— The Will of the Empire —

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Chapter Seven


Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for the information on Rex, I hadn't realized that the story had been as substantiated as it was. Despite this revelation, I still don't have any plans to include him in the story. I'm not saying I won't add him ever, but I don't think he has much of a place in the story. Cody won't have much of a presence either, though it's likely that I'll be adding references to him/name-dropping as the story progresses.

The end of this chapter will mark a turning point in the story. While this chapter consists almost entirely of dialog, there is a clear direction that the story will be moving in upon its conclusion.


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(Wedge Antilles): "Sithspit! What's that?"
(Wes Janson): "That's the sun, Wedge. It's after dawn."
(Wedge Antilles): "Well, it offends me. Turn it off."
(Wes Janson): "It's one-thirty, one-forty million klicks away from here."
(Wedge Antilles): "Go up in your X-wing and shoot it down."
(Wes Janson): "Wedge, stop acting like a little kid. You're embarrassing me."

#

Twenty-five days after BoE
Salis D'aar, Bakura

Leia cupped Han's face in her hands and kissed him fiercely, feeling his lips move in sync with her own as they pressed against one another. Her desire to remain pressed together so intimately soon gave way to a greater, more urgent need. She released his face, both hands descending to grip at his vest as their kiss intensified. It was the kind of kiss that held the promise of something so much sweeter if she could just get his karking clothes off. She'd almost managed to get his damn vest removed until the thumb running over her breast stilled her hand. Hearing his husky chuckle, Leia considered inflicting pain upon her lover for his impudence but quickly disregarded the notion when his hand moved lower and the thumb stroked just...

She gasped.

"Off!" she ordered, fisting her hands in his black vest and giving it a sharp tug.

He obeyed wordlessly, practically tearing it from his chest even as she grabbed his belt, working it loose with trembling fingers. Han began unbuttoning his shirt as she hurriedly shrugged off her own jacket and kicked off her boots. Still mostly clothed, she immediately flowed back to him, pulling his face down so that their lips could once again meet. She continued kissing him, taking his bottom lip between her teeth to nibble on. Han hissed, and she felt him reach down to divest himself of his suddenly restrictive pants. Once his pants had finally fallen from his waist, one hand went to cup her cheek while the other moved to stroke the part of her most in need of his attention. Their mouths still fused together, their fierce kiss was a lingering, wild thing that stole their breaths away.

Leia pulled back with a gasp, letting her head fall back as he kissed along the curve of her neck while his hands alternated between caressing her and working at the fastenings of her uniform. It was almost a tease, this slow reveal of her body that he reveled in, and though she was far more impatient this night, she allowed him the time to slowly back her toward their bed in the borrowed suite. Letting out an inarticulate sound of pleasure, she ran a hand through his soft, brown hair as his hand ran under her tunic to cup her breast, fingers teasing the tight bud that throbbed so pleasurably.

One hand still running stroking his hair, she put her other arm around him, urging him toward her, toward the inviting bed that lay just beyond her. Another low chuckle escaped him and she murmured his name, half in chastisement and half in love. Force, did she love this man; she'd never be able to express just how much she loved this man, this maddening, arrogant, scoundrel of a man. She just felt—

—she felt. A feeling...she'd felt it before...she felt—

Frowning, Leia opened her eyes, looked past Han's shoulder and screamed.

Many things happened at once then, a sudden flurry of activity that she completely ignored. Han, startled by her cry of fright, spun around to confront whatever it was that'd frightened her. With his pants half undone and hanging around his knees, this had the result of him tripping over himself and tipping onto the floor with flailing arms. There was a loud, crashing noise that came from beyond the bedroom, followed by the sight of a Noghri dashing inside, large sicklelike weapon in hand. Without a moment of hesitation, it swiftly dashed toward her, pushing her so as to place a wall at her back while he took a protective stance in front of her, hissing as he examined the room for any hint of a threat. Seeing only Han, the Noghri bared its teeth and took a step forward.

Leia's attention, however, was neither on Han, who'd hastily pulled his pants up and was scrambling for his blaster pistol from the dresser top, nor on the armed Noghri, who'd managed to break into her room and get within striking distance in a disturbingly short amount of time. No, it was the Force ghost hovering between her and Han that had captured her attention, a familiar and very unwelcome spirit.

The spirit, a young man with wavy, shoulder-length hair and clad in the brown Jedi robes she'd seen in her father's holopics, wore a sheepish, embarrassed expression. And yet...and yet, there was a hint of smug satisfaction in his eyes that couldn't be disguised. Leia hissed, unable to properly articulate the enraged words that were pent up inside of her.

"You!" she glared at the spirit, knuckles white with the tension of her clenched fists.

Han, who was now armed and dressed, sans vest, looked alarmed as he followed Leia's gaze past him. With the only object behind him being the dresser, he pointed a finger at himself and shot her a worried look. "Me?"

Leia looked through Anakin Skywalker's ethereal form to meet Han's gaze. "No," she snapped.

Without abandoning his position or glancing over his shoulder, the Noghri let out a rumbling growl. "I smell no threat here, Lady Vader. I know what a scream of terror sounds like; what is it that's disturbed you? Does this male need to be removed?"

Han, caught between pointing his blaster at the Noghri's unexpected presence and at whatever nameless, invisible thing that had attracted Leia's ire, hesitated. His hesitation turned into a stunned silence, a stillness engendered by the sudden comprehension of how the Noghri had chosen to address Leia.

"Force thing, Han," she replied angrily, her baleful gaze locked onto the spirit's form.

"What? Now? But it was just getting good!" Han exclaimed. With a sigh, he lowered his pistol and moved to stand beside her, pointedly ignoring the protective form of the Noghri. Though their unlikely protector's hiss sent a shiver down his spine, Han focused his attention on Leia, running a soothing hand down her back.

Leia, despite her anger, blushed at Han's blunt words, but the reaction of Anakin Skywalker's ghost wasn't nearly so tame.

"By the Force, you really went to Jabba's to rescue this cretin? Have you no sense!? Do you even know what that slug would've done to you? I blame your brother for this, he should've known better than to allow you to put yourself in such danger. Bail Organa would be rolling in his grave right now if he saw you with this...this...Corellian!" the Force spirit roared.

Han, of course, didn't so much as blink, unable to hear the Force ghost's enraged words and was still trying to capture her attention with a light shake of her shoulder

Leia's mouth dropped open and rage boiled within her. Shoving Han and the startled Noghri aside, she jabbed a finger in the spirit's direction. "Do not dare speak my father's name! You have no right to be here, Vader! I told you I didn't want you here and if I want to kriff Han, or every man and woman on the planet, then it's my choice and you have no say in it!" Leia shouted.

"I am your father," Anakin told her sternly. "Of course, I get a say."

Taking another step forward, Leia jabbed the air again with a finger. With a snarl, she snapped, "the only father I have is Bail Organa, the most honorable and decent man that I've ever known, whom you and your precious Empire destroyed along with the rest of Alderaan. He was my father! You? You're just a bad memory that lingers like a foul smell."

"Ah. Ah...one of those Force things," Han concluded, nodding solemnly. His expression was that of a man torn between wanting to run away and wanting to grab a snack to eat while watching the drama play out. Choosing to make the wiser choice, Han coughed and gave her a wave. "I'll give you and the old man some time and you'll excuse me if I ask you not to 'kriff every man and woman on the planet' just so you can stick it to Mr. Dark and Gloomy."

Leia turned to Han and growled.

Han's eyebrows rose and his mouth quirked. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was just enough to raise Leia's hackles and Han damn well knew it. The bastard still thinks he's getting lucky tonight, Leia thought with an inward, humorless chuckle. As entertaining as their sex was when they were both riled up, the idea of Vader watching them made Luke's ongoing transformation into a celebrate hermit look downright appealing. In her peripheral vision, Leia observed her lover tapping the Noghri's shoulder and nodding to the door, murmuring something as they exited the suite.

"Why are you here?" Leia hissed, the moment the door had closed. "I told you to stay away. Go disappear, go poof!"

The spirit of Anakin Skywalker froze and suddenly looked embarrassed. "Look, I know you don't want to see me, you made that clear the last time I came. But..." Anakin trailed off, the sheepish expression becoming more apparent on his blue, shimmering visage. The ghost looked down and mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said I lost a bet," Anakin replied, crossing his arms defensively.

Leia stared at him.

"You're dead, Vader, who are you making bets with and on what?" Leia demanded.

The spirit mumbled another string of unintelligible words, looking even more embarrassed.

"This time in proper Basic, please," Leia growled. "Honestly, you were a Sith Lord, spit it out already."

Anakin blew out an aggravated breath. "Master Yoda, Obi-Wan and I placed bets on when the first assassination attempt on Luke would be. My being here is the price for losing that bet."

Looking aghast, Leia's face turned red with anger as she spread her arms wide in exasperation. "You were betting on when someone would try to kill your own son? What the kriff is wrong with you!?"

The ghost shook his head frantically. "It wasn't my idea, it was Obi-Wan's! And you should be thankful it's me, by the way, Luke's receiving a visit from the troll. Yoda said that he'd teach Luke something useful, but I'm not holding my breath."

Leia stared at him, her face twisting in a sour expression. "Did you manifest here, at that time, for the sole purpose of driving Han away?" Leia asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"No!" Anakin hastily denied.

Hearing the obvious 'yes' in the response, Leia glared at the blueish spirit. "So, can you leave yet?"

The Force ghost shook his head, "Obi-Wan will tell me when. Until then, Daughter, you're stuck with me."

"I'm not your—" Leia made herself stop, groaning in frustration. "Fine, then let's start with this. Why did you do this to Luke? How can you possibly think making him the Emperor is wise?" she finally asked. The whiplash of emotions she'd felt in the last few minutes were taking a toll on her, leaving her feeling drained. Yet, as her mind cleared itself of the lingering desire, the rage and the pain, her ability to appreciate the benefits of the spirit's presence grew. "Please tell me you didn't consider it a 'gift' that he might enjoy."

"No, of course not." The ghost of Anakin Skywalker edged closer until he sat on the edge of the bed, no more than a meter away from her.

That mere was far too close for Leia's taste, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her retreat.

"I've never been a firm believer in the Republic, Daughter, not even as a Jedi, fighting to defend it during the Clone Wars. Even now, the idea of the Empire appeals to me and Luke... Luke represents a chance to turn it into something good, something that might make up for the shortfalls of both Palpatine's dark empire and the Republic's corruption and ineffectiveness. He deserves happiness and so much more, and I'm aware that this path I've set him upon is one filled with hardship. But this is something—"

"You're choosing his destiny for him—"

"His destiny has been mapped out since he was an infant, Leia, both his and yours. Never were your destinies your own." Anakin breathed out harshly, shoulders slumping. "And that's my fault."

Leia stared at the spirit for a moment. "You weren't acting this way the last time you manifested."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "The last time I was trying to be someone I'm not, someone I thought you might be willing to accept. The man before you is the man I've always been."

"Sure, if you're willing to forget 20-year hiatus you spent destroying the Jedi, murdering children, destroying planets and—" Leia closed her mouth with a snap, shaking her head in frustration. Bickering like this was beneath her and he wasn't worth it.

"Yes, aside from that," Anakin whispered, looking down to avoid her gaze.

"Why did General Kenobi want you to speak with me?" Leia asked when the awkward silence became unbearable.

"Until you make some sort of peace with me, or your heritage, you'll never be able to be trained in the ways of the Force. While your control of your emotions is impressive, it is not control that allows a Jedi to find the serenity needed to remain grounded within the light side of the Force."

"I have no desire to become a Jedi," Leia grated, "that is Luke's path, not mine. I've made that clear, repeatedly."

"Luke's path will not be so simple as that, Leia, and you know that, I think. I believe him to be capable of ruling the Empire justly, but doing so will require him to find a different kind of balance within himself. His duties will not grant him the freedom and time necessary to begin instructing a new generation of Jedi; he needs you, Leia." Anakin looked at her with a discomforting intensity a pleading look that made her want to turn away. Seeming to mull over his own words, his words continued hesitatingly. "You do not have to become a Jedi to learn the ways of the Force, but you must learn those ways. The Force will always be there, Leia, and those untrained and unaware are particularly susceptible to falling under the sway of the dark side. There will always be a need for the Jedi, if for no other reason than to counter those who've fallen to the dark side."

The spirit lifted a hand, looking as if he wanted to touch her but he hurriedly dropped it when she shifted away. "Luke will be there to guide you, but the responsibility for restoring the Order now falls upon you both. I know this isn't what you wanted—"

"And how could you possibly know what I want?" Leia asked scornfully. She might've said more had he not given her the saddest smile she'd ever seen. It made her stop and really look at the man next to her, the man who'd enslaved a galaxy, the man who'd saved her brother.

"You may find it hard to believe, Leia, but I know more about young, passionate female royalty turned obstinate, idealistic senators than you could possibly imagine." Anakin's words were thick, almost choked out with an overpowering sense of regret that required no sense of Force-sensitivity to feel. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "we all have our own path to take, but never think that the Force won't be guiding you, whispering to you. Do you think it chance that the droids carrying the Death Star plans just happened to be captured by Jawas, just happened to be sold to the Lars family whose deaths left the droids and plans in Luke's possession? Luke, the pilot who shot the Death Star, the pilot whose identity changed everything. Never believe, Leia, that the Force is merely a tool to be used; it is so much bigger than you can possibly imagine."


"Smaller."

Luke let out a small breath and pictured himself, the essence within him shrinking.

"Smaller."

Frowning, Luke furrowed his brow and focused on the image of his presence and made it even smaller, as small as Yoda himself."

There was a quiet 'harrumph.' "Smaller."

Luke smiled, hearing the irritated and aggrieved note in his master's voice. His focus wavered but he cleared his mind and concentrated. He pictured his presence becoming smaller, the size of a pebble, now.

"Smaller."

Then he was the size of a molecule. It was too much; he lost sight of himself then, lost the image he'd conjured and with it his new understanding and appreciation for the complexities of the Force. He started anew, the dozenth time he'd attempted to follow Yoda's instructions and reach the "smallness" his former master had demanded. An indeterminable amount of time passed before he'd once again captured his own essence and focused upon it, molded it and shrank it until it was that molecule-sized speck of himself that glowed with the Force.

He took a deep, calming breath, holding it in for a count of five before breathing it out in a long exhalation. He focused on his essence, on that part deep within him and shrank it even further. Now it was the size of an atom and he gritted his teeth with the effort of trying to hold the shape of something shapeless on a level of existence he'd never truly imagined. Another long exhalation of breath and he felt something within him unknot, his presence within the Force shaping to his will, diminishing to something microscopic, something nearly undetectable.

"With focus and patience, a powerful skill this is."

Luke slowly opened his eyes to meet the serene gaze of his master, forehead beading with sweat as he focused on the atom that was his own essence. Once, Luke might've been tempted to dismiss Yoda's claim or to demand an immediate clarification on Yoda's cryptic explanation. After everything he'd been through, after all that he'd learned about himself and about the Force, Luke was able to hold back and consider Yoda's words.

"Was this how the Emperor kept himself hidden from the Jedi?" he finally asked.

Yoda nodded gravely. "Many ways of concealing one's presence, there are. This one, among others, he used." Yoda's ears sagged with the weight of past mistakes and regret. "A cunning and powerful Sith, Darth Sidious had become. Possessed a singular mastery for deception and stealth, he did."

Yoda adding nothing more, just continued to stare at him expectantly with those ageless eyes.

"Healing," Luke blurted. "it can help heal, it's how I was able to find those parasites Nereus had infected me with."

Yoda tapped his gimer stick on the floor with an affirmative grunt; it was still the intimidating gesture it'd been on Dagobah and Luke fought the urge to rub his shin, despite knowing that the stick lacked physical form. "Very good, young Skywalker, very good. Allowed you to find a wrongness within yourself, it did, but a form of attack, it can be too," the diminutive Jedi added, words quiet and caution.

Luke's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Focusing on yourself, your essence, to manipulate, you have begun to master. Upon others, this skill may also be used. Delve deep within another and manipulate their body, you may. A difficult task, this is and one that treads upon the dark side."

The very idea of being able to reach into someone else and disable or kill them made Luke shiver. The concept of using the Force to incapacitate someone was nothing new; he himself had used it to choke the Gamorrean guards at Jabba's palace into unconsciousness. But this was something very different, not some blunt application of the Force to restrict someone's windpipe, rather it was an internal manipulation of the body itself. With enough time and focus, could he manipulate the air within the person's blood to create an embolism? Pinch a vital artery shut? Stop the beating of someone's heart or even prevent the blood within their veins from flowing?

Kreth! Luke shivered again at the idea of using this new skill in such a manner. Master Yoda's warning was well understood; the power it granted over others would be a dangerous lure for the dark side.

"More applications in combat, there are, young Skywalker. With discipline and great focus, a defense against attacks of the mind, it can be."

Yoda paused and Luke didn't need prompting to know that his master expected him to work out the issue as he had before. This had been a fundamental aspect of Yoda's lessons on Dagobah; Yoda would impart an idea, a concept, give him the barest details of the process and let him run with it. It was about belief, it'd always been about belief. The moment Master Yoda had raised his X-Wing from the waters of Dagobah and revealed that his lack of faith, self-confidence, and belief had been the reason for his failure, something had clicked within him. That lesson continued to carry him forward in learning the ways of the Force.

The physical application of this "Art of the Small" that Yoda was teaching him hadn't been difficult to grasp, not in light of his brush with the skill above Bakura with the parasites, but what Yoda suggested...

After more than an hour of fruitless meditation on the idea, Luke finally opened his eyes and gave his master a helpless look.

Yoda sighed. "Limited training of the mind, you possess. My own fault, this is."

Luke opened his mouth to object when Yoda scowled at him, soundlessly banging the floor with his gimer stick again. He closed his mouth with a snap.

"Altering the minds of the weak-minded, sensing the emotions of others, basic skills they are. Many forms of mental attack, there are. Those most subtle, often the greatest danger, they are. Those that rely on force, to damage, to kill, to incapacitate, also dangerous, but easily detectable, they are." Yoda once again fell silent, waiting.

"This skill would provide protection from the latter," Luke said slowly.

"Perceive a mental attack as a great hand reaching for you and easily evaded if small you become, yes? A similar lesson my foes learned when my defeat by lightsaber, they sought." Yoda gave one of those cackling laughs that used to make Luke question the Jedi Master's sanity.

"A powerful skill, this is, young Skywalker. Meditate, focus, and feel the Force, Luke, and no master will you ever need to teach you what your meditations cannot," Yoda told him gravely.

Luke snorted. "That's a load of bantha fodder."

Yoda gave another mad cackle. "A teacher, I am, young Skywalker. A crutch, I am not. Teach you many things, I may, but more must you learn for yourself."

"I will do this, Master," Luke smiled. "I will see the Jedi returned."

Yoda smiled, ears pricking upright. "Believe that, I do. Always will the Force be with you, my apprentice."

The specter of the Jedi Master slowly faded from sight, leaving Luke alone in a bedroom that now felt darker and lonelier. He sighed as a pang of melancholy rang through him at the loss of his master. Yoda may have physically perished more than a month ago, but seeing him become one with the Force was proving to be just as painful the second time.

Easing from his sitting position, he made his way through the darkness and collapsed his bed. He reminded himself to ask Leia about the shouting he'd heard earlier, but the thought slipped away from his grasp as his exhausted mind descended into oblivion.


The next morning

Han huffed out a laugh, pointing a fork at the yawning, shambling form that'd just emerged from the adjacent bedroom. "You look like crap," Han observed cheerfully.

"So, does the Falcon but you don't see me teasing you," Luke mumbled, making his way toward the large, marbled glass dining table. He promptly took a seat, groaned, and let his head drop onto the table. Hearing Leia's snort of amusement, he slowly raised it back up to glare at her. He contemplated making a snide comment but abandoned it both out of a healthy sense of self-preservation as well as the distraction provided by the food arrangement he'd only now noticed. Eyes fastening onto a plate of fresh namana pastries that Gaeri must have had brought up to them, he picked one up and eagerly took a bite. If she'd been present, Luke would've asked Gaeri to marry him then and there and damn the consequences.

"So, you had a visitor?" Leia inquired. Sitting opposite Luke, she stared at him as she spoke in a tone that was a little too calm before setting her glass of tea upon the table with a little too much force.

Luke's body stilled, the pastry he'd grabbed hanging in midair, mere centimeters away from his mouth as his eyes met those of his sister's. "I'm guessing I wasn't the only one," he finally said and took a moment to gauge his sister's mood. Hurt, confused and angry brown eyes was all he needed to understand. "Father came to visit you again?"

Leia scowled, her expression the only confirmation she'd offer and the only one that was needed.

"Ah," he said lamely, unable to find anything else to say that wouldn't irritate his sister further. Giving her a weak smile, he tentatively offered, "Master Yoda came to visit me."

"I know," Leia snarled, "apparently they were on the losing end of a bet on when someone would first try to kill you."

"Ah." A man of great eloquence, that was him.

Han chuckled. "Your family is delightful, kid."

Leia swung her head toward Han with near comical slowness before she kicked Han's shin with her bare foot. Han shrugged unapologetically, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth. They spent a few moments in silence, eating and ruminating on the evening's events. Han and Luke exchanged a glance establishing an unspoken, mutual agreement to not bring up Anakin Skywalker in the immediate future.

"So, what are we going to do today?" the Corellian asked, unable to tolerate the silence that was stretching dangerously close to the "awkward" stage.

"The same thing we do every day, Han, try to take over the galaxy," Luke replied with a tired half-smile. "We just have a little more firepower backing us up now. Supposedly."

"I'll throw myself in a sarlacc before I bow and call you 'Your Majesty', fair warning," Han warned, shaking a finger. "1000 years of being digested has nothing on bowing to a kid who still has an unhealthy fascination with water and spends most of his time thinking about his feelings."

"Han!" Leia smacked Han's arm, scowling at her lover.

"I don't ever want you to do that, Han," Luke said quietly. Suddenly feeling nauseous, Luke put his food down and looked away. "And I really don't want this."

"Aw, kid," Han offered him an apologetic smile. "I know, I'm sorry."

"We both know you don't want this, Luke, and so does your father—" Leia began but was interrupted.

"Our father, Leia," Luke challenged.

"Not now, kid," Han muttered.

Leia's lips thinned. "He knows you don't want this, but he thinks you're one of the few that can. Mon was right; if the Empire fractured apart, it'd merely be a matter of time until the Alliance rose in its place, but a lot of people would be hurt if we had to do it system after system, sector after sector. He thinks that if you can pull this off, you can save a lot of lives, keep the infrastructure from collapsing, and mold the Empire into something the Alliance could work with."

Luke bowed his head, eyes cinched shut. "I'm not really sure I—" He made himself stop, shaking his head in frustration.

"Hey!" Han burst out. "That reminds me! Speaking of Darth Dad, you wouldn't believe the stories Piett's clonetrooper has of your father and Kenobi! Commander Cody used to work directly for Kenobi; just let me tell you about Cato Neimoidia!"


Three hours later

"To what extent can you speak for the Alliance, Your Highness? Do you have the authority to negotiate on their behalf?" Admiral Piett asked, glancing across the table at the white-gowned profile of Leia Organa.

"I can negotiate for the Alliance, Admiral; any agreement we make here will be binding," Leia replied calmly.

Both Piett and Leia turned to Luke.

Luke sat still, eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, he reached out, letting the Force infuse him searching for its guidance. Is this the right thing to do? he thought, hoping to receive some sort of sign, some sort of reassurance that he wasn't going to make a terrible mistake.

"I have faith in you, my son."

Luke let the whisper linger in his mind, savoring the rich sound of his father's voice before opening his eyes. Giving the Imperial officer a steady look, he nodded slowly. "Yes, Admiral, I'll go back with you to Coru—Imperial Center. I will accede to your request and accept my father's will."

Piett's expression didn't change, but Luke felt the man's relief intermixed with dread upon his agreement. Luke almost sympathized for him, but just the sight of the man's olive-green uniform was a reminder of his new future.

The Axxilan admiral breathed out slowly. "It would be better if we departed sooner, rather than later, Commander Skywalker. Imperial Center is now a contested system and I should like to have my fleet there to defend it. I know little of the man your father left to command its defense, only that Lord Vader respected him in a way he did few others. But however capable that man may be, the lure of an empty throne will continue to attract others and he can prevail for only so long."

"Who did Lord Vader leave in command?" Leia wondered.

"Thrawn. Grand Admiral Thrawn."


Twenty-one days after BoE
Aboard the Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer Admonitor
Coruscant system, Corusca sector

"I do not like this idea of fleeing," Captain Dagon Niriz growled.

His first officer grimaced, but said nothing, staring at the holoprojection of the system as if to divine a solution to their predicament.

"That would be because you're thinking with your pride, my good captain," a cold voice answered. "If you believe that I have somehow surrendered to what Admiral Zsinj perceives as inevitable, then you are sorely mistaken."

"There aren't many safe hyperspace routes from this part of the system, not with the asteroid cloud and the damn moons' mass shadows," Captain Voss Parck observed. Nodding slowly, he raised an eyebrow at the Grand Admiral. "By coming here, you trap us in the system but also force him to come to us."

"If we were simply to retreat into the safety of hyperspace, Admiral Zsinj would let us go without so much as a second glance. By remaining here, our presence remains a constant threat which might strike whenever his back is turned. We are, therefore, an enemy to be hunted." Steepling his blue fingers and gazing at the projection through narrowed red eyes, Grand Admiral Thrawn let out a satisfied sigh at the movement of the projected ships.

Mitth'raw'nuruodo, or Thrawn to those outside of the Ascendancy, raised a single blue-black eyebrow at his captain. "Zsinj, for all the admittedly impressive power he's brought to bear, is a relatively simple man. Make no mistake, he is one of the more intelligent and capable officers serving the Empire, yet without time to plan, his strategy often devolves into tactics largely dependent on brute force. Tell me, Captain, how much do you know about Maarisa Zsinj?"

Niriz blinked at the seemingly non sequitur. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that name."

"His mother, Captain Niriz, she was Admiral Zsinj's mother. She was greatly respected and admired during your Clone Wars, Captain, however her position became tenuous and her role diminished as the increasingly misogynistic policies of the Empire gradually shuffled her aside. Though I have sympathy for her plight, she chose to take her ship and break with the Empire, preying upon Imperial vessels to fight what she perceived to be corruption. As a result, our friend, Admiral Zsinj, was given the task of hunting her down, and hunt her down he did, ruthlessly pursuing her until she was dead by his orders."

Captain Parck stared at him. "His own mother?"

Thrawn ignored the outraged question. "His campaign was as brutal as it was well-executed, and it was unfortunate that his mother had to learn how indiscriminately her son took pleasure in his hunts. Given superior firepower, Admiral Zsinj enjoys herding his enemies with moderately intelligent, but unimaginative tactics; I am merely playing to his expectations of facing a weaker foe."

"Then you've successfully appealed to his baser instincts and lured him into a trap? Grand Admiral, this is all well and good, but this trap, lacks teeth. All but two of the system defense fleet ships have been destroyed and our own losses..." Dagon Niriz shook his head angrily. "Sir, we have a Super Star Destroyer bearing down on us that hasn't taken significant damage since the battle for the system began. Even now, the cruisers that Admiral Zsinj left orbiting Imperial Center are landing troops on the capital!" the Admonitor's captain spat out, face red with anger.

Unperturbed, Grand Admiral Thrawn raised a single blue-skinned hand, halting the man's words. "Calm down, Captain. You believe we've lost most of our fleet? They were not lost, Captain Niriz, they were spent. The difference is a matter of choice; the ships I chose to lose were ones whose complements of troops had already landed onto Imperial Center. I chose ships that were operated by skeleton crews, placing them in the most vulnerable positions within the fleet. Lives and ships spent, Captain, not lost. That which you, and Admiral Zsinj, believe our fleet to have lost have in truth merely been reallocated."

"Perhaps Imperial Center is safe then, for the moment, but what of the Iron Fist? Reallocated resources or not, it's still a Super Star Destroyer," Parck noted, glancing at the projection of Zsinj's pursuing forces.

Thrawn smiled coolly, red eyes gleaming in the dim light. "It's fascinating to see your reactions to our predicament, for though you see a monstrous leviathan preparing to engulf us, I merely see a target of unusual size chasing us in a predictable route giving us every opportunity to destroy it." Thrawn's smile grew wider. "Captain Niriz, the devices we were able to appropriate from the Ebruchi pirates during our last encounter, you remember them?"

Niriz's eyebrows shot up. "Of course, Grand Admiral, impressive pieces of work, even if the damn cloaking devices do require an absurd amount of power."

"Indeed, Captain, such a power draw means their effectiveness in battle would be minimal at best. However, it was to our benefit that Admiral Piett was considerate enough to leave several of his most damaged ships, ships barely serviceable...but with intact reactors."

"Those ships were destroyed almost immediately—"

Thrawn leaned forward, a hand raised to again halt the captain's words. "No, Captain, they were spent."

Turning away from the projection, he made his way from the front viewport to the command chair, taking a seat and assuming a relaxed position. Eyes locked upon the projection, Thrawn pressed a small button on a keypad along the arm of the chair. "Lieutenant Klar, have you completed your assignment?"

"Yes, Grand Admiral, we've completed our task and activated the systems. Specter Squadron is standing by as ordered."

Voss Parck raised an eyebrow, looking hopeful for the first time in days. Crossing his arms, he offered a hesitant smile, "I look forward to being amazed once again, Grand Admiral."

"Yes, quite," Captain Niriz added, staring back at him with doubtful eyes.

Ever the more skeptical of the two, it wasn't surprising that Niriz remained so dubious. Ignoring the man's skepticism, Thrawn merely smiled. "Captain Niriz, please inform me when the Iron Fist passes point Theta-Epsilon Seven, as outlined on the grid." The Grand Admiral pressed another button on his chair. "Commander Takam, you are to gradually cut 10% of your engine power and destabilize your containment fields. Take appropriate precautions for radiation poisoning from the hypermatter reactor. You are to order your men to abandon ship in..."

Niriz, seeing Thrawn's expectant look, hurriedly glanced at the hologrid. Looking back, he met Thrawn's gaze and reported, "estimated time of convergence at 165 seconds."

"...in 90 seconds," Thrawn finished.

There was a long pause before Commander Takam acknowledged his orders with a solemn, "Yes, Grand Admiral, it will be done."

Releasing the comm button, Thrawn turned to meet his two most trusted subordinates' shuttered expressions. Leaning forward, he spoke quietly, "nothing attracts a predator like downed prey, gentlemen, and the Stalwart is now serving that role. My plan will succeed, provided that it's executed within a limited amount of time."

Niriz glanced at the display and let out a breath, eyes widening. "Iron Fist has increased speed...as has its escorts."

Thrawn tilted his head and frowned. "Our enemy is not the Super Star Destroyer, Captain Niriz, it is the man that commands it. As I stated before, Admiral Zsinj, though intelligent, is unimaginative and brutish and therefore predictable so long as he believes he holds the advantage. Time until convergence, Captain Parck?"

"The Stalwart is launching escape pods, estimated time with enemy fleet's adjusted speed now...45 seconds," Voss announced.

The blue-skinned admiral smiled and tapped a key. "Lieutenant Karl, you may proceed. Evacuate to safety the moment you've disengaged the safeties."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

"Iron Fist is firing, targeting Stalwart's escape pods," a bridge officer in the crew pit announced, voice grim.

"Lives spent," Thrawn repeated softly.

"20 seconds," Niriz murmured.

They watched as the escape pods launched by the Stalwart were picked off by the Iron Fist and its escorts. One by one, disappearing under a hail of emerald turbolaser fire, the evacuating crewman of the Stalwart were vaporized along with their escape pods.

"Three...two...one...mark!" Niriz announced emotionlessly.

Nothing happened.

"Grand Admiral?" Niriz asked, turning around with gritted teeth.

There was a shudder in the ship then, and Captain Niriz glanced back around just in time to witness the blackness of space turn abruptly white. Officers on the bridge reflexively shielded their eyes, waiting until the transparisteel polarized before looking out again.

A stunned, profound silence filled the bridge as officers checked and double-checked their sensors to confirm what they saw, or rather, what they didn't see.

Thrawn stood from his command chair and cleared his throat. "Reverse course, scan for any escape pods from the Stalwart and should any of Admiral Zsinj's ships be intact, destroy them. Then put us on course for Imperial Center if you please, Ensign. Though the larger threat has been eliminated, the battle for Imperial Center is not yet over."

"Grand Admiral?" Niriz asked, shaking his head in confusion and awe.

Turning to Niriz and Parck, Thrawn offered them each a slight smile. "The salvaged hypermatter reactors taken from Admiral Piett's damaged ships had no difficulty powering the cloaking devices, Captain. Nor was it difficult for Lieutenant Klar's Specter Squadron to assist the Covus in attaching the powered cloaking devices to a handful of the larger asteroids in this region of the system and maneuvering them into a preset position. After Lieutenant Karl disengaged the safeties and increased the power draw of the reactors, it was merely a matter of timing to ensure Zsinj was caught in the blast radius when they overloaded. Zsinj was defeated by his own overconfidence and his unwillingness to see beyond what was there in front of him."

The art of one's home is often a way to understand another, in this case however, I was forced to improvise without having the proper time to examine the Fondorian statues that I've heard much about.

Thrawn took a step and paused. "Ah, one more thing. Captain Parck, upon our return to Imperial Center, you are to obtain samples of art that originate from Tatooine at your earliest convenience. Or anything that might approximate art, in any case. There is another person whom I wish to understand better, and it is yet to be determined whether he is an ally or a foe."


Twenty-seven days after BoE
Salis D'aar, Bakura

"Commander Skywalker, with your agreement to accompany my task force to Imperial Center with the express intention of fulfilling your father's will and assuming the Imperial throne, the question of logistics remains. Furthermore, with the framework for a temporary ceasefire with the Alliance of Free Planets established, it is the Empire which you must now turn your attention to," Admiral Piett informed Luke gravely.

"Starting with how you want to travel to Coruscant in the first place," Leia nodded.

Luke grimaced. "Your earlier reservations for my dropping out of hyperspace around Imperial Center aboard an Alliance ship is well and truly understood. Just as I'm sure you understand my own hesitance in taking up residence on an Imperial star cruiser. Your own intentions may be honest, Admiral, but I doubt that yesterday's incident will be the only attempt on my life."

Piett's pained expression was the admiral's only acknowledgement. "You will have the Noghri, Commander, and I assure you they are more than capable of guarding you should your own abilities falter."

"But I don't know them," Luke insisted, hoping his objection wasn't perceived as whining. It was true though; Noghri or no Noghri, the idea of being alone in the midst of thousands of Imperial troops was enough to make him break out into a cold sweat.

He looked over his shoulder at Meewalh, who'd remained as still as a statue for the better part of two days. She and the other two Noghri were the only ones serving as security within the building, which had seemed about as neutral of an arrangement as possible. Page and his commandos were enjoying the amenities of Bakura while the stormtroopers were off doing...stormtrooper-y things that hopefully didn't include terrorizing and/or massacring the locals.

"I'm confident of your skills, Meewalh," Luke told the Noghri, "I merely—"

The Noghri, blinking at having been so directly addressed, held up a hand to forestall Luke's explanation. "You wish to be among your own clan, for protection and for companionship. It is understood, Lord Vad—Commander Skywalker."

There was a collective wince at the name Meewalh had clearly been prepared to address Luke by.

"Bringing your own staff or bodyguards wouldn't be unexpected or insulting by Imperial standards, especially with circumstances being as they are," Baron Fel stated quietly, breaking the awkward silence.

"It might be nice visiting Coruscant again," Lando murmured contemplatively, "you know, without having to dodge bounty hunters and blow up crime lords."

Piett curled a lip. "Xizor's death was inevitable the moment he ignored Lord Vader's warning to stay away from Commander Skywalker." The admiral shook his head, "I have no sympathy for either him or his Black Sun cohorts. In fact, General Calrissian, I'd even go so far as to offer you my thanks for dealing with that scum."

Lando's lopsided smile was genuine but rather than soaking up the praise like Luke halfway expected, the former smuggler merely shrugged. "It was a team effort."

"Lando?" Luke asked hesitantly, an idea slowly coalescing in his mind. "You're familiar enough with politics and bureaucracy, you're good in a fight and I trust you, would you be willing to come with me?" He felt ridiculous asking the question, embarrassed as if he were back on Tatooine, still the farmboy whose ability to ask girls out on a date verged on disgraceful. Nevertheless, he forced the question out and waited.

Lando Calrissian gave him a sharp look but didn't immediately say 'no'. Piett's face looked particularly pained at the idea; Luke guessed his displeasure had something to do with Lando's former occupation of smuggling illegal goods. Han was looking at him as if he'd done something unimaginably stupid while Leia merely seemed pensive, which was about as positive of a reaction as Luke had expected.

Turning to Leia, Lando raised a single eyebrow while stroking his immaculate mustache. "What would the Alliance's reaction be if I did so, Princess? If anyone went with Luke for that matter?"

Drumming her fingers on the table, the Princess tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed in thought. She said nothing for a time, just tapped her fingers rhythmically. Finally, she spoke in a hesitant, halting manner as if testing the truth of her own words. "I don't believe it would be a problem for you, you're relatively new to the Alliance without any specifically assigned duties, but I believe High Command would require some oversight on the matter. Handing over Alliance officers to the Empire who may or may not possess valuable information would be something of a concern. No offense, Admiral."

Piett dipped his head, evidently content to observe the Alliance decision-making process with what felt like a weary tolerance. Luke supposed that from his point of view, the Empire clearly held an advantage in getting things done without undue fuss. Luke couldn't disagree with the assessment; the primary problem with the Empire, aside from the foundation from whence it'd sprang, had always been the people behind those decisions.

That, Luke now understood, was the reason for his father ordering all those people killed. His father had given him a blank canvas to create something of his own without worrying about the corruption or backstabbing of Palpatine's favored servants lingering as a constant, dormant threat. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the number of people killed for that reason, but having finally met the Emperor, Luke had far less sympathy for those serving him willingly or actively seeking to ingratiate themselves before him.

Luke's dark thoughts were interrupted when a hand jostled his arm, making him twitch in surprise. Though it'd been Wedge who'd given him the firm shake, his friend had turned to address the others present.

"You know," Wedge began, a corner of his mouth curling up, "Luke...well...he gets into a lot of trouble. He probably would've been shot down or captured ages ago given how much of a magnet for danger he is. But see, luckily for him there were people who had his back."

"No," Leia said flatly.

"Perhaps you're being too hasty, Princess," Tycho Celchu replied respectfully.

"Indeed, Captain Celchu, indeed," Wedge nodded approvingly. "These people—"

"These dashing, wonderful, brave and beautiful people," Tycho interjected.

"—have all proven their loyalty to Commander Skywalker and can certainly provide the companionship he deserves," Wedge finished, crossing his arms defiantly and raising a challenging eyebrow at Leia. "He understands us, Princess, and without him..."

"We're just not complete," Tycho murmured, glancing down with a crestfallen expression.

Luke inwardly groaned; Tycho and Wedge must've talked about this beforehand and had somehow concluded that Wedge's unspoken proposition was a good idea. The idea of surrounding himself with Rogue Squadron was normally a pleasant one, but add a cruiser full of grumpy stormtroopers and resentful Naval officers into the equation and you'd end up with, well, nothing good.

"I believe it could work," Baron Fel added abruptly. "The 181st is currently stationed aboard the Chimaera, I believe Major Phennir and the others would be delighted to teach Rogue Squadron how to properly fly."

Wedge gasped.

Tycho gasped and placed a hand against his heart with a wounded expression.

"Ooh, you really did it now, Soontir," Han cooed.

Fel shrugged and made a show of buffing his nails against his olive-green uniform jacket while inspecting his gleaming medals and campaign pins.

Piett stared at his subordinate with a look that could easily be defined as "Who are you and what have you done with Colonel Fel? How can you support this travesty of an idea? Are you insane?"

It was a very expressive look.

"High Command will discuss it, Commander Antilles," Leia said tightly, clearing her throat to get their attention. She then turned to Admiral Piett, "As far as I'm concerned, our work here is mostly complete. Commander Skywalker will go with you to your flagship, accompanied by Alliance personnel unspecified as of yet."

"The Empire," Piett replied, looking about as unenthused as a man possibly could, "will officially recognize the Alliance of Free Planets as a lawful, but transitional entity. Any restructuring of the Alliance for the purpose of establishing a permanent government will result in all agreements becoming invalid within a standard galactic year unless renegotiated."

"And in turn, the Alliance will sign a treaty of nonaggression with any Imperial controlled system that recognizes Commander Skywalker as the Empire's lawful head of state. Planets that fail to do so, or that violate the preestablished war crimes article of the treaty, will be considered valid targets for the Alliance. Our agreement extends to first, the Alliance of Free Planets, and second, any governing body that is established as a result of a formal restructuring," Leia finished.

Han, who'd been humming in thought, slapped the table surface lightly and waved a hand at the Imperial admiral and then at Leia. "You're going to need a more direct, secure line of communication to help keep everyone honest," Han pointed out. "Not to mention a backdoor for Luke in case things go sour."

"While I normally don't consort with smugglers and their ilk—" Piett began, then paused and cast an apologetic look at Han and Lando, "no offense."

"I don't like smugglers either," Han replied blandly.

Lando shrugged, "can't stand the scum."

"Dishonest, thieving lowlifes," Han nodded.

Leia had to turn away to hide her smile and Luke was pretty sure a corner of Piett's mouth quirked, but it was hard to imagine the self-contained man possessing that much of a sense of humor.

"As I said, normally I don't employ their services, but there is a smuggler—more of an information broker, really—who seems unusually scrupulous and frighteningly competent. He's also been rather fervent about remaining independent in the midst of our...conflict. Were he to agree, I think he might fill that role quite effectively, General Solo," Piett declared.

"You're talking about Karrde, aren't you?" Lando asked, eyes widening.

Piett's eyebrows rose. "I'm surprised you know of him. I've been told he keeps a low profile, but yes, that's whom I'm referring to."

"Not a whole lotta smugglers out there with as good of a rep as his. I only know him because he approached me several years back to recruit me for his organization. Good man, brilliant, good smuggler, I'd trust his word more than I'd trust my own," Lando informed Leia with an approving nod.

"There are so many places I could take that," Han grumbled.

"Very well," Leia nodded firmly. "Then I propose we make our return to Endor within the next day. The list of personnel accompanying Skywalker will be finalized within 24 hours of arriving back at Endor."

Piett opened his mouth, paused and turned to Luke, evidently awaiting his permission.

Luke winced. "I'm still only 'Commander Skywalker' for now, Admiral, but yes, that's agreeable."

"Of course," Piett acknowledged, but Luke could practically see the man adding a mental, "Your Majesty," at the end.

Ugh, Luke thought mournfully, Imps.


Author's Notes: I hope that beginning scene wasn't too racy for you folks. I was trying to think of a way to introduce Anakin's ghost to Leia without it being overly angsty. So, it's a little goofy, maybe even tripe, but I'd always had this image in my mind of Anakin shaking his head in disappointment every time he looked at Han and Leia as a couple. Also, let's face it, if Anakin hadn't turned to the dark side and everything went smoothly, he totally would've been the kind of dad to interfere in his little princess's relationships.

Hope everyone enjoyed the Thrawn segment. We'll be seeing more of him soon and his own thoughts/motivations will be discussed! In the books, he always came off as something of a teacher to me. In this chapter, Parck and Niriz were serving in Pellaeon's stead as his students. I was somewhat torn here because I wanted to make him smart, clever, and complex while pitting him up against Zsinj. I don't remember Zsinj nearly as well as I do Thrawn, but I do know the guy was smart, but a lot of that cleverness seemed geared toward empire building than strategy and tactics. I wanted to do both characters justice without ever actually introducing Zsinj.

So, I finally figured out the red lightsaber thing. It might've been said elsewhere, but in the Star Wars book Ahsoka, Ahsoka tells Bail Organa that red lightsaber blades are a result of a crystal being corrupted by the dark side. It's a technique often called "making a crystal bleed." Ahsoka got her white lightsabers by taking two corrupted crystals from an Inquisitor and then "purifying" them. It does sort of add a weight to the whole "red lightsaber = bad guy" notion that extends beyond personal color preferences.

Anyone catch the Pinky and the Brain reference or am I actually starting to get old?

I reread my story, Shockwaves of the Unifying Force, the other day and I'm starting to think it deserves a bit of a rewrite. I really like the structure and plot, but I've only just discovered that it's not really the most well-written piece of work I've managed to produce. When I finish Thor's Slayers, I might make revamping that story my new side project.