This is what I had up as chapter three, but in actuality it's chapter four, so read chapter three instead. I accidentaly put this one ahead of three. Also at the end of this chapter is a preview for a story I just put up called The Will of the Force. Take a look.
Plans
The corridors always held an eerie sense of mystery that was about the same as Bob had seen lurking in the fog on Dagobah, only this one was tainted with darkness, especially alone at night, though in space night and day were interchangeable; the only thing keeping them separate was the clock, which now read a little past one thirty in the morning. The watches had changed half an hour ago, and all was quiet as he slipped as stealthily as a shadow from one hall to the next, nodding to the occasional person at a station, which became less and less frequent as he headed for the bowels of the station. As he went, he reached out with the Force, feeling for anyone ahead of him. The place was deserted.
As he searched with the Force, he felt his senses touch something, not even something just the presence of something, like a magnet something into contact with the energy field around another magnet. And like a magnet he was drawn to it. He cautiously rounded a corner and came face to face with a wall. Bob frowned. Why make a corridor lead to a dead end? Even if he didn't sense something coming from behind the barrier, it didn't make sense. He probed gently until he found a weak spot and pushed. A door swung open to reveal a small room made of glass with a door on the other end leading to another room. Bob went in and the door immediately shut behind him. Panicked, he swung around, but relaxed when he saw a doorknob on the inside. Obviously it was only meant for keeping people out. He took a step toward the other door, noticing where the Force presence was coming from: inside the other room, a girl with dark brown hair was sleeping on a bed. She looked young, only about eight or so. He cautiously opened the door, wondering if this was a prisoner, or some kind of special project of the sith lord. As he entered the room, the girl stirred and opened a pair of dazzling green eyes.
"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously. "Where's my master?"
"Your who?" Bob asked, confused.
"My master. Lord Vader. Where is he? And why are you here?" she stood up and glared at Bob. "It's the middle of the night. Who are you?"
Bob thought furiously, but a single equation played in his mind, one that Jesse had taught him. The Sith is made up of two: a master and an apprentice. No more, no less. That was a bit disturbing considering that There were now apparently four Sith, sort of. Sidious, Vader, himself, and the girl.
All the more reason to get out of here, Bob. Vader's not going to keep you around for very long if you can't match the girl.
Unless the girl is out of the picture.
Bob snapped that line closed. He'd been here too long if those kinds of thoughts could creep in whenever they wanted.
"Are you deaf or something? Who are you?"
"A worker here." Bob answered cautiously, wondering how he should play this. Vader might not like it if the girl told him he'd been in here. "My name's Bob."
The girl snorted. "That's a stupid name."
"Really? What's yours then?" Brat.
"Why should I tell you?"
"I told you mine."
"So?"
"So I could kill you if I wanted." And I do want, little pest.
The girl raised an eyebrow and snorted again. "Please. You couldn't stand a chance."
"That's quite a boast considering I'm about twice your size." Bob said. He was really flying this one by the seat of his pants.
"Live and learn." A voice said. Bob shot a sideways glare at Kitch. Not helping.
"Oh really? I'd like to see you make the aggressive move for once." Kitch said.
"You would?" Bob asked. He turned to the girl, more annoyed by Kitch than anything else. "I'll make you a bet then. I win, you tell me your name and some other things. You win…" he stopped for a minute.
"I turn you in to Lord Vader to be executed." She narrowed her eyes. "No one is supposed to be down here."
Bob cocked his head.
"Don't do it. It's too big of a risk." Kitch said.
"You just told me to be aggressive." Bob said. He was pretty sure the girl thought he was nuts, talking to the air like this. "Now shut up."
"She might surprise you." '
"No, I might surprise you when I kill you next. And don't say I can't because I will find a way." He turned back to the girl and drew his lightsaber, setting it on low power. A flicker of surprise was quickly masked as she drew her own weapon. She barely had time to activate it before attacking. Her whole style of fighting made Bob certain he could win, but Kitch was right, she did surprise him. She was aggressive and seemed to know no fear, and she handled her weapon with the ease that only came from years of practice. He wondered how old she was. She actually might have been able to win if she hadn't been so offensive. He felt her reaching out for the dark side, but she didn't have enough skill to use it as stamina when her own gave out. Bob didn't even try to win, he just let her run out of steam. Soon she was groping for the Force like a swimmer when they surface, and Bob casually touched his saber to her neck. She glared and deactivated her own.
"Name?" Bob asked.
"Lor Assant." She hissed. Her green eyes blazed fire.
"Nice to meet you." Not. "And how long have you been here?"
"Six years."
Bob frowned. "How old are you?"
"Ten."
"So you came here… from an orphanage?"
"So?" the glare, which had begun to relax, returned.
"Nothing. And Vader's training you?"
"And you apparently."
Bob nodded, thinking, and quietly grateful that she had been too busy during the fight to notice the minimum amount of Force – particularly dark Force – that he'd used.
So Vader already has an apprentice, probably planning on overthrowing his master. That's why there are always only two Sith. They just keep killing each other. Bob reasoned. So when he met up with me, he figured why not cut off the waiting time a little. But then I keep stalling with the training, so he's still keeping her around until he sees if I work out or not. Either way, one of us is toast.
"So Bob, will it be you or her?" KItch asked.
Bob didn't answer. Of course logically he should be getting his butt out of there. Let Vader kill the emperor, it might make it easier for the rebels. But… he glanced at the girl, arrogant, bratty, aggressive, but also unafraid. What was it Jesse had said?
Fear leads to anger, anger to hate, and hate to the dark side. But there wasn't any fear, or anger really. She took the dark side as matter of fact because she'd never been taught anything else.
If Jedi who have always been taught light and nothing else can turn to the dark side, can Sith who have been taught darkness and nothing else turn to the light? Bob wondered.
"An age old question." Kitch murmured.
No, the question really was, was he willing to risk it? It would be his life on the line if he stayed. Sooner or later Vader would find out. Better to leave now and forget this whole thing. But… there was always that but. And the way Bob saw it, Jesse and Kimmy had had plenty to do eighteen years ago when they'd run through the temple looking for Vader. It would've been easier for them to just leave him, but they hadn't. They'd saved his life. Wasn't Bob obligated to pass on that debt? He studied the girl. It wouldn't be easy, but it just might be worth it.
"I have a lot more questions." He said.
She raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to win again for that."
"Ok." He took out his saber.
"There's such a fine line between wisdom and foolishness." Kitch murmured. Bob had been hoping for words if encouragement, but he should've known by now that that wasn't Kitch's style.
He thought it would be harder to make Lor think she won, but actually she was such an aggressive fighter and so cocky that it was almost too easy. When she put her saber against his neck triumphantly, he shrugged and shut his off.
"You're pretty good." He said, playing his cards carefully. This would be the tricky part, making her not turn him in to Vader. Otherwise he'd be done. "I didn't realize just how good."
She cocked her head. "I know."
"And that undercut… wow. Think you could teach me that?" Bob had learned how to do that particular move long ago, but it was the right bait, and Lor snapped it up.
"It's not that hard, when you know what you're doing." She added the last part a bit condescendingly.
"Well you know what you're doing."
"I do. I can show you though; I'm sure it won't take you too long to pick it up."
Bob raised his eyebrows. "How about if I come back every night?" he saw her start to hesitate. "Unless you need sleep." He added a touch of his own condescension.
"I'm fine. Do you need sleep?"
"I'll be here tomorrow night." Bob turned to the door, realizing for the first time that the windows he'd seen form the other side of the wall weren't windows at all, but one way glass. He stiffened slightly. Anyone could have been watching. A quick Force probe told him he was in the clear. The door opened easily at his touch, which surprised him. Obviously Vader didn't want her going out and sniffing all over the station.
"It only doesn't let me out." Lor explained. A hint of longing was in her voice, and Bob realized that he really was doing the right thing. He nodded and slipped out.
Lando had finally come up with a plan. Unfortunately neither of the girls agreed to it.
"Look, if I can get in there as a guard, I can maybe unfreeze Han." Lando said.
"But we won't be able to help you if you get in trouble." Leia protested.
"I… I don't think you two should come in with me." Lando said hesitantly.
"I'm going in whether it's with you or not." Leia said stubbornly.
"Leia…"
"You're not my boss, and if I may remind you, it's your fault we're in this mess." Leia snapped.
Lando looked away, and Lark automatically touched his arm. "You did what you could." She said. "You thought you were doing right by your people. And you're doing right now."
"Hmm." Lando said. Leia looked away, and Lark nearly drowned in the two torrents of emotions raging between the two. Lando ran a hand through his hair, and Lark knew that one of the primary objectives of his plan was to keep them away from Jabba, but she also sensed that it wasn't just because he wanted to keep them out of danger.
"Lando." She said. "You don't have to play martyr."
"I'm not…"
"Shut up, because you are. It's not all your fault. It's partially your fault, but it's not all your fault, ok? If we were counting blame, we could blame Han for not paying off his debts to Jabba, or Bobba Fett for handing him over, or Vader for giving him to Fett, or Sidious for turning Anakin to the dark side, or Obi-Wan for training Anakin, or Qui-Gon Jinn for insisting that he be trained."
"Who?" Lando asked.
"It doesn't matter. Things in the galaxy never rest on one person's shoulders. We all make mistakes, and we all have to pay for them, but no one should be stuck up enough to refuse help when it's offered."
Lando was silent for a long while then Leia reached for his hand. "I'm sorry. I was blaming you."
"You should."
"Lark's right. You tried to do what you thought was best. We need to move on, or we'll never figure this out." She sat back and cleared her throat. "I have a plan."
Lark and Lando looked up.
"It's simple really. I take Chewie, dress up as a bounty hunter, and go in for the price. Then I can unfreeze Han, and we'll get out. Lando will be there to cover for me if I need help."
"What about me?"
"Wait, you're not agreeing with this crazy plan, are you?" Lando asked.
"Yes. But I want in."
Lando opened his mouth and then shut it.
"Wise man." Lark said.
"No, I just figured that you'll do it with or without my approval, so I might as well approve so I can keep an eye on you."
"I repeat, 'wise man'. What about me? Can I dress up as a bounty hunter too?"
Lando looked at her. "Why not?" he muttered.
"Good."
Fog enveloped his ship as he searched for a safe spot to land it. Finally Jesse spotted what he was looking for: a rare patch of rock in among the trees, almost hidden by ferns and moss growing through the cracks. He thanked the Force his ship was small and landed, shutting down the engine an opening the hatch. Then he stepped out into a world where the humidity was so thick you could cut it and serve it on a platter, but for all that you never could feel fully warm. Jesse reached out with the Force. He had no idea where Yoda was, but he knew he was here, unless old age had finally overcome the little Jedi master. He hoped not. He needed him.
"A long time it has been, hmm, young Jesse?"
Jesse jumped and whirled but stopped just short of activating his lightsaber. He recognized the voice and it filled him with relief.
"Jumpy you are. Expect the unexpected you should." Yoda, the three-foot Jedi master advised Jesse from a fallen log.
"What about when the unexpected is shielding themselves?" Jesse asked dryly, but he couldn't keep from grinning.
"Looking for me, I assume you are." Yoda went on. "Much turmoil I sense."
"That's an understatement." Jesse took a deep breath. "Do you have a cave or mud pit around here where we can talk?"
"Think that of my home, you do?" Yoda snorted. "Never any manners you had. Come." He led the way through the dense fen and to a small clay hut that Jesse had to duck to get into. He automatically reached out with his senses and started in surprise, but Yoda only nodded.
"Sense young Bob and Luke, you do."
"How…"
"Sensed you land I did." Yoda continued. "Need my help you do."
"Yes." Jesse didn't quite know where to start. "The rebellion needs you. But that's not why I'm here." He quickly added the last part before Yoda could say anything. "I've been having nightmares and not being able to sleep. And… Kimmy and I had a shout out before I left to go look for Lark and the rest. Then when I got back I found out that she had gone to look for me." He didn't know how much sense that had made, but Yoda was nodding.
"Too much you have seen. Too much for you to bear alone. Too many fears haunt you. Wish to consume you they do." He raised a finger. "Strong you are. Cling to the Force; the only way to remain strong it is."
Jesse nodded. "I need to find Kimmy."
Yoda sat back. "No."
"No?"
"Meditate you must. Then look."
Jesse gave Yoda a knowing look, remembering padawan days of meditation. It looked like he would be taking a trip back to the past, and though the delay irked him, he had learned long ago never to argue with the old Jedi master.
The Will of the Force -
"...I've been having dreams again lately. They're like the ones I had before my mother and Padme died – vivid and haunting. I dream I am standing in front of my old master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. In my dream, we are fighting, and then he salutes me with his saber, and I run him through. That should please me. As a Sith, it's be my duty to kill any Jedi I run across, not to mention the fact that killing my old master would bring a lot of personal satisfaction. This dream should not trouble me the way it does, it should make me glad. But it doesn't..."
"...So what does that mean? I have to keep killing people to keep the dark side flowing pure in me? For some reason that doesn't seem quite right. After all, Sidious went for years without killing anyone before he came to power, though his skills aren't nearly as good as mine when it come to lightsaber techniques. He's more of a diplomat, and quite a powerful one at that. He spent his time carefully chipping away at the seams of the republic rather than chopping peoples' heads off like me. Maybe it amounts to the same thing for him.
It's too bad I'm on a ship in hyperspace, otherwise I could kill someone and get a good night's sleep..."
"..."She's my grandmother." The boy said, kneeling down next to me. He can only seven or eight.
About the age of the younglings…
Would you shut up?
"I never knew her." The boy continues.
I turn my thoughts to what he'd said. Was this Owen Lars' boy?
"Is Owen your father?" I ask, wondering why I care.
"No, he's my uncle."
Uncle? I had thought Owen was an only child. Unless…
No.
But… it's possible…
"Where's your father?" I'm amazed that my voice functions at all.
The boy looks right through my mask into my eyes somehow. Force, he looks like me when I was a boy lifetimes ago. "Dead." he says..."
"..."I wanted to know something." I begin, a little shakily, but at least it gets rid of the cursed silence. "It's this: I had the best master in the Jedi order, my midichlorian count was sky high, I was an apprentice and yet on the council, I was the chosen one, for pity's sake! How in the world did I turn to the dark side?" With that over, I sit back and wait for his answer. It's slow in coming. Obi-Wan must have been a better master than both he and I thought, here I am a full fledged Sith and yet I'm practically on my knees begging him for answers to questions best left in the past..."
"..."Well, Anakin, here it is." Obi-Wan turns to me, and I feel a twisting like a knife in the pit of my stomach. "We can proceed with our fight, and you can go back to your master if I don't kill you first."
The knife twists again, and I look into his eyes. In the blue depths I see not only him, but the Jedi younglings I killed at the Temple, I see the whole order, my mother, Padme, and I see my son, Luke..."