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Out of Reach

By Raven Pan

[C] Shadoedancer Creations 23-06-2k2

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"I don't feel like losing any more money tonight," Hobbie stood as he tossed his cards on the table. He looked over at his girlfriend, "Wanna go for a walk?"

She shrugged, "Sure."

At Wes' questioning glance, Wedge and Tycho too intent on the game to do anything more than wave a hand in farewell, Hobbie chuckled. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll be back before Tycho wins a hand."

"See you next year, Hobs," Wes laughed, waving them away. It was his turn to bid, anyhow.

Hobbie and Lyanna linked hands and strolled from the pub. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Let's get married."

"Married?" he almost squeaked in surprise.

"Sure. You gave me this necklace, what, a year ago? And promised you'd ask me to marry you. Well, I just decided you're waiting too long."

He grinned, "I wasn't sure if you were ready, if I was ready...."

"Sure we're ready," she grinned. "So, when can we get married?"

He laughed, truly happy. "How about now?"

She grinned, "I knew you were going to say that."

"Well, I know neither of us want a big to-do, and there's a place just across that walkbridge down the way that does drive through marriages. Imagine the look on the guy's faces when we come back and tell them what we did!"

She grinned. "You know, Wes'd kill you."

Hobbie shrugged, "He'll get over it."

She grinned lopsidedly, "Well, then let's do it! I'll race you to the bridge!" With that she sprinted off ahead of him.

"Wait!" he called after her, catching up with her just as they reached their side of the bridge. "Don't you think we should go there together? What'll we tell the justice when one of us shows up alone? 'Oh, don't worry, the person I'm marrying will be here soon.' He'll think we're crazy!"

"Aren't we?"

He grinned, "Only for each other."

She nodded, "Now's when you're supposed to kiss me."

"I thought that was after we married?"

"I want a kiss now!" She reached up and pulled his head down, crushing his lips to hers.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, deepening the kiss. He pulled away a short time later, "If you keep kissing me like that, we'll never make it across that walkbridge."

She smiled and linked an arm through his. "Well, then, by all means... let's get moving."

*

As they were walking, it started to rain. Nothing heavy, just a gentle mist. They looked at each other, sharing a thought, and linked hands as they started jogging across.

They only got halfway.

The explosion came from nowhere, its concussion throwing them from their feet. The walkway crumbled away beside them as they scrambled to safer ground.

"Hobbie!" she cried out, as a second blast blew her feet from beneath her, only her grip on the edge of the railing keeping her from plummeting to her death.

He turned from where he was crouched on the edge to find that she hadn't pulled herself up beside him, that she'd been just slow enough to be caught in the second blast. His hand shot out to her wrist, as he lay himself out along the walkway to try and pull her up. "Hold on, Lyanna!"

"I'm trying!" she told him, fear lacing her voice.

"I've got you, Lya..." he reached out with his other hand. "Grab hold, I'll pull you up."

"I'm afraid," she kept her grip on the railing, his hand around her wrist.

"Give me your other hand, then you won't have to let go!"

She grimaced as she tried to, but found her arm not responding to her commands. She glanced down to find shards of ferrocrete and metal lodged in her shoulder. Her right arm was now useless. "I... I can't," she told him weakly as she looked up, her large dark eyes filled with terror.

He reached down with his other hand wrapping it around her forearm. "Just hold on, Lya!" He turned his head to shout over his shoulder, "HELP!!!!!"

*

There was an explosion, not terribly far away. Tycho's attention snapped up from his loosing hand of sabaac. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Wes mumbled, tossing a few chips onto the table.

"An explosion."

"I didn't hear anything, maybe it was your wallet," Wedge joked.

There was a second, louder explosion. They all heard that. The three pilots jumped up, suddenly realising Hobbie and Lyanna were nowhere to be seen. "Where'd they go?" Wedge asked.

"They said they were going to go for a... walk..." Wes started running to the door, Wedge and Tycho fast on his heels.

He paused barely a moment to catch bearings, and saw half the walkway bridging the two buildings had been blown away. And someone was dangling as another someone tried to pull them up. As he ran to help, a bonechilling voice entered his hearing.

It was Hobbie's, and he was calling for help.

*

She couldn't stop the tears from beginning to fall down her cheeks. "Hobbie... I love you," she told him. With a jolt of courage, she let go of the railing to grab onto his wrist with her left hand.

He looked back to her, "I love you too, Lyanna. Come on, we'll be alright. I've got you, help's on it's way."

A small section of the ferrocrete fell away. Hobbie hooked his leg through the rail as the ferrocrete disappeared almost to his waist. With the sudden jerking motion, she slipped. He now had her held only by her wrist and hand. "Lyanna!"

"I... I can't hold on!"

"Just a little bit longer..." his tears fell to splash on her cheeks, mingling with her own... mingling with the misting rain.

She started to slip, "Hobbie, please, I-"

"Shhh, everything's going to be fine." He could hear shouts from behind him. "Help will be here in moments."

Her hand slipped from his.

They screamed.

Hobbie reached to try and catch her again, but it was too late. Lyanna fell, screaming in hopelessness. Her voice was suddenly cut off as a speeder crashed into her, folding her nearly in half.

Lifelessly, the body bounced away from the vehicle to fall... disappearing into the dark lower depths of Coruscant.

"LYANNA!" He screamed in anguish after her falling form.

Moments later, there were hands pulling him back up onto what was left of the walkway. He struggled to get out of them, struggled to reach after her. "No! Let me go!" He reached forward, "LYANNA!"

Wes held him firmly, pinning his arms to his sides. "Come on, Hobs, there's nothing we can do."

"Then let me follow her, Wes," he kept struggling, feeling another set of arms trying to hold him down, then another. "Let me go!"

"Let her go," Tycho said quietly.

The misting rain stopped, a deceptive rainbow appearing over the towers beyond.

The Ralltiirian kept struggling, "Let me go!" he screamed. Tears stained his cheeks, drawing trails in the dust of the blast that was yet slowly settling around them. "I can't leave her there!"

"Then you won't leave her... but you won't join her either," Wedge told him firmly. He looked to his XO, "Tycho, we'll get a speeder and go look for her body, so she can get a decent burial. Wes, you stay with Hobbie."

"No!" Hobbie yelled again, struggling, "I'm coming too!"

"She's not going to look well, falling from this height," He reasoned. "You don't-"

"Don't tell me what I do or don't want to see..." Hobbie growled and stopped struggling, sniffling as the tears fell. "I want to find her."

The other three men exchanged glances, then Wedge nodded. "Alright. I'll be right back."

As he left, the other two relaxed their grip on Hobbie, still vigilant lest the distraught Ralltiirian break away and leap to his own untimely death.

*

Wedge returned quickly, and after they piled into the speeder, he began to make an almost circling descent, to be sure she hadn't fallen on some walkway between there and the low levels.

She hadn't.

They reached the ground level, or what had once been such, seeing a group of aliens and once-humans gathered in one area. Something was strange though. Usually, they would be clawing after each other for the unfortunate's things. Yet they stood back at an amazed and respectable distance.

As the Rogues rushed forward, murmers of 'Jedi' could be heard. They didn't pick up on why, until they pushed through to the centre.

There were Lyanna's clothing, her things, as they would have been. One leg and arm lay at crazy angles, and the band that had held her long braid lay just far enough to the side to suggest it had been worn... but there was no Lyanna. Only blood and grey-matter splattered on the ground suggested she'd been there, had landed violently... but there was no body.

Hobbie looked up at the others in confusion, then knelt and patted the clothing, as though expecting his eyes to have been deceiving him, and she was yet there.

Empty.

He gathered the clothing to himself and cried, rocking back and forth, keening moans emitting from his throat. Something fell to the ground, and he reached to pick it up. It was the necklace he'd given her as a promise... a promise that, now, could never be fulfilled.

Hobbie sat for a long while like that, then mechanically got up, gathering her things to himself. Without a word to his comrades, he moved to the speeder, and sat in the back. He exhuded an aura of utter isolation, keeping the others from trying to talk to him.

They knew he just needed some time alone. Wedge drove them back to the base, and Wes walked with Hobbie back to the barracks where they shared rooms. Without a word, Hobbie entered his room and locked the door.

With nobody to see him, Wes let himself cry for the girl who'd been his best friend's love... and had been a close friend and confidante to them all.

*

For three days, Wes paced outside Hobbie's room. Other squadmates had come by, trying to see him, but it was a no dice situation. The Ralltiirian wouldn't answer his comm, wouldn't even get annoyed when Wes tried knocking constantly. He once went at it for two hours, tap tap tap tap, and not a word of admonishment was recieved.

Hobbie never emerged, but that wasn't uncommon. The man occasionally would get in a funk and stay in his room. He had a 'fresher, and a stash of food, so he could go for quite some time.

But, this was different. Wes knew how much Hobbie cared for Lyanna, and he knew his best friend wasn't just hunkering down for the winter. Hobbie was in mourning....

The more he thought about it, the more worried he got. Things soon got to the point where he couldn't wait a moment longer for Hobbie to reemerge. Knowing he was going to hear it from the base keepers, and not caring, he pulled out his blaster and shot the doorpanel.

Hobbie's door slid open to reveal a dark room, the only light coming from the now open doorway. It fell just short of a figure sitting listlessly in a chair. Not moving.

Wes was't even sure if it was breathing. He quickly moved forward and shook his friend's shoulder to no avail. The man was nearly comatose, clutching Lyanna's things.

Unresponsive.

He looked as though he'd gone through the wars alone. His usually neat hair was unkempt, ferrocrete dust still pasted through the strands that fell over his face. Even stubble was present, a testimony to just how long he'd been like that.

He had a pulse though, it was beating slowly, as though trudging along unwillingly, automatically.

Now Wes was scared. He quickly commed Wedge, asking him what to do.

*

Hobbie lay on a clean bunk in a mental ward, still clutching the bloody clothing, still unmoving.

Wedge, Tycho and Wes took shifts sitting with him. It wasn't because there were more pressing matters - they were on leave for the month - it was because seeing their friend like this was taxing on the soul.

When Wedge sat with him, he tried talking to him about all the good times they'd all had. Wes tried to make Hobbie laugh in rememberance of the pranks Lyanna had helped them pull. Tycho said nothing, just watching over the Ralltiirian in an understanding silence. Unsure what to say, lost in memories of his own. Because of this, he was often given the graveyard shift - grisly term, but appropriate nonetheless.

Hobbie wasn't sleeping anyhow. Nor did he eat, or drink, or anything. The only time he'd remotely respond would be if someone tried to take Lyanna's things from him. He simply clutched them tighter to himself.

Until he no longer had the strength to do so.

One by one, they were able to take the bloodstained clothes away, one by one the things she had were placed in a box. Finally, all that was left in his loosely gripped hand was the necklace she'd worn, the necklace he'd given her.

They let him keep that.

*

He was dying, they could see it. He'd lost the will to live, and without that will, there was nothing sustaining him. Intravenial lines and machines could only monitor him, keep him going so long before his lack of will negated their effort completely. If, no when that would happen, he would be gone forever - joining his true love in a silent death.

It had been three weeks since Lyanna's tragic demise, and time was running short. They rarely tried speaking to him anymore, simply sitting beside him, occasionally touching his shoulder to let him know they were still there. That they still cared, and his leaving would surely crush them.

One night, as it neared 0330, Hobbie stirred. Tycho was dozing, but his honed instincts startled him awake at the faint rustle of bedclothes. He looked over, barely daring to breathe lest he disturb the near-comatose man... who was now moving?

He'd heard somewhere that just before someone dies, there is a jolt of energy from who knows where. The ability is given even the most deathly ill to say goodbye to whomever is there to say goodbye to.

For the first time in all the time he'd spent with his friend, he spoke to him. Maybe it was the Force leading him to do so, he did not know. But, he knew that he must speak to Hobbie now... before it was too late.

As the he was silently watched, Tycho let unfold the story of his own lost love. The light of his life. The fiance' that had been killed among millions in Alderaan's destruction. As he spoke, he could see Hobbie's eyes clear some in understanding... in acceptance that he was not the only one to lose someone in a horrible way.

A whisper stole from his lips, and the Alderaanian leaned closer to hear what he was trying to say. From weeks of disuse, Hobbie's usually smoothe baritone voice was reduced to a scratchy whisper through parched lips, almost difficult to understand.

But Tycho could understand, even if he hadn't said the words... "Will the hurt ever go away?"

He shook his head honestly. "No... but it does fade. Soon all that's left is good memories, and the knowledge she'd want you to go on."

"And if I don't want to go on?"

"Your friends and family, all of us would be heartbroken."

Hobbie nodded weakly and, for the first time in three weeks, his eyes fluttered shut. His weak grip on the necklace slackened as his body went limp.

Fear shot through Tycho's heart. Had his friend given up for good? But no, as he sat there listening in the stillness, he could hear the steady, shallow breathing of a tortured soul finally finding rest in the comfourting arms of sleep.

*

It was a hard road to recovery for Hobbie, but with his friends support he trudged through it. His mother even came to visit from Tibrin, leaving his young nephew in the care of his aunt.

They spoke of old times, when he'd been a child, before the Empire had touched his family as intimately as it had, by now, thousands of lives. He learned that, aloof as his father had been, he and his mother shared a great love. Mrs. Klivian told her son the same thing Tycho had told him. The pain would fade, and the memories would remain.

He was eventually released from the hospital upon the condition that if ever he started feeling a relapse, he would speak with someone. His will grew strong in the following months, and eventually the promised fading began to occur.

It was as though he suddenly woke up one day, and the sun suddenly shone. Yet, the rainclouds hovered overhead, a silent reminder that true happiness is something he would always have to work for... but would never be too far out of reach.

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