AN:
Whateveritis: That is one of the things I don't like about many of the "Vader Lives" fics. I think you'll like how I'm handleing this aspect.
I love dance: Thank you.
Alien Roxi: Here you go! ;)
Jedi Karma: You got it!
Mon Mothma was looking over the latest reports on the Battle of Endor. It would soon be time to figure out where to go now. The Emperor was probably dead, but that had yet to be confirmed with Commander Skywalker and Darth Vader still unconscious. She sighed. They'd have to assign a JAG officer for him soon, but she really wanted to wait until he'd healed some.
A part of her still wasn't convinced this day had finally arrived and was fearful that their report would be that the Emperor escaped. She closed her eyes and thought of all the friends and comrades that had given their lives so that this day might come. She sighed and turned back to her datawork. She had barely gotten started when the intercom chimed. She let out a mild curse and pressed the intercom button.
"Yes, Thadius?"
"Threkin Horm is here to see you."
She sighed; it could be worse, but it could be better, like no one having interrupted. One thing she could do, at least, was to listen to what he wanted and get it over with. At least whatever he wanted wouldn't give her ulcers; the Alderaan Survivors Committee didn't usually have…demanding requests.
"Send him in."
Threkin Horm entered her office in his repulsorlift chair. Mon Mothma was sure she was imagining things, but he'd seemed to have put on even more weight since she had seen him just before the battle. His thinning reddish brown hair was plastered to his skull by sweat, a result of the high humidity maintained on Home One in deference to the Mon Cal crew. He seemed…anxious. She motioned for him to sit as she put her datapad away.
"What can I do for the Survivors of Alderaan today, Mister Horm?" Mon Mothma, she refused to use his given title. In her opinion it was presumptuous for him to claim the title of President when commissioner or Speaker would've done just as well and avoided confusion. Her annoyance was tripled when she thought about how he'd maneuvered the Survivors Council into adopting it, in spite of Mon Mothma being named President of the Alliance to Restore the Republic a scant six months before the destruction of Alderaan. She revised her original assessment of this meeting; it WAS going to give her an ulcer.
"First you can confirm a rumor that I've heard, Madame President," Horm started, his voice was nasal and it sounded like he was coming down with a cold, it had the effect of making his voice, which on the best of days was annoying, nearly unbearable to listen to and Mon Mothma fought the urge to shudder as he spoke.
"And what rumor is that?" she replied, keeping her voice pleasant.
"That Commander Skywalker has taken Darth Vader prisoner."
It took all of Mon Mothma's considerable willpower and political experience not to sigh at that statement, it wasn't a secret, but it also hadn't been made public knowledge yet and Mothma had hoped that she'd have at least a day or two before having to deal with his presence in the fleet in public.
"It is true that Darth Vader is a patient on board the Mercy, Mr. Horm. However he came of his own volition and in the process probably saved Commander Skywalker's life in doing so. It is the position of this Office that he is to be treated as a defector until and unless he proves otherwise."
"WHAT! You can't be serious!" Horm exploded, spittle escaping his mouth.
"I most certainly am serious. He is being treated for his injuries as we speak."
"That is unacceptable! I came here to verify that he was in custody and to find out when his trial would be and now I hear that he's being welcomed as a HERO! This is outrageous and an insult to all of Alderaan's dead!"
"Oh please, Mr. Horm. How many defectors did we take in during the past year alone, men who, while acting under orders did horrible things?"
"This is completely different and you know it."
"I don't see how. He can be a great help to us in securing the rest of the Galaxy from the Imperial military. Furthermore we don't know yet that the Emperor didn't escape the destruction of the Death Star."
"Justice can only be served by ensuring that Darth Vader cannot hurt anyone else." Threkin Horm shouted.
"If he wants to defect we are going to give him that chance. Justice demands it."
"You're insane. He's a MONSTER! He destroyed my HOME!"
Mon Mothma sighed, and a part of her sympathized with him, but he was wrong.
"No, he was present, but by Princess Leia's own testimony after the Destruction of Alderaan, it was Governor Tarkin in command of the Death Star and Tarkin that gave the order and Tarkin that was responsible for Alderaan's destruction, not Darth Vader."
"This is ridiculous, I shouldn't have to fight so hard to get a MASS MURDERER executed!"
"There's the problem, Mr. Horm. You've let your emotions run away with you on this. Darth Vader will not be tried for anything, until and unless he states through words or actions that he is not, in fact, defecting. He will have all the protections of a defecting officer, including protection from prosecution for crimes committed on the orders of his chain of command."
"He HAS no chain of command! He was a law onto himself and raped the galaxy and murdered my HOME!"
Mon Mothma sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose; she was starting to get a headache. Her sympathy for his feelings was quickly being eroded by his stubbornness.
"We've been over that. No my decision stands."
"If you don't turn him over for trial I will have your job," he said, rage seething from him.
"Go ahead and try. You might have noticed that we have won our greatest victory of this war under my watch. I think my job is safe."
"I'll divide the Alliance."
Mon Mothma couldn't quite keep the shock from her face. "You wouldn't, you couldn't! Not after all we've been through!"
"I will, I can. There will be enough that want to see Vader burn for his crimes; it will cripple the Alliance. You know I am right about that," he said, his tone serious and all expression leeched from his face.
She swallowed, thinking. "Very well, you win this round. However, this will NOT be a binjinphant court. I insist on a fair and legal proceedings."
"Very well, we'll have all the data in their correct columns before we execute him," he said with an ugly smile that reminded Mon Mothma of a nexu's.
Once she was sure he was gone, and she'd settled her own feelings. She pressed the button on her comm. "Get me the JAG office."
* * *
Luke opened his eyes, but it took effort, and he wasn't ready for more than that. He was lying in a bed of some sort, and the cacophony that assaulted his ears told him that he was in a hospital bed. He sighed. He hated being in a hospital bed. That meant that he'd done something incredibly stupid.
He sighed, and wondered exactly what he'd done this time. His memories were slightly scrambled and a little hazy. He was disappointed that he seemed to be alone, but he wasn't really in a position to care right at that moment, and it did give him time to sort himself out. He began to get uncomfortable, and so he moved, curling up on his left side instead of lying flat on his back. He viewed his room with a bit of detachment. The curtains, which would be closed most of the time, were open now, but there was still no one in the room other than the being in the bed next to him.
A memory brushed the surface of his mind. "She was very beautiful. Kind, but...sad." He held it down, pinning it for reference. There had been a battle before, and he was talking to his sister after the many adventures of that day…whatever day that was.
He'd told her. That had been when he'd told her that they were twins. He groaned, because of the pain that conversation had brought her, something he'd been acutely aware of, though he'd pushed it aside in favor of duty.
He was aware then, of a comforting presence, whispering into his mind that it was all right; Leia was strong and had dealt with the fact that they were siblings. He sighed, believing it, for the moment, at least, and he went back to trying to organize his mental closet.
He had told her because…he was going to confront his father, their father, to try to get him to turn back to the light, and become Anakin Skywalker once again. He tracked that memory down as well: the conflict within his father as they met, and went to the Death Star, and the elevator ride to meet the Emperor.
His memories were shattered after that, fragments coming to him: pain, rage, strength, calm, fear, and betrayal. That was the most bitter of what he could glean, and he wondered. Did he succeed in turning his father from the dark side, or had he been forced to kill him?
The Emperor was dead. That wasn't an issue, and he wasn't quite sure how he was bone-deep certain that the Emperor was not a problem that he would have to confront again.
"Luke," a weak raspy voice came to him from across the room, and he concluded that the only person who could have said it was the being in the other bed.
"What?" he asked, not moving, not ready for anything so strenuous.
"It's good to see you awake."
"I feel like bantha poodoo. I think I'd much rather still be unconscious, thank you very much."
A rumbling wheezing sound followed. He was uncertain as to how to interpret that but the voice retained its humor when the other person spoke. "All-in-all, I would rather be unconscious as well, but the Force does not always grant us what we wish, only what we need."
With a sharp intake of breath, Luke realized that whoever was in that bed must be Force-sensitive. He felt, weakly, out from himself and found a strong, resonating signature, that he almost recognized, but it had changed so drastically since the last time that he'd felt it, that he wasn't absolutely certain. "Father?" he asked hesitantly.
"What?"
"Just checking," Luke said, and the rumbling wheezing sound followed again, but Luke knew what it was this time, and he felt…lighthearted, like the entire galaxy had been lifted from his shoulders, because he heard his father laughing. "How long have you been awake?"
"Oh, an hour or so. I've been watching you sleep."
"That must have been fascinating," he said sarcastically.
"Actually, yes. I've been awake off and on since we've been here."
"Where is here?"
"A medical frigate—the Mercy, I believe."
"How long have I been out?"
"I believe about 24 hours."
Luke nodded, though his father couldn't really see him all that well. "Anything interesting happen while I was snoozing?"
"Your sister came by. I had a short talk with her."
"How's she taking everything?"
"Probably as well as can be expected; she's uncomfortable around me, and worried about you. I imagine that she'll be back as soon as she hears that you're awake."
Luke stifled a laugh, and it came out as more of a snort. "I imagine she will. Was Han with her?"
"Captain Solo?" Anakin asked, contemplating it. To Luke's affirmative, he said, "Yes, I believe that it was. I didn't see him, so I don't have that much to go on."
"Except the Force."
"Yes, well, I'm not exactly in the best of shape right now, insofar as my ability to connect with the Force."
Luke bit his lip, concern spilling out around him. "Is…is it a permanent thing?"
He was silent for a few moments. "It is and it isn't. My capacity to touch the Force was severely diminished when I was injured on Mustafar, but this, I think is temporary, and will pass as I regain my strength."
"Father?" he asked again.
"Yes, Luke?"
"Welcome home," he said, and then drifted back into semi-consciousness as his father mulled his words over in stunned silence.
* * *
Helena Eserina pursed her lips in a sort of frown as she looked over the information she'd just pulled up on her datapad. She'd been able to talk some of the Rebellion's more colorful slicers into getting her Vader's medical records from the Empire's database, and some of what it said made sick twisted sense, if you looked at it from the point of view that the intention was to keep him in the suit and as uncomfortable as possible.
She was uncertain how to take some of it. There was a point in time about three years previous where he'd been offered the option to try to undergo the massive surgery that she was now contemplating, but he'd been told then that the likelihood of success was less than twenty percent. It wasn't high enough to be out of the 'risky' category in reality; perhaps sixty percent, but certainly they could reduce the risk by doing the surgeries individually, if he chose that route, and he could stop at any point, between the procedures, at least.
He could choose to go ahead and do them all at once. She would have personally wanted all the surgery done at once, in his position, and the overall risk was lower, considering his health, the shorter surgery times only increased the survivability to doing each surgery individually to somewhere around eighty percent.
And the way he heals, she thought, I think it's probably much higher. She'd been monitoring both Vader and Luke, and both had progressed remarkably and she'd revised her estimate of how soon they'd wake twice already, and her current estimate said it would still be a couple of hours. Her com buzzed, and she absently reached over and turned it on; if it had been an emergency, that wouldn't have been the way that her staff would have summoned her. That was what the shipwide was for. "Yes?"
The voice on the other end was that of Estelle Corans, her head duty nurse for what passed for the day shift of the ship. "I thought you'd want to know that Commander Skywalker's vitals show that he was awake a little bit ago. I wasn't at station, I was on my rounds, and Jaynie didn't catch it. Vader's vitals have been very erratic, but I can't say as to why. He's always out when I go in there, but his vitals are consistent with him having been awake a few times."
"I'll come check on them. I have Vader's records from the Empire."
"I'd like a quick look at them, while you're down here."
"I thought you might," she said. "Be there in a minute," she said, and flipped the com off, grabbing her lab coat, more out of habit than a real need for the equipment she had stashed in the many pockets. She slid the datapad into one of those pockets—one that she'd designated for the purpose.
It wasn't far to the central ring of patient rooms in the ship, where she'd stashed her two most famous patients. Commander Skywalker did indeed have symptoms consistent with sustained electrical shock, and they were treating him gently. He could have done with a couple of days in a bacta tank, though it wasn't absolutely necessary. And since he could do without it, he was. She had far more seriously injured patients who would likely die without the same treatment that would only serve to get him on his feet faster. If she had a tank open in a couple of days, she was considering dunking him anyway. It would make him feel a lot better a lot faster. There was little that she could do to make Vader's stay any more comfortable, though she hoped to be able to make it palatable. It depended entirely on him, and she hoped he would be a good patient, though considering his actions towards others in general and his physicians in particular while he was in the service of the Emperor, she doubted it.
"There you are," Estelle said as she rounded the corner.
"Yes, here I am," she agreed and pulled the datapad out of her pocket. "Here's his chart history. I'll just drop in and check on our boys."
"Main com just notified me that the Falcon is on her way back, bringing Princess Organa and General Solo."
"Well, maybe news of visitors will get Commander Skywalker up for us," she said lightly, and then proceeded into the room.
She looked Vader over first, placing her stethoscope over his heart. While the machines could monitor facets of a being's health, in her opinion, nothing beat a good old-fashioned stethoscope for troubleshooting a patient. "Do you have to put that cold thing on my bare skin?"
She managed not to grin, since that was the other benefit of using such equipment. His eyes were a startling shade of blue, and she looked at him while she continued what she was doing. "I am checking your breathing and heart rate," she told him unconcernedly, and he sighed.
"Don't you have equipment for that?"
"Yes, and it's currently pressed against your chest. It's good to see you awake." He grumbled something unintelligible, and she did smile this time, lifting the stethoscope, and putting it back around her neck. "I take it you don't agree with my assessment?"
"Well," he said with a sigh, his voice clear despite the oxygen mask he had to talk through, "I suppose it's better than being dead, which I rather expected at this point."
"I think we will at least be able to avoid that," she said, "And perhaps even do something about bringing your quality of life up to par."
He regarded her with curiosity. "What do you mean?" he asked finally.
"Well, at the very least, I want to replace your prosthetic limbs with something a little higher quality, and something that is the proper size. There are other surgery options that I will want to take a look at with you, but we have quite a bit of time to go over those options with you. Whatever that chemical was that your suit was pumping you with, I want to be absolutely certain that you're over any withdrawal symptoms before we talk surgery seriously."
"Withdrawal?"
"We had the stuff analyzed, and it looks like it had some addictive properties, but I'm not certain. It will be a few weeks before I will even consider clearing you for surgery." Vader nodded, thinking about what she'd said. "But for the moment, you seem to be doing well enough. Is there anything you want to tell the vultures right off?"
"Vultures?"
"The military types who will insist on knowing every facet of information you hold in your head. I don't think they will formally debrief you until I release you, though considering who you are, they might insist on it anyway. I can fend them off for a few more days even if they get insistent based on medical necessity, and if someone up top backs me, then indefinitely, at least until you're better, but if there's anything of a, shall we say, time sensitive nature, then we'd best get them on it."
"Oh," he said, understanding what she wanted, finally, she supposed, and his brow creased as he frowned in concentration. "There is nothing that immediately comes to mind as far as things that they need to know now."
"Alright, now, something to ease my mind. What the kriff were you doing bringing Commander Skywalker here if you were fighting him?"
He frowned again. "I'm not sure I can answer that right now without revealing information of a sensitive nature that I am not prepared to reveal just yet."
"I'm a doctor. This would fall under doctor-patient confidentiality agreements."
"It's not my information to reveal, entirely. I must speak with Luke and…others before I can determine who can and should know the answers to that question."
She frowned, but if he was protecting someone else from potentially damaging information, she could understand how he felt. She'd had a number of defectors through her ship, and especially if they had families who were still under the jurisdiction of the Empire, they could be this cagy. Hell, she thought wryly, this is downright open compared to some of the people I've seen through here. At least he's honest about why he doesn't want to say anything. "Alright. It won't do you or me any good right now to press you, so I'll leave you alone, but we'll get back to this topic, don't you worry about that," she said, smiling again.
"I should know the answer tomorrow, if that is acceptable."
"As to whether you can tell me?" she asked, and he nodded, slowly. "Alright, I'll hold you to that," she told him and turned and went to Commander Skywalker's bedside.
He stirred, waking as she pressed the stethoscope onto his chest. "Do you have to put that cold thing on my bare skin?"
It was startling, because it was said in the same tone of voice as what Vader had said to her. In fact, it was the exact same wording. "Well, I won't be long with it," she told him, and he looked up at her, blue eyes the same icy shade as Vader's. "You need to rest, and you aren't to be up and around. You, I trust, can stay in bed and behave yourself?"
He grinned unrepentantly at her. She'd had to patch him up before, and he was one of her worst patients. "I'll behave until Leia gets here," he promised finally.
She frowned. "How did you know she was on her way?"
He sighed. "She's in the system. She would be here sometime today, no matter what else was going on."
It was logical, but there had to be something more to it, the way he'd said it, and she frowned at him. "No Force powers for you either, mister."
He frowned petulantly. "I promised to be good already. I don't feel like doing much beyond being awake right now, anyway."
"Sorry about that. If I could have you in a bacta tank right now, I would. Your body took quite a hit, and I don't doubt it hurts something fierce."
He nodded. "Maybe not sharp, but my whole body aches."
"I think you'll be here for a while, so you'd better just resign yourself to that fact now. And don't go getting any ideas about Princess Organa springing you out of here, or any such nonsense. I will release you when you are well enough to return to your duties, and not a minute before."
He sighed, but she held his eyes until he dropped them, acquiescing to her terms. "Yes, Doctor Eserina."
"Good boy. I'll be by in a few hours, after Princess Organa leaves, or if she's taking entirely too much time, I will boot her out. Just because you're hurt doesn't mean she doesn't have work to do, and I will remind her of that if she doesn't think about it before I have to."
He sighed, and said, "All right. I'll remind her that she needs to work at some point if she doesn't leave on her own. I think you're overreacting, though."
"You're right. She's worse than useless when you're in a bacta tank."
He perked up at that a bit. "She was that worried about me?"
"Yes, she was that worked up about it, especially since it had been most of the night since anyone had seen you when we'd brought you in."
He shook his head, and settled into a restful position. "I won't take up anymore of your time," he said, "But I'll see you when you get back."
"You are entirely too much," she told him, and with that she left to see about her other patients.
* * *
A rare case of nerves set in on Leia as Han settled the Falcon into her assigned berth on the Mercy. The ship hadn't contacted her, but she knew that Luke was awake, and furthermore, that Vader was as well. It wasn't unexpected; the doctor had said Vader was in slightly better shape than Luke, though Luke was expected to make a full recovery.
Vader, she'd found, looking at the preliminary medical report Doctor Eserina had sent the command staff, was lucky to be alive. He'd survived horrific tragedies, though of what type, she had no particular way to know. The gut-level reaction she'd had to reading the report had been anger, she realized that most of what was done to him had to have been done by the Emperor, and he was dead. That fact, though, wasn't enough to smother the fire of her rage. The thing she didn't really know was rather she was angrier at her…father for letting all of this happen, or at the Emperor for making it happen.
She shivered as she felt both of them reach out to her, Luke happily, and Vader hesitantly, ready to withdraw at the slightest provocation. She felt reassurance in their direction, and looked at Han, and he grinned at her, sliding his arms around her protectively. She stood on her tiptoes, and he took that for the invitation that it was, and kissed her. It was more solid to her now than it had been when he'd kissed her at the party on Endor, shortly before she'd been pulled aside to take the call that Luke was hurt, and she felt a tingling up her spine as she wondered what was going to eventually come of…this.
"Come on, let's not keep Luke waiting."
"He isn't supposed to be awake yet, according to the last thing I saw."
"He's awake, and he's been awake since breakfast this morning. He took a nap, but he's awake again. Come on," she told him.
He rolled his eyes, clearly a disparaging thought about the Force running through his head, but she didn't really care. "If you're coming, Artoo, you'd better get moving," she called out and got an answering string of beeps, and Threepio trundled up beside him. She headed down the ramp at a suitable pace for a former Senator of the Empire, and leader of a former planet, with the three of them following in her wake.
Luke sat up slowly as they entered the room, "Hi, you two look a lot better than I feel."
"Nice to see you in good enough shape to make bad jokes, kid." Han said with a grin.
"He's right son, that was bad," a raspy voice said from the other side of the curtain.
"Hey! I'm a Jedi Knight, not a stand up comic." Luke said in self-defense.
"How are you two feeling anyway?" Leia said interrupting the banter with the question that was most on her mind.
"I think we'll live, Leia," Luke said to her, and she went over to him, letting the others file in behind her.
"It's good to see you awake," she said, settling onto the edge of his bed and slipping an arm around him.
"Father said you were in here yesterday," he said, and before she could respond Artoo began nattering away with beeps and whistles and raspberries. Lots of raspberries. He seemed to be directing most of his commentary at their father.
"Hey," he said indignantly, "I didn't know you were there. It's not my fault you ended up on the other side in a war." This was responded to with indignant fury that she'd never seen from the droid.
She heard Threepio speaking to Han over another long string of vile sounding beeps and raspberries from Artoo, "Oh, my, sir. I don't think I can translate this for you. My circuits are getting overheated just thinking about what he's saying. I don't know where he picked up such language."
"That's alright, Goldenrod, I think the message gets through quite effectively without the words," Han told the primly proper droid.
"That wasn't my fault. You were the one who let Snips take your parts off. I wasn't even there." Beeping. "That doesn't make it my fault. If that's the case then anything you're blaming on me from before I was Knighted is Obi-Wan's fault."
Artoo let out a series of sounds that she could almost interpret as a derisive snort, and then he turned to another subject, apparently. She looked over at Luke, whose brow was furrowed in concentration as he listened to and, she thought, understood, what Artoo was saying. After Artoo finished with his tirade, he let out one last mournful whistle.
At this, Leia saw the one thing she'd never dream she'd ever see…Darth Vader tear up.
"It...it is good to see you, Artoo."
* * *
Jan Selestian answered the com. It wasn't such an unusual task, so normal, but for the senior JAG officer in the Alliance, it was almost normal for that simple act to precede the munk hitting the turbines. It was with this thought that Jan Selestian, defector to the Alliance to Restore the Republic, and Rear Admiral in the Rebel's forces, as well as being a former Imperial JAG officer of the same rank until he couldn't take his own military's double standards answered the com in a very sedate, normal tone of voice. "Admiral Selestian, JAG office, how may I help you?"
"Jan? It's Mon Mothma," Mon Mothma's voice came over the speaker, she would've sounded normal to nearly everyone, but to Jan's ears, it sounded strained and upset, and he knew that this was going to be bad.
"Yes, Madame President," he said, decorum demanded that he not just cut to the chase, she was after all the President of the Alliance, he sat back in his chair expecting her to engage in some small talk, all business, but minor stuff before she got to the real reason she called.
"You've heard the rumors that Darth Vader is on the Mercy?" she asked, causing Jan to sit up and take notice. This was going to be REALLY bad, for her to not even beat around the bush about it.
"Yes, I have even seen the security reports on his arrival. What's the problem that you need my help? I have it on good authority that he's still in the care of the Mercy." He was puzzled, normally, if a defector was injured in the process of defecting (an all-too-common occurrence) the legal part of his defection was postponed until after the medical staff released them, and they usually took their sweet time to do so.
"He is, but I have had the incredible displeasure of speaking to Threkin Horm. He's heard about Vader being aboard the Mercy and is demanding a trial for him," her voice was flat, hiding the rage Jan knew she had to be feeling.
"And you want a legal position on this, correct?" Jan asked.
"Yes, but also I need you to assign council to Vader as soon as possible."
"Why? He doesn't have a leg to stand on; hell he doesn't even have a surface to stand on if he HAD the leg. There is nothing we can charge him with, if he's not defecting, then he's a POW and subject to the same rules of all POWs, if he is defecting, then he'll get processed through just like the rest of us did."
"If only it was just a legal issue. He's threatened to split the Alliance with this."
"Can he do that? Everyone knows the rules on this. Even he knows the rules governing this."
"True enough, but he's good a whipping up emotions. I don't think he'd succeed in splitting the Alliance, but this is a critical time and he would do severe damage."
"I see…We can't charge him as he is effectively in Bail's place and has the right to take his people out of the Alliance. Princess Leia should never have let him take power that way."
"She didn't think she had a choice. We're trying to restore Democracy, remember?"
"I know, but she should have run against him, she'd have won in a landslide."
"True, but tradition forbids the Royal house from intervening in domestic politics that way."
Jan gave a derisive snort at that, then continued, "Ok, well, first we need to determine Vader's actual status. Has he said that he intends to defect?"
"Princess Leia assures us that he will cooperate."
"Did she get that officially recorded?"
"No. She didn't."
"That's not good enough Mon.," Jan said in a pained tone.
"He did save Commander Skywalker's life,." She pointed out.
"Ok, that's better. With that we can grant him provisional defector status until through verbal refutation or contradictory action he proves us wrong. However I want to get his official declaration of defection on record as quickly as possible. Also in light of the apparent…forgive me I was about to say Sith hunt," Jan shook his head ruefully.
"I know what you meant, Jan,." she said sympathetically.
"Anyway as I was getting ready to say, he needs council now as opposed to when the medics are finished with him. I'll head over to the Mercy as soon as we finish here."
"You'll be taking the case?" she sounded surprised.
"Yes, with something this high profile I'm the logical choice. I think we can stop a trial in its tracks, but it won't be easy if public opinion gets really out of control.. The idiot doesn't know what a can of dung he's opened by even considering this."
"Yes, there are a lot of people that would like to see Darth Vader executed…damn it, there's a part of me that would like to see it."
"Not a large part Mon, or we wouldn't be having this discussion."
"True enough."
"Was there anything else?"
"Isn't this enough?"
"I suppose so. Once I take Vader on as a client though I won't be able to talk to you about the case, and Captain Mulfera will have to cover my duties here."
"I understand. Thank you."
"All part of the service," he said and closed the connection.