The Lord of Light
Another Fanfic by Darth Marrs
Author's Note: This is another sequel of sorts to my story Harry Potter and the Four Founders. Like Forever Mage, it is a sequel only in the sense that the events of HP&FF and Forever Mage form the cannon history I will use with Harry's past. The plot device used at the end of HP&FF is also the means by which I introduce Harry into the SW universe. That means that there will be a polygamous relationship in this story, and lots of space sex. If you did not like either of the previous fics, you probably won't like this one either. If you are a Han Solo/Leia shipper, you most definitely will not like this story. It also bears some similarity to Four Founders in that it has humorous elements in the beginning, but does become more dramatic and serious as the story progresses. You've been warned.
In order for this story to work for you, I must ask for a certain willing suspension of disbelief. So please ignore the opening lines of all the Star Wars movies that say: "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…." The story takes place approximately one year before the events in Star Wars: A New Hope (1 BBY in Warsies Parlance). Luke and Leia are both 18.
Edit 11/11/2011-While the word count may be quite large, please keep it in mind that in addition to the official edition of this story, I have also included a completely separate version as bonus chapters at the end. So the actual word count is closer to 140,000 than the number you see.
Chapter One: The Forever Mage
He always woke to pain. The first time, the pain shattered his soul with echoes of death and rebirth. Agony at a cellular level penetrated his whole existence and drove him to the edge of sanity before the cool, healing touches of his wives calmed it.
The second was no better than the first. The pain was laced with broken memories of failure and loss. The third and fourth times were slightly better—the memories were of love and life, and the healing touch calmed the agony of the rebirth.
Others followed, one after the other. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands, until the last one. That last rebirth was not just painted in agony, but also in desperation and need. Everything was ending. The gods themselves had declared war, and they called on him not just to fight those gods, but to hold off the end of existence itself. By then they were so different from him, and yet he could still feel the magic within them.
And now…he opened his eyes for the first time. He should have felt the anchoring bonds of the five who summoned him. He rarely retained memories from those first few minutes after the rebirthing, but he did retain half-remembered glimpses of five beautiful women with dark hair, dark eyes, and low, alluring voices calling out to his power. He remembered the feeling of new bonds forming to anchor him into this new life and strengthen him, but then all the anchors were abruptly, brutally cut. It was the last he remembered—the feeling of his bonds being severed. The women who revived him were dead, why wasn't he?
When he sat up, he found himself on a featureless white table in the center of a featureless white room. The table surface was soft and antiseptic. He felt a twinge in his arm and looked down to see a tube sticking out of his arm. He pulled it out without a thought—whatever they were pumping into him was doing nothing to help. He felt weak and disoriented, much more than he should have. Again, he knew this was because of his bonds being severed so soon after his rebirthing.
He looked around him and saw that the only occupant of the room beside himself was a robot of sorts on wheels. He stood gingerly and held onto the table for a moment to regain his balance before stepping toward the robot.
"Do you have speech capability?" the young man with messy black hair and green eyes asked.
"Yes, sir," the robot said in a calm, older woman's voice.
"What language am I speaking?"
"Galactic Basic, sir."
He pondered that for a moment. "There were five women when I first woke. Do you know what became of them?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I do not know."
"What is your designation?"
"I'll call you DeeDee, then."
"As you wish, sir."
"What are your orders?"
"To keep you sedated, sir."
The young man snorted, and then leaned more weight against the table in an effort not to collapse. "How is that working out for you?"
"Obviously not well, sir. Your body metabolized the anesthetizing agents with greater and greater efficiency until they ceased to be effective. However, my sensors indicate you are in physical distress."
"Yeah, noticed that myself. How long have I been out?"
"It has been three standard days since you arrived, sir."
He nodded and looked around the room. "I'm assuming I'm being watched?"
"That would be a safe assumption, sir."
"Can you tell me where I am?"
"Unfortunately no, sir."
"How 'bout what planet?"
"You are on Imperial Center, sir."
"That doesn't mean much to me, DeeDee. Can you give me some context?"
"This planet was previously known as Coruscant. Prior to that it was known as Notron. It is and has been the political hub of the galaxy for many millennia. Currently it is the capital world of the Galactic Empire. It is the sixth planet of the Coruscant System, a system that contains eleven worlds. Coruscant itself has four moons and eight large Orbital Solar Energy Transfer Satellites whose primary function is to keep the world warm enough to be habitable. Current population is estimated to be at or near one trillion beings."
He blinked and stared at the droid. "One trillion? Wow. So, why am I here?"
"I do not know, sir."
"How 'bout food? Am I allowed to eat?"
A slit in one featureless white wall opened to expose a tray of steaming food. He didn't recognize anything on the tray and the smells were odd, but he was hungry enough to try anything. He was pleased to find a three-tined fork on the tray, along with a tumbler of water.
"Thanks," he said as he placed the tray on the bed he woke up on. He stood and ate the food eagerly. "Strange stuff, but it tastes good enough." He paused on one bite, then shrugged and continued eating. "I don't know what type of drug they put into the purple stuff, but you can let your bosses know that it won't do anything to me."
"I will, sir," the robot said.
He finished eating and replaced the tray in the slit. "So, am I going to have to shit in a corner or are there facilities?"
Another corner of the wall spun on a central access, exposing a white bowl. "Some things are universal," the young man said with a laugh.
He took care of business and noticed that instead of toilet paper, the bowl actually shot an intense spray of a sanitizing agent that, upon evaporating in a second after contact, left him feeling as clean and dry as if he'd just toweled off after a shower. He stood and looked down at the bowl in admiration. "Okay, that was pretty cool. M' bums so clean I bet even my farts would smell good."
"I do not have olfactory sensors, sir," the robot said. "However I am sure you are right."
The boy laughed. "I like you, DeeDee. What kind of robot are you?"
"I am an autonomous medical droid, sir. I am programmed to provide complete medical and surgical care for most known humanoid species."
"Interesting." The boy moved back to the table and sat down. "And what did your complete and surgical care programming tell you about me?"
"You are an anomaly, sir."
"Oh?" The young man slowly pulled himself up on the table and laid down. He fought hard to ignore the trembling in his extremities the effort caused. "Tell me about it? What marks me as different from other humans?"
DeeDee whirled about, as if seeking permission to answer. "You have been officially logged as near human, Species Unknown."
"The last classification I am aware of would be Magus," the young man said.
"I am unfamiliar with that species."
"Not any more."
"Indeed. Our records have been updated to classify your species as Magus. What should I classify as your home world?"
"Most recently?" the young man said.
"Home world is classified as the major population center or origin point of a species."
"Well, by major population our home world would be Caldos. The last I saw of it, Caldos was the sixth planet of its System of eleven planets and had four moons."
The droid whirred again. "That is interesting. From those facts you appear to be implying that Caldos is Imperial Center. However I have never heard the term Caldos used for Imperial Center."
"Probably before your time."
"I have access to historical records going back over two hundred thousand years."
The young man shrugged. "So, what else makes me different?"
"My scan discovered a structure within the limbic system of your brain that is similar but not identical to the sensory nub of a Miraluka, or a similar organ found in Kiffars. Both these species are highly Force sensitive and have an organically produced extrasensory perception. Based on the size and structure of this organ, I believe it is a safe assumption that you too have an extra-sensory perception of some kind."
"I do see dead people occasionally," the young man admitted with a wry smile the droid did not understand
"I shall log it accordingly," DeeDee said. "Your genetic structure is also unique. You have a zero midi-chlorian count."
"Is this a problem?"
"All living species in this galaxy have at least some midi-chlorians."
"And what are middle-chlorines?"
"Midi-chlorians are microscopic single-celled life forms living in a symbiotic relationship within the blood cells of almost all life forms. There have been theories put forth that midi-chlorians are actually intelligent in sufficient numbers. Those individuals with sufficiently high midi-chlorian counts can access a mystical energy field known collectively as The Force."
"Fascinating," the boy said, and he truly sounded fascinated. "So all life in this galaxy has these little middle-chlorine thingies, and some folks can access THE FORCE. What does THE FORCE allow people to do?"
"The Force allows those sufficiently versed in its ways to perform feats of physical speed and stamina outside normal physical possibility. Some individuals are capable of telekinesis, telepathy, divination and other feats outside of explainable science."
"That's pretty neat," the boy said. "So, since I don't have middle-chlorines I can't access THE FORCE?"
"Well, sir, that is part of the anomaly. Though you do not possess midi-chlorians in your cells, the DNA found in your mitochondria…"
"Wait a minute, is there a reason why the words mitochondria and midi-chlorians sound so much alike?"
"I'm sure it's just a coincidence, sir. However, as I was saying the structure of your DNA actually has a strand of base pairs that is identical to the DNA found within midi-chlorians. To an observer, it appears as if your cells have actually incorporated the midi-chlorian DNA sequence into your own DNA."
"Interesting," the young man said. "Is it also possible that maybe the midi-chlorians were artificially engineered using my DNA in order to help facilitate the development of life in this galaxy?"
"Because of the time frames involved, sir, that is highly unlikely."
"Of course. So, let's talk about me some more. It's always my favorite subject. What else about me makes your little robot mind boggle?"
"You are producing an energy field of an unknown wavelength."
"Actually, it's not that unknown. Do you have examples of Force Energy?"
"Not on record."
"Hmmm, just a thought. In my time it was known as anaphasic energy."
"I am not familiar with that term.'
"You wouldn't be. It's lethal to most life forms, unless of course that life form was seeded with midi-chlorians."
The young man snorted. "So robots can lie?"
"Not outright," the droid said, "however, our programming does generally allow us to use inane and non-committal phrases for social purposes."
"Good droid," the young man approved. "I do the same thing around people all the time. So how long am I supposed to wait here before I get bored?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I do not know."
As soon as the droid finished speaking, one wall slid open. The boy sat up slowly on the table and looked on in interest as two men in brilliant red armor and helmets stepped into the room, followed by an attractive blonde woman with sparking blue eyes. She wore a tight black one-piece that probably hugged her body perfectly, though he could only guess through the loose black robes she wore over it. He did note a rather large, gratuitous diamond-shaped cutout in the middle of the suit's chest that provided an ample display of her equally ample cleavage.
A third crimson-clad man followed with a large metal chair. He placed the chair in the center of the floor between the table and the wall, and the three crimson-armored men left.
The woman smiled brilliantly and sat down. She slowly crossed her long, black-clad legs and pulled out some type of electronic data pad and placed it atop her crossed legs. She then leaned forward in such a way as to move the diamond-shaped window to her chest to show almost all of one breast almost to the areola. "Hello," she said.
"Well hi!" the young man said brightly. "Nice shirt. Feels like it's been a million years since I admired such a nice set of breasts."
"Thank you," the woman said without a hint of embarrassment. She seemed to have a twinkle in her eye, and wore an odd black-handled cylinder at her waist. He noticed how the fabric folded enticingly at the hips. "My name is Drayneen. I've been asked to speak to you."
"And such a terrible chore that must have been. You have my sympathies."
"So charming," the woman said with a wide smile. "I'm afraid we don't know exactly what happened. When we arrived at the dig, we found you in an unconscious state, fully nude, surrounded by several bodies. It doesn't appear you were hurt, but you were delirious and convulsing when we sedated you. Can you tell me what happened?"
The boy cocked his head to one side, staring at her. "I don't know," he said. "I don't have a good memory of that time."
"I see. Do you know who you are?"
Her smile widened, but she shook her head. "Sadly, no. We've done as many searches as we can and we have no record of you. May I ask, what is your name?"
"Harry. An unusual name."
"When I was born, it was exceedingly common."
"And when were your born? And where?"
"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away."
The smile faltered. "What do you mean by that?"
"It means I was born a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away."
"Can you give me details?"
"I could, yes."
The two sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Eventually, she smiled again and moved so that the diamond moved to the other breast. It was obvious from Harry's perspective that she was not wearing any type of support. Perhaps there were no bras in space in this galaxy.
He didn't mind that at all.
"So, you could tell me, but you choose not to?"
She was smart. "Yep."
"Your conversation with the medical droid was very interesting."
"It's rude to eavesdrop."
"We were simply trying to learn more about you in order to help. You told the droid that you were born on a world called Caldos, which you say is Imperial Center? There are written records going back over a twenty-five thousand years, and this world has never been known as Caldos."
"Like I said, before your time. But to clarify, I wasn't born on Caldos. It was simply the largest population center of my kind. That was before your time, though."
"Mr. Harry, exactly how old are you claiming to be?"
"The question is actually kind of meaningless, don't you think?" Harry asked. "I mean, when you think about it, time is a matter of human measurement of the immeasurable in order to understand changes to ourselves in comparison to the immutable. Time measurement without context is completely without meaning. My definition of a year, for instance, was determined by the orbital period of a world that I watched an angry god blow up long ago. And yet we kept using that definition despite moving to a world with a different orbital period. So if I tell you I've experienced hundreds of thousands years in many tens of thousands of lives in two galaxies spread over eons, what does that actually mean in comparison to your understanding of time? How do you know my year is comparable to yours? How do you know that any measurement of time as I know it compares to yours? Two hundred thousand years may be a perfectly normal human lifespan to you."
Drayneen stared at him with an open jaw. She unconsciously squeezed her arms closer to her chest, providing Harry a wonderful view of one dark pink nipple and an equally enticing white curve of the other breast. "It is hard to imagine even in comparison to our measure of time that those numbers would not be significant," she said. "You say lifetimes? Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"No, nothing so mythical. I live, I grow old, I die. My soul moves onto another plane of existence where I am happy with my wives. Then some idiot gathers five new wives who circle around my horcrux and pull me kicking and screaming back into a new, magically generated body. And they pretty much only do it when everything is on the brink of disaster. Except that one period when random groups of randy witches just wanted to see if my reputation as a sex god was legitimate. I became the figurehead of a fertility cult that eventually became a major religion with trillions of followers. Pretty damned embarrassing, let me tell you, when people worship giant statues of a man's penis. However, the galaxy saw an untold population spike which was good since it followed a genocidal galactic war that killed trillions."
Drayneen stared with apparent fascination. "Truly amazing," she whispered. "You're telling me that you are essentially immortal?"
"Not really immortal per se. I can get sick and die—though as I get revived again and again it gets harder to kill me prematurely. I'll get old and eventually die. Usually around the same time as whichever group of women become my wives die. My last group was barely recognizable as the same species as me. Yet their power still responded and the bonds formed. Course, by then our genetic drift was such that we couldn't actually produce children, but we sure did enjoy pretending we could."
"What else can you tell me, Harry?" she whispered alluringly. "What can you show me?"
She managed to adjust her chest once again, squeezing her breasts together until he could glimpses of both nipples. He began to wonder if strange energy beams or projectiles were going to come shooting out of them. It would explain why she was so eager to show him her assets.
Or, more likely, it was because she had power. It wasn't very strong, but the power was there nonetheless. She was responding to the pull of his own power just as witches had responded since he was sixteen years old and came into his true magic. If he truly opened up his bonds and latched on to her, he had no doubt she would throw her clothes off right there and begin to shag him until she screamed.
Except… "Let's sum up, shall we?" he said. "I know I'm on a world called Imperial Center, previously Coruscant, previously Notron, previously called Caldos. I know you use robots called droids to handle medical issues. I also know you're lying about how I was found. I also see that you are a cold, amoral murderous bitch who would gladly suck my dick and then cut my throat without a second's hesitation, so let's dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business. Why am I here?"
Drayneen reared back as if slapped, and he could feel her power snapping back into her body as he rejected her on both a physical, psychological and magical level. Her lower lip trembled for just a moment with real pain. Harry did not enjoy it, but also saw no other way to deal with it. The woman's darkness hung like a shroud around her.
Finally the pain sank down below a cold, business like mask. "Very well," she said in a voice that could freeze lava. "If you wish to be unpleasant, we can certainly oblige."
One Last Note:
Posting should be weekly when I can pull it off. Thank you for reading!