She's a Rebel [Star Wars | Luke Skywalker] *EDITING*

The Duel

My eyes dart around the corridors as I run through them, looking for the elevator, or even, a flight of stairs that will take me back to the carbon freezing chamber. I round several more corners, my desperation growing, sweat dripping down my face, and then I see it, at the far end of the corridor.

I run to it, punch the button to take me to the correct floor, and it starts with the same familiar jolt as before. I clutch my lightsaber in my fist, not knowing if Evan or Vader will be waiting for me on the other side of the elevator door once it comes to a stop.

After a thirty seconds or so, the elevator stops, and I run out, back into familiar territory. I run down the corridor, round the corner, and straight into the chamber, my boots clanging over the metal panels on the floor.

The carbonite pit is steaming as if it has just been used, and some of the pipes and hoses hanging from the ceiling have been severed, indicating a fight. But, much to my dismay, the chamber is completely deserted. Even the Ugnaughts have disappeared.

"Luke!" I call desperately, looking around the chamber, hoping for some sort of answer as to where he might be. He must've been able to hold Vader off. He's strong, confident. He can fight. The battle wouldn't have been over yet, or so I hope.

"Natalie!" a stern voice shouts from behind me. Evan.

I turn to find him stood on the walkway above me, his figure silhouetted against the steam and the deep blue light. He ignites his lightsaber, and I stalk towards the stairway warily, gripping the barrel of mine with sweaty hands.

"I'm not leaving without you!" his silhouette screams at me, his bright red blade a contrast to the glowing blue behind him. "You're coming with me! Even if I have to freeze you as Vader will Luke!"

I ignite both ends of my lightsaber, staring up at him, my brow furrowed in both concentration and anger as I raise my saber in front of my face. "You are mistaken," I say, trying to sound confident.

An agitated yell escapes his mouth, and he jumps down from the walkway, bringing his saber down on me, and I block his blade, pushing hard against him. I stare up at him as we become engaged in a fight, his face illuminated by the red blade of his lightsaber, his face contorted with aggression, his eyes filled with rage. I twist my blades from his, taking a step back.

"I'm not going to fight you, Evan," I tell him sternly. "You don't have to do this."

"Don't lie!" he snarls, lunging for me again, our blades clashing, sending loud echoes throughout the chamber. I push him back aggressively, straightening up.

"Listen to me!" I snap back at him. "You're my brother, my family. Stop this madness!"

"Is it madness, though? Is it?" he begins, cocking his head to one side, pointing his blade at me. He looks deranged, his eyes wide and dark, his mouth curling into a sinister grin that seems to stretch across his whole face. "Think about it, Natalie. If you strike me down, if you prove yourself, maybe Vader would reconsider training you? You could become his and the Emperor's apprentice! You could carry our legacy!"

He's deluded, he's insane, he's lost his mind. But perhaps this is just his anger, his aggression, the heat of the moment taking control. Anger makes you stupid, causes you to act irrationally, that much I know.

If I could calm him down, if we both calmed down, and I tried talking with him again, would I sense good in him? Would it surface? After all, not everything from our conversation was completely malevolent and evil, and it was good intentions that lead him down this path in the first place. There is still good in him, there must be. I have to believe that.