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SW Ep. IV: Dark Assassin Ch.21—Oath
Palpatine chuckled as he walked into the demolished catastrophe around them; his cane clanking loudly even over the rumbling fire and hissing of burst water mains.
"My, the rage that fills you," the vile ruler smoothly began, "do you not feel freed now, young one? Does not releasing the anger liberate you of your frustrations?"
Luke swallowed hard; he'd not been thinking. He'd been so foolish.
The fact was; the Emperor was right, he'd used the dark side to fuel the attack, and they both knew it.
But, he was an assassin, not a Jedi. He didn't recoil, didn't take a step back.
No; as much as fear of the Sith Lord was screaming in his ears, he stepped forward.
The Emperor only grinned at his daring, apparently approving.
"It must bother you," Luke softly avowed, blue eyes narrowed as they fastened on the tyrant, "that I may have as much power as you're implying, yet you've never sensed me before—even once."
The change in the monarch's face was nightmarish.
"Ah, but that is true," the Emperor hissed, toxic eyes practically burning through Luke, "but is of no consequence now. You've done well, hiding for so long, a pity for you it is possible no longer."
And invisible, burning tendrils wrapped around Luke, dragging him to the ground. He shouted and pulled at the Force to fight back, but screamed when the tendrils burst into black flames.
Wait; this was impossible! If he was only a shade, a psychic form, the how could the Sith-?
"Quite intriguing," Palpatine mused aloud as Luke screamed and fought, "a mere boy, a child; and yet, so much power clearly dwells within you. Hmmmm…."
Luke didn't like the sound of that; it was too close a parallel to Vader, too close to being told—
"Well, your body cannot be far from here; not for you to use your power so freely in my palace." His tone took on a chilling benevolence. "Where are you boy, in the corporal worlds?"
The pain became unbearable, Luke screamed louder, but kept his mind closed, even as he could feel the Emperor's mental claws slashing mercilessly at his defenses.
"It is useless to resist, young one," the ruler viciously remarked, his tone still eerily light, "better for you to surrender now. After all, the dark side has already consumed you"—
Luke gasped. No, that couldn't be true.
-"Oh," Palpatine gleefully said, "but it is so! By your own actions you've proven it, or do you not see the destruction all around you? You anger has given you much power; power you crave, long to have for your own ends. What ends would those be boy? What drives you so?"
Luke struggled harder; fear now breeching his defenses.
No; it couldn't be, he wouldn't allow it. His father was a Jedi, his mother one of the very first rebel originators; he would never go against what they had fought for.
What his mother had died for. He yelled out in his mind for Fade.
She had to sense what was happening.
He sensed his mental walls fracturing under Palaptine's onslaught; he was so powerful! Luke thought of how easily Vader had cut down those Jedi; a couple Masters even.
How was he to oppose this kind of power?!
Neither of them saw the Ethereal materialize behind the Emperor.
But Luke felt her; he took an infinitely relieved breath just as a blinding amethyst flash blasted through the room with enough force to shake everything like a violent earthquake.
He heard the Emperor yell as he flew to one side, landing in a pile of rubble where the staircase had been.
A loud crash sounded when the dictator landed. Luke felt his power instantly abate, he was able to push himself to his hands and knees; blood filled his mouth.
As the Emperor attempted to rise, venomous yellow met icy blue.
"I won't join you," Luke snarled, "but one day, I will kill you—you have my word."
And with that, Fade wrapped around him and they were gone.
Luke heard a faint, livid yell of 'no!' from the Sith Lord as he woke up.
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"Luke!" was the first thing he heard after snapping awake. He quickly took in his surroundings.
He was in the Falcon; in one of the personal quarters, he was lying in a bed…bereft of his uniform; garbed in his white under-shirt and pants. Ben, Luminara, Mace and Han were all sitting around him.
It was Ben who had spoken; he was on Luke's immediate right. He clutched Luke's shoulders, his face contorted in fear and anxiety.
"Luke! Do you have concept of what you've done!?"
Mace, sitting across from Ben on Luke's left, reached a hand out to steady the other Jedi. "Obi-Wan; he didn't do it consciously. We all felt that. And between our power and the Ethereal, we retrieved his Force essence in time."
"Just in time," Ben emphasized. Luminara shook her head.
"It was going to eventually happen," she quietly pointed out, her face accepting. "He is the child of the Chosen One. Did you expect the Force to let him live in the shadows forever?"
Ben grimly shook his head; but his obvious worry over Luke strangely touched him. He took one of Ben's hands and patted it comfortingly.
"I'm all right," he said over a dry throat. He coughed.
Ben took the cue, sighing as if it were too late now to do anything but press forward and fill a cup with some water on the small table beside him.
He lifted Luke's head and helped him drink. "You're just like your father; always taking unnecessary risks," he murmured as if in resignation.
Luke drained the cup and lay back down. "What happened?"
"Vader managed to rupture all of your organs before you escaped," Mace replied, his tone soft and reassuring, "but we, between the three of us, managed to heal you. You might be sore for a couple of days, but you'll make a full recovery."
Luke nodded, nervousness growing in him. If they healed him, then that had to mean….
Luminara gave him a sober look. "You have a surprisingly efficient rejuvenating ability."
It was a question. Luke took a breath, let it out. "I know; I know you want explanations."
"Luke," Ben asked, his voice filled with fatherly concern, "what happened to you, after you were taken by the slavers?"
Luke swallowed the knot in his throat. "I'd rather talk about it after…."
His expression must have convinced them. They all exchanged knowing looks, but nodded quietly.
Luke hated it; he hated discussing his past, what he went through…and how cowardly it made him feel.
He'd been able to move on, had found a path to walk on, had found a way to impact the galaxy for good; but…it was so much easier to do that when he made an applied effort to forgetting.
Telling others about it…no; he never did that. It was just too painful.
But, these Jedi, even as the one called Mace asked Han to bring Luke some food; that Biggs was in the galley with some of the other Jedi preparing everyone a meal and Han patted Luke on the shoulder and promised him things were 'gonna be ok, kid' and left, they were being kind to him.
Why? Ben was for his father's sake, Luke was fully aware of that, but the others? They knew who he was: Specter, what he was: an assassin, and yet, where was the judgment? The disgust from these Knights with their Order and Code—their Code that clearly didn't condone assassinations or any of the other criminal activities he'd done, regardless of his noble motives.
They were still treating him as a human being, worthy of dignity and compassion. It was to force his throat to not close in light of it.
He wasn't proud of what he'd done, good intentions or no; and he wasn't proud of what he'd been made into either.
But they weren't judging; somehow, it made being with them strangely…comfortable.
Han came back in with a tray; Biggs close behind him. The Jedi gave him some space and talked quietly in a corner as Luke reassured Biggs and Han that he was all right.
Luke never lost sight of how fortunate he was to have such friends. Fleetingly, Tank came to mind and his face fell. He so wished Tank had come with them.
Biggs' somber expression said all: he was never lost at reading Luke's mind. "We'll get him back, Luke, I'm sure of it."
Han nodded. "We'll just wait for the opportunity, kid."
Ah; so Biggs had told him then. Not surprising. Han and Biggs were closer than Han was than Tank, but they still had always gotten along. Tank had always seemed to gravitate more to Chewie, wanting to arm wrestle him constantly and such.
Luke grinned at the memories. "Yeah; I'm sure you guys are right."
"Puh," Han said, rising, "I don't need to be told I'm right, kid. I'm always right."
"Even when you're wrong?"
"That's right," Han said and with a bravado gesture, left the room. "Now, those Jedi are getting kinda cocky, telling the princess stories in my lounge."
Luke rolled his eyes. "Time to bring up the Kessel run again?"
Han pointed an accusing finger. "Hey my record was never beat; not even you in that dainty ship of yours ever went faster."
Luke sputtered. "Only because I never tried; and my ship is not dainty!"
"Is too."
"You're just jealous that my falcon is better than your Falcon."
Biggs busted up. Han gave him a scathing look and as if on cue; Noc flew in with Fade.
"My Falcon's better," Han grumbled as he left. He patted the doorway consolingly. "Don't listen to him, baby; you're the best."
Now Luke buckled over; at least until he winced and gasped. His stomach still hurt. Biggs took the tray from the bedside table and placed in front of him, ordered him to eat and asked Ben to stay with him.
Biggs pointed a warning finger as he left. "Stay put."
"Yes, Biggs," was the drawled reply.
Biggs only shook his head as he walked out.
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