Millennium Falcon
In hyperspace
3 days later
Han strolled into the main common area. Chewbacca was frowning over the dejarik board, having decided (foolishly) to play against the ship's computer. Naturally, he was losing. Han devoutly hoped he would refrain from bashing critical components of the ship after the match finally ended.
Luke was doing weird things with his lightsaber. That first trip together, the one with old Ben Kenobi, had featured a Han Solo who was very skeptical about the existence of the Force. And even if some esoteric energy field existed, was it reasonable to think that certain rare individuals could somehow manipulate it?
More than a year later, Solo had no doubts about the Force, though he still maintained his skeptical air for the fun of it. Watching the kid now, he was privately astonished at what he was seeing. Luke had a closed helmet over his face, blinding him, and yet was deftly blocking shots with his lightsaber from not one but two seekers.
Yes, the Force was real, and some people were in touch with it, and Luke Skywalker was improving in his ability to master the Force for his own purposes.
Given the incredible and terrifying reputation of Luke's father, none of this should have been a big surprise. Nevertheless, Han found himself continually startled. Luke was so real, so down to earth, so normal that it was amazing that he had the potential to telekinetically hurl large rocks through the air or cut down hordes of antagonists with that blue laser sword of his.
At the moment, Luke's ability to do such things was more potential than reality. Yes, he could do a few things, but given how he attracted trouble, Han felt a responsibility to look after his young friend, to keep him safe if he could, and bail him out of trouble if he couldn't. Which was why they needed to talk.
He waited until Luke's sparring session was completed and the youth stood sweating lightly as he hung the helmet up on a hook in the corner.
"Hey Luke, I wanted to talk to you about something."
Luke looked at him curiously, "Sure, what's up?"
"So I've decided Chewie will stay with you while we are on Tatooine. I'll go into Jabba's palace alone."
Luke frowned, "I don't need Chewie, Han. I'm going to just drift into some seedy bar and keep my head down. And Jabba's palace sounds like the kind of place you might need back up."
Solo sighed as he flopped inelegantly on a bench, "Truth is, kid, that there is no such thing as enough backup in Jabba's palace. The place is a roiling maelstrom of bounty hunters, thick headed Gamorreans, and other miscellaneous scum. But in this case, it will either be fine or it won't. Chewie won't be able to help if Jabba gets nasty. I'd rather have him in a safe place with you if negotiations over this bad debt go sour."
Not surprisingly, this backfired, as Chewbacca snarled indignantly about his Life Debt to Han and Luke raised his voice in protest as well. Finally, Han locked himself in his cabin to get away from them, all the while shouting, "You're staying together in Mos Eisley, and that's that!"
/-/
The Executor
Orbiting Imperial Center
Darth Vader stalked into his private chambers.
Or trudged. He rarely trudged, but he felt weary to the bone, and was in considerable pain.
He had missed the first ceremonies of the Empire Day festivities on Alsakan when the mysterious Force disturbance had caused him to delay his departure on Galand. Then after the Fleet had gone to Alsakan, Luke had popped up, then promptly disappeared, from Malastare. And Vader had promptly raced there to follow up on his offspring's activities.
So he had avoided a number of tedious ceremonies, which was all to the good, except that his Master was most displeased with his failure to follow orders and, Vader suspected, with his obsession with his son. Not that Palpatine had remonstrated with him directly about Luke, but there were subtle hints about 'lack of focus' and 'foolish and undesirable emotional weakness' which the junior Sith Lord had heard through the vortex of pain during his discipline.
Because yes, he had just endured punishment at the hands of his Dark Master, two minutes of Force lightning on his mechanized body.
He was in considerable pain and yet he knew that Sidious, being the skilled practitioner of the Dark Side that he was, had controlled the energy blasts to prevent his death or even major damage. He could still walk, still breathe, though his left arm was misbehaving due to electrical damage and he had trouble turning his head to the right. He would need to make repairs immediately.
How he hated Sidious.
Yet he had almost worshipped him for years. Worshipped him, was devoted to him, yet hated him.
Which was as it should be for an apprentice Sith Lord thriving on hatred and ambition and lust for power, but Vader was deeply aware that his son Luke was changing everything. The Dark Lord knew it and felt it, felt the changes in the fabric of the Force, the changes in his own mind and heart and emotions.
It frightened him yet exhilarated him. There was more than Sidious now, more than blind devotion to the man who had turned him to the Dark Side, who had raised him up to a position of great power in the galaxy even while keeping him a slave.
Even while keeping him in invisible chains.
Vader moved slowly into his personal quarters and carefully stepped into his hyperbaric chamber. Groaning softly, he lowered himself into a seated position, then gestured with the Force, causing the robotic arms to lower and carefully remove his helmet from his head.
He closed his weary eyes, leaned back slightly, breathing deeply of the superoxygenated air. He reached out through the Force, seeking power from his own pain and anger and hatred.
And sighed. For the pain was not enough, and the rage and anger were not enough. He was too distracted by his interview with Sidious and his uncertainty about the future.
"I'm sorry, you know," Obi-wan commented suddenly.
Vader sighed again and opened a weary eye. Kenobi was showing up with monotonous regularity.
"Go away, Kenobi."
The glowing old man considered, then nodded, "Very well. But please know I do regret what I did to you on Mustafar. I have spent many years wishing I had made different choices on that fateful day."
Vader hesitated. He wanted Kenobi gone, and yet – this was his opportunity to ask the question that had haunted his days and nights for 21 years.
"Kenobi, how did Padme die?"
He waited and found himself holding his breath (which was possible in the hyperbaric chamber, but not wise considering what a disaster his lungs were.)
He forced himself to breathe evenly as he waited.
The old man in front of him looked steadily and sadly at him, before saying, "I don't really know, Vader."
The Sith Lord shook his head even as his fists clenched, "Don't lie to me."
The spectre shook his head, "I really don't know. I brought her to a top rated medical facility and the med droids gave her the best possible treatment to heal her injuries. They said there was nothing medically wrong with her when she started to fade. They induced labor to save Luke. The droids claimed she lost the will to live, but I don't understand that either. She was one of the strongest willed people I have ever met, and she had a baby who needed her. It was like her life force just drained away."
The Dark Lord turned his head slightly to avoid Kenobi's compassionate gaze. He did not need Kenobi's pity, not for Padme's death, or for his ruined body, or for his barbaric master. Nevertheless…
"You do not believe, then…" he forced himself to keep his voice steady, "that my actions on Mustafar led to her demise."
"No, I don't," Kenobi's response was quick and firm, "What you did was a horrible crime against your wife who loved you passionately and only wanted what was best for you, for everyone. Nevertheless, she was breathing when I returned from… from our duel, though she was unconscious. Luke was born early but healthy; he would not have survived unscathed if she had sustained critical damage at your hands."
Vader clenched his fists again even as he brought them to his face, fighting the convulsive sobs that were even now threatening to wrack his body, "Go!"
Kenobi disappeared.
/-/-
Mos Eisley
Tatooine
2 days later
Luke Skywalker walked rapidly through one of Mos Eisley's narrow streets. The streets were full of robed individuals of a variety of races, ages, and planets of origin. Many, he knew, were (relatively) honest citizens of Tatooine, struggling to scratch a living from Tatooine's harsh climate. And then there were the others - thugs, gangsters, bounty hunters, and various criminals and deadbeats from across the galaxy.
He smiled, thinking of Ben's description of the place as 'a wretched hive of scum and villainy.' A perfect description.
In spite of the teeming crowds this time of the morning, when the suns were barely above the horizon and thus the heat of the day had not struck with full force, Luke was given room to move through the streets thanks to the hulking Wookie striding close behind him.
The youth grinned just a little – Han had won this one. He wanted Luke guarded by Chewbacca, and Chewie safe from danger in Jabba's palace, and finally his companions had submitted with poor grace.
There was a mutter behind him from the Wookie, and Luke turned to see Chewbacca gesture toward a dark brown door. Luke turned and slipped down a couple of stairs into the darkened room. It was a slovenly restaurant by day and a bar by night, though in actual fact not much changed regardless of the time. Luke guessed that he could have anything he wanted to drink, even given the early hour when self-respecting workers were toiling away, not drinking.
Luke slid into a table (with food bits liberally sprinkled across it) next to the back exit. There was another corridor a couple of meters away leading, no doubt, to the public refresher, which meant another possible exit. One learned to pay attention to such things when with the Alliance.
Chewie fit himself into the bench across from Luke with difficulty. Luke had met a number of Wookies in his time with the Alliance and while all were tall, Chewbacca was the tallest Wookie he'd ever seen. He grinned again. They made, he knew, rather an odd pair as Luke was short and Chewie was tall. (Odd to think that Darth Vader, his father, was nearly as tall as the Wookie, though Luke wasn't sure if that was entirely natural given that Vader was a cyborg.)
A weary Twi'lek waitress came by with menu flimsies. Luke quickly chose blue milk and bantha meat on Quinto grain bread. Chewie dispensed with the milk and the bread, opting for a triple serving of bantha and water.
As usual, spending time alone with Chewbacca was a rather odd experience. Luke knew Chewie understood Basic perfectly well, but could not speak it. Luke was picking up a few words of Shyriiwook, but could hardly carry on a conversation. And since they were in a public place, it was unwise to discuss anything that might attract attention, especially given that there were relatively few customers at this hour.
So Luke satisfied himself by talking of moisture farming and his need for vaporator parts, trusting that this mind-bogglingly dull topic would satisfy anyone listening. And Chewie howled occasionally. When the food came, they dug in, though Luke gave the meat more than one thoughtful look. He wasn't entirely sure it was all bantha, and the alternatives were unpleasant to contemplate. Fortunately, neither he nor Chewbacca was a picky eater.
The back door suddenly opened, and Luke looked up curiously. It was a strange group that entered the establishment, close to two dozen humans and Twi'leks led by a human who was dressed in well used but not shabby clothing, with two Duros sporting blasters at the end of the line. In between were a number of Twi'leks and humans, mostly women and children and babies, but a few men as well. Luke tilted his head slightly; they were speaking Basic and were murmuring about a wearying spaceflight, and the accent, while Outer Rim, was not exactly Tatooinian.
The proprietor of the place stepped forward and directed the cluster of individuals into the corridor near Luke's left, the one that he presumed led to a refresher. Given how many there were, either additional rooms were down that corridor, or there was going to be a long line at the refresher.
He grimaced in mild sympathy at the thought, especially given the presence of children. He remembered having to wait in lines for refreshers on rare trips to Anchorhead, and it had never been a pleasant experience.
The Twi-lek returned with the bill and Luke held out a credit chip for her. He leaned back and grinned slightly at Chewie. So far so good. No one was paying the slightest attention to them, they hadn't attracted any attention, all was well…
And then suddenly, like a flicker of light in the darkness, like an electronic charge arcing across open space, the Force tingled danger. Luke stiffened and slouched back in the seat. Where…?
He forced himself to relax, reached out into the Force, seeking direction.
And stood up slowly.
Chewie looked at him in surprise.
"Refresher," he said with a jerk of his head.
Chewbacca nodded and Luke slipped down the corridor, following the path the crowd of immigrants (?) had just taken.
Sure enough, there was more to this establishment than he realized. There were 2 rooms on each side of the corridor, and outside the farther room on the right was one of the Duros, who cast him a suspicious glance.
Luke forced himself to continue on without hesitation and indeed found three adjacent individual refreshers. He entered the one on the far right, locking the door and closing his eyes in frustration. What was going on? Something was wrong, and he felt it wasn't anything to do with him per se, but instead with the group of people who had just walked into that room. Something was very off, according to the Force.
For a moment, he considered using the facilities, and then leaving. This was none of his concern and Han would be furious if he poked his (very wanted) nose into someone else's dangerous business.
But there were children and babies… he just couldn't abandon kids who might be in trouble, could he?
With a deep sigh, Skywalker climbed on the counter, removed a cooling grate, and crept quietly into the duct work. (One good reason to be thankful he was small!)
After some quiet slithering, he was adjacent to a grate in the room in question, where he settled down to listen quietly.
Ten minutes later, he was dragging a reluctant Chewbacca out into the streets.
/-/
Jabba's main chamber
Jabba's Palace
Tatooine
"You are far too late, Solo," Jabba stated in Huttese.
Han stood loosely in front of the corpulent Hutt, his hand deliberately held away from his blaster. As usual, Jabba's main chamber was crowded with a variety of alien species. A human slave girl dressed in a revealing outfit sat sadly on the dais of the throne, her neck encircled with a slave collar attached to a chain. The other end of the chain was held in one of Jabba's fleshy hands. The motley horde of aliens and humans had been indulging in a riotous party when Solo entered the room, but were now standing quietly, listening with eager interest to the exchange between Jabba and Solo.
Many, Han knew, were hoping he'd end up as dinner for the rancor.
"What can I say, Jabba?" Solo drawled back, "I wanted to get back earlier but let's be real, the girl I met was a lot prettier than you are."
There was a startled pause and then suddenly Jabba was roaring in laughter. A moment later, the crowd was chortling and shrieking as well, to the point that Han felt tempted to clap his hands over his ears. It always took a while to get used to the noise level in Jabba's palace.
He waited, however, stoically, and was rewarded when Jabba spoke again, "Han, my boy, you always were entertaining. With the additional 40% you provided on top of the original loss, your debt is forgiven. I trust you will not try my patience again in such a manner."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Jabba," Han said, sketching a slightly satirical bow, "Now do I get a drink or not?"
"Indeed, my friend!" Jabba roared.
And the party started up again.
Han hung out for thirty minutes, drinking little, eating less, and drifting steadily toward the outer door before creeping off as rapidly as he could without attracting attention.
Outside, he strode toward his landspeeder while glancing at his comlink. Luke and Chewbacca should be fine in Mos Eisley but he wasn't joking about the kid attracting trouble, and if he ran into a bounty hunter…
There was a message from Luke.
A minute later, Han was in his speeder and dashing back towards Mos Eisley, muttering Huttese imprecations under his breath all the way.
Author Note: Thanks for reviews and follows, folks! I always thought Padme's death, while convenient for the plot, didn't make a lot of sense. I could see her so badly injured by Vader's attack that she died (though the twins would almost certainly have died as well) but 'nothing medically wrong with her' and 'we're losing her' doesn't make much sense to me. She was a strong willed lady in the prequel trilogy and there were 2 babies needing her. I think a better explanation is that Sidious did something sneaky through the Dark Side or something. It certainly was convenient for Palpatine that she died.