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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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Luke arrived on the main bridge of the Conqueror in full uniform, increasingly uneasy, barely aware of the wary glances which his Ubiqtorate status drew from the bridge officers on duty. Admitted immediately, he walked into a room empty save for his Master, who stood to its far side staring out across the sprawling hull of the Destroyer. He turned only slowly as Luke, led by the fact that he'd been ordered to wear his uniform, came to a stop and gave a military bow from the neck, clicking his heels together.

Yellow eyes regarded him for long seconds as Luke stood uncomfortably, deeply wary.

"Stand up straight," the Emperor intoned. "When you wear a uniform, you represent my military. You deport yourself with composure and surety."

Though he'd already been standing to tense attention, Luke tried to straighten himself further, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Whatever this was, it was going to be bad. He could feel it gathering at the edges of his awareness now. Could sense it in every movement his Master made, see it in the tone of his voice and the set of his jaw.

"I have come to a decision as to your future," the Emperor said at last, tone brusque, allowing for no dissent.

His future? Luke frowned just slightly. His future was set already—had been for as long as he could remember. He would be an Emperor's Hand. He would travel through the galaxy as the other select few did, doing his Master's bidding. He was waiting only for the release which he knew would soon come…

"On your seventeenth birthday, you will take up your official position as Hand. Your studies will cease, and you will devote yourself to this calling every waking hour, with all due gravity and sincerity."

Exactly as he'd expected…so why did he feel a weight pressing in on him to near-panic?

A brief pause, then his Master continued. "You will not, however, take your leave of the palace—or of me."

Luke's chin lifted a fraction, eyes widening as the Emperor continued, giving him no opportunity to speak.

"You will instead become my bodyguard. My defender. You will do this without absence or respite. Without hesitation or reluctance. You will devote your life to it, every waking hour, as only you can."

It was a body-blow that pushed the air from Luke's lungs. For the longest time he simply stared, seeing his life—any chance at some small sliver of autonomy—evaporate in the course of a few words, spoken with absolute understanding of their damning power yet no allowance made, even now, as Palpatine continued.

"You have told me many times that you would die for me…why did you think I would ask such a thing of you? It is time to grow up and stop holding to foolish, juvenile dreams. You claim that you are not a child any more—prove it now." Palpatine paused, eyes flicking back and forth across Luke's gaze, manner curt and brisk, no attempt at interest feigned. "Say what you have to say."

Given his chance, Luke didn't hesitate. "Why me? Why not Brie or Mara Jade?"

"They have not been trained as you have."

"To be a Hand! To go out into the galaxy and do your bidding, like them—not for this! Trailing around that damn palace behind you when there are others wh…."

The Force-blow hit him squarely in the center of his chest, sending him staggering back several paces, though he held his balance and stayed upright, gasping for breath as his Master ranted.

"I give you the ultimate accolade, and you…you struggle to be free of it!"

"Let me serve, like them!" Until this moment, when he saw it being ripped away, Luke hadn't realized just how much the knowledge that he would eventually be free of all this had meant to him. "Let me be of use, not shuttered up and…"

"Your use is whatever and wherever I deem it to be."

"Let me be of value!"

"You will be. Here, against any and all detractors—against Vader."

"Vader would never turn against you."

"You sensed what I did, in the vision. The dark-cloaked threat. Vader plots against me—now more than ever."

"He doesn't have the strength. He knows it would be his death sentence, because he doesn't have the power to stand against you. He knows that!"

Palpatine smiled as he set forward, gravelly tones shifting from annoyance to dismissive amusement. "Ah, so now that you are finally reaching your potential, you think that power is everything? The very fact that you say such a thing proves how naïve you are." His Master stopped before him, shaking his head in impatient disapproval. "His hold on the Force has weakened, yes, but his resolve only grows… And most of all, he carries no weaknesses, as you do."

"I don't ha—" Luke stopped mid-word as his Master's hand stretched out with the speed of a striking snake— But he only rested one finger beneath Luke's chin, the action stilling his jaw and silencing him.

"No?" Palpatine stepped closer, voice dropping. "Then why do I still look at a blue-eyed boy? Where is my Sith?"

Luke braced for the inevitable string of derision that always came with that accusation…but instead his Master smiled benignly. "You hate this life, I know…but it makes you strong. Feel the power that builds within you to diamond hardness because of it. When the time comes, child, I shall withdraw my protection of Vader…and he shall be yours." His Master held that empty smile for seconds longer, lips trembling just slightly. "I look forward to that day as much as you do—to the spectacle of a duel between Sith, when that glorious power that I have toiled so long to propagate in you, may be turned on him without restraint."

Luke glanced down, uneasy at the realization of what Palpatine was truly offering—knowingly. He pulled the thought in and hid it deep, looking up to meet his Master's eyes, and Palpatine's thin smiled broadened indulgently. "But first, I must see a true Sith's eyes." Again his Master paused portentiously, his own ocher eyes catching the light as he studied Luke's, his hand still to Luke's chin. "Tell me…what do you hold hidden?

Silence stretched taught as Luke stared, heart pounding, composure slipping. "Master?"

Palpatine tilted his head, as if tired of repeating himself. "There is a reason that I look into insipid blue eyes, child, and I have told you what it is. Yet still you hold these petty and undignified amities with lesser beings than ourselves."

Luke glanced down in silence, every possible shield in place as Palpatine nodded slowly.

"You cradle a weakness, knowingly. For some reason that I will never comprehend, you hold it of value. Child, listen to me, and understand; it is not precious, it is costly. These trivial, petty little creatures, they will always, always betray you, in the end."

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Han walked quickly through the corridors of the Relentless, heading for the large tech maintenance room beneath Stellar Engineering, because Luke had admitted once that he used the unimportant and little-accessed room when smoking spice, because had no surveillance.

Luke. Han blanched at the pang of guilt, feeling that taking it even this far was a betrayal, of sorts. But as far as Han could see he was out of choices. This was all he had left—presuming that he could make it work.

Inside the big room the huge tertiary heatsink which served the holo array for Stellar Engineering hummed, taking the majority of the space though he was easily able to walk around its bulk, which disappeared down several levels behind a safety rail.

Reaching the far side of the room he fumbled for his comlink—and his eyes paused on his own uniform as he remembered the kid's words to him, about his wearing an Imperial uniform—about taking his pay and toeing the line. Because the kid was right...it was just that he was looking at the thing from the wrong side.

It wasn't enough to object in words alone; to grumble and moan, but still put that uniform on every morning. To keep on saying that things should change, but never be the one who would step out of line and make them.

Lifting his comlink, Han keyed in the code Leia had given him…then paused, before he transmitted, in realization of the fact that he had absolutely no idea what to say, how to start this going. Already half of him was saying he couldn't do this to the kid, even while the other half was talking himself into comming her.

His hand was actually shaking as he pressed transmit. She answered quicker than he'd expected, her voice full of concern.

"Han?"

"Hey." His mouth was suddenly dry. He couldn't do this.

"What's wrong?" It was the concern in her voice, the warmth, the memory of those big brown eyes that made him push on.

"I uh…I needed to talk to you about something."

"Hold on…" He could hear her walking; hear a ship-style door slide open and closed, grinding slightly on old runners. "Okay, I'm alone. Are you alright?"

"Fine, yeah. Good. You?"

"I'm…I'm sorry I couldn't speak before, when you commed on the night that Luke and I... I had a lot on my mind."

"S'okay. I got a lot on mine, right now."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think…yeah, I think I am. Or…I will be, if you'll help me."

"Help you how?"

"I…I need asylum."

"What?"

"You said…you once said there was no dishonor in acknowledging that I'd made a bad decision when I was young, and I chose to put this uniform on—it only became a mistake if I didn't do something about it, now."

"…I remember that." There was an edge of subdued hope in her voice.

"Well, I'm doin' somethin' about it, and I need asylum. Can you offer it, on behalf of the Rebellion?" He had to do it this way, though he knew damn well that the kid wouldn't see it like that. But he'd said it enough times—that they couldn't keep on doing this any more.

Sometimes…sometimes, you had to sacrifice everything, for even a chance to start again.

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"Tell me, if I asked you to sacrifice…would you?" Barely a half step away from Luke, Palpatine's voice was quiet, but no less dangerous for it.

Standing before the wide run of lozenge-shaped, floor to ceiling viewports in the ominous silence of the conference room onboard the Conqueror, his dark-dressed form was framed by the view of the massive Destroyer's hull and the dense blackness of deep space beyond.

Luke blinked, searching to place the remembered words, but…he tensed, and instantly stopped himself as the memory replayed in his head, of kneeling before his Master in the throne room, his hand on the throne's armrest, his own lightsaber grating against the fine bones in the back of his hand, held there by Palpatine; "If I asked you to sacrifice…would you?"

"You want to prove yourself, child," his Master asked. "To be truly free?"

Luke took a breath to speak—but something broke it in his throat, something cold and portentous which rose up like a wraith from the shadowed edges of his awareness. Palpatine's eyes remained on him, and knowing that his Master had sensed his twist of doubt Luke rallied to remove it, though when he spoke his voice was quiet and wary. "…Yes."

Palpatine nodded approvingly, a thin smile coming to his bloodless lips as he studied Luke's face for a long time…then he turned and walked to the huge desk whose flawlessly polished surface reflected the ice-cold expanse of space beyond, which seemed now to seep in through every viewport. "I gave you this test when you were eleven, and you failed dismally. Don't disappoint me again."

"Test?"

Reaching out, his Master activated the holo set into the desk's surface. Two images flickered into life and rose up into the air. Standard ID turnarounds, one depicted Indo, the other Han. Instantly Luke backstepped in realization, feeling the memory strike as keenly as any physical blow.

The Emperor brought his cool and pitiless gaze to him. "It is time to clear the boards. To once again wipe out a past that should have no bearing on your future."

Luke backed up another three fast steps, all composure gone, his demeanour reduced to that of a child as he clenched a hand to his chest in realization of what Palpatine was leading to. "Don't…don't make me choose."

Palpatine smiled as he set his head to one side. "Choose? I would have thought that this time, at least the decision was a foregone conclusion. Viscount Indo is clearly no longer of use to you…ah, but then, what real use is Solo? Yes, I see your predicament. A difficult choice indeed."

Voiceless, Luke could only hunch back beneath his Master's mocking indulgence, vivid memories assaulting him, breath coming shallow as his chest tightened.

"But a choice you have to make, none the less," Palpatine grated, unmoved. "You are no longer a child, and you will not carry such flaws. You will not nurse these failings as if they have value. You will not divide your attention nor diminish your motivation."

Luke shook his head, voice reduced to a broken appeal. "I don't—I've never once…"

"You think I am blind?" Palpatine declared, hand slamming to the wide desk. "You think me incapable of seeing the petty little attachments you form? I believed that time would see these failings diminish, but when you finally begin to distance yourself from Viscount Indo, it seems that you do so simply to replace him with another. I thought I had made this very clear to you, but apparently not, so I shall say it again. I am the only constant in your life. I am its center, its foundation. I am the only one you look to. No one else, ever. You know that."

The silence blared as his Master glared, fuming, eyes ablaze…then let out the smallest laugh, pale skin creasing into deep folds as he walked around the wide desk and towards Luke, who backstepped just once as his Master closed. Palpatine didn't slow until he stood near enough to reach out and take Luke's jawline in his cool hand, the motion so unexpected that Luke flinched back…but his Master only smiled, voice gentle, affectionate, almost. "For you, I have done this before—removed those who would weaken you, divide your attention…and for you, I will do it again, without hesitation. If I remove them, you know that it shall be both…and you know that it will not be easy. However…if you wish to save one, then the method is simple enough, you know that. You need simply kill the other."

"I can't…"

"Then do nothing…and I will destroy them both."

"Please—"

"For you, I do this, child," his Master said again, over Luke's inarticulate plea. "To make you strong. Such petty and base connections, they are not the Sith way. Viscount Indo has been too close for too long, you know that. And Solo…his wayward guidance has served a great purpose in instigating within you the strength to bring your powers to the fore. But no matter what he has enabled you to achieve, it is tempered by the weakness he begets, simply in being here. No…he has outlived his value. His final and most significant lesson will be in his removal. Child…" Palpatine let his cold, cupped hand trail gently along Luke's jawline and drop to rest lightly against the throat it had many times tightened about, his thumb resting on the pulse of Luke's neck as it raced. "If you are strong enough to do this yourself, then you will, I promise, step free of all the vulnerabilities and pains of your childhood, all of these cloying and crushing limitations, and you will become a man—a worthy. A Sith."

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"I think…" Han paused, then said it aloud into the comlink. He'd better get used to the idea. "I think it's time to leave…will you help me?"

"To do what?" Leia asked, breathless. "Leave the Empire, or join the Alliance?"

"Both, I guess." Funny, how he basked in the sound of her smile when she next spoke.

"I knew there was more to you than that damn uniform!"

"Sweetheart, you don't know the half of it. Question is, would it be safe there, for an ex-Imperial?"

"You'd be surprised how many we get. One of our best Generals is an ex-Imperial tactician."

"Madine." Han knew of him by reputation; the highest-ranking Imperial ever to defect. "So I wouldn't, y'know, get court-martialled or anything?"

"Not when you come to us voluntarily, of course not. Why would you be?"

"And what if I didn't?"

"I don't understand…"

"You know when you said that there was more to me than this uniform? Well you were right, there is. There's a whole other uniform—and that one's Ubiqtorate."

"You're not Ubiqtorate."

"No, but Luke is, and I'm bringing him with me." Had she thought for one moment that he'd leave the kid behind? Luke had cited often enough to Han that running was pointless, because Palpatine would find him—well let him try to find the kid there! He'd thrown the whole damn Imperial military machine at the Rebel Alliance for nearly two decades, and it was still around. "It's not enough to get him away from Palpatine, I need to get him outside of the
Old Man's reach—and there's just one place in the universe that I think I can do that. And there's just one woman I know who can help me."

Leia was silent for a worryingly long time. When she finally spoke, the confusion was clear in her voice—and he could swear it was mixed with a huge great hunk of hope. "Luke actually wants to defect?"

"Aaaah…no. That's the problem bit."

"I don't understand."

"If I bring him…it won't be by his choice. I may…you know, need a little help keepin' him there, at first." Forget about weaning him off spice, this would be an attempt to wean him off of Palpatine's influence—and that was the real addiction, the real dependence. The Old Man had seen to that. The spice was just a way to deal with it.

Why hadn't he seen all this before—why hadn't he connected all the dots and seen this way out? How many times had he said that he couldn't sit by and watch Luke slowly spiral down any more, but done nothing, because he'd had no idea what to do. How many times had he watched the kid struggle so hard, and drag himself so damn far…then get knocked back down, because the Old Man had such a hold on him. This was the answer, this was the way out—but it had taken Han's slow recognition that he couldn't serve the Empire any more, to realize the one place where he and the kid could safely go. He had no idea if Luke would ever forgive him…but he'd risk that. He'd take that hit, and just hope to hell he could change it, given time.

Yeah, time was what he'd need…and he wasn't entirely sure he could get that without a Jedi and a whole damn Rebel army to gain it.

Leia, it turned out, didn't seem that sure even with them. "You're asking me to bring a Sith into the Alliance—against his wishes. Do you know what he's capable of?"

"He's not like them. You gotta understand, what you're seein' is what Palpatine's trained the kid to do all his life."

"I do understand—that's what I'm afraid of."

"But he's growing up and he's getting a mind of his own and he's askin' questions—and the Old Man doesn't like that, believe me. It's going against everything Luke's been taught, everything he's ever known, and he's tearing himself apart in the process, but he's…he's still trying. And I know you think he's Sith, and I understand why, I really do, but…I don't even know what to tell you. All I can say is, he's not. He's not like them—trust me on that one."

The line remained silent for long seconds, and when Leia's voice came, it was soft and uncertain. "I want to, Han, I really do."

"Then do it! I know him, I know exactly what's goin' on in his head. And yeah, the kid's belligerent and he's confrontational and every damn time he even thinks he's starting to actually trust someone he does somethin' stupid to sabotage it without even realizing it, which enables him to back off—I know that! Because that's a massive leap of faith, with not a damn thing in his whole life so far to back it up…but hell, I remember when I'd've done the same. That's why I understand him; because someone once gave me that same opportunity—that same faith. Someone stuck it out and went the distance for me, and she turned my life around completely. And now it's my turn." He paused, still surprised how easy it was, if you took that leap in the dark and let yourself care. "He just…he just needs somebody in his life to finally hang on in there and not give up on him."

Leia remained silent, and Han was aware of speaking too quickly in his effort to get everything over in the kid's defense. "We've had so much in common in our lives, he's like a little brother…I mean, an incredibly frustrating, unpredictable, explosive little brother, I admit that, but from what I hear, that's what they're all like anyway, and…his heart's in the right place, I know it is. He wouldn't have hurt Kenobi, even if Vader hadn't turned up. He might have been pretty full-on hacked-off at him, but he would have backed off, like he did with you. He sure as hell wouldn't have known that Vader was followin' him that night—you know that, right?"

"I think…I think I do." She sounded distant, surprised at her own admission.

"Vader and Luke've been at each other's throats for years, he'd never tell Vader anything, let alone about you."

The silence held for long seconds, then he heard her light sigh. "He hasn't…told you anything about…"

"About what?"

"Luke…he told me something very important that night we fought, and I just didn't know how to handle it in that moment, so I ran. I've been trying to get in contact with him ever since, on the comm code he gave me, but it seems inactive."

"He might have left it on Coruscant. I'll pass it on—in fact, help me, and speak to him face to face."

"Han, I want to help you. I absolutely want to help Luke, but…he makes it very hard."

"Sometimes, what Luke says and what he's really thinking are at odds. You gotta know him well enough to spot it, but let me tell you, he does it all the time, even to himself." Luke was the very thing that he'd once accused Han of—that was probably why he'd thought to make the accusation in the first place, and with such frustration. He was the man who put that uniform on, and lived under the roof and answered the commands of the Emperor…but somewhere in there, at his very core, he knew it was wrong. He knew it—because occasionally, under pressure, a little of that leaked out into his actions.

It was so obvious! Kid tried so hard to toe the party line, but deep inside, at the very core of him, he didn't want to. He did so because of Palpatine—only that. That was why sometimes his words and actions were so at odds. Because the kid himself was.

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In the still silence Palpatine watched the boy falter at his demand. Sensed the panic which radiated from him, unchecked, at his memory of past trials. He wanted to answer his Master's command, wanted to obey as he always did, the controls planted in that seven-year-old boy now deeply embedded. But something held back, something at the very core of him.

The boy had failed this test last time—but then Palpatine had given it knowing that he would, manipulating its outcome to gain him the unbreakable hold which he still maintained on the boy, today. The exclusive secret which bound them together. Death could be a powerful thing to a young child—death of someone as close as one's parents even more so…deaths blamed on the child himself the ultimate hold. It had affected the eleven-year-old child that Antilles had been at the time deeply, had taken what was left after four years of Palpatine's absolute domination, and broken him apart entirely…but then, that had always been the intention. The overload of emotion which would numb all else, the guilt which would bind the boy to him.

He could easily work to persuade the boy to act on his present command, he knew; could slowly twist the knife even as he tightened the leash. Antilles would listen, as he'd always been taught to. Palpatine's hold on him was just as absolute as it had been on Darth Maul; as it presently was on Mara Jade and Shira Brie—acolytes gained in childhood were always the most loyal and tractable. But this was not about persuasion, it was about compliance. Capitulation. Willing consent. So he remained silent, watching fleeting emotions cross the boy's face as he moved from bewilderment to near-panic.

It seemed, to Palpatine, such a small thing that he asked; the death of two Aides whom the boy should have no attachment to in the first place. Far less than his demand just weeks ago, when he had pressed a lightsaber against the back of Antilles' hand. The boy had tensed then, willing to take that trial…but Palpatine had invested years in training him to think little of his own safety. And he knew that sometimes, with the boy, what seemed the lesser test so clearly held the greater cost.

And now was the time to test; to push his advocate on, to take him to the next level.

Antilles took a half-staggered step back, eyes dropping as he backed down, guilt-ridden, because he knew already that he couldn't make the decision. Palpatine let him babble, having known that he would. Let him apologize again and again, without pushing him further—not yet.

Instead he accepted the apologies with patronizing disdain, underlining the boy's belief that he was at fault for being unable to act. Let him think on that, for a few sleepless nights; think on his own failings, on his weakness and limitations. On the futility of them—because one way or another, Antilles would make a decision and he would act upon it—even if Palpatine had to hold the boy's hand to the lightsaber as he made the killing blow.

But for now he played the gracious mentor and shook his head, stepping in close again because he knew how uneasy it made his charge, as he lifted his hand to push the boy's unruly hair gently back from his eyes, his tone dripping empty indulgence.

"Don't apologize, child—not to me. It is yourself whom you are failing, yet again. It means nothing to me, to complete this task if you are unable. Nothing, to turn what could have been a mercifully quick demise into a tortuous slaughter. That is what makes me stronger than you. This would always happen one day, you most surely knew that? It will happen every time I see that you allow another beneath those flawed shields. I have always told you, there can be only one focus in the life of an Emperor's Hand. Only one allegiance." He paused to smile munificently. "But I will grant you time to find your resolve. You have until our return to Coruscant, then I will bring Solo and the Viscount together…and you will make a choice, and act upon it. Use this time wisely, child; sever connections. They only ever weaken you. Show me your strength, show me your resolve. Show me your true worth."

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"He just needs some time." Huddled to the back of the room, with the heatsink humming over the pointed silence from the comlink in his hand, Han argued the kid's corner. "Time away from Palpatine. The old man's been his life, he's made sure of that. He won't let anyone else even close. That's why the kid won't let anyone in—it's like he's afraid to, for some reason."

"I know he…" Leia hesitated, her voice barely audible on Han's comlink, over the heatsink's thrum, "he didn't want to duel me."

"He went there intending to let you take a pop at him, nothing more. He just didn't count on your doin' it with a lightsaber in your hand. C'mon, you know how many times he's tried to protect you. It didn't work with Kenobi, but he still got you out. You think that wasn't at risk to himself? You should see what Palpatine does, when he thinks the kid's showing even a glimmer of autonomy—you should see what he does to him. But Luke still protected you over the Death Star. Palpatine put him in the medicenter for that—without even knowing about you, just because the kid had been there…and Luke knew he'd face a hell of a lot worse, if helped you—believe me, he knew. But he still did it."

"I'll help him."

"Plus…what?"

"I said, I'll help him."

Han blinked, speechless for a second. He was barely halfway through his spiel to persuade her! "You don't want to know why? I got it all worked out…"

She laughed, and it came out as a breathy sigh over the comlink. "Then you're doing better than me, Han Solo. I'm going on gut instinct here. I'm closing my eyes and making a leap in the dark."

Han too, laughed. "Welcome to my life, sweetheart!"

And how the hell did the kid make people do that, with not a damn thing to back it up? Or was it just him and Leia? Han grinned wider, 'cos if it was, didn't that make it better still? "Clearly we're on the same wavelength, here."

"Unfortunately it won't be our choice that counts."

"What d'you mean?"

"I can't make that kind of decision independently. I can't just bring a Sith onboard a Rebel ship. I want to help him…but I can't endanger the Alliance to do so—and believe me, that's what everyone will see."

"What about your leader…Mothma?"

"Mon?"

"Can't you speak to her, tell her what he's worth?"

She hesitated. "Worth?"

"You said you want someone who understands Palpatine, who knows your enemy inside out? That's Luke—that's the kid. I can tell you for a fact that he knows exactly how Palpatine thinks, because I've heard him call the points so often—what Palpatine's real motives are, what he's setting in place, what he's hiding behind more obvious moves. Luke's grown up in close contact with Palpatine, like no one else, ever. He knows him inside out—how he reasons, how he reacts… and the military—he's exactly the same there. It's what he's been brought up with. He knows procedures, codes, high level stuff. Knows how all the big players think. You want to talk Luke up in front of your boss, tell her that."

"That's all dependent on Luke's helping them—voluntarily."

"We'll sort that out when the time comes," Han said uneasily, aware that he was skimming over a mammoth hurdle there…in fact, this whole crazy scheme was one big, planet-sized hurdle, from beginning to end. But hey, one ridiculously unlikely problem at a time. "For now, I got a chance to get Luke out in the next few days. Now's the time to do it, because we're not on Coruscant, we're part of an armada, and we're about to make an unscheduled stop. After that, we're either at high-security installations or in lightspeed again until we get back to Coruscant, then depending on the kid's assignments we might not be travellin' on our own away from Coruscant for months afterwards. But we're makin' an unscheduled stop at some drydock near Corsin in the early hours of the morning, I think. That means that security'll be less organized, and we're only half the time with Palpatine anyway. That's my best chance, so I need to get a deal in place by—"

"Where did you say the drydock was?"

"Uh…near Corsin. Drydock IV. It's the supply dock for the Rim systems turnwise of Coruscant and—"

"I know where it is. Han, you can't be there—not unless you arrive and leave within the next day."

It was the gravity of her voice which stopped him cold.

"Why?"

"I can't tell you, you just…" She paused… "Wait, did you say Palpatine was part of the armada?"

"Palpatine is the armada."

"Palpatine is with you, right now, heading to the Imperial Drydock at Corsin?"

"Yeah. We're goin' to lightpeed within the hour. That'll be our last jump to get there, I think." He waited, but the line remained silent for a long time. "Leia….Leia?"

"Oh, Han…" Her voice was low, loaded with emotion. "Do you have any idea of the opportunity you've just given us? Do you know what this is worth?"

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True worth…that was what his Master had said; show his true worth, Luke reflected in bitter silence, as the shuttle slipped through space towards the Relentless. But they both knew what that really was; nothing, save for Luke's ability to obey a command without question. And he couldn't even do that, he knew. Not really. So what was he worth?

He sat still and withdrawn, wishing for the old numbness to return as real life closed in about him again—his life. He'd spent years cultivating the art of feeling nothing, of being safely removed from all of the complications that this particular life pressed in on him. But in the last few months all of that had been lost, as the walls that had kept him safe had begun to crumble. He'd taken outrageous risks—saved prisoners, helped Kenobi, let Leia go free, protected her…lied to Palpatine to do it—actually lied, to his Master's face!

…And yet he couldn't bring himself to regret them. Their results, and the fact that he'd deceived his Master, yes, completely…but the acts…no.

All because Solo had allowed him to hope, to need something other than the dour, dismal life he was destined to lead. Because Solo had let him think that there could somehow be something more for him. And briefly, stupidly, he'd actually begun to believe him…to trust him. For one single, star-bright moment, he'd hoped…

But already that star was crumbling and collapsing under the weight of its own impossibility, and once again he was that child in his dreams, just steps from the bright light but with the cloying shadows forever closing in about him, and that monster…that monster in the darkness reaching out to claim him and drag him back. And it was just too hard to hope any more. He'd been pulled back into those shadows too often to be prepared to try again. He couldn't take that chance, couldn't survive that fall one more time.

It was just too dangerous to try, when he could see all that he'd craved slipping away. And worse…worse, was what was at stake. Han needed to go, and it had to be now, because if he didn't…if he didn't Luke genuinely feared that somehow he'd eventually capitulate, no matter how reluctantly, and do as his Master commanded. How could he not?

No, better to have such risks safely gone. Better to fall back into his life as it had always been, a numb, spice-wrapped solitude with no risks, no pain, no loss…no hope. Better to let it all slide away than to keep on struggling to hold on to some broken travesty of what he could never have—what he was never meant to have.

Better to feel nothing, than to feel this.

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"This changes everything." Leia's voice was charged with subdued excitement and raw hope. "This could change absolutely everything, Han. This is…this is the opportunity we never thought we'd have."

"Wait, all I'm tryin' to do here is get the kid safely away. That's hard enough without—"

"Palpatine is part of the armada en-route to the Corsin drydock, right now?" She'd dropped to the kind of focused concentration that demanded an answer.

"I told you, Palpatine is the armada. He's making the tour of some of his high-security installations—to crack the whip, I think. But first we're makin' an unscheduled stop at Corsin Drydock, so the Old Man can speak to some Moff."

"How long is he staying?"

Han hesitated; this was all so unnatural to him, to impart this kind of information; stuff that he knew damn well was classified. Part of him trusted her like he trusted the kid, but he knew she was part of the Rebellion, too. But wasn't he, now? And it wasn't even because of this conversation—not really. He'd been slowly committing to this for a long time…it had just never had a name before—a focus. "I don't know," he said slowly at last. "I could try to find out."

"How many Destroyers are in your convoy?"

"Five, altogether."

"Plus four at the drydock."

"…How d'you know that?"

"Han…if we needed your help to pin down which Destroyer Palpatine is on at a certain moment at the Corsin Drydock, would you do it?"

"Seriously? You think you're just gonna show up there and take some random potshot at him? You think it's that easy?"

"No. Han, I can't tell you anything more, but would you help us?"

"Okay, you just said yourself there'll be nine Star Destroyers there—nine! You know how many fighter compliments a single Star Destroyer has? You know how many guns it has?"

"Han, you told me a long time ago—when I asked you whether Luke would ever help the Alliance—you said it was complicated. I told you then that we simply needed to remove the complication. Well, that's Palpatine. He's the complication. You say you want to get Luke away from all this, but you know yourself that even if you do, he'll always go back to Palpatine. The only way you'll stop that is to help us get rid of him. Permanently."

Han remained silent, wondering if Leia had any idea what she was asking of him. He'd come into this conversation thinking he'd have to persuade her, and now she was doing the same to him, as she pressed on urgently.

"You're in an unprecedented position. You've ended up incredibly close to the Emperor almost by default. He controls everyone around him, and everyone there is hand picked for their loyalty—everyone. But because of Luke, you've slipped in beneath that net. You have the opportunity so very few do—to make a difference. A huge difference—a real one—at the source of the problem. Help us."

And what had he thought himself, earlier, about it not being enough to grumble and moan, yet do nothing to change things? He'd commed Leia with that myopic little view of Luke and himself in mind, looking for her help to keep the kid safe. And she was right, that wasn't enough. Right again, in that if he could, the kid would always go back to Palpatine. But that didn't mean to say that Han could do a damn thing about it. He bit his lip; this was insanity! "Just because you have the Old Man out of Coruscant, that doesn't mean he'll be undefended."

"You said yourself this is an unscheduled stop."

"Surrounded by nine Star Destroyers!"

"All I need you to do is take a comlink and leave it open on a set channel at a set time, on the Emperor's destroyer, so that we can pinpoint it. Then you need to get off the Destroyer—you need to do that no matter what, understand?"

"And then?"

"We'll pick you up. Either way, we'll pick you both up, I promise. I'll come myself, if I have to. Will you help us?"

Han hesitated… "You get that deal for Luke, and I'll do it. Whatever the hell you think you've got a shot at, you need the right destroyer in the first place, and I can give you that—but on my terms. I want Luke's guaranteed safety, and his immunity from any prosecution. Tell Mothma that."

"Stay right where you are," she said, fire in her voice. "Don't go anywhere."

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Sitting alone in the tech room waiting for her to get back to him, Han wondered what the hell she had in mind. Wondered what had been going through his own, when he'd agreed to plant the comlink.

More than anything else, sitting in a dark corner of the noisy and cluttered room, he wondered how the hell he was gonna persuade a wary, unwilling Luke Antilles to leave with him, when he'd planted that comlink…and what he was gonna do if—when—he wouldn't.

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To be continued…..

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