Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Star Wars franchise and am not making any profit from this.

When last we saw our heroes, they had successfully escaped from the evil Prince Xizor, head of Black Sun, and were returning to the Alliance, still intent on rescuing Han from Jabba's clutches. However, as things are rarely easy, they are still dealing with the aftermath of their adventures and there are still too many questions that have yet to be answered….

Return of the Jedi

A small Imperial shuttle moved smoothly from the bay of the Super Star Destroyer, heading towards the skeletal-looking structure of the half-completed space station hovering in space in front of it.

At any other time, the pilot might have taken the time to be impressed by the sheer size of the massive station, but currently his attention was preoccupied by something even more ominous than the Death Star.

With a hand that tried not to shake too much, he activated the comlink. "Command station, this is ST 321. Code Clearance Blue. We're starting our approach. Deactivate the security shield."

There was a hiss of static and then a voice came back. "The security deflector shield will be deactivated when we have confirmation of your code transmission. Stand by."

The pilot exchanged a worried glance with his co-pilot and fought not to glance over his shoulder at the occupant of the passenger compartment. He never took well to delays…

But the hissing respiration that filled the shuttle remained even and shortly the com clicked again and the controller's voice came back.

"You are clear to proceed."

"We're starting our approach." The pilot replied, trying to hide the obvious relief in his voice. Shortly, they'd be on the station and then his passenger would be someone else's problem. He might feel sorry for them under other circumstances, but he was too grateful that it wasn't his own neck on the line. Rumor was the Emperor himself had ordered this little visit and that its purpose was too chastise those responsible for the Death Star's progress.

Even though he was only the shuttle pilot, that was closer than he'd ever wanted to be to the instrument of the Emperor's displeasure.

In the passenger compartment of the shuttle, Darth Vader was aware of the fear and nervousness of the pilot, but he ignored it; his thoughts on other things. He resented being sent on this little excursion. He had far more important concerns to focus on than this foolish exercise in terrorized coercion.

As far as he was concerned, the Death Star was merely an overblown display of the Emperor's vanity. He'd argued against the first planet killing station, and again against the second, which he saw as even more futile. The Rebellion had already destroyed one, what was going to prevent them from doing the same with the second?

He shouldn't have to waste his time chastising Jerjerrod for not doing his job. The man should simply be eliminated and then replaced with someone more competent, leaving Vader to far more important tasks.

Such as locating his son.

His son…

The word reverberated in his mind with far more impact than was normally attached to such an innocuous word.

He'd thought the boy lost along with his mother; had long ago forced himself to eliminate any thoughts of the child or Padme. It simply hurt too much to think of them, and Darkness was not supposed to hurt.

But against all the odds of the galaxy, his son had been returned to him, alive.

Of course, in true karmic irony, the boy had been raised to hate and fear his father by Kenobi.

Anger surged through Vader at the thought of his former master. More than for what had been done to himself, Vader resented Obi-Wan for stealing his son from him. He should have been the one to see his son born, he should have been the one to introduce Luke to the Force. He should never have had to see a look of fear and loathing on his son's face as he gazed at his father. But thanks to his former friend, that was all that existed between them.

Damn, Obi-Wan!

The Dark Side swirled around him in response to his thoughts. And yet, as always, underlying the anger and hatred the thought of Obi-Wan brought, there was a small tendril of sadness that remembered the way things had once been, that remembered how Obi-Wan had cared for him and tutored him, had laughed with him and fought with him…how they had been friends. He could never quite eradicate that feeling, despite all of his efforts. It was the tiny part of him that he could still label as Anakin Skywalker, with all his ignorant naiveté and painful hope. The part that he had been trying to rid himself of for years, because with it still there, he could never entirely embrace the Dark Side wholeheartedly, and that left him vulnerable.

Unfortunately, that part seemed to have grown slightly larger since he had discovered the name of the pilot who had destroyed the first Death Star. It was emerging more and more often lately.

It was what had kept him from killing Luke on Bespin, when the boy had blatantly defied him.

It was also what had caused him to reveal a little too much of his emotions to Aurora Kenobi when she had contacted him regarding the contract on Luke's life.

Still, that had worked out well in the end. A small smiled tugged at his lips when he thought of the sheer satisfaction he'd felt at giving the order to destroy Xizor's skyhook.

He dwelled on the memory for a moment. Not only had he rid himself of a potential rival and general pain in his ass, but in doing so, he'd been able to save his son's life. He wondered if Luke had thought of him in that moment.

A slight tremor shook the shuttle as it passed through the magnetic containment field that held atmosphere in the docking bay. Moments later, the landing gear lowered and the ship set down on the cold black deck.

Vader sighed internally. It was time to deal with these fools. He'd do his job and play his part, terrorizing Jerjerrod back into efficiency, and then he could concentrate on his true priority – locating his son and figuring out how to lure him in.

Because willing or not, it was time for Luke to return to his true place – at his father's side.

Aurora lifted her bottle and set it carefully back on the table, the ring of condensation it left overlapping the previous rings on the table to form a series of concentric circles. Idly, she contemplated them, rings upon rings formed in the sandy dust blurring the table top. There was something profound in that, if she cared to think about it.

"Having fun?" A smooth voice asked over her shoulder.

A few weeks ago she might have jumped, or at least reached for her blaster, startled. But not now. Now she'd been well aware of Lando's approach before he'd even gotten near.

"Not really." She answered him as he slid into the booth across from her. "Tatooine bars kind of lose their glamour after the first, oh, I don't know, ten seconds?"

"Ten seconds is longer than I would have given." Lando replied dryly. He gave a quick head tilt. "Found our mark."

Aurora casually leaned back in her seat, letting her eyes sweep in the direction Lando had indicated.

"The Weequay in the cloak."

She contemplated him. "A Weequay, huh?"

"One of Jabba's personal guards." A slightly worried look crossed Lando's face. "Does the Force affect Weequay's?"

"Guess we're going to find out."

It hadn't taken much effort. A little conversation, some outrageous bragging on Lando's part, a little flirting on Aurora's, and a judicious application of the Force. Turns out Weequay's were susceptible to mind pushes after all. And Corellian whiskey.

Lando chuckled under his breath, the sound barely audible over the noise of the other patrons in the bar.

Still, Aurora heard him and turned her head, questioning.

"Just contemplating the military applications of Corellian whiskey."

"Too many to count." She replied, tipping her head back and draining the rest of the bottle.

Lando raised one eyebrow at the action. "In a hurry to get back to our room?"

"In a hurry to get out of these clothes."

He leered at her deliberately. "Now that's a damn shame."

"Lando."

He chuckled at the exasperated warning in her tone. "Better get used to it. You're going to get a lot worse than that in the coming days."

"Don't remind me."

"Course, I'm sure that none of the reactions you'll get will be quite as rewarding as the one you got from Luke." He continued cheerfully, waiting for the reaction.

"Lando." This time there was no exasperation to veil the tone; it was a warning plain and simple.

Lando dropped it, but he couldn't quite stop the smile that spread across his face as he remembered the look on Luke's face when he'd entered the small house to find Aurora trying on the outfit Lando had procured for her in expectation of getting hired at Jabba's.

Lando could have sworn the temperature in the already warm room had risen ten degrees as the two Jedis had stood there, staring at each other; color rising in Aurora's cheeks as blue eyes had slowly scanned tight black leather from head to toe and back again, lingering on the smooth expanses of creamy skin visible where the leather had been cut away.

It had only been Leia's dry voice coming from behind Luke that had broken the spell between the two of them.

"Can you even walk in that?"

"I hope so." Aurora said. Her voice was steady, but her color was still high and Lando noticed that she couldn't quite meet Luke's eyes. She'd taken a few quick steps away, putting the length of the room between the two of them.

Lando waved one hand languidly from the couch where he was sitting. "You'd better try bending and stretching. Make sure that you can move comfortably. The last thing we want is one of our hidden aces being hampered by her clothes."

"You picked this stupid outfit." She reminded him irritably, but she'd complied nonetheless, crouching smoothly and then straightening and stretching her arms over her head.

Lando noticed that Luke, still standing motionless near the door, was slowly clenching his fists tighter, and that he'd had to visibly swallow.

Not that Lando blamed him one bit. Watching black leather tighten and stretch over slender curves, his smile had grown wider. "Yes, yes I did." He congratulated himself.

Aurora had glanced over at him, her eyes narrowing. "How much do you want to bet that I can still hurt someone very, very badly while wearing this?"

"I think I'll take your word for that." Lando replied hurriedly, straightening from his slouch, just in case he needed to move quickly.

Leia perched on one of the chairs, contemplating the other woman. "Where are you planning on hiding your lightsaber in that?"

Lando had opened his mouth, a reply on the tip of his tongue, but the Force thrown mug hitting the wall next to him had shut it quickly enough.

"Well, what do you think, Luke?" Leia asked, turning towards him. "We've had one male reaction. What about yours? Do you think it will work?"

Luke had to swallow twice before he could get his voice to come out of his suddenly dry throat. "Oh, it works. It definitely works."

Remembering now, Lando had to turn his head away from his companion to hide his grin, both at the memory of Luke's fervent response, and at how fast the younger man had gotten out of the house and how long he'd stayed away; finally returning shortly after the suns had set, sweaty and breathing hard.

Obviously, he'd tried a little hard exercise to take his mind off of… things.