Title: Who Killed Moff Tarkin?

Chapter: 2. Deadly Clichés

Keywords: Mystery, murder, Tarkin, Luke, Vader

Rating: G

Genre: Adventure/Horror/Mystery

Timeline: Post ESB

Author: Wellingtonboots

Archive: Slytherin Serpent,

Status: Short Multi-chapter

25th DAY OF THE FIFTH MONTH, 21:10 HOURS – SECRUITY HQ, THE DIPLOMATIC COMPLEX, ANDAMAN

"Yes, I knew Moff Tarkin," snapped Leia. To anyone unfamiliar with her unique body language Princess Organa looked impatient and cold but Luke could read her like a datapad and she was scared.

No one expects a man who was confirmed dead more than three years ago to reappear in this remote corner of the galaxy and be brutally murdered. It had taken Luke all of three milliseconds to realise that someone or something had sliced open Tarkins' stomach and twisted his intestines around his own neck but it had been so carefully done that it was hard to see this when the corpse was floating faced down in the pool.

But how did he get here in the first place? thought Luke his mind spinning with confusion. The skyhook was probably more secure than the Death Star but that was a bad analogy. The Andaman government knew exactly what they were setting up and every skilled person; every manufactured droid had been put in place for the purpose of providing security. Even the bar tenders were intelligence operatives. No one could sneak on board here...unless the Andamans let them on. The Alliance's initial attempt to slide some of their own guards on board had been met by amused irritation from the real security staff and Luke knew the Empire could not have fared any better. The Andamans were fiercely protective of their control over this little skyhook and no one was foolish enough to challenge it.

Luke reckoned he knew the twenty Imperial ambassadors by sight if not by name and there was definitely one Imperial he knew a bit too well.

"And you were convince that he had died on the Death Star?" asked the bullish security chief they had seen just an hour ago by the pool.

"Yes I was, but I was obviously mistaken," said Leia acridly. She had long concluded that upbraiding the security chief was the safest way of taking out her frustrations.

They were locked in the Security Headquarters on level 15 just beneath the penthouse section. Brown uniformed guards milled around the square outside providing a reassuring display of force but they were not really guards anymore than the chief security officer was really in charge. It was all just for show and Luke knew the penthouse section was now teeming with special operatives in disguise picking up all the evidence.

"We do not think you are a suspect," said the chief trying to deflect the barrage of sharp remarks. "We just want to know if you really believe it is Grand Moff Tarkin."

"Shouldn't a DNA test confirm it?" asked Leia derisively.

"Your highness, there is no genetic profile to which we can compare him to," said the chief flatly.

"Well, I thought it was him – it looked exactly like him."

There was just a small quiver in her voice that betrayed her fear but Leia ploughed on regardless.

"I did not know him very well but he had most distinctive features." She paused for a moment but then asked, "What have the Imperials said?"

The chief looked in two minds as to whether he should give them the information and finally he relented.

"Lord Vader has confirmed that the body is most likely that of Grand Moff Tarkin, but he is also at a loss to why it was here. It was clear from the autopsy the victim was perfectly healthy until he was murdered and yet the Imperial Death certificate said he died three years ago on the Death Star."

"I won't be surprised if he faked his own death," said Leia haughtily, "Moff Tarkin was never one to stay on a sinking ship."

The Chief did not look amused

"Any how the Imperials have yet to release a formal statement about the matter but it would be most helpful if you -,"

"Seen as we are not suspects," interjected Leia, "we are disinclined to make a public statement. This has nothing to do with the Alliance."

"With all due respect your highness, people do say you have the motive,"

"How can I possibly kill a dead man?" asked Leia as she got up to leave.

When they finally got back to penthouse section the pool had been drained and teams of detectives in airtight jumpsuits were combing every inch of the floor for evidence. The flashing red lights had gone but huge thousand watt stadium lights have been brought in to replace them. The pool and surrounding shrubbery were gripped in the burning glare.

A dark blue energy field had been erected around the crime scene preventing any unauthorised entry.

So how do you kill a dead man? thought Luke was they walked around the perimeter of the cordoned off area. Well, you'd have to know he was alive first.

"I really don't see why we are being dragged into this, it not as if we discovered the body," said Leia as she surveyed the crime scene with undisguised curiosity. "Ambassador Greein is still distraught, I do hope they haven't tried to interrogate him,"

Several jumpsuit clad shapes looked as if they wanted to wave their hands to shoo her away but then thought better of it when they belatedly realised who they were dealing with.

"Have you spoken to Greein yet?" asked Luke wondering whether the charming, sophisticated ambassador was going to recover in time for the next round of talks. He had been taken away under the pretext of needing psychiatric therapy and not heard from since but it had only been an hour ago and perhaps Greein was still sitting on one of those hard leather couches having his mind deconstructed by a short sighted doctor.

"No, but he'll be back soon, I'm sure."

Leia didn't look so sure and how could she be when they and their Imperial adversaries were all at the mercy of the reputedly ruthless Andaman government. Any system that had managed to physically repel Imperial rule for over twenty years was a force to be reckoned with but Andaman had gone three steps further and procured a complete ban on Imperial shipping within its outer rim system. However they could not stay isolated forever and the Imperial Spider was simply biding its time, waiting for the plasma energy reserves to dry out.

"Besides," continued Leia as they approached the entrance to the penthouse, "The real security force already knows who the perpetrator is, we were only taken in for question to satisfy official protocol."

"They couldn't keep us so we're off the hook?" asked Luke as the crystal glass door swung open to reveal the sumptuous atrium with its huge artificial waterfall and pool.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Leia not bothering to lower her voice, "the Imperial delegation will not take this lightly."

"How can they possibly account for the fact that Moff Tarkin has been officially dead for three years?"

"They'll find a way."

The blossoming foliage inside the atrium concealed many places where eavesdroppers could hide but eavesdroppers were not needed because just above the waterfall was a whole row of cameras disguised as rock features covering every conceivable angle.

Two identically majestic staircases curved around the water feature and joined the balcony above where all the private chambers were located. The other three sides of the rectangular atrium were covered with tranparisteel windows that looked out onto the outdoor sauna, the nunaball courts and the gardens.

"Well at least the Imperials haven't returned yet," said Luke with false cheer. The night had only just begun and it was going to get very ugly.

"I'm going to my room, care to join me?" asked Leia casually as she strolled up the stairs. Why not? Thought Luke, your room is just as good as mine for hiding in.

Leia's chambers turned out to be identical to his, right down to the shiny silver door knobs shaped like swimming fish. However she had been stubborn enough to personalise her apartment. Hanging prominently on the back wall was a moss painting, which looked like a cross between a pot plant and a bad excuse for art. A large green puddle of murky water had formed below the painting and was spreading with every dirty drop of water that draining down from the frame.

"Uh, Leia?"

"Don't worry about the carpet, Luke, I'm sure the Andamans won't mind. Now we need to figure this out."

"Figure what out?" asked Luke, his mind still held captive by the grotesque lump of vegetation.

"Tarkin's death! The Andamans have been humiliated by this breach of security and they need to prosecute someone, or at least name a suspect. I highly doubt that the real perpetrator will be brought to justice."

"So you think that the Andamans might be responsible too," said Luke shrewdly.

"If I hadn't swept this chamber for listening devices just now, we'd all be in big trouble," replied Leia casually, "and to tell you the truth I really can't figure out why the Andamans would do this. It's clearly an embarrassment on their part to admit and unauthorised person managed to infiltrate this skyhook. Additionally it will simply cause more tension between us and the Imps..."

"Well, maybe they just want the Alliance and Imperials off their property fighting each other. The plot would work – the Imperials would demand the Alliance to be brought to justice, we would deny any involvement and then the talks would be scuppered."

Leia raised one aristocratic eyebrow.

"Well reasoned, but you're forgetting something very important. The Andamans need us – maybe not the Alliance in particularly but certainly outside help. No one knows how bad their energy crisis is but according to the old Trade Federation reports the plasma was running low almost a decade before the clone wars. I'm impressed they managed to last so long on their own but they need trade, preferably with us and the Imperials. Destroying this diplomatic talk would be disastrous for the system."

Luke frowned at the idea. The force was being uncooperative this time and he had not been able to sense even a vague feeling of deception from the Andamans or anyone else for that matter. There was just an undercurrent of fear and confusion floating insidiously below the surface.

Suddenly loud angry voices erupted in balcony and Luke wasted no time in rushing out into the corridor. At the top of the stairs, he saw the belligerent figure of Han Solo pointing aggressively at none other than Darth Vader and Admiral Piett. Chewie was cautiously holding his crossbow against his chest as waiting cautiously for a chance to use it.

At Luke's appearance all four men turned to stare at him.

"What's going on here?" demanded Leia but even she fell silent when she saw the looming figure of the Dark Lord of the Sith.

For several seconds only the hissing of Vader's respirator broke the tense silence and Luke had the creepy feeling that Darth Vader was looking right at him from behind the blank eye sockets of his mask. It took all of his Jedi control keep himself from running away.

"Captain Solo is under the influence of alcohol," rumbled Vader calmly, "I suggest you escort him back to his quarters."

"I'm fine!" snarled Solo as he lunged forwards in an attempt to grab Vader's cape, "but I'll tell you someone who isn't! What did you do to Luke, you b-,"

"-Rahhhhh,"

With an irritated roar Chewie wrapped his free hand around Han's mouth before he could do any more damage.

"Luke Skywalker," continued Vader as though Han Solo didn't exist, "I have been waiting for you."

"You have?" said Luke derisively before his fear got the better of him.

"Yes," stated Vader flatly, "Come to my quarters we have something to discuss."

"What?" cried Leia and Han in unison.

Luke couldn't take it anymore; the terrible memories of Bespin were crowding his mind. His robotic hand throbbed with electric pain. He had to get out of here before he collapsed again. Suddenly a voice erupted inside his mind and he knew immediately who it was from,

"We have much to discuss, young one. Come with me...or I shall inform your friends exactly what we discussed on Bespin."

"You wouldn't!" thought Luke instinctively, "you wouldn't dare!"

"On the contrary, my son, it is not I who is afraid of our connection. Come with me."

"I'm not afraid!"

"Then come,"

It was not a command but a challenge and even if Darth Vader hadn't reinforced those two words with a strong dose of force suggestion Luke would have risen to the bait.

"Fine,"

The disjointed conversation between boy and Sith taking finally burst forth into the mundane dimension and it took the mundane inhabitants by surprise.

"I'm fine," repeated Luke firmly in order to cover up for his lapse of judgement.

"Very well, young Skywalker, come."

Vader extended one gloved hand across no man's land and Luke closed the distance between them with three completely voluntary strides.

"The hell," cursed Han Solo quietly under his alcohol soaked breath.

"I'll be back Han, don't worry."

Something was fortifying his courage with as much effect as several shots of Povlop Vodka. What Luke did not know was that Dark Lords of the Sith did not need to ply young vulnerable Jedi with vodka to make them...behave. The power of the Dark Side was enough to bend even the strongest minds to its insidious will.

Together they moved off up the corridor to the other side of the penthouse. Vader had been not assigned chambers because not even the official Andaman government representative wanted to be dissected with a lightsabre. Instead the Dark Lord of the Sith seemed to have chosen a closeted suit in one far corner that was directly accessible via the balcony walkway but did not itself lead onto any other rooms. It was the closest anyone managed to get to privacy within the entire skyhook.

"Enter," commanded Vader as he pushed his young son into his suite, which was less than tastefully decorated in lavender and violet. The vase that had been pera-glued to the coffee table had been relieved of its sickly sweet contents and the pictures of landscapes from around the galaxy had been systematically destroyed so that only the blank frames remained. However the large transpri-steel windows that over looked the atrium could not be disposed off and the tranquil sight of the garden was cleverly obscured by two well place pieces of stiff fabric hanging from the ceiling.

"It's nice," muttered Luke neutrally as Vader directed him to the lavender sofa. In the back of his mind a vague feeling of terror was itching at his consciousness.

"Sit Luke,"

If he had been in his right mind and not feeling so floppy, Luke would have protested that they were not on a first name basis – yet.

"Okay," he replied, flaccid and compliant.

"You will have heard of the recent murder," rumbled the Dark Lord who in an unnecessary act of maintaining superiority decided to loomed over him.

"Yes,"

"Very well, did you kill Moff Tarkin?" demanded Vader without any hesitation.

"No,"

"Do you know who did?"

"No,"

"Was it the Princess?"

A small spark of independent logic that stubbornly refused to cave pointed out that seen as Luke didn't know who had murdered Moff Tarkin the last question was utterly irrelevant. However his mind was still happily floating in the pseudo alcohol-induced daze.

"No,"

Vader paused as though mentally moving onto the next task at hand.

"Do you want to know who killed Moff Tarkin?"

"Yes,"

"Then join me,"

"No thank you," replied Luke sweetly as though he had been brought up to politely turn down offers of absolute power from absent fathers.

"Join me,"

Somewhere in the back of his mind another bottle's worth of imaginary Vodka started to affect his central nervous system.

"No thank you," repeated Luke ever so politely, just like his Aunt Beru had taught him.

Vader relented, most likely because he realised to his own surprise that controlling Luke Skywalker's mind with lashings of the dark side simply made the boy behave like a senile pensioner and he would have said so out loud if the boy hadn't fixed him with that unnerving smile; the unnerving smile that Padme used to put on when she knew Anakin was up to something bad.

Slowly that dark coils disentangled themselves from Luke's mind until most of the drunkenness faded into the distance leaving Luke in full control of his senses.

"AHHHH!"

With an almighty force assisted leap Luke jumped over the back of the sofa, putting the hideous piece of furniture between them.

"Calm down, Luke," rumbled Vader and stretched out his glove to prevent the boy from doing some rash like rushing out of the room.

Luke made a beeline for the door but an invisible hand gripped the back of his tunic and hauled him, quietly gently, back to the sofa.

"What did you do to me!" cried Luke half way between hate and fear.

"Merely a small dose of force suggestion," replied Vader calmly and when he stretched out to control Luke's mind again he found that the boy had instinctively raised some impressive mental defences.

"Stay out of my head!" snapped Luke, his voice nearly cracking with fear and his hand straying to his lightsabre. Vader debated whether to relieve the boy of his weapon before Luke managed to hurt himself again but decided that it was about time to let his quarry go. They would have plenty of other opportunities to talk. After all, who was going to deny a father time with his son, particularly when the father in question liked to choke people with the force.

"You may leave now,"

"Huh?" the boy was looking as though Vader was deliberately setting some sort of trap.

"Our conversation has reached the end of its usefulness."

Luke took the hint and edged towards the purple door without taking his eyes off Darth Vader.

"If you ever do that to me again, I will – I will complain to the Andaman government," said Luke fiercely.

Vader tried to stop himself from feeling amused.

"By all means, young one,"

"I will!" snapped Luke before wrenching the door open and stepping cautiously out.

"If you wish to conduct an independent investigation into Moff Tarkin's murder," continued Vader, "I will tell you now that the body is a fake."

AN: And the plot thickens reviews very welcome!