The Will of the Empire

by CzarZelinsky

Not long after the Battle of Endor, Luke discovers that his father may have gone just a tad overboard in making sure his son, and the galaxy, was provided for in the event of his death. And who says Anakin Skywalker doesn't know how to plan! (Han/Leia, Piett lives!, Rogue Squadron, Kettch, the Noghri, Thrawn, Karrde, Jix, Mara, and the rest of the gang)

14. Chapter Thirteen

— The Will of the Empire —

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Chapter Thirteen

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Author's Notes: Welcome back, dear readers. I apologize for taking so long on this chapter; I had most of it written out in the draft before I even released the last chapter but decided to go through it and add more material. This was mostly to flesh out a few subplots and set up for the next big sequences. Unfortunately, this will be the last chapter I publish before I finish Thor's Slayers. This will be the last intermission and I will finish that fucking monstrosity so I can come back to WotE where I belong.

Thor's Slayers could take as long as 3-4 weeks to finish, but I won't be releasing a new WotE chapter immediately after I finish. Instead, because I'll have exhausted my supply of prepared WotE chapter rough drafts upon publishing this chapter, I intend to spend some time writing up new material and planning out future chapters. So, consider yourselves warned, it's possible that I might not publish another chapter for up to two months, though if things go well I'm hoping that it'll be more like the end of September or middle of October. It just depends on how things go, but chapter 14 is definitely starting to shape up as a monster of a chapter.

Friendly warning: I have a truly massive author notes section at the end of the chapter. I'll also be getting a little dirty in there, so have fun with that.

Once again, thanks for all the feedback and I hope you enjoy the new chapter while the winds of Hurricane Harvey are shaking my house!

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"I think I'll continue hating your guts for a while, just as a matter of form."
― Lando Calrissian

#

Six weeks after BoE
The Jedi Temple, Imperial City

"Cousin!"

Luke gaped at the exuberant man, hoping fervently that fate wouldn't add someone like this "cousin" to his already colossal pile of burdens and complicated family drama that he had to contend with. Quickly wiping the disbelief from his face, he kept the emerald blade of his lightsaber level with the other man's throat. Unsure of how to proceed with this sudden intrusion, Luke decided to remain silent and raised both eyebrows in a clear demand for an expectation.

The man's grin never faltered, the blade apparently as threatening to him as one those pittins Leia had once reminisced about from her youth. In fact, Luke would say that the man was doing his absolute best to emulate one of the furry, harmless, lovable creatures. Unfortunately for the stranger, he was neither cute nor adorable as the late "All-Terrain Attack Vehicle" Leia had described and was therefore classified as extremely suspicious.

Luke's eyes narrowed, mouth firming into a thin line as his grasp on the lightsaber tightened.

"Well, despite the chilly welcome, it's good to see you again! I suppose Uncle D never told you about me, but I'm not surprised," the man admitted smugly, finally breaking the silence, "he wouldn't want you to get jealous."

Luke wasn't sure where to begin with the second part of the other man's statement and therefore concentrated on the first instead. "We've met? Uncle...D?"

"Yep, saved both your and Dash Rendar's lives on Tatooine when that swoop gang was on your tail about two months ago. As for Uncle D...well, you know him. The man in the black mask? The crimson lightsaber swinging menace? The scourge of all incompetent Imperial underlings? The walking advertisement for bacta treatments and life support systems? The black-caped, black-hearted monster who sprang from the womb of Palpatine's dark machinations?"

Luke made an involuntary disgusted sound, forcing the man to pause and offer an apologetic glance.

"Ah, I suppose I let that one go a little too far," the man muttered, then brightened, "but I could go on!"

"No, thanks," Luke replied blandly, endeavoring not to vomit. Then his mind actually processed what the man had said and felt as though his world had turned upside down at the realization. "Uncle D...Darth Vader?"

"Oh, looks like you catch on quick, that'll help assuage my pride for when I have to bow at your feet, or when I'm supposed to bow at any rate. Your daddy, yes, I was a valued agent of his who serves even now after his death. Wrenga Jixton, call me Jix."

Despite the lightsaber still pointed at his throat, the man extended an expectant, brawny hand.

Still looking at Jix warily, he combed through his memories of the swoop chase that occurred right before he raced to rescue his sister from Prince Xizor. He remembered the odd event at the very end, something he'd entirely forgotten about, a loud shout in the same Corellian accent as Jix's that'd saved his life from a sharpshooter. Frowning, and still wary, he kept the lightsaber in hand even after thumbing it off, taking the man's proffered hand and shaking it tentatively. "I suppose you already know who I am, then. Call me, Luke."

Jix grinned. "You and I, we have work to do and your father paid me an obscene amount of credits to help you do it. Now, let's blow this crypt before those stormtroopers catch onto my cunning ruse."

"The explosions?"

The man smiled beatifically, "Attach a little thermite gel to a dozen cam droids and let 'em loose. Makes one helluva bang. Lighting a fire on a skyscraper in the shape of the Rebellion's starbird, well that was just vweilu nuts in the ryshcate. Now, come on, there's something Vader wanted me to show you as soon as possible."

#

Two hours later
Darth Vader's Fortress Retreat, Imperial City

"One of the Noghri," Jix observed flatly, "I'm flattered to know that you consider me that dangerous."

Luke glanced aside at Meewalh before shrugging at the big man. "We all have our minders, Jix and unlike a troop of stormtroopers who've sworn loyalty to me, even the clones whose dedication has proved to be invaluable, I find Meewalh's company to be quite soothing."

Jix eyed the Noghri bodyguard, gaze bouncing from weapon to weapon to claw to bared fang. "Yes. Soothing. Obviously. How could she not be?"

The Noghri let out a soft hiss of amusement. At least, Luke thought it was amusement, it might've been the equivalent of a death threat for all he knew; distinguishing the subtleties of a 'hiss' was no easy feat for a human and Jix's sour expression proved that he was no exception.

Luke smiled, at Jix and at the Noghri at his flank. "Meewalh is quiet and utterly focused in both body and mind; meditating in her presence is effortless."

"Huh."

"Yours, on the other hand, would be a challenge, I imagine," Luke acknowledged wryly. "I've yet to meet a Corellian whose presence was quiet and didn't find it insulting to have their presence described as calming."

"No real Corellian would," Jix huffed.

Luke shook his head in amusement before sobering and returning to his study of the interior of the fortress's dimly lit main hall. "This was truly my father's retreat?"

"What, the gloomy, dark and creepy vibe didn't give it away? Yes, and it was only one of many," Jix replied, mood finally sobering. "Your father…he was easy to perceive as a simple man when one observed his interactions with others. It was only in his privacy, in places like this fortress, that his complexities could ever be really seen. This place…well, not here, but in other places of isolation is where I observed not only his complexities but a piece of his past that few were permitted to see. Lord Vader was extremely specific about what he wanted you to see, what he wanted you to have from his various holdings, but he wished me to show you this before anything else, I think…I think it was a way for him to offer some sort of consolation, whether you joined him or not."

Luke nodded mutely as he took in the obsidian stonework, walls bare but for the sparse windows providing a view over the Great Western Sea. Shivering slightly from the cold that suddenly seemed pervasive within the castle, Luke followed Jix's lead, still curious but disconcerted by the stifling darkness that stained this place. They descended a wide staircase that must've led them at least 20 meters downward before it leveled out in front of a set of thick blast doors.

"STATE YOUR BUSINESS."

A set of blast doors that spoke menacingly, apparently.

"He didn't say anything about this," Jix growled in annoyance. "Listen, door, I don't have—"

"THIS SYSTEM DOES NOT RECOGNIZE YOU AS AN AUTHORIZED USER."

Jix jumped back as a recessed blaster suddenly sprang from the upper portion of the door and fixated on him.

Luke cleared his throat. "What about me? Luke Skywalker?"

There was a moment of silence before a small tray extended outward.

"SUBMIT BIOMETRIC DATA SAMPLE."

Glancing at the blaster still trained on Jix, he advanced and pressed his flesh hand against the outlined image. He immediately felt several pinpricks indicating drawn blood samples before the tray returned to the door.

After 10 seconds of waiting, the blaster returned to its cradle and the doors began slowly sliding apart with a creak of protesting durasteel.

"ACCESS GRANTED."

After blowing a raspberry at the door and giving it a kick, Wrenga Jixton led Luke inside, admitting, "I don't know if he ever actually lived here, but when he did come here, I'm willing to wager that he'd make time just to take a look at this."

Luke was about to ask 'at what?' when Jix tapped something invisible against the black stone causing bright light to spill into cavern. No, not a cavern, he realized, gazing upward as the ceiling retracted to reveal a slowly setting Coruscant Prime and the darker-hued, multicolored sky it left in its wake.

Glancing back down, the contents of the cavern finally registered and his mouth opened in awe. There really was no other word for it, no other word could do justice to the sight before him. Jix must've been right, because whether he'd turned to the dark side or not, what lay before him was something he'd treasure. Stang, if his father had shown him a picture of this when he'd made his pitch on Bespin, things might've gone a little smoother for the both of them.

Starfighters, transports, freighters, there must've been over a dozen spaceworthy craft on the gargantuan landing pad, all in pristine condition, all elegant in their own way. The only things that marked them as Darth Vader's rather than some eccentric starship collector were their uniform black color and modifications that he could see without even having to perform a close inspection. But not even the off-putting color detracted from their beauty, not to him at least.

"The contents of this fortress are all yours, of course," Jix murmured. "There are other items around that might interest you, but it was these he specifically wanted you to have."

Luke nodded, brushing a hand against the edge of a starfighter of some kind. Two black lateral wings connected to a cylindrical cockpit. The two wings were situated so that the pilot would have a view through the gap in the wings, where two laser cannons were mounted. "What kind of fighter is this?"

"Kuati designed. One of the better snubfighters from the Clone War, one of the old Eta-2 Actis fighters, and if I know Uncle D, heavily modified like all the others."

Luke nodded, looking further ahead at a small transport that seemed to tower above him. Walking closer, it became clearer that it wasn't just a transport, but more of a luxury yacht instead. It was gorgeous; its lines and curves forming a design that was enhanced by the shiny black metallic surface. Sitting on a trio of landing struts, two powerful engines were mounted adjacent and slightly to the rear of a bulbous cockpit whose front smoothed out into a long needlelike nose. Graceful and sleek, the ship was all class.

"They don't make 'em like this anymore," Jix sighed, eyes as fixated on the ship as Luke's were. "Nubian ship, usually a transport or a yacht. This one has a few modifications, improved power core, hyperdrive rating, some ion charges and a concealed ventral double-laser cannon. Vader spent a lot of time on this one; I was never sure if he loved it or hated it."

Luke turned around at that. "Hated it?"

"I did say that he wasn't as simple as people like to think. He never said anything, but the time I was here he spent a long time glaring at it. 'course, he might've been sleeping on his feet for all I know, but he didn't seem to like it despite how much time he must've spent on it."

"Jix…why didn't you just take this stuff yourself?"

"I'm absolutely shocked and appalled that you'd think me capable of such a thing, of such a betrayal," Jix huffed, crossing his arms in outrage. At Luke's unimpressed look, he shrugged. "What was I going to do flying around with one of these? I live my life by avoiding attention and these," Jix waved his hand around at the ships, "would make my life harder. Selling them would be just as problematic considering that some of these are vintage…or booby-trapped."

"Okay…" Luke said slowly, "and what of my father's other things?"

"Your father paid me more than enough, I didn't need anymore."

Luke chuckled. "You forget that I'm my father's son, Wrenga Jixton, but I don't think being Force-sensitive had anything to do with my knowing that was one karking big lie."

Jix made a face. "So I stole a few things while I was inspecting his properties, so what? Didn't think you'd care, not with you being an extremely wealthy man and all."

"Jix…can you at least make sure that you tell me what you intend to make disappear before you do it. I assure you, there are only a few things that I'm attached to. Do not take anything that has any relevance to my father's past, nothing that has anything to do with the Jedi, the Force and especially the Sith, having that loose in the galaxy is something neither of us wants. And don't you dare touch any of his ships. Also, I want a 60/40 cut, that's my inheritance I'm letting you steal."

"You drive a hard bargain, young Jedi, but I agree. I'd no idea you were so mercenary."

Luke smiled wryly. "Time spent in the company of less than reputable men has had an effect on me."

The two shook hands before resuming their appreciation of the various spacecraft.

"You said that you performed tasks for my father and that he expects you to do the same for me?" Luke asked.

"That's about the size of it. In two years an account with my name on it will become accessible and I can only obtain it with your being there. A few million credits are waiting there for me and I need you alive in order to collect. Of course, if someone manages to dust you before then, I still have the initial two million he gave me, but easy money holds its own allure just as a challenge does," Jix mused.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Good. But if you want those credits, I'm going to make you work for it. I have three tasks for you to begin with. Firstly, I need you to send an encrypted message from an unmonitored terminal; I'll have the message and destination coordinates in a few hours. I'd also like your help in planning a coronation—"

Jix shrugged and spoke without thinking, "Sure, no pr—"

The man abruptly paused, narrowed his eyes, closed his mouth, blinked and opened his mouth again to release a stream of invective. Once he'd run out of breath, he growled out, "Yeah, I'll take care of the message, but what the kriff are you talking about me planning a coronation. What in all the seven Corellian hells could you possibly be thinking? I'm not some sort of event planner! Look, Cousin, I don't think I'm the right kind of guy—"

"—and there's a whole lot of trouble I'd like you to stir up," Luke finished calmly. "And I'm not asking you to plan the whole thing, of course, I just need an opinion or two that doesn't come from someone in a stiff, green Imperial uniform or has a chip on their very non-Imperial shoulder."

There was a strained silence as Jix weighed the younger man's resolute expression.

"…deal, and the third task?"

"I imagine a man like you accumulates contacts about as easily as a Givin spins out mathematical equations; I need you to contact them and put them to use."

Wrenga Jixton's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Doing what?"

"I have a problem with the Moffs and it's not something I can solve from here. I need information Jix, who might be sympathetic to my cause, to the Rebellion, who is a staunch centrist and supporter of Palpatine, who actively supports the slave trade, encourages abuse against nonhumans. More importantly, I need to know what Palpatine knew about the Grand Moffs and his most favored Moffs; a wrinkled turd like him wouldn't let someone into his favor without having multiple ways of controlling them."

Jix's smile turned positively wicked. "I think I can handle that for you. Learning the dirty secrets of the Imperial's high and mighty? Won't take much pay to encourage my sources to take that up if you provide enough logistical support… Sith! As long as you promise to spring them from the detention centers if they get caught, they might volunteer just for the sheer pleasure of it!"

---

The next day

"Look, Luke, you can't just hop on a stage and say, 'I'm your new Emperor, bow before me!' That's the worst thing you can possibly do," Lando stated definitively, ignoring the glares he received as he leaned back in his chair to set his feet on the black marble tabletop. "It's just like anything else you're about to assume control of. A ship, a business, a city, whatever. You don't just pop in and throw out the old management without so much as a 'How do you do?'"

Luke raised a single eyebrow as he met Lando's condescending expression. "Lando, throwing out the old management is literally how my father put me in this position in the first place."

Admiral Piett, who'd been taking a sip of water, spat it out and erupted into a violent coughing fit.

The dark-skinned Socorran rolled his eyes as he tossed a napkin to the Imperial officer. "Maybe, but my point still stands. Vader and his various accomplices—" Lando paused to give Firmus Piett a look, "—did an impressive job getting you here, to this point. But now you need to get from here to that throne and you need to figure out how to remain there."

"I know, I know, the Moffs. I need them on my side, I know." Luke rubbed his temples and blew out a breath.

"Not just them, but the people that have their ears, that influence them," Piett interjected. "The Moffs operate largely on favoritism and bribery. Find the investors and supporters of each Moff and coax, succor or threaten them to gain their support and the Moffs are far more likely to fall in line."

Luke began to smile, a slow smile that had an edge which made the other men blink in surprise. "Yes, I absolutely agree, Admiral. As a matter of fact, that's been something on my mind since I recovered and, as of yesterday, have a man working on fishing out some of the power dynamics for every Moff in every critical system from the Core worlds to the Expansion Region."

His audience blinked.

"You do?" Lando asked.

Piett's question followed immediately on the heels of Lando's. "Who did you trust for a task like this?"

"I do," Luke confirmed with a wry smile. "The fact of the matter is that I can plan, plan, and plan some more but the moment that I, Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and Commander of the Rebel Alliance, am proclaimed Emperor, this Empire will fall apart. The best we can do is salvage what we can and plan a response for what evades our grasp. So that contact of mine, a man whose services were leased to me by my father, is investigating the Moffs."

"Well, that's a good start, Luke, but we still—" Lando began.

"—and," Luke continued, waving Lando off, "when that intelligence broker gets here. Karrde, yes? When he gets here, I'm hoping they'll agree to supplement my agent's current task and that they might extend their reach to the head officers of major banking institutions, exchanges and trusts whose investments are invaluable to the Imperial economy. If the Empire is to endure, it cannot be done on a foundation of ideals and dreams. Credits, on the other hand, should do nicely. Those institutions I spoke of, they will provide the capital we need to run this Empire while withholding it from any incalcitrant Moffs, or they will lose those assets."

"So, to summarize…" Lando stopped himself, gaping at Luke. "You're going to blackmail the Moffs? How do you intend on convincing the banks to assist you?"

"Even Emperor Palpatine hesitated to force major financial institutions into submission," Piett cautioned, nodding his agreement. "That is something he would do over time, rarely so brazenly as this…I do not believe this is a wise course of action, Commander."

"Force them?" Luke chuckled. "I'll wager you a thousand credits that by the second hour of negotiations that they'll be begging to help."

---

Forty-four days after BOE
Aboard the MC80 Star Cruiser Independence
Arbra orbit, Bon'nyuw-Luq sector

"Your Highness! We've received a transmission from Coruscant!"

Leia jerked in surprise, eyes snapping open at the sudden intrusion of C-3PO's loud, excited voice. The glass vase, which she'd finally managed to levitate for a whole three seconds, shattered as it struck the hard surface of the deck. She hurriedly got to her feet, carefully brushing off the flakes of glass that had settled on her tan uniform jacket and light-green pants in the wake of the vase's destruction.

"Control!" Yoda berated her. "You must learn control!"

The annoyed look she flashed him was met with a disapproving scowl so potent that it felt like a physical slap upside her head. The diminutive Jedi Master must've spent the majority of his life devoting himself to perfecting that scowl, but it still wasn't enough to deter Leia. Perhaps, at one time in her life, it might've soundly put her in her place, but his sour expression had nothing on the disdainful sniffs that her trio of aunts had hounded her with in her youth. Therefore, Leia, with all the dignity expected of her royal bearing, stuck her tongue out at the little troll and 'loudly' imagined her punting his ethereal body out of her quarters like a nuna.

Yoda huffed, "A troll, I am not and more troublesome than your brother, you most certainly are."

Leia glowered at the Force spirit before she gave Threepio a saccharine smile that was utterly lost on the droid, "Threepio, I'm delighted that you're here. Now, what's the message?"

"General Rieekan was most adamant that he be allowed to deliver the report in person," Threepio reported. After a short pause, the protocol droid added, "He had the oddest reaction."

Leia's eyes widened, then narrowed as her face took on an annoyed, anxious, and frustrated look as she thought of Han and Luke. "Where is Carlist? And what has my brother done now?"

"I'm afraid I don't know about Master Luke, Your Highness, but General Rieekan has appropriated the use of the captain's stateroom."

"Thanks, Threepio, stay here and keep the dwarf company."

As she left in a green and tan blur of movement, C-3PO glanced around the empty room in confusion. "Humans are most peculiar," the protocol droid complained and began following his mistress to receive clarification of her most recent request.

Yoda gave a weary sigh as he began sinking back into the comforting embrace of the Force. As a rule, the Skywalkers were nothing if not stubborn and headstrong. Even dead, they still managed to make him feel tired.

#

"Princess, how are you?"

Leia smiled fondly at the older Alderaanian as she took one of the plush chairs opposite his own. Between them was a small, circular table littered with datapads, loose durasheets, the discarded wrapping of a ration bar and cup filled with an unidentifiable substance that smelled entirely unappetizing. The man looked stressed but determined, business as usual.

Her smile dimmed as she sighed, "I miss Han, but we should be hearing from him soon if things go well."

"Attichitcuk is reported to be an influential individual of his people. Chewbacca and Han believe it will be easy to convince the Wookiees of our intentions," the general murmured. "But he isn't why you're here."

"We received a message from Coruscant," Leia agreed.

"From R2-D2," Carlist Rieekan affirmed and waved a datacard laying on the table, "It makes for an interesting read."

Leia's hand paused as it reached for the card, her lips pursing. "Artoo sent the message?" After a short pause, she let out a long-suffering sigh. "Luke's injured again, isn't he?" she asked flatly. "How!? He just got there?"

There was a glint in Carlist's eyes that she really didn't like.

"As I said, it was an interesting read. Apparently, Lieutenant Janson accosted R2-D2 at some point and made it clear that Artoo needed to emphasize certain facts in his report."

Leia let her face fall into the palm of her hand.

"All levity aside, Your Highness, Commander Skywalker was severely injured. He might bear some scars as a result but has likely already recovered given the quality of medical care in the palace," Rieekan said, voice sobering. "But he will fully recover."

Leia just nodded. "Go on."

Carlist smiled.

"Artoo's Janson-influenced report begins by specifically stating that Commander Skywalker fainted after they pulled the vibroblade out."

Leia groaned.

"And that he had 23 kilos on the young woman who beat the snot out of him. And yes, that was verbatim."

"Force, what was he thinking?" Leia muttered.

"Janson?" Rieekan frowned.

"Janson doesn't think, Carlist, I mean Luke."

"Princess…one of Commander Skywalker's injuries was a lightsaber slash to his back," Carlist replied quietly. "The message indicates that Skywalker encountered one of the Emperor's agents, an assassin."

Leia's breath went out of her in a rush. "Gods, only he could earn himself a stay in a bacta tank this quickly. The assassin is dead, then?"

General Rieekan visibly cringed. "Ah, Commander Skywalker spared her life. Apparently, he intends to 'save her'. I gathered that it was a reference to the Force somehow."

Leia just shook her head. "Well, if anyone can save someone lost to the dark side, it'd certainly be him, the bloody idiot."

Rieekan nodded sympathetically and fell quiet as she began reading the rest of the report.

---

Forty-four days after BoE
Aboard the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Emperor's Disciple
The Outer Rim

What was the point of it all?

This was the prevailing thought running through Grand Admiral Ishin-Il-Raz's mind even as he maneuvered the attractive junior officer toward the entrance of his quarters. Perhaps using her body might provide relief to his own, but that was no salve for the gaping wound in his heart and soul. The Empire could not stand for much longer, not without the Emperor who had shepherded it into being in the first place. Everything he'd fought for, everything he'd helped build...

After pushing the brunette into his quarters, he slapped his hand against the keypad, hearing the 'swish' of the hatch sealing shut behind him.

What was left for him to do? Execute attacks against planets who'd allied with the Rebels? Raid Imperial worlds to take the resources needed to take the reins of the Empire?

He was the Grand Admiral of an Empire whose beating heart had been ripped asunder with the Emperor's death and the destruction of the second Death Star.

The brunette turned to face him, a mischievous smile on her face. He wanted to slap that look off her face, wanted to make her suffer for having the temerity to feel pleasure when the Empire was rotting around them.

Il-Raz wrapped a hand around her throat and slammed her against the wall adjacent to the hatch. His other hand ran along the curve of her hip, upwards until he felt the swell of her breast. No, he did not intend to make this pleasant for her at all, not when she was still able to smile after everything that he'd lost.

There was a painful bite of pressure in his chest that made him gasp in pain as if he'd been punched in the gut only so much worse. Ishin-Il-Raz looked down to see the point of a knife sticking out of the front of his chest. He looked back up as the woman suddenly...changed.

A grey-skinned hand, which had only just been a flawless, alabaster color a moment before, slapped his suddenly limp fist from her throat. He looked up, unable to comprehend why the being in front of him, which had been an extremely attractive human woman, was suddenly...not, neither attractive nor human.

"Took you long enough," the nonhuman female replied, tone laced with annoyance as she glanced past Il-Raz.

Those facial features... Il-Raz recognized her now for what she was and understood how someone as attractive as she'd appeared had gone unnoticed on his ship for so long. "C-C-Clawdite b-bitch," he hissed.

A large hand clamped over his mouth just as the blade embedded within him twisted and jerked upwards into his heart.

"Yeah, well, I was still working on disabling his quarter's internal security system. Didn't think he'd be so eager to take you up on the offer for a romp in his quarters. The way I hear it, the fool has been moping around for weeks," a masculine voice replied from behind.

Il-Raz's world began to dim as his lifeblood began to seep from his body into his tunic and the deck below. He barely felt the knife withdraw from his body and felt the impact of his body colliding with the hard floor of the deck as he lost the strength to stand even less. He fought to keep his eyes open, to track the Clawdite who'd infiltrated his ship and the yellow-eyed, tattooed man who'd managed to steal away into his quarters.

"I'll deal with the body," the man declared, "strip him quickly, you might as well get his clothes and make it easier for yourself. We got a full week of hyperspace travel until we reach Imperial Center and going grey on the bridge would be a quick way to become dead."

"Yeah, yeah, I know my part, Gauer. Just make sure I get that audience with whatever prig is about to declare themselves Emperor," the Clawdite replied tartly.

Il-Raz gave one last gasp, his body seeming to shudder as life finally left his body.

#

Gauer glanced at the now dead Grand Admiral and blew out a breath. "Can't say the galaxy is going to miss that fool."

"There's a lot of fools disappearing who aren't going to be missed," the assassin huffed amusedly.

"Ain't that the truth? Alright, when we hit Imperial Center, I'll send a wave to confirm the bounty and we split 70/30 when we get paid."

"As we agreed, so long as..."

"Yes, yes," the yellow-eyed man replied, shooting her an irritated glare. "I'll get you your meeting where you can make a case for the grey rats on Zolan. Force, what is this galaxy coming to when assassins would rather be do-gooders than get paid?"

The Clawdite huffed out a breath, "You're just upset because none of the Grand Moffs who valued your worthless carcass are still alive. Only now, with Palpatine dead, do you have any value and purpose."

Gauer's mouth formed into a thin line. "Go change. And while you're taking the time to do yourself up, figure out a way to clear out the area around the airlock on Deck 15, section 124. I have a Grand Admiral to flush out into space and I'd just as soon not be witnessed doing so."

---

Forty-five days after BoE
The Imperial Palace, Imperial Center

Mitth'raw'nuruodo strode into the small sitting room Luke Skywalker had requested for the use of their planning session. Maarek Stele stalked at his heels, a silent shadow whose presence at this place he valued for a multitude of reasons. Offering Skywalker a shallow bow of his head, he greeted the other man. "Commander Skywalker, you seem to have recovered well."

Skywalker, who'd been gazing through a transparisteel window into the distance, turned and offered a smile. It seemed a genuine smile. Wary, perhaps, but genuine all the same.

Such openness, Thrawn half-marveled, half-derided to himself, is likely to attract danger from those seeking to exploit him. He's shown some ability to mask his emotions before, but it doesn't seem to be his nature to be deceptive. The Chiss inwardly sighed. Lord Vader, if there were ever a moment to gain a semblance of sentimentality, it should not have been the one where you named this child to be the next Emperor.

Stepping aside, Thrawn waved a hand at his companion. "Commander, might I introduce—"

"Maarek Stele," Skywalker finished, his voice taking on an unreadable tone. He cocked his head as though he were listening to some unheard voice before his smile began to fade and he took a slow step forward. "Another Hand of the Emperor. Tell me, Maarek Stele, do you also intend to seek satisfaction for the death of your old master?"

Thrawn went motionless, though he glanced aside at his black-haired companion. The Kuani man went ramrod straight, hands clenching into fists as he and Skywalker stared at one another.

Skywalker, to his credit, had donned the mask that leaders wore to mask their thoughts and continued to study Stele through narrowed eyes. Maarek remained still, clearly resentful of the inspection but willing to remain passive during whatever scan Skywalker was employing through the use of the Force. Eventually, Skywalker nodded once and took a step back toward the window, evidently satisfied by whatever he'd seen in the taller man.

"You give me hope, Maarek Stele," the young Jedi said quietly. "You've touched darkness, seen the center of evil's domain and yet you've remained a man of scruples. People like you are the ones who make me believe that the Empire is worth saving."

Maarek stood stiff, so stiff that were he to bend he might shatter altogether. "Whatever knowledge you've obtained about me, I would be extremely dubious of its origin. Emperor Palpatine was not one to share so freely."

"No, I imagine he wasn't," Skywalker conceded, before wincing and rubbing his temples. "My father, on the other hand, won't stop sharing."

Thrawn didn't react, but it was difficult even for him to maintain his customary stoicism at such a bizarre remark. Maarek, on the other hand, looked as though he were deciding whether to laugh at Skywalker or flee for his life.

"Commander?" It was about as diplomatic as Thrawn could manage without asking outright: 'just what kind of painkillers have they been feeding you here?'

Luke smiled briefly, turning to him for the first time since their initial greeting. "The only thing I knew of Maarek Stele before he walked into this room was his name and role in the Empire. Since my encounter with Mara Jade, however, my father has taken a more…proactive role in educating me about the many dangers posed by the Emperor's followers. Given the position he held, the knowledge he shares is about as secure and unquestionable as information can possibly be."

"Lord Vader…" Maarek trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as he apparently attempted to reconcile Skywalker's words and the knowledge of Vader's death.

Skywalker ignored Stele's confusion, staring Thrawn directly in the eyes. "My father recommended that I be honest with you, Grand Admiral, that to be anything else would do you a disservice and, in the end, be extremely unwise."

Thrawn raised a single eyebrow, looking to Maarek for insight. The Hand shook his head, still obviously bewildered my Skywalker's ramblings.

"During the Battle of Endor, I turned myself in to the Empire," Skywalker continued quietly, "because I wanted to keep my friends safe, because I wanted to save my father from the dark side. And so, I allowed myself to be taken by my father to the Emperor. However, I refused to turn to the dark side, I refused to kill my father and take his place at the Emperor's side when I had the opportunity."

Skywalker took a deep breath, seeming to shudder as he stared out the window. "The Emperor was not one to condone disobedience, as I'm sure the both of you know quite well. As punishment for my stubbornness, he decided to kill me for that refusal. It was then that my father killed the Emperor to save me, it was then that he cast off the shroud of the dark side and turned back to the light. And it was as Anakin Skywalker that he became one with the Force."

Though Maarek let out a harsh breath of surprise, Thrawn remained stoic as he kept his red-eyed gaze locked onto the boy even as his mind raced to grapple with the boy's claims.

"He, and several other Jedi have the power to…manifest themselves as spirits after their physical bodies expire. They have served as mentors, guides…" Skywalker trailed off with a shrug. "I needed you to know where I came from so that you can better understand where I'm going. The Force guides us all, even those unable to hear its whispers; everyone has a role to play…but the two of you more so than most others."

Thrawn exchanged another look with Maarek before both men gave Skywalker their attention.

"According to my father," Skywalker said slowly, eyes fixed upon Thrawn, "you are the greatest strategist he's ever encountered, bar none. No doubt you're well aware of how crucial your talents might be for the stabilization and consolidation of the Empire. But, as much as I need you, you also need me."

Thrawn raised a single blue-black eyebrow and tilted his head in question. "Is that so, Commander?"

Luke Skywalker nodded. "I am the only one who will ever take your warning about the many threats in the Unknown Regions seriously. I am also your greatest hope of drawing the war with the Alliance to a relatively expedient end."

"I don't believe in your Alliance, Commander Skywalker; its beloved ideals of diversity and democracy lend themselves neither to war nor to the governing of a galaxy mired in chaos. That was a particularly harsh lesson learned by the Republic when the Clone War began," Thrawn retorted.

Skywalker made a face. "I don't disagree, Grand Admiral, but having to reconquer the galaxy to prove your point wouldn't exactly be an easy task and I don't believe you have the resources needed to do it."

"You said that the 'two of you'," Maarek repeated in the ensuing silence, "and just what exactly is my role in this grand plan of yours."

The young Jedi turned back to the Hand of the former Emperor. "You'll be there to kill me—"

"Give me a blaster and I'll have it done in a microsecond," Maarek deadpanned.

Skywalker rolled his eyes before he mustered past the interruption. "There will be a new Jedi Order, but it won't be mine to build, it won't be one that comes from the Empire," Skywalker started, speaking more softly now. "But I do intend to teach, to pass on the knowledge that I've learned to students of my own. I don't intend for them to compete with the Jedi, doing so would be foolish, counterproductive and quite frankly, dangerous for the galaxy. Nevertheless, I will not let this galaxy fall under the sway of the dark side again, I will not allow a Sith Empire to return to power. I will not!"

Staring at Maarek, the Jedi's eyes flared with determination as he gestured to the window he'd been standing by. Thrawn and Maarek both stepped forward to gaze out into the cityscape, where the remains of the old Jedi Temple could be seen in the distance. "That is a monument of the price extolled by the rise of the Sith, an obelisk marking the failures of the Jedi and the Republic and their inability to see their way out of the darkness. I will have students, I will teach them the ways of the Force, not to oppose the Jedi but to serve the Empire. Theirs would be a purpose much more specific than that of the Jedi; they would serve me, yes, as my agents throughout the Empire."

Maarek crossed his arms, eyes shuttered. "For someone who doesn't want a new Sith Lord sitting on the throne, you sure are starting to sound like one."

Skywalker's eyes never changed, Thrawn noted, they remained intent and confident, without any sign of rancor or irritation at the remark. Maarek was wrong about Skywalker, but the point the former Hand was trying to make was one Thrawn understood.

The young Jedi offered Maarek a grim smile, "Unlike Palpatine, however, my agents would serve an even more important purpose of being a check against my power. That is where your primary responsibility would lie."

Thrawn raised his eyebrows. "You intend to keep the galaxy guarded against yourself, to prevent another Palpatine from emerging should you fall to the dark side."

"Not only for me, but yes," the Jedi confirmed, "for me and any who hold the throne after me. These…knights of the Empire won't be of the Jedi. They will be charged with the task of destroying me should I fall to the dark side, and their more mundane tasks may often be…greyer than their Jedi kin but no less important."

Stele's face was rarely expressive, usually better compared to a granite surface than flesh, but there was a measure of curiosity and contemplation that was plain to see. Thrawn didn't begrudge him that; Skywalker's plan was…unique. It posed its own dangers to the man in the form of his knights, but it was nonetheless a method Skywalker could use to reconcile his ideals with the power he'd be forced to wield.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," Skywalker began, "before we move on to the reason for our being here, there's a bit of news I felt needed to be shared. The time I spent with the Rebel cell allowed me to learn a little bit about the abominable prison facility they were held in. As it turns out, the Lusankya isn't actually a facility, but an incredibly massive ship buried beneath Imperial Center's surface. It's manipulated gravity fields were used to make it extremely difficult for escape but were also a clue as to the true nature of the facility. It surpasses the size of a Star Destroyer by far, but they collected nothing else on the vessel. We need to move the residents sitting atop it and then raise it to the surface, and if possible, to orbit. As with any Imperial ship that large, it's likely to be well-armed."

Thrawn kept his face expressionless, but holding back the curiosity of the mystery that was the Lusankya proved to be an impossible task. "I'll see to it that the process begins after our meeting."

"Thank you." The room fell quiet as Skywalker let out a breath and took a seat. He gave them each a penetrating stare as he leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Now, Grand Admiral, Agent Stele, let's begin. We have an Empire to save and a galaxy to heal. I'm going to be assuming the throne in a very short amount of time and I need your help to do it."

---

Six hours later

The sudden absence of the Force was the first thing Maarek Stele noticed as he approached the isolated detention cell. It was an odd feeling, discomforting, and Maarek realized that unless he was actively using it, he'd rarely given much thought about his connection to the Force. It was only now, in its absence, that he realized exactly how integral it was to his being, how often he'd subconsciously reach for it. The loss of the Force was a sudden nothingness that'd once been an ever-present flame within him. It was like suddenly losing the ability to see color, losing the ability to taste or becoming partially deaf, it was an itch under the skin that was fundamentally wrong.

Beside him, Skywalker's steps had faltered and the Jedi seemed even more affected than he did, seemingly physically drained and off-kilter. Maarek couldn't help but idly wonder if that was a result of the young man's sensitivity to the Force, his level of training or his lingering weakness from his recent battle. He allowed his inner musings and sudden insight into his connection to the Force to come to an end before taking the final steps that would take him to Skywalker's captive.

Outside of the detention wing, were a squad of stormtroopers, three of whom wore strange little harnesses on their backs, likely containing the odd creature Skywalker had described earlier. If Skywalker understood just how significant of a weakness he'd exposed by revealing the existence and abilities of the furry lizards, he showed no sign of it. They'd undoubtedly be a subject of interest and further study to the Grand Admiral, but he had no wish to be anywhere near them now that he understood the toll they took.

Skywalker nodded to the sergeant in command of the squad. "Sergeant, this man can spend as much time as he wishes with the prisoner; there's no need to accompany him inside."

"Sir," the trooper acknowledged curtly before stepping aside and gesturing for the cell to be unlocked.

"Agent Stele, I'll be rejoining the others…" Skywalker turned to walk away before he hesitated and added, "good luck."

Maarek gave him a curt nod before taking the last few steps and stepping inside.

Upon entering the holding area, Maarek discovered three cells, an unoccupied cell to each side and one before him containing the captured Force-sensitive agent. There were four motionless warden droids, two to either side of the cell entrance, as uniformly grey as the rest of the room. Both pairs of the spindly, angular droids stood guard over one of the harnesses that marked the presence of the Force-repelling lizard. He concealed the grimace that wanted to worm its way onto his face and approached the ray-shielded aperture to study the woman within.

The flame-haired woman sat on a compact, unyielding metal slab, her flesh separated from the cold durasteel only by a thin layer of stark white cloth bedding. Even through the golden incandescent shield that barred the entrance to the cell, the expression on her face wasn't at all difficult to discern. To say that she looked miserable and furious would be akin to saying that the surface of a star was warm and that space was big. Though they'd never even met, he was subject to a glare that, had the laws of nature not interfered, would have flayed the flesh from his bones.

On the whole, Maarek might've found her rather charming had he not been certain she'd slit his throat the moment he let his guard down.

She was a striking woman, her natural beauty currently disguised by the myriad of bruises and injuries left in the wake of her fight with Skywalker. But, if she was like every other highly placed agent of the Emperor, the gravest injury she'd suffered had likely been the blow to her pride. Having seen Skywalker's physical stature and seemingly innocuous demeanor, Maarek could sympathize with her internal chastisement.

Maarek had never seen her before, neither in his duties as one of Palpatine's Hands nor in his rare visits to Imperial Center and the palace. That fact didn't particularly surprise him; most, if not every Hand had been taught that they were the Hand, the only Hand. Were it not for Arden Lyn's involvement with Grand Admiral Zaarin's insurrection, he might very likely believe he was just as special as Jade seemed to think she was. Finishing his cursory inspection, he took several steps forward until he stood less than half a meter from the shield, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back.

She didn't speak, just continued to glare at him.

"Skywalker believes that you have the potential for greatness. His words, not mine. He's told me, in part, of his hopes for the Empire and my place in it. He believes that, if you can find peace with the past, you might find your own place here. Again, his words, not mine. If it were me in his stead, I would have you lined up against a wall and shot for the threat you pose."

"Skywalker," the redhead spat, shaking her head in disbelief. Her determination to remain silent having evidently disappeared, she made up for her earlier silence with a loud exclamation, one full of scorn and incredulity. "So, the farmboy wasn't lying? He is Vader's child…and he's inheriting the throne?"

Maarek nodded.

The woman just stared at him, looking as though her world wasn't just falling apart but was being blasted into atoms and vaporized in the violence wrought by matter-antimatter annihilation. She fought to contain her reaction, but her eyes couldn't like; he saw the way the confusion burned within them, the anger that was just waiting to be unleashed.

"I've been told that your name is Mara Jade," he said. When he received no response, Maarek continued, "My name is Maarek Stele. I was named as the Emperor's Hand and eventually the Emperor's Reach. I served with Vice Admiral, later Grand Admiral Thrawn in the Unknown Regions, where we were dispatched to neutralize the threat posed by the treachery of Grand Admiral Zaarin. It was during this campaign where I learned that my position wasn't nearly as unique as I'd been led to believe. There was a woman, a dark Jedi named Arden Lyn who collaborated with Zaarin. She, too, had been named a Hand of the Emperor."

Mara managed a weak scoff. "Unlikely, I was the Hand, the Emperor himself raised me and named me to that position. Whatever you were, you did not enjoy that honor."

"Your disbelief is understandable; my own was just as potent as yours, I assure you. Were it not for their presence," Maarek jerked his head to indicate the ysalamiri, "you might be able to sense that I'm speaking the truth. But, I can tell you about my experiences training under the Secret Order of the Empire, my promotion to the Emperor's Reach, the various code clearances I possess—"

"All of which could be discovered by someone with sufficient rank. A Grand Admiral or the spawn of Vader, for example, might have access to that information" Mara retorted.

"And what of this?" Maarek prompted. Stepping closer, he loosened the sleeve around his arm and withdraw a small device. Activating the device with a soft whine, an intricate, purple tattoo manifested on his arm from the inside of his elbow to the underside of his wrist.

The redhead's whole body seemed to shudder as she took in the tattoo of the Emperor's Secret Order. She let out a harsh breath, eyes never leaving the symbol.

"Nothing you've said justifies any collusion with the murderer of our master, with the usurper of his throne. Why are you helping him?" Mara finally asked.

"Collusion is such an ugly word. We wouldn't have even heard of the Emperor's death or of the defeat at Endor had Vader's missive not arrived. Grand Admiral Thrawn and I are here as much out of curiosity as a desire to keep the Empire intact. We've promised nothing to him and are operating primarily to determine the viability of Skywalker's plan for the Empire. So far, what little of the plans he's revealed for the Empire has proven to be neither unfeasible nor unreasonable."

"You'd trust a Rebel with the Empire?" Mara blurted, clearly aghast at the notion.

Maarek's lips twisted into a sour expression. "The Emperor wasn't perfect, Mara. The Empire, for the most part, is a stable entity. But something as large scale as the Rebellion doesn't spring up out of nowhere; it was the Emperor's policies and those of his subordinates that birthed it. He allowed it to remain, to use as justification for his continued militarization. But the Rebellion grew with each atrocity and then Skywalker…"

"You sound as though you joined the Rebellion, Stele. Didn't take Skywalker very long to make you roll over and play fetch, did it?"

Ignoring the jibe, he replied to her accusation. "The Rebellion formed as a result of the backlash in the aftermath of the fall of the Republic; it was inevitable that there'd be a resistance against the Empire. Rebels so often portray the Republic as a utopia, a place of liberty, excess and high-minded ideals. But you and I both know that the Republic was also a place of corruption, bureaucratic stagnation and political self-interest that made its collapse all but inevitable. The Empire solved those problems, or it might have, had the aristocracy been willing to back the principles upon which the Empire had formed. Can you honestly disagree with anything I've just said?"

"Many of the Empire's imperfections are a result of the necessity to deal with the Rebellion," Mara retorted instantly.

"The Grand Moffs, the Grand Admirals, his Ruling Council, you think they'd be any less foul in the absence of the Rebellion?"

Mara grimaced and looked away.

"I can excuse many of the harsh deeds the Empire has committed," Maarek spoke quietly, "but there are things I've seen for which there is no excuse. Hypocrisy in so many of the Empire's leaders, which I know you've seen, is rampant. The actions taken to keep the Empire intact, even ones the Rebellion considers barbaric, are actions that I can stand behind. That line only goes so far, however, and Alderaan certainly crossed that line. Even the way the Empire used Thrawn was disturbing, making use of his strategies and giving credit to humans...that's what the Empire became. You're lying to yourself if you believe the Empire was perfect."

The reference to Alderaan actually made her eye twitch, but the anger in her eyes never faded. "Then what does he intend? Palpatine is dead. Vader is dead. Nothing is stopping him from undoing everything the Empire has done for the galaxy. The Empire is my home, Maarek. I exposed traitors for Palpatine, brought down his enemies, helped him keep the kind of control over the petty bureaucracies that he needed. I had prestige, and power, and respect!"

A moment passed as Maarek allowed himself a moment of pity for the young woman. "How much was ever truly yours, Jade? How much of it was still yours when he died? How much control did he ever have over those bureaucracies when their corruption proved to be unmanageable. How was the Rebellion able to become strong enough to become a true threat to his rule? He lied to you, Jade, just as he lied to me."

"He named me as the Emperor's Hand, named others to the same position, believers in him, in the Empire just the same as you." Lifting a finger to point to the tattoo, Maarek leaned in and spoke in a harsh, low voice. "I am not a member of the Rebellion, Jade; their pretty values might fuel a resistance but they won't survive the ruling of a galactic government. It is my understanding that Darth Vader intended for Skywalker to not only keep the Empire intact but to confront the issues that detracted from the principles Palpatine formed this Empire with."

"But he's a member—" Mara began but was quickly cut off.

Maarek cut her off. "He hasn't revealed everything to me but Skywalker's plans do not involve turning over the Empire to his Rebel friends and he does not intend to turn the Empire into the Republic, either. You can be sure that if that were the case, the Grand Admiral and I would not be so passive in our interactions."

Mara gingerly stood to her feet and spread her hands wide in appeal. "Then what do you want? What does he want?"

Maarek shut off the device, put it away and rolled down his sleeve, keeping his eyes locked on hers all the while. "Skywalker told me that Palpatine put something into your mind, something intended to grant him his revenge."

"Justice," Mara corrected.

Maarek raised an eyebrow and moved on without argument. "Skywalker is letting you go. He intends to send you out on a shuttle locked onto a specific course with all communications locked down except for those addressed to the Imperial Palace."

Mara let out a huff of air and sat back onto the slab, crossing her arms. "He's still sending me to Endor to look at the walking tin-can's remains, huh?"

The black-haired man's lips quirked and he shrugged a shoulder. "A series of destinations actually, all locked into the navigational system. Quite the sightseeing tour of the Outer Rim that you'll be taking."

The redhead crossed her arms, looking almost sulky as she heard her fate. "Where else?"

"After Endor, you'll be going to Tatooine, possibly to meditate about the nature of sand. You'll then backtrack to a planet-sized swamp in the Sluis sector to go spelunking, and then back here…to visit the Jedi Temple in his company. After…doing whatever it is you'll be doing at each destination, you'll need to comm the palace to have the next navigational course unlocked. He also said that you'll be watched when you arrive at Tatooine, the only planet populated by sentient life of the group, so he'd advise against trying to hitch a ride offworld."

"He's letting me go?" Mara repeated disbelievingly.

Maarek's lips thinned. "Against the recommendations of Imperial and Rebel personnel alike. I don't know how you made such an impression on the man, but you should thank the stars that he's neither our former master nor his father or his response to your assassination attempt would be…more severe."

The flame-haired woman seemed to shudder at the idea before she took a seat back onto the slab. Staring at her hands, she asked quietly, "What must I do?"

"Consent and cooperate in having that thing in your mind removed," Maarek replied.

Mara's mouth opened, obviously intending to argue but paused when Stele raised a staying hand.

"If your desire for revenge is as potent as you believe, then removing his voice will do no harm, yes? And if his voice is physically causing you pain as Skywalker believes, then it would also make you more effective, wouldn't it?"

Mara glowered at him, eyes hurt, confused and undoubtedly searching for a flaw in his reasoning.

"I'll give you some time to think about it," he said gently and turned to walk away. He hadn't even taken a step when her voice called out to him.

"I'll do it."

---

Fifty days after BoE
Aboard the MC80 Star Cruiser Independence
Arbra orbit
Arbran system, Bon'nyuw-Luq sector

"Princess?"

Leia looked up in surprise, the reports collected on her datapad forgotten. "General Cracken, how can I help you?"

Airen Cracken, General and Supreme Commander of Alliance Intelligence, glanced around at the mostly empty mess hall and jerked his head toward the exit. "If you don't mind, Princess, we received a few transmissions you might be interested in. They're a little too sensitive to be shared here and I didn't think it was wise to share it over commlink."

Leia eyed the spymaster curiously before examining the untouched cup of now cold caf on the table. Grimacing, she set the cup aside and stood up. "After you, General."

After giving her a courteous bow of his head, Leia trailed in the older man's wake toward the lift to find a more secure and private locale.

#

"Alright, General, what do you have for me?" Leia asked curiously. She sat with her legs crossed, fingers flat against the light-blue fabric of her dress as the other man took a seat in a white, plush couch opposite her own. "I have time but not much, I'm afraid. I have a meeting with the Hoojib ambassador in less than two hours."

Cracken's typically dour expression morphed almost imperceptibly when his mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. "Of course, Your Highness, I can assure you that this won't take long. And, now that you've mentioned it, please pass along my regards to Plif."

Leia's eyes crinkled in a smile as she thought of the wise, telepathic, white and pink Arbran native. "I'll be sure to do that. So, General?"

"We received a transmission from General Solo with a mission update," Airen replied, another one of his there-and-gone again smiles appearing on his face when her eyes sparked with interest. "He, Chewbacca, and Lieutenant Page's team were able to make contact with several of the tribal leaders on Kashyyyk and make trade agreements for natural resources and establishing supply depots in return for removing the Imperial presence in the system. He stated that the Imperial Naval presence currently consists of a Star Destroyer and two interdictors. His team was directly responsible for the destruction of an armed space station used to facilitate the trade of Wookiee slaves."

"What happened to keeping it low key?" Leia wondered aloud. "Weren't they there specifically to observe only?"

Cracken snorted. "General Solo is many things, Your Highness, but neither subtlety nor a willingness to stand by when those he cares about are harmed are among them. A group of Wookiees had been taken and Solo took it upon himself to see them to safety. Things…happened during the events that followed."

Leia sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Of course, they did, how bad?"

"Well, as I said, the space station was destroyed and the Wookiees were successfully recovered. And, Grand Admiral Pecatti Syn was assassinated."

Leia blinked.

Cracken gave her a feral smile. "The assassinations that began taking place after the Battle of Endor appear to have continued. In this instance, the bounty hunter claimed that a significant bounty had been posted on a number of the remaining Grand Admirals and Moffs. With the Grand Admiral dead and the space station destroyed, Admiral Ackbar has proposed that we move our plans for Kashyyyk forward. He believes that with the loss of the Grand Admiral, the Imperial presence is more likely to retreat than fight it out. Everything I've read about the situation and the Star Destroyer's new commanding officer supports that suggestion."

Leia frowned, considering Cracken's words. "I'm assuming both General Rieekan and Chief of State Mothma have already been given the full report; what did they have to say?"

"They're at something of a deadlock, I'm afraid. So far, we've kept our expansion to the Outer Rim to accommodate the cease fire that we established with the Empire; going into the Mid Rim and Expansion Region will be more problematic. On the other hand, they're a planet known for their sympathy toward our cause and the gross violations Moff Darcc has inflicted upon the Wookiees would more than justify our actions."

"And there is the fact that several Mid Rim planets are already flying our flag, General," Leia reminded him.

"Yes, well, when the time comes to draw borders, won't that just make things utterly delightful," the Contruumian muttered. With a sigh, he spread his hands. "We've come up with a solution, well, a temporary one at any rate."

Leia cocked her head in question.

"This leads me to a second transmission we only just received: Targeter reports that Rogue Squadron is currently on Coruscant."

"Imagine that," Leia replied dryly. Quieting for a moment, she tilted her head and asked, "You want to use her to funnel communications to Luke?"

Cracken nodded. "Indirectly so as not to ruin her cover but yes. Mon would like to keep Commander Skywalker informed of any major developments outside of the Outer Rim. We're hoping that Skywalker will be able to use whatever influence he possesses to recall planetary and system governors, along with the garrisons they oversee, from planets and systems that have proved to be overwhelmingly supportive of the Alliance."

"That'd be an unprecedented concession," Leia observed with a frown. "It'd be dangerous for him to agree to it. Besides, until he's formally named the Emperor, the only influence he has is an extension of those who already support him. Even having that Grand Admiral of his issue orders on his behalf might not carry a lot of weight. Being unknown and nonhuman will be more than enough for staunch loyalists to dismiss his orders."

"It's an idea that we're still working on," Airen agreed with a shrug. "Now," he began, slapping his hand on his knee to signify a change of topic, "the third message we received came from the survey team we sent to Honoghr. They've arrived and have begun collecting data, both to confirm the Noghri's claim and to assess the extent of the damage and the viability of a plan to help the world's ecosystem recover."

As he spoke, the general flicked his eyes over her shoulder at the silent form of Khabarakh, who was standing sentinel by the closed hatch. Though there was no verbal response or sound of movement from the Noghri, Leia was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of relief and hope. Khabarakh's relief and hope, she realized uncomfortably.

Both Luke and Vader had been correct; now that her mind had been opened to the Force, its whispers and insights were becoming an increasingly common phenomenon. For the most part, it'd come in the form of brief flashes of insight or the sense of another person's feelings and emotions, but it was almost always vague.

Vader—Anakin had told her before he left to save Luke from his own damn hero complex, that with training and discipline, her understanding of such things would grow. He'd also said, with such grief that even she had felt a moment of pity for him, that the Force would rarely provide a direct answer to her questions and that the vagueness of its answers could lead to dangerous paths if one followed its whispers out of fear. His words, spoken with such bitterness and sadness, and the rawness in his voice made it clear that his fall from grace had likely come from such a choice. Suffice it to say that it had not been an encouraging speech, but it had helped her understand her brother and Anakin Skywalker just a little better.

Leia sighed and shook her head. She hoped Anakin would come back soon and wasn't that just a laugh riot, but she just didn't know how much more of Yoda's cackling laughter she could take.

"Princess?"

Leia blinked and met General Cracken's concerned eyes. "Pardon me, General, I was thinking about Honoghr. What were you saying?"

Airen watched her carefully for another moment before he sighed. "And the fourth message we received came from a rather interesting source. I might add, by the way, that we received all of these messages in the last three hours and we've been scrambling to play catch-up."

"It must be terrible having to work so hard," Leia murmured sympathetically.

"How very droll, Your Highness," Cracken replied blandly. "But, this message, I think, you'll find more interesting."

Leia raised an eyebrow and waved him to continue.

"Jix, as he calls himself, is a pain in the ass who's either a smuggler, assassin, bounty hunter, fixer or all of the above who's apparently an asset that Commander Skywalker has managed to collect. Whatever he is, he's extended an invitation on Skywalker's behalf to Alliance High Command to witness the ascension of the heir-to-be to the Imperial Throne in a little more than five weeks."

Leia's breath caught. "Five weeks? So soon?"

The general shrugged. "That's part of the reason Mon wants to wait on Kashyyyk, because of the news of Skywalker, I mean. If Thrawn's influence isn't powerful enough, we'll have to hope that 'Emperor' Skywalker commands enough of the Navy to be able to authorize such recalls. We're skeptical, but for now "wait and see" is the best way to move forward with sympathetic systems."

"'Emperor' Skywalker," Leia echoed mournfully. "It sounds like a joke."

Cracken shrugged.

Leia nodded unhappily and, giving him a curious look, asked, "Is High Command considering Luke's invitation?"

Airen lifted a hand and waggled it back and forth. "Certainly not all of us, but if the arrangements are secure to General Madine's specifications and our itinerary is kept secure, it's not impossible."

"I'd like to see him again," Leia murmured, thinking of her brother's features. They'd been separated for so long and it seemed monstrous of the universe that they be separated yet again. Sinking into the chair as her mind continued to race through the information Cracken had imparted, she sighed and said, "And so we wait until we learn more."

"So, now we wait," Cracken confirmed. "Hopefully, Admiral Piett will have made progress in securing Talon Karrde's services. What my people have uncovered seems to corroborate with both Admiral Piett and General Calrissian's assessment of the man: reliable and trustworthy if you're willing to pay the exorbitant price as well as uncomfortably effective as an information procurer and broker. Were he to facilitate communication between us and Luke's Empire, the delay in receiving messages off the HoloNet would be significantly diminished. He's certainly more preferable than this Jix. "

Leia's lips quirked in a decidedly unroyal manner as she took the spymaster's expression in. "General, why do you seem to take Jix's existence as a personal affront?"

"All that annoying prat said at the beginning was that he worked for Skywalker's father and that "Uncle D" was paying him to continue taking care of 'the kid'," Cracken replied, rubbing his temples in an obvious display of annoyance.

"Uncle D?" Leia echoed, "You mean—"

"Apparently, Vader's famed intolerance for everything didn't extend to irritating, Corellian lowlifes," Airen Cracken snarled.

"Han would disagree," Leia muttered with a shake of her head, "vehemently."

"Point," Cracken acknowledged. "Now, Your Highness, there's one last thing. I'm afraid I've omitted the second part of Jix's message."

Lifting an eyebrow at the man's look of consternation, Leia waved him to continue.

"The coronation won't be taking place on Coruscant."

Leia's eyes widened. "What? Why? The entire Imperial establishment will be outraged! Where does he plan to hold it?"

Cracken made a 'harumph' as he shook his head. "I have the impression that it wasn't Commander Skywalker's idea. In fact, I'm fairly sure that it was Jix's, which gives you an idea of how much trust Skywalker has suddenly invested in the man. His reasoning is that if Skywalker is about to go public, he should do so in a place that is both connected to the Jedi, a place that holds better memories of his father and was significant to Emperor Palpatine."

Leia eyed the man as if she were waiting for the punchline.

The general sighed, "Neither Anakin Skywalker nor Sheev Palpatine began their lives dedicated to the dark side, Your Highness. They were, both of them, respected and admired by a great many beings across the galaxy. Whatever else they became, there are still those who remember them as figures who needn't be feared."

"Spit it out, General."

"Naboo, they're going to Naboo. Palpatine's homeworld, a culturally significant system to the Empire which will inspire some amount of satisfaction from the old guard," Cracken answered.

"The planet despises Palpatine, General," Leia snapped. "Force! They're ready to cede from the Empire and join the Alliance at the first opportunity!"

"Very true, Your Highness," the general replied softly, "but this is a planet that also remembers a nine-year-old boy who saved them from conquest 36 years ago."

Leia furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I didn't quite understand the significance either," Cracken admitted with a wry look, "Mon, on the other hand, did. Though the events took place almost a decade before she was elected senator, she remembers the events quite well. Apparently, a colleague whom Mon would come to regard as a mentor, political ally and close friend was the elected Queen at the time. Anakin Skywalker was a hero to the entire planet for the role he played; his name is still well known, even if it is never spoken aloud."

"Nine years…"

"'Skywalker' is a name most of the Naboo will recognize. Furthermore, they haven't forgotten the assassination of Queen Apailana or the destruction of the Jedi she harbored. Now that a self-proclaimed Jedi will be taking the throne…"

"Appeasing the Empire by hosting the coronation on Palpatine's homeworld, presenting a Jedi and the son of Anakin Skywalker to appease the Naboo, revealing that Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, making Luke the son of Vader… it'll be chaos," Leia complained, shaking her head.

"Chaos, yes, but not immediate, overwhelming overt hostility and aggression. The confusion that the revelations will create will be far less volatile on Naboo than they'd be on Coruscant or another Core world," Cracken replied.

"And, hopefully, he can make order out of the confusion? That seems...unlikely."

"Perhaps," the Alliance general conceded. "However, a central reason that Palpatine was able to become the Emperor was a result of his mastery of using chaos to further his goals: the political quagmires of the Republic and the increasing tension and eventual outbreak of the Clone War. Well, that and being a Sith Lord, I suppose. In any case, this Jix fellow seems to share that understanding of chaos. Chaos can be violent, it can be destructive, it can be horrific, brutal and tragic. But, it can also incite change, it can provide opportunity out of the miasma it stirs up. Chaos is a ladder, Your Highness, and this ladder might just have the rungs Skywalker needs to climb to ascend the throne."

---

Author's Notes: And there's my token nod to Game of Thrones; awesome books/tv show. I'm sure most of you can probably see what's coming ahead with Naboo (parts of it, at least), so you have that to look forward to. Some of you might have noticed the discrepancy in how long it takes people/places to get messages to other people/places. Part of this is because not all communication is instantaneous. Vader's communication with Palpatine in ESB would be an example of instantaneous, long range communication, but as I understand it, such devices were relatively rare outside of major ships or communications hubs. Distance obviously is a factor, as well as the method of communication (subspace transceiver, Holonet, etc), and the stability of the network/route (delays/intermittent connections).

I believe I said this before, but if not: Thrawn did not inherit the Noghri in my story. That was something I altered for storytelling; basically, I replaced Rukh with Maarek Stele. So there you are.

Yes, Vader did own a bunch of his own ships, among them were a number of Eta-2 interceptors and the J-Type 327.

Random blurb about the Force: I read something the other day about why the Sith, or darksiders in general, consider themselves and the dark side stronger than the Jedi and the light side. That got me thinking because, in some respects, they certainly are. Not necessarily a "dark side is stronger than light side" thing, but in how it's used. The advantage of the dark side is that it can be used without much or any moral considerations, allowing darksiders to focus entirely on attacking, offensive actions, causing massive destruction without hesitation. In the past, many Sith/Jedi duels/battles/wars seem to have been won by Jedi solely because they had the advantage of numbers, that they were able to act while the darksider was relatively contained.

As I've been writing my story and researching various characters/events, I've come across a lot of interesting information. It just so happens that, after reading the dark vs. light side argument, I came across a story about a purge survivor (whose name I can no longer find, but it's somewhere on Wookieepedia) who duked it out with Vader. The Jedi would've won the duel had Vader not threatened to destroy a nearby dam, and consequently thousands of innocent people in the city nearby. The Jedi stopped his attack in order to keep the dam intact and, unsurprisingly, died when Vader took advantage of the situation. Then, Vader let the dam collapse anyway because that's what darksiders do. Another example is the scene in Attack of the Clones where Yoda fights Dooku, where Yoda lets Dooku escape in order to save Kenobi and Skywalker. Yoda could've won that duel and had Dooku been stopped, the Separatists would've lost a critical figure which gave them the sort of legitimacy they needed (hence the "rally more systems to his cause" comment). Plus destroying a well-trained Sith would be beneficial, right? All that, in order to save two people.

I suppose that's the weakness of the light side and why the "power" of the dark side is so often lauded by darksiders because the Force has freed them from the chains of the light side's natural moral confinement. Indeed, perhaps that freedom is why Yoda describes it as seductive. This might also play into my earlier theory about gray Jedi seeming to be stronger, about those who've escaped the reach of the dark side or who often walk the line. Their awareness of what each side can offer, of where the line lies, of their own ability to compromise between what's right and what's smart or necessary. /rant

Fanfiction annoyances: This isn't specific to Star Wars and, in fact, rarely happens with the Star Wars universe. Something that annoys me is in crossovers, where one universe is annihilated to accommodate another. Example, Lost GirlxBuffy xover where it was discovered that the entire Slayer lineage was a lie and it was all actually related to the Fae. I've also seen this in HaloxMass Effect xovers, where Sheppard is actually just a gung-ho UNSC soldier. Some people like it, I don't, even though I love HaloxMass Effect xovers. I read crossovers because I want to see what happens when two fandoms and their canons meet, not because I want to see some characters transplanted while having their backstory disappeared.

Also, I fucking hate Xander as a Buffy fanfiction character. I hate him, hate him, hate him.

Addressing a comment made about lightsaber crystals/blade colors: Fact: In Legends, Kenobi's hut on Tatooine contained not only the pieces for a lightsaber but also a forge specifically meant for creating lightsaber crystals (read: synthetic). Luke Skywalker, Corran Horn (first self-made lightsaber's original crystal was a synthetic diamond), Jaina Solo, and Lowbacca all used synthetic crystals in their lightsabers at one point or another. In Legends, the color was based more on the crystal and forging process itself rather than anything else. While the Sith were the first to make common use of synthetic crystals, it was not their synthetic nature but the dark side influence throughout the process used to forge them that gave them their crimson hue. Same applies with dual-bladed lightsabers, started by the Sith but not specific to the Sith.

It's not as clear, but I think in the new/Disney canon, Kenobi's hut didn't have a forge but Alternatively, the kyber crystals of Disney canon are all clear at first and shift colors based on the Force-sensitive's attributes/proclivities. Because the kyber crystals are naturally attuned to the light side, the Sith have to "overpower it," to corrupt it in order to attune the crystal to themselves (Read: making a crystal bleed). In the end, there's a level of inconsistency with both theories in how the process can be sustained throughout the entirety of the canon, but I prefer the Disney version which has a little more…depth to it and is less mechanical. Regardless, I think it's ridiculous to ascribe a certain type of crystal to either Jedi or Sith.

Things that drive me bonkers about Star Wars fanfiction: Every now and then I feel the urge to beat my head against the wall because, for some reason, people list "Anakin Skywalker" as a main character of their story when it is, in fact, Anakin Solo who is involved. The exact same thing happens with Lumiya and Ahsoka, too. No idea why, it makes no sense, but there you have it. Grr.

And about fanfiction in general: Sex scenes. Okay, so I don't mind if the author decides to include a sex scene in their story, but they need to decide from the get-go how explicit they're going to make it. Romance scenes without any explicit details can be great, a classy way to depict a relationship without descending into the world of erotica. Even the stories featuring scenes which are basically just smut can be okay. What drives me nuts are the people who try to go for some weird, in-between, bullshit who use the most ridiculous words either because they think it won't affect the rating, they're just afraid of using grown-up words, or they think they're being artsy like the 50 Shades of Grey writer who is so fascinated with a female's "Inner Goddess." (Yes, I read it, fuck off)

Penis. Shaft. Cock. Vagina. Pussy. (Wo)manhood. Breasts. Tits (sort of cutting it close on that last one, imo). These are all okay to use so long as the level of explicitness remains consistent and that the author doesn't vacillate between attempts at classy romance and down and dirty smut.

No fucking loveshafts, meatsticks, or tool (- as a reference to a penis) petal(s), boobies, titties, or wellspring of desire or any usage of the words: moist, sloppy or floppy. And for sanity's sake, don't have woman shrieking or men roaring out their pleasure. Either the author hasn't ever had sex, doesn't understand how sex works or they don't actually know the definition of those words. I could go on, but you get the point and I'm already making myself feel uncomfortable. (Insert: "I need an adult!" meme here)

/Rant