Whisper Your Weakness

Angel_mine: Is it totally wrong of me that I'm thrilled I made you cry? ;) And I love the Wedge/Luke friendship as well. Glad you're liking it so far!

Abby: Glad you like the plot twists so far. And *sigh* I knew I didn't really fool anyone with dead Luke. One of these days, I'm really going to write a story where he does kick the bucket, just to show everyone that I can...

Dan: Thank you so much for reading!

DMS: Aw, you make me blush! Glad you found your way to SSB!

Anywho, here is the next part. As you all well know by now, Luke is alive. (Duh!) Unfortunately, he's in really deep poo-doo! (evil grin) The torture begins so the squeamish should be aware...


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Chapter Eighteen

It was dark when he opened his eyes; so dark that at first, he wasn’t sure if he had really opened his eyes or if he had only dreamed it. The slow, pounding ache that began thrumming through his skull let him know that he was truly awake. Luke groaned and tried to rise to a sitting position, only to find himself stopped short by restraints that held his arms over his head.


Startled, Luke instinctively tried to twist his head around to see what was holding his wrists, and discovered that he couldn’t move his legs either. For a heartbeat, Luke panicked, unable to remember how he’d gotten to wherever he was and abruptly aware that he could not touch the Force. Pushing the fear away, Luke closed his eyes again and ran through a calming technique, something that helped even without the Force.


Opening his eyes once more, he waited for them to adjust to the darkness and realized that he could see a little. He was in a small, windowless room, lying on a cot of some kind, his wrists and ankles bound by some kind of manacles attached to the bed. There didn’t seem to be any other furniture in the room as far as he could tell. The small bit of illumination came from a sliver of light under the door that cast enough of a glow for Luke to barely make out his surroundings.


Looking up towards the ceiling, Luke saw a blinking red light up in one corner. With a gasp, his eyes darted around the room, noting one of those lights in all four corners and in one huge rush, he remembered what had happened.


“Berdin,” he muttered in disgust.


A brilliant flood of light suddenly poured into the room, causing Luke to let out a yelp of protest and slam his eyelids back shut. He twisted his head away from the light as much as he could, trying to protect his too-sensitive eyes. His whole body stiffened as a low chuckle sounded from the opposite corner of the room.


“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t be grateful for my hospitality.”


Luke turned his head in the direction of the voice, still having to squint his eyes a little as they slowly adjusted to the amount of light in the room. Viktor Berdin was sitting in a chair in the corner, staring at his captive with evil intent written all over his features.


“Surprisingly enough, no, I’m not exactly thrilled to be here,” Luke said in an even tone, determined not to let this madman get to him. Whatever he had planned, Luke would deal with it. He’d been through worse.


Viktor stood up and slowly walked over to the edge of Luke’s bed, gazing down at his prisoner with a gloating expression of superiority. Luke maintained his blank look.


“Tell me, Master Jedi,” the doctor sneered, “how does it feel to be normal like the rest of us? Do you miss your precious Force? Is it almost like coming off spice, being without it?”


“I lived the first eighteen years of my life without the Force, Berdin. I appreciate everything it’s done for me, but I don’t need it.”


“We’ll just see if you continue to have that attitude after the game has begun, Skywalker,” Viktor said with a nasty smile.


“What game?” Luke asked before he could stop himself.


“Ah, are you curious? We’re going to play a game, you and I. I’m going to break you, body, mind and spirit, Jedi. By the time I am finished with you, you’ll be begging me to kill you,” Viktor said, his voice growing harsher with anger at every word he spoke.


“That doesn’t sound like a very fun game to me. In fact, I don’t see where the game part comes in at all,” Luke said sardonically.


“The game part comes in as we see exactly how long you can hold out, Jedi. Without your Force to insulate you, I’d bet that it’s probably less than a week.”


“It will probably take less than a week for my family and friends to find me. Do you really think they’re not going to be looking?” Luke asked. Instinctively, he tried to reach out to Mara over their bond, not allowing his frustration to show to the doctor when he met a blank wall.


Viktor’s laughter sent a chill up Luke’s spine.


“I know they’re not going to be looking for you, Jedi. They’ve been far too busy…” he paused, the evil leer on his face growing more intense, as did the sick feeling in the pit of Luke’s stomach. “…planning your funeral.”


“My…my what?” Luke stammered, unable to hide his shock this time.


“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess you’ve been otherwise occupied and haven’t heard,” Viktor said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. With a flourish, Viktor pulled a datapad out of his jacket. Ignoring Luke for the moment, he tapped in a few commands. He turned it around so that Luke could see a vid playing, taking obvious care to turn the volume up so that his captive wouldn’t miss a thing.


Luke watched and listened in growing horror. The vid showed a mass of people standing in front of the Grand Auditorium of the New Republic Senate building. An announcer was speaking in solemn tones.


“The crowds outside the Auditorium have waited in vain for the opportunity to see part of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker’s memorial service. The crush is simply too great for most of these beings to have a hope of getting inside and they will have to wait for the time when the Jedi’s body will be lying in state to get their one last look at the galaxy’s hero. Our holocams were not allowed in for the private family service, but we were able to get inside for the public eulogies.”


The voice continued speaking, but Luke heard nothing more of what it said. His attention was riveted on the images of his sister, his brother-in-law, his niece and nephews; the grief and heartache so visible on their faces was gut-wrenching. Luke was no longer concerned about Viktor seeing his reactions to his predicament as a helpless sound of anguish came from his lips when the holocams passed over Mara Jade’s frozen form.


No indication of her pain was evident on her face, but Luke knew her so well. He could read the hurt in every line of her figure. His heart and his very soul cried out at being able to see her and yet not being able to reach her over their bond. Luke flinched in revulsion as the holocam panned over a silver casket…a casket with a body that looked exactly like himself.


The announcer had begun to drone on about the Jedi Master’s humble beginnings, saying something about a simple life as a farmer on an outer rim world and Luke could bear to see or hear no more.


“Turn it off,” he growled in a low voice. Viktor ignored him, instead waving the datapad closer to Luke’s face.


Luke jerked against his restraints and shouted angrily, “Turn it off! Turn it off, damn you!”


Viktor laughed in cruel delight his prisoner’s torment as he pulled the datapad away and switched it off at last. The gleam of triumph in his eyes sickened Luke and he couldn’t repress a shudder as Viktor leaned over him to whisper gleefully.


“And so the game begins.”


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Viktor didn’t return to the small room that was Luke’s cell for three days. A droid came in twice a day and released him from the manacles so that he could eat - nothing but ration bars, which he hated - and relieve himself in the toilet that was in one corner of the room. Luke’s aching bladder quickly overcame any sense of shyness he felt, although he still despised having to take care of such a personal matter out in the open. He wondered if Viktor had forgotten about him, then dismissed that thought almost immediately.


No, Berdin’s anger ran deep and Luke couldn’t help the frisson of fear that ran through him as he tried to anticipate what Viktor was planning. More likely, this was part of ‘the game’ that his captor was playing with him. He tried to keep his mind occupied by reviewing lightsaber battle techniques in his head; he mentally broke down and then re-assembled the hyperdrive in his X-wing; he even went back so far as to remember the wiring diagrams of the moisture vaporators he’d rebuilt on his uncle’s farm. He lost track of how many times he recited the Jedi Code, both forwards and backwards.


The one thing he tried not to do too often was think of Mara and Leia and Han. That simply hurt too much, especially thoughts of his fiancée. He’d spent the first several hours thinking of her, recalling every curve of her face, the exact tint of her hair, that wickedly intelligent gleam in her eyes. But he'd had to stop as the pain had swelled up in his heart so intensely that it threatened to choke him. Imagining the agony that his sister and brother-in-law must be enduring had proven to be too heartbreaking, as well.


He worried over Syal Antilles, wondering if she had managed to escape safely. So far the only person he had seen was Berdin himself, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others working with him. Luke hoped that Viktor had been lying when he’d mentioned others, but he had no way of knowing for certain. He was also concerned about Wedge. His friend had been waiting alone outside that abandoned factory. If there were others working with Berdin, had they gotten to Syal’s father as well?


When he wasn’t brooding over the well-being of his friends and family, Luke’s thoughts inevitably turned to why Viktor was doing this and trying not to imagine what terrible things he might have in store for him. He didn’t want to dwell on those imaginings, but it was difficult to keep it out of his mind considering the predicament he was in. Luke kept picturing that coffin from the datapad vid in his mind, seeing that lifeless form that had his own face.


The dead man in the coffin had to be a clone, but Luke couldn’t figure out how Berdin had gotten his hands on a clone. The blood sample the doctor had taken from him at Dr. Mondahl’s office couldn’t have given him enough time to grow a new clone, could it? Perhaps Joruus C’Boath had created more than one and Berdin had obtained it somehow after all this time? He gave a small sigh, momentarily giving up on trying to puzzle it out.


Luke Skywalker had grown used to his life being somewhat intense and often strange, but nothing had ever creeped him out more than seeing footage of his own funeral. Particularly once he’d realized that Berdin had even dressed the clone in Luke’s own clothing. When he’d first noticed that he was wearing just a plain undershirt and loose sleep pants, Luke had wondered what had become of his Jedi blacks. Then he’d remembered the figure that his family and friends were mistakenly mourning, and he had involuntarily shuddered.


The Jedi Master didn't want to give in to the mind games that Viktor was playing, but he would have been lying to himself if he didn't admit the prospect that there was likely no search ongoing frightened him fiercely. Luke was just pondering how long Viktor was going to make him lie here and wait when the door opened and Berdin stepped through it, wearing that sneer that made Luke want to strike him…hard.


“Enjoying your stay, Skywalker?”


Luke refused to answer, carefully schooling his expression into a calm façade, determined not to play Berdin’s game with him. The droid that brought Luke’s meals trundled in behind Viktor. Luke eyed it warily as it unlatched the manacles, flicking his gaze over at Viktor when his hands and feet were free. The blaster stared him in the face again. Luke sat up very slowly, wondering what exactly Viktor had in store for him.


“Stand up,” Viktor ordered as he gestured with the blaster.


Luke carefully got to his feet, swaying just a little at the lightheaded feeling he got after having been horizontal for so long. He tried not to let Viktor see this bit of weakness, but he had a sinking feeling that what was about to happen would be a lot worse.


“Put these on,” Viktor said and tossed him a pair of cuffs with a chain about a half-meter long linking them. Silently, Luke did as he commanded, raising his head to give Viktor a quiet look of defiance once he had done so.


Viktor again gestured with the blaster, indicating that Luke move over to one wall of the tiny cell. Cautiously, Luke moved forward, but before he had taken three steps, Viktor shoved the blaster forcefully between his shoulder blades and wrapped his free hand around the Jedi’s throat. Luke gasped in shock and his startled gaze flew to Viktor’s face, now only centimeters from his own.


“Now the real fun begins,” Berdin whispered. And then he licked Luke’s ear.


Luke was disgusted and alarmed at once and it was all he could do not to gag in Viktor’s face. He jerked his head away as far as he could – not daring to move any more than that as he was very much aware of the blaster still jammed into his back - and was rewarded with a slight squeeze from Viktor’s hand on his throat, just enough to make him choke a little.


“Rule number one. The more you resist me, the more I’m going to hurt you. Now that would be just fine by me if that’s the way you want to play it.”


“You said-” Luke began in a strangled voice. He was unable to continue until Viktor eased the grip on his throat slightly. “You said this was a game. It’s not very fair if I don’t get to fight back.”


“That’s the good thing about being the inventor of the game. I get to make the rules,” Viktor taunted. “You have to take whatever I decide to dish out, Jedi. The point of the game is to see how long you can hold out without losing your mind.” He paused and Luke had to hold back another swell of disgust at the sheer hatred in Berdin’s eyes. “Now, do you understand rule number one?”


Luke barely nodded his head. Abruptly, he was blindsided as Viktor’s forearm smashed into his face. A grunt of pain escaped Luke as his head jerked backwards, and he could feel the blaster muzzle digging into the skin of his back.


“When I ask a question, you answer. Understand?”


Luke glared at him hotly, but didn’t see the value in defying him and getting hit again. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.


“Good, I’m glad that you do, because there are no other rules,” Viktor said and the vicious gleam in his eyes made a chill run down Luke’s spine.


Releasing his grip on Luke’s throat, Viktor shoved him forward towards the wall. Luke stumbled a couple of steps and stood there hesitantly, wondering what his tormentor had planned.


“Raise your arms.”


Luke obeyed silently, cursing inwardly as his mind rapidly went through useless plans for escape or attacking Berdin. Knowing that the blaster was still trained steadily on him, and that he was without the Force, Luke understood there was little he could do. He could only hope to hold out under whatever torture Viktor doled out and pray that somehow Mara and Leia and Han would realize the man they had just memorialized was an imposter.


Viktor grasped the chain between Luke’s cuffs with his free hand and pulled upwards, causing Luke to go up on his tiptoes slightly. Luke looked up and watched as Berdin slid one link of the chain over a hook that was hanging from the ceiling. As he stepped away, Luke was left stretched just short of the point of discomfort but was able to balance on the balls of his feet.


When he felt Berdin yank the back of his shirt upwards and shove it over the top of his head, Luke tensed, knowing what was coming now. So, it would be a beating, probably with a power-lash of some kind. Luke mentally braced himself, trying to prepare for that first blow. He closed his eyes and whispered inside his head, A Jedi does not know pain, a Jedi does not know pain, over and over again.


There was a sudden crackling of electricity from behind him and Luke tried to fight down the panic rising in his gut, the noise bringing back unpleasant memories of his confrontation with Palpatine aboard the second Death Star. Force, don’t think about that right now, Luke! Keep your focus!


He had thought himself prepared at least a little for that first blow, but when it came, it still sent waves of shocked agony through his body. The strike of the whip itself was horrible enough, but then the tip of the weapon gave him a powerful electric charge as it contacted his skin. Managing somehow not to cry out - he would NOT give Viktor that satisfaction - Luke squeezed his eyes closed against the pain, his whole frame shaking with the effort.


At first, the blows came slowly, spaced out enough to give Luke a chance to catch his breath in between strikes. Muffled little grunts and groans escaped him, but Luke still refused to scream, although it was becoming increasingly difficult. Fire raced over his back and down his legs, burning with an intensity unlike anything he’d ever known. Sweat seeped into the welts left by the power-lash, only adding to his torment. The cuffs holding him up began to cut into the skin of his wrists as he was less able to support his own weight the longer the ordeal went on.


It’s just pain, it means nothing, push it away, Luke, push it away! But then the blows began to come ever more rapidly, giving him no opportunity to regain his equilibrium, and Luke slowly realized that Viktor wanted the scream that his victim was denying him…and the bastard was not going to stop until he got it.


The rebel spirit that had never truly disappeared within Luke Skywalker wanted nothing more than to refuse to give in to Viktor’s cruelty, but the choice was quickly slipping out of his control. The intensity of the agony building within him was overwhelming, burning in his belly and desperate to find an outlet. Finally, Luke could contain it not one second longer and the anguished scream that erupted from his throat felt as though it had been ripped from him by force.


Immediately, the assault on his weary body ceased and Luke hung limply from the cuffs, his breathing ragged and harsh as he tried unsuccessfully to will the pain away. Behind him, Viktor laughed with callous delight, but Luke was beyond caring at the moment.


He didn’t even have the strength to lift his head as Viktor supported his weight with one arm wrapped around Luke’s back, although he flinched at the touch against the fresh wounds there. He would have fallen straight to the floor if Viktor hadn’t caught him as the cuffs were undone.


Roughly, Viktor dragged Luke over to the cot and dumped him onto it, right onto his back. Luke couldn’t help the cry that slipped past his lips at the jolt of pain that rolled through him.


Not even bothering to reattach the manacles, Viktor started to leave the room. Before he did, he turned and said nastily, “You play the game well, Skywalker. But I’m going to win. I always do.”


Luke opened his eyes and found the strength to at least glare at his captor. “Not this time,” he swore softly.


Viktor laughed again, a sound that Luke knew he would be hearing in his nightmares, and stepped out of the room, leaving the Jedi alone once more.


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