Several cold minutes passed before he was able to do so. His mind was numb, but once he had control of the saber, it sliced cleanly enough through the rawhide that bound his wrists and feet. Moments later he wielded it carefully, performing a similar operation on the unconscious ice-woman. Once freed, he gathered her cold form against his, seeking to warm it. He regretted he had no extra clothing to gallantly wrap about her, but regretted even more the loss of her mysterious 'Protector'. Obviously, it guarded them no longer. Perhaps she had to be conscious to employ it. Shivering violently, he sought out the brilliant insect that hovered near the head of its hive.

"N-Now w-what?"

The leader separated from the other drones to hang before him, a blue diamond glittering amidst a canopy of living stars. "Are you prepared to die?"

Luke frowned. He had only just begun to believe they might live and now the creature wanted to know if he was prepared for death? He shivered again as what little hope he had mustered drained away in defeat. "If I must. B-But why….?"

"It is the only way you can live."

The lightsaber murmured in the snow beside him. Above, the newly risen moon shone hard and cold. He brushed a lock of ebon hair away from the gash on the Khr'shaia's face and sighed as exhaustion tickled the edge of his perceptions. "I'm…I'm sorry. I don't understand."

The creature alighted on the woman's gun-metal grey shoulder and projected gently, "When first we touched you, did you feel the cold?"

Luke remembered the shared warmth. "No," he said,

"Close proximity to the fire that flows in our veins will temporarily elevate your body's temperature, but our venom can empower you so that you will be able to carry your companion to shelter." The creature paused, and for the first time Luke realized he was speaking to a group intelligence. "It may also bring death -or worse- a living death from which there can be no escape."

Luke passed a cold hand over his eyes and started to reply, but the Khr'schlct stopped him. "Do not speak, unless it be to give your consent. Time is short. Our purpose ~as given to us by the Inspire~ is to bring visions to his people. We are used by the shamans to Dream-tread. If they are worthy, it is of benefit. If they are not, they do not return from the land of shadows. It claims them. Though they do not die, death it is still. You are strong in the Inspirer, still…"

The names were different, but suddenly Luke understood the Force and the Inspirer were one. Khr'shaia was a fellow Jedi, the weapon she carried a variation of the lightsaber. She had brought him here for reasons as yet unclear, but had been thwarted in her purpose by his lack of memory. He now recalled Hoth, though he was sure he had left it behind long before. Still, it mattered little. He was here now and he couldn't turn his back on her, no matter how underhanded her methods.

"What d-do I have to do?"

The sapphire bugs circled his blond head. "You understand the risk?" There was real fear in its tone.

"If I refuse to help, then I freeze and die for nothing. If I agree, I may still die, but at least I tried."

Black eyes fixed his and he felt the creature's approval. Suddenly, the other Khr'schlcts moved to form a loose circle about him, humming softly as their spokesman descended to his benumbed foot. "I will puncture the skin here, farthest from your heart. That way you may have enough time to reach the cavern beyond the ice shelf" ~as it spoke a vision formed in Luke's mind and he knew he could find the cave~ "before the madness begins. Do not hesitate or all will be lost."

The young Jedi squared his shaking shoulders and assured the intelligent insect, "I won't. Now, when will you-"

Before the words could clear his trembling lips, he felt a sharp prick near his ankle bone. Curiously, no visions exploded, no brilliant lights flashed through his head. Instead a steady warmth coursed through his veins like the aftermath of a slug of Corellian ale, rousing his sluggish heart. Renewed strength and vigor poured through him and he easily lifted the still form of his companion. Tossing her across his shoulders, Luke struck out for the cavern ,following the mental map the kindly Khr'schlct had drawn him.

He turned back once to thank the shimmering creature and its brothers, but they had already taken to the cold night air, winging their way back toward the Eye of the Inspirer and the rough stone altar they called home.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Somehow, hours later, they made it to the cave. Luke's head was throbbing and his senses reeling as he lay the recently awakened Khr'shaia on the cold stone floor. He knelt beside her, gasping for breath, feeling fire flicker at the edge of his senses. The small cave was adequately lit by a natural skylight that opened to the risen moon, but he could only see the dark shadows that inhabited its heart…tenebrous shadows that seemed to grow ever more substantial as they closed about him whispering his name.

"Luke, Luke…come with me…. It is your~"

"Luke? Luke, can you hear me?"

He raised his forehead from the cooling stones and felt sweat slide from the darkened ends of his blond hair down his neck. A woman was speaking. He looked at her. She had dark hair… Shouldn't it have been in braids…?

"Leia?"

"No," the woman answered, her voice tight with concern. Or was it fear? "It is Khr'shaia. Luke, why ever did you bring me here?"

He lifted his head to meet her gaze, trying valiantly to ignore the bright flames that almost blinded him. Flames that sprang from the Krh'schlcts venom. "You," he stopped to correct himself, "we were freezing. It's warm here. Now, at least, you won't die." He closed his eyes but the fire would not be quenched.

The woman wasn't listening. She shut her eyes and then a moment later opened them wide. Rising, she began to pace about the minimal space like a caged Womprat. "There are things worse than death, Luke, much worse. If she should come…."

He shuddered as exquisite pain wracked his aching form. The dark shadows watched, patiently, expectantly. If he surrendered and fell unconscious, they would have him. To delay the inevitable, he forced himself to speak, asking, "She? Who is she?"

"Ahl'var, my teacher. Oh, Luke, you don't know…" She paused as she looked at him for the first time, really looked, and saw how ill he was. His face was flushed and a fine red rash covered the exposed areas of his pale skin. Remorseful, she fell to her knees beside him and gently laid her hand on his arm. Seconds later she pulled away as though singed. "By the Inspirer, Luke, what is wrong?"

He opened his mouth to speak but a spasm rocked his thin frame and he fell back to the cave floor with a short groan. She ran her hands efficiently along his body, seeking the source of this sudden sickness, and gasped when she saw the tell-tale bite branded into his tender swollen flesh. Like silver-fish, her hands flew to her mouth and she pulled back, horrified. At first she could find no words, but then she managed to choke out, "L-Luke, why?" When he failed to respond, she shook him and shouted, as tears streamed from her pitch-black eyes, "Luke, you're going to die!"

Blue eyes opened, but his vision looked far beyond her, and in them she saw ~if not surrender~ than acquiescence at the least. "It was my choice," he said softly, shuddering again as a strong wave of heat swept over him. "Whatever it was you brought me here for, I couldn't just let you die before… we… had…. Before I had…." He coughed spasmodically and pitched to the side. Then his form went rigid. Moments later he lay motionless, free at least of the physical pain his decision had engendered.

Silence reigned for a moment, and then a voice cool as the evening air spoke from the cavern's entrance. "So this is your champion?" it asked.

Khr'shaia slowly raised her head and met the contemptuous stare. Luke's nightmare could be no worse than her own. She stood and greeted the one who had betrayed her.

"Mother."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Luke recognized the landscape of his dreams.

He was once again in the lightless cave, the one he had first awakened in. He could see the serrated maw of stalactites and stalagmites, and recognized the nebulous shadow that flitted from one dark recess to another. He felt for the lightsaber at his waist but his hand came away empty. Startled, he looked down only to find he was straddling his own insentient form and the solid, tangible support of his Jedi weapon was firmly attached to the belt at its waist. Objectively, he studied the inanimate shell as though it belonged to another. Its pale skin was chalky and peppered with a nettled rash. The once bright blond hair was matted and dull, and lay in thick brown clumps against a forehead covered by a fine sheen of perspiration.

It looked like a corpse.

Fascinated, he bent to touch the scarred face, but stopped in mid-gesture, inexorably drawn by the drama unfolding not two meters away from him. Two women, alike enough to be sisters if not twins, faced each other, radiating power. The one he knew to be Khr'shaia. The other…. Instinctively he knew she was much the same, but infinitely older and far more dangerous. She stood illumined by a single beam of moonlight that filtered through the skylight overhead, her silvered hair glinting in the ghostly light. Her face was fine boned and regal, her manner suggestive of breeding and easy power. A diaphanous gown floated on a phantom breeze, scintillating so that she appeared to hover rather than to rest on the slate-grey floor.

His dark companion faced her, feet planted firmly, head held high. But he could see her soul was shaking. Momentarily she gathered herself to speak, wine-red lips parting to utter the word -not as an endearment, but merely in recognition of an unavoidable blood-tie, "Mother."

Before Luke could react to that revelation, the other woman moved, soft fabric whispering as she drew closer. He shivered as he watched the army of black shapes that accompanied her. " Little one," she whispered, her own dark lips barely moving, "what it is brings you back to me?"

The younger woman hesitated and then turned to look longingly at the still form of the human who had foolishly been her hope. The one she had planned to use. The one she had hoped would be strong enough to defeat this monster who had given her life. She sighed and then returned disconsolate eyes to the other woman's proud face. "You have named it. You did so, years ago, before ever I left this place."

The woman drew closer so her breath stirred the fine hairs on Khr'shaia's forehead. Her black eyes shone like polished onyx. "It is your destiny…"

Luke stepped away from the solid form that was his anchor, feeling the slender chord that stretched between them grow narrow and taut. He reached out to touch her and his hand passed straight through the ebon swells of her hair and her broad shoulders, startling him. Unnerved, he examined his hands and then glanced up toward the ominous figure that confronted his companion only to find her watching him.

Deep-blue flames kindled in the fathomless depths of her gaze and she raised her head until she looked straight into his eyes. When she had his attention, she repeated her prophecy. "It is your destiny."

His phantom mouth fell open and he screamed, "No!", but she only laughed, and the sound of her laughter battered him like the Force-driven machinery Vader had tossed at him on Bespin. It struck him and twisted him around until he was spiraling out of control, and as it did images of his former life flashed past as though he were traveling at light-speed. Dark and light, past and future broke apart and coalesced until all of the threads of his life were held in one black -gloved hand that was clenched and raised above him as he huddled, miserable, clinging frantically to the fragile gantry that bisected the open center of the cloud city of Bespin. He huddled there, terrified, listening to words he could not believe, could not accept, and yet had known ~had always known~ were true.

"I am your father. Join me and together we can end this bloody conflict. You can defeat the Emperor…he has foreseen it."

And this time, broken, envenomed, defeated, his answer was yes. He reached out and clasped the proffered hand and stared into the jaded eyes behind the mask. They were his own. He had not failed the test on murky Dagobah…. Yoda had wished him to remain blind to his inheritance. Ben had hidden it from him. It had all been lies. He had been lied to. Used. Betrayed.

Manipulated.

Anger grew in him, anger such as he had never known, overwhelming any remembrance of the love he had had for the old hermit who had discovered him or the other one who had begun his training. They had simply wanted to further their own ends with no thought of his calling, his destiny. The hand that gripped his now was flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, and that kinship awakened in him a realm of possibilities. The future opened before him, a future of shared vision in which he and Vader ruled justly together as father and son, meting out justice; rewarding those who obeyed and destroying any who challenged the new order of the galaxy.

He felt the seductive power of the dark side pour through the link and shifted to add the strength of his other hand to the union. But that hand was gone. Instead a charred stump stood in its place, and as he stared at the truncated limb, he lost his balance and teetered on the edge of the metal catwalk. Vader stared at him, seemingly expressionless behind the protection of his black mask. Fury filled him. This man, this creature, had taken it from him and taken as well his fragile hold on sanity. Suddenly all of the raw power that was his within the Force blasted out in rage and despair, and the formidable form of the last Dark Lord of the Sith shriveled until it was nothing more than an empty shell, a dry husk that lay smoking on the silver-grey grating. Luke stood, his arms flung wide and opened himself to the vast army of black shadows that bore witness to the event and waited for them to claim him as one of their own. Sweetly seductive, they promised power if he would only embrace them of his own free will. Thus empowered, he would be able to destroy the Emperor and force the galaxy accept his rule. Palpatine had foreseen it. Vader had desired it. Luke stared at the black shadows that danced about him and felt the intensity of their combined glee raise the hair on his head, and then he noticed -within the dark teeming ranks- one small shining face. The face of a young woman, upturned, streaked with tears.

"It is my destiny," she whispered, bowing to the foreboding shape that towered over her, "blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh. I am yours."

And suddenly from somewhere deep inside a quiet voice whispered forgotten words, stirring a powerful force within the young man's soul and he gasped, as though tasting fresh air after hours submerged. He shook his head and opened his eyes, and saw that the black shadows which surrounded him were only that, pale and powerless phantoms, raging for their own lack of conscience, seeking to drown the light of one more soul. Without warning, he laughed, and the sound of that laughter drove the demons away. They scattered as he awakened, and fell back into the shadows until nothing remained but his astral self and the silver-grey woman. She met his eyes and he smiled, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. Self-conscious, he spoke only one word, "Why?"

Khr'shaia approached him. He could see her clearly now and she was older, her hair streaked with silver and her eyes weary and world-wise. She was truly the mirror-image of the dark woman she had knelt before. Ahl'var, her teacher, had vanished with the other demons she had conjured. She faced him and laid a cool hand alongside his cheek. "Now do you understand?"

He touched her hand with his own and was amazed he could feel it. He glanced to the side and saw that his physical form lay precisely where it had been before.

"It is true, you dream still. I had not meant it to be this way. You are Dream-treading." She paused and held his blue eyes with her dark ones, "It may yet prove fatal."

Luke shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. "No, I don't think so. I don't think my 'destiny' is to die here."

She pulled her hand away and then stepped back, shaking her dark locks. Her eyes were narrowed and about their edges, fine willowy lines danced. "Still, if you die here," she indicated the cave where his prone form lay, "you will die. This is real."

He nodded his understanding and then shifted to see her better. She was beautiful, but sad. "You haven't answered my question. Why did you do this?"

Khr'shaia drew a breath and then released it, meeting his bright gaze. "Many years ago ~thousands of your years~ what you have witnessed here actually took place. My mother was a powerful Jevda ~or Jedi~ as you say. I was her apprentice, but as I grew more powerful she became filled with jealousy and rage. Instead of embracing me as her successor, she drew closer to the dark side, gathering more and more power until I became so frightened, I ran away." She hugged herself and crossed to stare at Luke's pale figure, seeing another. "I fled to the town and chose to live there, knowing she would finally follow and finding me, destroy me. But that was not her plan. Nothing so simple would satisfy her dark wrath. Instead she sent her evil emissaries and told them to twist with fear the lives of any I had touched. To destroy any who had the smallest trace of the Inspirer's touch…."

Luke whispered, "Any who might have been able to wield the Force as a weapon against her… She left you alone."

"Yes. She did not want me destroyed, but cowed, defeated, without hope or companions. She tortured and killed the man I loved before my very eyes, finally driving me from my adopted home and back to her." Khr'shaia met his eyes and breathed softly, "I succumbed long ago."

"So you never really needed my help?"

She smiled ruefully. "No, you needed mine. Do you not remember this cave?"

Luke glanced about and shrugged, but even as he did, it suddenly fell into place. "This is the cave on Hoth! The one where the ice creature dragged me."

"Yes." She gestured to the moon-washed walls and the jagged ceiling overhead. "That and my tomb."

"Your what?" Luke started. "What do you mean?"

"This is where she taught me. This was my home. This is where my corporeal form is buried." Her dark eyes misted and she fell silent.

"But how did it become your tomb?"

"I believed her lies." She faced him again and spoke directly, "I believed this to be my destiny, that I would become an agent of evil, that I must surrender to the dark as she did…because she did. Finally one day I challenged her and with that dark power which was my inheritance…destroyed her."

Luke winced. He knew what was coming.

"Even as she died, so did I. And when ~after decades of evil~ my physical form died as well, I took the coward's way. I could not embrace the black hand that held me fast and so I fled again. I placed my consciousness within these walls, within the very heart of this cave-"

"And so when the creature brought me here-"

"I became aware of you. And after you left, your thoughts lingered, your goodness…. I had not felt such strength in eons and I could not forget you…." She fell silent as though embarrassed. "I had been alone a very long time. And then, when I sensed you were close to death and faced with the very same choice that damned me~"

"You brought me here." He could not imagine the power that would have taken, more than Obi Wan had possessed, more than Yoda. Perhaps a power as strong as the Emperor himself. He started to question her, but found that suddenly he could no longer put words together. Without warning, he swayed and the world he inhabited became cloudy, as though he looked at it from the bottom of a murky pond. Khr'shaia moved to his side to steady him. He had realized she too must have traveled here in spirit form, else, they could not have touched.

She replied. "I brought you here in one sense, to the land you walked in that form." She pointed to his pale body where it lay bathed in moonlight.. "Your corporeal self sleeps still, far away. Only that which belongs to the Inspirer treads this dream world. You must return now, be reunited soon, or it will be too late." She pinched his spirit flesh and held his eyes, her own suddenly intense. "But now, I must ask you once again, do you understand?"

He nodded and murmured weakly, "Yes. Vader's sins are his own. It is not my 'destiny' that matters, but the choices I make."

She smiled brightly, her weary face lit by a glow from deep within. "Yes. Yes. That is it. Then my choice, though in error, will not have been in vain. You will not walk the path I walk. You light will not be extinguished as was mine."

Luke stumbled back and she guided him to where his still form lay waiting. He blinked back tears and held onto her as she tried to move away. "Is there nothing …nothing I can do for you?"

She kissed him lightly and stepped away. "My burden is eased. That is enough. Now go."

With that she was gone and he felt his eyes growing heavy as pain began to seep into his consciousness, burning along the edges of his phantom limbs. Seconds later he opened his eyes and found he was lying on the cave floor, cold and stiff. Bracing himself with his one good hand, he sat up only to find that the dark cave on Hoth had been replaced by the homely chamber of the Eye of the Inspirer. The small childlike creature floated still within its clear bubble, the waves of the Force gently stirring its snow-white hair. Luke stood and instantly recognized that even though the land he walked was that of the spirits, still this chamber, this being, this meeting were as real as anything he had ever known.

The Eye stirred and looked at him through closed eyes. "You are free to go, Luke Skywalker."

Luke crossed to the globe and lay his hands upon its warm living surface. "It was you all along, wasn't it?", he asked, feeling the power that radiated from the tiny creature within. "You brought me here. Khr'shaia wasn't powerful enough, not even the Palpatine could have…. Who are you?"

The bright being's eyes opened and Luke had to turn away, so intense was the light that shone from them. "I am the Force. I am life and energy. I am all that binds and surrounds you, all that you are. And you are mine, Luke Skywalker. Not Vader's, not the Emperor's, not your own.

"You are mine."

Luke forced himself to look into the face of the light, and when he did, he found it was neither harsh nor terrifying, but warm and welcoming. Its healing energies strengthened him and bore him up and away from the dark pit Vader's words had plunged him into.

"You are the son of Anakin Skywalker, one of my finest knights. Thatis your heritage. Thereinlies your destiny."

The young man felt the words surround him and invade him, cleansing his soul. He drew a deep breath and then smiled, feeling much lighter and stronger. He nodded, "Yes. My destiny."

"Now, child, you must return. Your body weakens and it will not last long without your mind to bind the one to the other. Go back. Heed what you have learned…."

Luke felt the presence of the Eye pull away. It repelled him, but as he fell into the darkness that lay without the dream universe, he managed to ask, "But what of Khr'shaia? What will become of her?"

The voice receded but he heard its answer clear enough. "Her penance has been paid. She is with me."

The woman's husky voice spoke softly and her phantom hand brushed his cheek one last time.

"And with you."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leia sighed and laid her hand upon Luke's still chest. The readings had remained the same for days, nearly flat-lined. All that kept the young Jedi alive was the machine to which his battered form was attached. Earlier that morning the medical droid, Two-OneBee, had suggested the only 'humane' thing to do was to disconnect him -to let him go. Leia smiled ruefully as she recalled his mechanical sadness. The droid understood all too well the finality of his suggestion ~perhaps only as an artificial life-form could. Disconnection. Death. It was all the same. There was no coming back.

Threepio and Artoo-Detoo had listened to the prognosis and since that time had kept a silent watch, offering their mute support as she prepared to end the life of one of the two men who meant the most to her in all of the known galaxies. The other one, with his dark hair and smiling eyes, was lost, stolen from before her very eyes, but she had still had hope she would be able to find and rescue him. This one…. Well, the truth was before her. She couldn't pretend any longer, and yet, to admit the loss of this one would be like opening a wound in her soul that would never heal.

Somehow she knew if he died, a part of her would die as well.

"Princess Leia, if I might make a suggestion," Threepio, the golden protocol droid suggested from somewhere near her elbow, "Artoo and I can perform this task. You need not~"

"No!" she shouted, unexpectedly loud, then repeated more softly, "No. If it is to be done, it will be by my hand." She gathered her courage and reached for the red switch on the life-sustain unit, toggling it with a sigh, "Still, somehow, I never thought Luke would go like~"

A shrill whistle sounded from Threepio's barrel-like companion and Leia's hand jerked back , flipping the switch the other way. Her hand went to her chest and she took a deep calming breath. "Artoo, whatever do you mean doing that right now? I…"

"Mistress!" Threepio was shouting as well, "Mistress Leia!"

Leia pivoted and saw the lines on the monitor suddenly soar like an X-Wing in flight. Luke's motionless chest heaved once and then fell still again.

"What?" She held her breath, not daring to hope, but as she watched his chest rose once again. Soon, his breathing was regular; his vital signs stabilized somewhere below normal. Pale eyelids fluttered and even paler lips parted to emit a low moan.

Grabbing his remaining hand she drew it close to her face. "Luke", she whispered fervently, "Luke, can you hear me?"

Blue eyes opened and slowly focused on her. A moment later he smiled weakly.

"Luke," she repeated, tears welling in her dark brown eyes, "I thought we had lost you."

His head shifted and he turned to stare past her, sensing the continuing presence of the spirit of the silver-grey woman who had saved him.

He whispered. "Never again."