The last cadaver hits the pile with an unsettling squelch; blood oozing from its wounds.
Tracing his way back towards the cockpit, he digs his Lightsaber into the walls, prolonging the feel of power coursing through his veins as he continues to maim and destroy.
Hoth. Baekhyun has found Jongdae, finally.
Vengeance will be his.
-------
“I’m not saying you're an awful pilot,” Chanyeol begins, looking downright nauseous as the ship lands clumsily on Ryloth’s surface, “But you've definitely had smoother runs.”
“You try flying this ungodly contraption,” Kyungsoo hisses, “It's a lot harder than it looks.”
“You’re being awfully quiet over there, Jedi.” Chanyeol pokes him in the arm none too softly. Baekhyun barely hides a grimace at his former title. “A Credit for your thoughts?”
“We’re hot on the trail of his little boyfriend.” Kyungsoo says flippantly. “He's probably immersed in some sort of dick sucking fantasy.”
Chanyeol retracts his hand, recoiling in disgust.
“Keep it in your pants.” He mutters, wiping the appendage against his shirt.
A flash of green and blue burn beneath Baekhyun’s eyelids. A twin presence he has not felt since--
“Alright!” Kyungsoo exclaims, silencing the engine, “We'll rest and regroup, upgrade the EXODUS and then commence Operation: Baekhyun Gets Laid.”
“You two go on ahead.” Baekhyun says, “I’ll check for salvageable parts.”
“But you don't know anything about--” Chanyeol’s sentence is effectively cut off by a combination of Kyungsoo’s threatening glare and the elbow which finds purchase between two of his ribs. Rubbing the injury with a pained grimace, the bounty hunter concedes. “I mean, yeah sure, do your thing.”
“We’ll be inside with Xiumin if you need us.” Kyungsoo says, dragging Chanyeol from the ship by his ear.
Baekhyun welcomes the silence.
Sehun and Jongin are on Ryloth, he can feel the purity of their auras radiating through the Force. He bristles at the contact, tentative tendrils of communication reaching out to him, calling him forth.
He blocks them out, turning his focus on Jongdae instead. Baekhyun can barely feel his beloved at the edges of his consciousness, almost as if Jongdae has attempted to break contact, their former bond the only thing connecting them still.
The golden glimmer and sheer cold he has come to associate with Jongdae’s presence within the Force filters slowly, Baekhyun slipping through the cracks in Jongdae’s defenses.
Jongdae, he calls out, Can you hear me?
Always. Jongdae replies, the phantom touch of cool hands slide along Baekhyun’s neck.
I’ve found you. I'll be with you soon. He says as Jongdae’s form materializes in front of him, corporeal and pliant to his touch. The distance between them no longer seems so far; Baekhyun spills his desperation and longing, dragging Jongdae into a messy kiss.
They’ve been gentle lovers for countless years, a close friendship made something more not through the path of overwhelming lust or desire, but from a deeper yearning from their very souls for companionship, intimacy. Jongdae and Baekhyun are undoubtedly soul mates, bonded with every fibre of their beings.
Attraction burns beneath Baekhyun’s fingertips, the intense urge to own, claim, dominate consuming him as he bites marks into the skin of Jongdae’s neck. Fingertips claw along his shoulder blades, Jongdae’s breathy cries spur the lust coursing through Baekhyun’s system.
It has been far too long since Baekhyun has held Jongdae in his arms; the real Jongdae, flesh and blood and not an apparition of the Force. Red melts into gold, his vision blurring in rage as he envisions the masked faces of the men who took Jongdae from him, denied Baekhyun the unadulterated pleasure of Jongdae’s warm skin against his own.
Fear emanates from Jongdae in waves, his lover shocked still in crippling terror; Baekhyun blinks, blood red smears dragging across his vision and Jongdae is gone-- wrenched from his hold as the connection tears, his presence vanishing in an instant.
Baekhyun can feel Jongdae’s anguish, something, someone has torn them apart once more. He flings his clenched fist into the metal walls of the Echs’ vessel, Lightsaber lying forgotten on his belt, bones shattering upon impact.
Not once, but twice, have these men pulled Jongdae from him in the dead of night.
It will not happen a third time.
Anger builds within him as he prepares the EXODUS for take off, keying in the coordinates for the ice planet Hoth.
Baekhyun has destroyed countless members of Echs, and he will destroy more. He will not rest until each one of them lies dead, submerged in puddles of their own blood.
He hopes they will beg as he kills them, plead for mercy as he pushes his blade through flesh. He wants to hear their anguished cries as he ignores them, he longs to see their lifeless eyes, faces twisted in agony.
He will have his vengeance.
Across the galaxy, the voices of the dead cry out.
The new order of the Sith has begun.
PART TWO