As if summoned by the thought, the holo-display chose this exact moment to switch to another scene, that of a grey-clad officer bowing low before a tiny blue figure.

"Of course, Your Majesty. Lord Vader will be informed immediately," the uniformed man said.

At his son's momentary spike of panic at the uncanny timing, the resident Sithlord shook his head. "Given my earlier outbreak, an urgent summons from the Emperor was to be expected."

A minimal pause and Luke could all but see the smirk again, even wider now but less boyish, more predatory. "He likes to meditate for some time before dinner – for someone immersed deeply into the Force, the reverberations of my anger should have been quite impressive, even at such a distance. He ought to have resurfaced with a headache the size of Centax-1 …."

"Blame it on me," Luke hurriedly offered, "tell him I'm more bull-headed than a bantha bullock – Uncle Owen would have certainly agreed."

"Uncle Owen …" the deep mechanic voice started but then dismissed the topic with a shake of the head. "There will be time for that, later. For now we must ensure that the Emperor gets to see what he expects – such as a few minutes delay, because people hesitate to disturb me, even bearing His Majesty's orders, in my current mood."

"Captain Kallic has been trying to comm me, for the last three minutes, milord. Without success, obviously," Piett provided quietly. "I expect he is on his way, here, now."

Obligingly, the display jumped to a schematic of the command tower, and a human lifesign moving along a projected line.

"No doubt he is wondering if it shouldn't be Admiral Kallic, by now," Lord Vader went on – and the predatory smirk was generally audible now, if the current admiral's uncomfortable shift of weight was anything to go by. "But that would be an overly extravagant conciliating gesture."

"Nonetheless, milord, a proper Corellian gambit needs a sham sacrifice; and since His Majesty is already gunning for me – most honest compliment I ever got from a politician – I propose we take him up on the suggestion …"

One arm wrapped protectively around his ribcage – the two senior officers had been standing closer to the back wall, meaning less space to build up momentum, but still, the impact couldn't have done already cracked ribs any good – the general used the free hand to gesture down himself.

Beside the young Jedi, Lt. Veers gave a start but stayed silent; Luke sincerely hoped that meant the other man had understood the holochess analogy better than him – the young rebel knew the basic rules, but usually found better things to do with his spare time (such as it was).

The gleaming helmet tilted to give the older Veers a long considering look. "Agreed."

A black gauntlet gestured. "Sleep!"

Abruptly, the general went limp but stayed upright, dangling like a grotesque puppet in the invisible grip for a moment, before he was smoothly set back against the wall.

Then the Sithlord turned towards the admiral. "Emphasize the severity of his injuries, Admiral, let no one not explicitly trustworthy get near him and use only droids for treatment – the Lady will know how to ensure their discretion."

Lastly, Lord Vader addressed the two youngest men in the room. "It would be best if you weren't seen, at all. I expect you will be able to achieve this, Son?"

Luke swallowed nervously.

"I…" Do or do not, there is no try! a sharp memory provided. "…yes. I can keep us below notice, Father."

Maybe he could have phrased that a little bit more positively, the young Jedi decided afterwards, but despite – or perhaps because of – the gaffe, he could have sworn the boyish grin was back, behind the mask.

On the holo-screen, the blinking light went through the last few steps and came to a stop in front of the room. A few seconds later, the door opener reacted.

Oo oo oo oo oo oO

For a man so evidently terrified, the Lady's current Captain seemed … competent. After relaying the Emperor's message and jumping out of the way when the Sithlord pushed past him, black cape flaring with the impetus of his passage, Cpt. Kallic exchanged a long look and a tense nod with Adm. Piett and called in the largish team he'd summoned to wait in a discrete distance.

Lurking in a rubble-free corner near the door, with the younger Veers hovering right next to his shoulder and projecting 'nothing to see here, move along' in a way that lit him up like Empire Day to anyone Force-sensitive, but kept the rest of the populace walking past Luke and his shadow without even a first, let alone a second glance, the young Jedi had little other choice but to watch the proceedings.

Some of the men were wearing full space gear, the young rebel noticed with interest – and promptly berated himself for being so slow on the uptake: even if the ship venting atmosphere would not have triggered general alarms, the Bridge was merely two decks above them, the initial decompression had to have been visible from there.

Luke swallowed, a bit queasy. He had seen enough ships take breaching damage in battle, severe enough to start hemorrhaging atmosphere. Close up, air moisture, flash-frozen upon contact with hard vacuum, trailed in glittering veils after the injured ships… No wonder, the Captain had been frantically trying to reach his admiral, minutes before the call from Coruscant had come in.

The sound of Piett issuing his orders concerning the general to the medical team, pulled the young Jedi back to the present.

"Do not move him until you have immobilized his back and legs and then only with utmost care – I suspect a spine injury and severe fractures to the pelvic bones, at least. And once you got him to med-deck, let the droids take care of him – only droids, am I clear?"

"Droids, sir?" one of the black-uniformed medics seemed shocked. "But sir, you know the general …"

"I know," Admiral Piett snapped angrily, "that Lord Vader has said 'get him to the droids!' And given the mood he's in, I intend to follow that order to the letter – anything else will most probably spell a death sentence, should his lordship find out, understood?!"

Visibly unhappy, the medic acknowledged the order and obeyed.

Taking note of the twitch of a grimace marring his companion's face, Luke waited until the commotion had died down and the two of them had made it out of the room and past the next corner, before he whispered, with a vague gesture behind them, "What was that about?"

The lieutenant shrugged, uneasily. "Droid holding down a disoriented Clone War veteran – generally not a good idea. Most of the senior officers and non-cons – those old enough, at least – really hate the clunkers …"

The young rebel did grimace. On a backwater like Tatooine, a moderately run-down medi-droid was your best bet to get competent medical help for situations that went beyond the scope of home remedies; consequently, he'd never thought twice about accepting their aid on the Alliance ships. Dredging up vague memories of past history lessons, though, he thought he could see Veers' point.

As pragmatic as his father's decision had been from a confidentiality point-of-view, to the uninformed it had to appear deliberately cruel.

The Emperor would certainly approve, Luke decided gloomily.

A/N: Centax-1 is, by my deductions, the largest moon of the planet Coruscant; I reached that conclusion by combining the fact that the largest moon (which Wookiepedia refuses to name!?) was destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong and that the other three moons were explicitly mentioned to have existed in later eras. I might be wrong – I'm not into the New-Jedi-Order-era-and-beyond EU – so feel free to correct me if you know better.