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Nine
(In This Moment)
The skies above Naboo were filled with explosions, wreckage, and hundreds of ships racing back and forth in furious battle.
The wreckage of the Vengeance still burned, drifting slowly away as its lights died one by one. The grand schemes of the Director died with it, leaving only a sense of defeat and shame at the mutiny.
On the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer Razor's Kiss, Admiral Lorth Needa heaved a resigned sigh as he watched the Executor, the Eclipse, and the Rebel ships mercilessly chase the remains of Director Isard's once-mighty fleet around the Naboo system.
"Admiral, a large group of ships is approaching our rear quarter," the junior sensor officer called up to him from the port crew pit. "I believe they are targeting our engines."
Needa made up his mind in that moment. "Give me broad-band," he ordered. "I want this to go out to all ships, even the Rebels."
"Yes, sir," said the comm officer.
Admiral Piett stood on the command walkway in Executor's bridge, next to Grand Admiral Thrawn. He turned his head as the comm officer looked up at him and said, "Transmission incoming from the Razor's Kiss, sir. It's addressed to all ships."
"Put it through," Piett ordered.
"This is Admiral Lorth Needa of the Imperial Star Destroyer Razor's Kiss," Needa's voice said from the bridge speakers. "As the surviving senior officer, I hereby take command of the Director's fleet. All ships, stand down. I repeat, stand down."
Outside, the storm of blaster fire slowly trickled away as first the mutineers' ships ceased fire, then the Alliance commanders ordered their vessels to stand down, as well.
Piett listened in anticipation, hardly daring to believe what he knew he would hear next.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn," Needa said, his voice heavy with resignation.
"Here, Admiral," Thrawn said.
A life-size hologram of Admiral Needa flickered into being several meters in front of them on the command walkway.
"As commander of the fleet," Needa began, his posture stiff, with his fists clenched at his sides, "I hereby surrender these vessels unconditionally to your authority."
Thrawn paused for only a moment, taking a few steps forward along the walkway with his hands clasped behind his back. "Your surrender is accepted, Admiral," he said finally.
The Grand Admiral turned to pass his gaze across the bridge crew. "Thrawn to all Imperial ships," he said. "Deactivate your weapons systems and await further orders."
"Is it really over?" Piett said excitedly.
Thrawn nodded once. "It is over, Admiral," he replied. "But our most difficult task is yet to come."
Looking out at the wreckage of hundreds of ships drifting outside, Piett took a slow, deep breath. Yes, the fighting was over here in this system, but the rest of the Empire remained to be retaken from the conspirators.
And still, there had been no word from the Emperor.
On Korriban, Luke knelt at Malysa's side, trying to heal her wound. He could feel her slipping away, though, despite his best efforts and those of Mara.
Malysa's brother Tyraj watched them both anxiously, cradling her head in his lap. Around them stood the surviving stormtroopers and Royal Guards that had accompanied them here, watching as the Jedi tried to heal the young woman.
In the back of his mind, Luke could sense Korriban's sun roiling, its nuclear furnace irreparably damaged. It was only a matter of time before the sun went supernova, taking the rest of the system with it.
But even as Luke began to feel the first creeping fingers of despair wrapping around his heart, he heard the powerful rumble of starship engines.
Astonished, Luke and the others stared up into the sky at the rapidly approaching shape of a ship. As it drew closer, Luke recognized the elongated oval and stabilizer fins of Boba Fett's Slave I, and he let his surprise show plainly on his face.
He glanced over at Mara to see her with a similarly surprised expression. "If you'd asked me who was the last person in the galaxy I thought would show up here…" she said, eyes locked on the incoming craft.
"Quickly, move!" Vader barked to his guards.
As Slave I rapidly descended through the atmosphere, pivoting to touch down on the blood-red ground, the Royal Guards and stormtroopers gathered in formation around the Emperor, two of them hanging back to help carry Malysa. R2-D2 twittered to himself in electronic relief as he rolled over to them, stopping next to Vader.
"Get in!" Fett's voice blared from external speakers on the outside of his starship.
Tyraj Kolos was the last up the ramp, his helmet in one hand and his sister's lightsaber in the other. "We're in!" he shouted as he ducked through the hatchway.
Fett's starship was already lifting free of the ground, accelerating with a roar from its powerful engines.
Inside, Luke braced himself against the scarred metal wall of the main hold, holding on against the inertial forces threatening to pull his skull down out through his feet. As the inertial dampeners finally caught up with Slave I's acceleration, Luke followed his father up the ladder to the cockpit, where the armored bounty hunter sat, adjusting his systems.
"My thanks for your timely arrival, Hunter Fett," Vader said as he slipped into one of the chairs behind the central console.
"When we get out of here, you can thank me with a bonus to what Thrawn promised," said Fett, not taking his eyes off his instruments. "It's going to be close."
Luke buckled himself into the other chair. "Are there any other ships nearby?" he asked.
"I passed a shuttle on my way in," Fett said, accelerating his sublight engines with one hand while he prepared the hyperdrive with the other. "Otherwise, my sensors aren't picking up anything. We're the only ones in the system."
"The sun is going critical," Vader said, reading one of the sensor readouts over Fett's shoulder.
Fett turned his helmet to look at the reading himself. "The calculations should be finished before the shockwave hits us."
Behind them, Korriban's sun flared into supernova, so blindingly bright that even though Fett's cockpit windows automatically darkened to near opacity, Luke had to shield his eyes with his hand.
Slave I shook and rattled as Fett pushed his sublight engines far beyond their maximum limits. Still, they were not fast enough.
Luke looked over at his father, and by unspoken agreement they joined their power to shield the hunter's vessel with the Force as the leading edge of the shockwave rushed up behind them.
"Hyperspace… now!" Fett strained out against the inertial forces, reaching forward to throw the hyperdrive lever.
Slave I leaped into lightspeed, leaving Korriban far behind.
Far below them, thousands of years of Sith history were obliterated as the shockwave generated by the supernova destroyed the planet Korriban.
The dry, rocky sphere crumbled into billions of fragments, flying apart before the wall of flame and light destroyed them and everything else in the Horuset system.
On hundreds of worlds, as the light from the supernova expanded outward, a bright spot appeared in the sky to rival even the systems' suns in the daytime, a spectacular grave marker for an entire solar system.
Tyraj Kolos held his sister's hand in his own, tossing away his armored gauntlet. In this moment, as she lay dying, Tyraj regretted not telling her sooner that he served on the same vessel she did. It had been foolish, he fiercely rebuked himself, not to tell his sister he was here. He had wasted four years he could have spent with her, out of some suspicion that she may not have been as loyal to the Emperor as she appeared.
Her true loyalties no longer mattered to him. What mattered was that she was his sister, and now she was almost gone.
Mara Jade knelt on his sister's other side, eyes closed in concentration as she held her hands over the wound, but Tyraj could tell that the prognosis was not good.
As if she had sensed his anxiousness, Jade opened her eyes and looked over at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "Healing was never one of my strongest abilities."
Tyraj set his mouth in a firm line, nodding gravely as he looked back down at Malysa. She had slipped into unconsciousness, and he feared that her fingers were even now growing cold between his own.
Jade finally sat back on her heels, lowering her hands to her sides. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, looking up at him sadly. "I'm sorry," she said. "She's gone."
Skywalker's astromech droid whistled sadly, leaning forward slightly on its stumpy legs as if bowing its head in grief.
Tyraj clamped down on his emotions with the iron will given to him by his training, his face hardening into a grim mask. Though he heard footsteps on the cockpit ladder behind him, he did not turn.
"Is she…?" Skywalker asked quietly, walking over to them.
Jade nodded silently. Skywalker reached out his hand, and Jade took it, getting to her feet.
At a second, heavier set of footsteps along the bare metal floor of Boba Fett's vessel, Tyraj stood and whirled to face the Emperor. "Lord Vader, please," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Is there anything you can do for her?"
Darth Vader stared down at Malysa's body for a long moment, until finally he gave a slight nod. He looked over at Skywalker and Jade. "Luke, Mara, I will need your assistance."
Skywalker nodded. He and Jade arranged themselves on either side of Malysa, while Vader moved to kneel by her head.
As Tyraj watched, the three of them joined hands and closed their eyes in concentration, drawing deeply upon the mysterious power they wielded. Tyraj could see nothing, but he felt as though a crackling static charge permeated the air, a bright light whirling around the three of them that was just beyond the limits of his vision.
They sat like this for several long minutes, none of them moving, and Tyraj began to pace impatiently. Just as he began to despair, thinking that they had failed, he noticed the wound in his sister's chest seal over and rapidly fade, healing at a vastly accelerated rate.
Tyraj's spirit soared as his sister suddenly sucked in a deep breath and sat up, clutching one hand to the spot on her chest where the wound had been as her eyes shot open. As Skywalker moved aside, Tyraj dropped to his knees beside his sister and pulled her into a tight embrace, fighting back tears of joy. He felt her arms go around him in return, and he found himself laughing in relief.
"Thank you," he said to Skywalker and Jade.
Then, remembering himself and his Imperial discipline, Tyraj straightened and brought his hand up into a salute as he faced his Emperor, forcing his face back into a soldier's mask.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "If there is anything I can do to repay you, please tell me."
Vader's expression was unreadable, but finally he nodded once in acknowledgment. "Dismissed, trooper," he said. "Go back to your sister."
Tyraj fought the urge to grin, instead turning gravely away from his commander-in-chief to cross back to where Malysa still sat on the deck. When she smiled at him as he approached, his regrets faded away, replaced with a profound sense of relief and lightness of spirit.
Han paused in repairing the Millennium Falcon, watching from his perch atop his beloved freighter as Boba Fett's starship glided into the Executor's hangar bay. The menacing hunting craft hissed and ticked as it cooled down, and Han watched it warily for several moments.
He and his friends had mostly been left alone to fix their ship during the aftermath of the battle, quietly working down in the hangar as Thrawn organized the remnants of the Imperial fleet and began the cleanup, ordering the mutineers to haul the biggest pieces of wreckage out of Naboo airspace while they waited for the Emperor to arrive and pronounce their punishment.
When the hatch opened, the first ones down the ramp were three Royal Guards, their red robes and helmets singed, scorched and filthy with thick red dust. Behind them came several equally battered stormtroopers, blaster rifles held at an angle across their chests, and then the tall dark figure of Darth Vader, whose uniform was also scorched and streaked with red dirt.
Vader seemed to sense Han looking at him, and his eyes passed over the freighter and those working on it, but he said nothing, heading directly out of the hangar without looking back.
Next out of Slave I came Luke, Mara, R2-D2, Malysa Kolos and a stormtrooper who didn't have his helmet on, and last of all, Boba Fett himself.
Everyone except Fett made their way over to the Falcon; the bounty hunter himself paused only long enough to fix Han with a cold look behind the T-slit of his Mandalorian helmet before moving off into the depths of the flagship.
Luke waved up at Han, and the Corellian waved back, shifting himself to the edge of the hull. "Everyone's back in one piece, it seems," he said.
"More or less," Malysa called up to him wryly. She turned to Luke. "I'm going to the medical bay."
Luke nodded, waving once as she and the stormtrooper left.
"You missed quite a battle, kid," Han called down. "I was there and I still don't believe it happened."
Mara chuckled wryly. "Same goes for us."
Han waved them over. "Well, come on in and tell us about it; we're gonna be here for a while."
Several hours later, Darth Vader sat alone in his quarters aboard his flagship Executor, exerting every ounce of his will to restrain himself from flying into a terrible rage.
Thrawn and the Rebel fleet had triumphed here today, but the damage was done; his Empire was fragmented and broken, splitting into more factions all the time as the remaining admirals and moffs warred with one another, fighting to claim the title the Senate had proclaimed no longer belonged to him.
They could have it, Vader thought bitterly. If they refused to see, refused to rally beneath his banner to present a strong defense against the threat facing them all, then they were no longer worthy of his rulership.
He had tried through more than twenty years of struggle and upheaval to bring back peace, but the stubborn denizens of this galaxy insisted on rebelling against him, insisted on conspiring and plotting and fighting against him.
Staring out of the wide viewport down at his wife's home planet, Vader made his decision. Crossing to the comm unit, he began his preparations.
The streets of Theed were filled with overjoyed Naboo celebrating the defeat of Isard's fleet and the sparing of their planet. Inside the Royal Palace, the heroes of the Battle of Naboo and the duel at Korriban gathered for their own celebration. Notably absent were any Imperial personnel besides Tyraj Kolos, who stood with his sister wearing an off-duty uniform.
The Alliance leadership had invited the Imperial commanders down to celebrate the declaration of truce with them, but all declined, remaining behind on their vessels in orbit.
Luke sat on a plush couch in one of the enormous halls in the palace with Mara, listening to their friends' conversations around them.
"All right," Han was saying to Lando, "I want to know two things: One, who's Talon Karrde? Two, how'd you get him and all those other people to come here?"
"Well, after that little maneuver at the Battle of Tanaab," Lando replied, grinning, "let's just say quite a few people owed me one. Now, as for Karrde, he's a smuggler, and a damn good one, too. When Jabba died and Vader seized his holdings, Karrde sort of quietly moved in to take over his territory and operations; if you want something done fast and discreet, he's the guy to go to now."
"So how'd you convince a guy like that to come here and risk his neck for us?" Han asked.
Lando's eyes twinkled as he took a sip from his drink. "Professional secret," he said.
Next to Han, Leia smiled as the Corellian chuckled. "Come on," Han said. "How'd you do it?"
Lando took another slow sip of his drink. "Let's just say I've gotten quite a bit better at sabacc."
Han frowned amusedly. "Fine, keep your secrets, you old pirate."
Lando chuckled. "You're the pirate, Solo."
Luke smiled at the exchange, leaning back in his seat. Next to him, Mara was also watching the party, content to sit with him and listen.
He glanced up as he saw C-3PO moving towards him through the throng of people, shifting around and through gathered knots of people making conversation. R2-D2 trundled along behind him, whistling and beeping.
"Oh, Master Luke!" Threepio said as he finally arrived at the couch where Luke and Mara sat. "It's the strangest thing."
"What is?" Luke asked.
"The Executor, Master Luke. It's gone."
"Gone?" Mara said, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean, gone?"
"It's left the system, I'm afraid. As has that other large ship that arrived to help." Threepio half-turned to gesture back at his companion. "Artoo insists that he has a message for you and Mistress Leia, and another for Mistress Padmé, though I have not been able to locate her yet."
"She's right over there, Threepio," Luke said standing up. "Is there somewhere quieter we can go?"
"I believe there is a balcony at the end of this corridor," Threepio replied.
Luke quickly gathered his mother and sister and headed out to the balcony with Mara and Han, who followed them outside. The night sky bloomed with fireworks, and far below on the streets they could faintly hear the partyers reveling, but up here it was relatively quiet.
"Now what's this about a message?" Threepio said to Artoo once they were all gathered around the droids. Luke and Leia stood on either side of their mother, with Mara and Han standing next to them.
Artoo whistled and tweeted, then leaned forward and activated his miniature holoprojector. In front of them appeared a life-size holographic recording of Darth Vader, dressed in his usual black Imperial uniform and cloak. Luke thought he looked stiff and formal, distinctly uncomfortable, and wished his father was here in person so that he could ask him what he was thinking.
After a long moment of silence, Vader finally began. "I am leaving," he said without preamble. "I am taking my vessel and departing for the Unknown Regions. Luke, please do not try to follow me. Your place is here, with your sister and… your mother. There is much work to be done, and you and Leia are the best suited to provide leadership in what will undoubtedly be a time of great upheaval.
"I am ordering the forces still loyal to me to enforce my last command as Emperor. They are to ensure that a truce is negotiated between your new Republic and whatever remains of the Empire when the civil war is over. Pestage is devious, and he cannot be trusted, but he can be made to see reason. You may be able to work out some sort of agreement with him to stop the fighting, if only so that he will be free to deal with his own uprisings.
"There is a storm coming, a threat the likes of which this galaxy has never seen. It is imperative that you work to cease fighting with each other and instead ally yourselves against the coming invasion. If we can present a united front against the invaders, we may yet survive. I am leaving you all the information I have on the Far Outsiders. Please, share it with the galaxy as I should have years ago."
Vader paused for a moment, seeming to be collecting himself before he continued. "Leia," he said, "I know you have not forgiven me for what I have done, nor do I expect you to."
Luke glanced over at his sister to find her watching the image with a troubled mix of emotions. Han silently reached over and took her hand, and she squeezed his fingers gratefully.
"I ask only that you listen," Vader went on. "Do not let your anger consume you, as I let mine. I know that you will never think of me as your father, and that I can never earn your love, but please, let go of your anger. Don't make the same mistakes I did. The Dark Side gives you strength, but it eats away at who you are; don't let yourself follow my path."
He turned slightly, and Artoo angled the projector so that the image was looking at Luke. "Luke, my son," he began, "to you I leave the same advice I gave to your sister; never allow the Dark Side into your heart. It is… too late for me, but you can still have a future with the ones you love. You are a good person, Luke. Never allow yourself to slip away from that. Remember what I told you on Korriban. Remember the difference between being feared and being respected. Perhaps you will be able to accomplish what I could not, if you guard your heart against the darkness."
The image turned toward Luke's mother, and there was a noticeable softening of Vader's expression, especially around the eyes. "Padmé," he said, "I know you can never forgive me for what I did, nor do I deserve to be forgiven, but I just want you to know that… I love you. I always have, and I always will. I have given back the life I took from you, so now do with it as you will. Get to know our children, and watch over them for me while I am gone. I am sorry for all that I have put you through, but I hope that now, without me, you can finally find the happiness you deserve. Goodbye, my angel."
The image of Vader raised a hand in farewell, and then slowly faded away.
Luke saw tears in his mother's eyes. "Oh, Anakin…" she whispered.
He reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she clasped his hand in thanks, smiling through her tears at him. "Thank you," she said. "Now, please, if you don't mind, I would like to be alone for a little while."
"All right," Luke said. With a glance at the others, he departed, heading back inside.
Just before he closed the door to the balcony, Luke heard his mother say softly, "Please play the message again, Artoo."
Luke paused for just a moment, looking back at his mother, but then turned and went inside with his friends.
On the edge of known space, the Executor and the Eclipse met for a final rendezvous. Emperor Skywalker met with Grand Admiral Thrawn and Baron Fel in his quarters aboard the flagship.
Soontir Fel, a tall, broad-chested man with close-cropped dark hair and a trim goatee, stood stiffly in his black-and-red Imperial uniform with his hands clasped behind his back, the perfect picture of military posture.
"You are to be commended for your actions during the battle," Vader said, facing the viewport, his back to Fel.
"Thank you, my lord," Fel replied. "I did only my duty as a loyal soldier of the Empire."
"An increasingly rare motive for action," Vader noted, unable to entirely keep the bitterness from his tone. He paused for a long moment. "Do you consider yourself a fair man, Baron Fel?" he asked finally.
"I… suppose so, my lord," Fel replied.
"The Eclipse is an incredible weapon, is it not?" said Vader.
"It is, my lord," Fel said evenly, his voice betraying none of the confusion Vader nevertheless sensed through the Force.
"Do you trust yourself not to misuse it?" Vader asked, finally turning to look at the other man.
Fel met his gaze resolutely. "Yes, my lord," he answered firmly. "It has incredible potential for devastation, and as such must be used with the utmost caution and forethought."
Vader let his eyes bore into the other man's for a long moment, searching out his true feelings with the Force. Fel was a good soldier, as he already knew, an honorable man with strong convictions and a stronger will.
"Then it is yours," Vader said, turning back to the viewport.
"My lord?" Fel asked, surprised.
"The Eclipse is yours," Vader said again. "Use it to unify as much of the Imperial military as you can against the threat we all know is coming. Keep Pestage and the other bureaucrats in line, and ensure that they do not threaten the peace." He turned to glance over his shoulder at Fel. "I am leaving known space," he said, "but I may someday return. If I do, I expect you to have formed a second line of defense in case the Vanguard Fleet fails. The Far Outsiders cannot be allowed to overrun this galaxy."
"Yes, my lord," Fel said.
"Return to your ship, Baron," Vader said, turning back to the window. "And may the Force be with you."
Fel paused ever so slightly in surprise. "And with you as well, my lord," he replied, then turned and left.
Thrawn moved over to stand next to Vader from where he had been standing silently throughout the conversation. "Orders, Lord Vader?"
"Proceed to Vanguard Base Alpha," Vader replied. "Now we hold the line for as long as we can."
"Yes, sir," said Thrawn. Then he, too turned and left, leaving the Dark Lord alone in his quarters.
Vader remained behind, staring out of the viewport for a long time.
A little while after hearing Vader's message, Leia returned to the balcony to find her mother leaning on the railing, gazing out over the city she called home.
She was about to leave Padmé to her thoughts when her mother said, "He was a good man once."
Leia walked over to the edge of the balcony and joined her mother there.
Padmé looked over at her with a sad smile before continuing. "Anakin never did anything halfway; he was one of those men who saw the world in black and white. Either you were his friend, and he would die to protect you, or you were his enemy, and he would stop at nothing to ensure your destruction."
Leia knew this from having been his enemy for the last several years; Darth Vader was nothing if not determined.
Padmé looked down at her hands, and Leia saw that she held something there, a small necklace made from some kind of carved ivory wood. "He could be so gentle," she said. One corner of her mouth lifted in a small, sad smile. "He had this… sense of humor, a way to keep you from worrying about what was going on, no matter how bad it would get."
"Han is the same way," Leia said.
Padmé smiled. She held up the necklace so Leia could see it. "He carved this for me when we first met. I've always had it with me, ever since." She looked over at Leia. "I know it's hard for you to accept, because you've only ever known him as Darth Vader, but Anakin was one of the kindest men I've ever known. He… he would have made a good father, if he hadn't…"
Leia nodded slowly, reluctantly accepting this. She was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again, looking out at the lights of the city.
"I can forgive Anakin Skywalker," she said finally. She looked over at her mother. "I can accept that he was once a good man, from what you have told me."
Padmé sighed, looking back down at the necklace. "I don't think he can forgive himself," she said. She sighed again. "I wish I hadn't said those things to him. I wish I hadn't called him a monster."
"I said things to him I regret, as well," Leia agreed. "I couldn't see past my own hatred for him to see what he was really trying to do." She reached out to take her mother's hand. "Luke is right. There is still good in him. I just wish I could have seen it before it was too late."
Padmé looked up at the stars overhead, into which her husband had vanished. "Do you think he'll ever come back?"
Leia looked up to the stars, also. "Maybe, someday, when he can give up his anger… Anakin will come back."
Padmé's hand squeezed hers. "I hope so," she said quietly.
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