Imperial Palace
Battle meld. Luke had heard Ben mention it, usually accompanied with aching sadness as the old Jedi obviously remembered, and mourned, the heartbreaking end of his relationship with his former padawan Anakin Skywalker.
"He was the only Jedi with whom I achieved a battle meld," Obi-wan said once, his eyes fixed on a small fire outside his hut on Tatooine, his gaze faraway.
Luke had been humbled by the hushed tone, and wondered if he would ever be good enough, and blessed enough, to achieve a battle meld with another Jedi.
It was beyond his wildest dreams that at the tender age of 19, with almost no experience in battle, he would meld with his father.
But clearly he had. Suddenly, he knew exactly what his father would do, knew exactly how to move his lightsaber to deflect those few oncoming bolts that were slipping past his father's saber. It was a wild dance, a fire in the heart and the spirit, a joining of souls beyond anything he had ever imagined.
And incredibly, it was Light. Yes, there was still Darkness in his father, but the meld itself was Light, as if Luke's Light attracted his father's Light.
They were battling their way across a large chamber which was the nexus of 8 corridors. Vader was leading them to the Control Room and facing very heavy opposition from armed troopers. Luke sensed the deaths in the Force as his father skillfully deflected bolts into gaps in armor, and then approached closely enough to the opposition to cut the men down. Luke grieved at the loss of life, but he knew there were no other viable options at this point. The tragic thing was that those dying likely didn't know whom they were fighting thanks to Isard's treachery. He was sure that if they had time to think, they would realize this was indeed Darth Vader, but in the heat of battle they attacked relentlessly. They were soldiers, trained for battle, and were operating on instinct
Luke and Vader and the others moved into a corridor and closed and locked the blast doors behind them. Luke instantly understood that his required task had changed. With all the opposition coming from in front of them, Vader no longer needed his help.
Luke's shifted his focus to assisting the 12 men following them. Most of the Imperial officers were proceeding at a good pace and were exuding disciplined calm, but 3 of the richly dressed individuals were obviously terrified. They were lagging fiercely and he found himself coaxing them along, especially the one man who had been injured back in the conference room from a stray blaster bolt. Luke had some sympathy for the man as he was clearly out of his element, but he was also slightly exasperated. The injury was very minor, and the Imperial officer who was injured was keeping up without encouragement. Luke could tell he was more seriously damaged.
Almost nervously, Luke sent a questing Force tendril toward Mara. She had crept off without being noticed 10 minutes before and while Luke knew there was no treachery involved, he was worried about her. She clearly was going after Isard herself and while Luke knew she was experienced, so was Isard.
But there was nothing to be done, and he could tell that thus far she was all right.
He pulled himself back to the present and discovered his father was standing near the end of the corridor, which was dead ending into another hallway. Luke tensed slightly. They would now have hostiles potentially coming from both directions.
Luke stepped up to him and gazed at his mask. He missed seeing his father's face, but understood why the mask was necessary at the moment.
Vader was standing still and Luke knew he was stretching out his senses. Clumsily, Luke did as well though he wasn't able to tell more than that there were indeed groups approaching from both directions, though one group seemed slightly closer. They would be on them in a few minutes.
"I will destroy the group coming from the right, Luke, and then we will proceed quickly toward the Control Room" Vader rumbled, "It will be difficult to protect the entire group if we are caught in crossfire."
To his son's surprise, one of the Imperial officers spoke up, "May I make a suggestion, Lord Vader?"
Vader looked down at the man, "Your name?"
"Captain Piett, my lord, of the Star Destroyer Reprisal. Sir, the men attacking us believe that you are an imposter. Perhaps I could station myself in the corridor and try to convince them that you are indeed Lord Vader? They will follow you without question, my lord, if they can be convinced of who you are."
There were murmurs of agreement from the other officers, though no one else volunteered to walk into a potential death zone.
"And you are certain, Captain Piett?" Vader asked curiously, "In spite of the Director's words?"
"No one privileged to accompany you these last minutes could doubt your identity, my lord," Piett responded promptly.
There was a hesitant pause. Luke could feel the turbulence in his father's mind. On one hand, killing the approaching squad would be faster and easier. On the other hand, Luke sensed … regret, at destroying these men who had been deceived by Isard.
"Very well, Piett, you may try," Vader said, "But if they begin firing, retreat immediately."
"I'll accompany the Captain," Luke said promptly, "And don't worry, I can deflect a few bolts and dive for cover if necessary. And I look harmless, you know I do."
Vader hesitated again, then clapped a large hand on Luke's shoulder, "Retreat if necessary, Luke. Don't be a hero. If you get hurt your mother will be most displeased."
Luke sensed the roiling surprise from the men at these words, even as he grinned and moved out into the corridor, followed by Captain Piett. Together they faced the sound of approaching boots.
/-/-/
Ysanne Isard's hidden office
Tower #4
Imperial Palace
Isard hurried into her hidden office and hurled herself into the chair in front of her holoterminal. She quickly entered her passcodes even as she fought to maintain her calm. What she really wanted to do was indulge in a major tantrum, but there wasn't time.
That crazy, insane, lunatic of a Sith Lord Darth Vader. Why couldn't the man just have died and been done with it? She had come so close to ruling in Palpatine's stead only to have that cyborg, that boring automaton, that melancholy drone show up out of nowhere. And how had he gotten into the Palace undetected? He was a hulk, not the sort of individual who could sneak through many corridors full of trained troopers.
She entered another code and glanced nervously at three terminals on the wall, then heaved a sigh of relief. The holocams in the corridors outside showed no sentient life. This office was located in a more decrepit section of the Palace where scores of morose and downtrodden workers were housed. The office was technically a storehouse for expired rations, and no one had ever tried to get through the heavily locked main door. Isard only used the 'secret' entrance into the office, at the end of a series of hidden corridors built into the Palace at Palpatine's orders. They were used primarily by the Hands and other trusted agents, but Sidious had gifted Isard with a map of the corridors as well.
And they were narrow and small. Darth Vader could not get in here; his bulk wouldn't allow it. She was safe. She was. Really. Entirely safe. She didn't need to worry right now about an enraged Vader showing up in the outer corridor and cutting his way through the doors, which were not reinforced with cortosis ore. No, she wasn't worried at all about that. After all, the Sith Lord had to be quite busy with the troops trying to kill him. Right?
Isard gritted her teeth and focused on the holoscreen in front of her. 2 billion credits were being rapidly dispersed into a variety of secret accounts. Once she had escaped Imperial Center, she would at least be rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
But wealth was not enough. She had been rich all her life and it had never been about money. She wanted power. She wanted to shape the Empire into her own image and with her own vision.
Isard leaned back against the chair and brooded. She was gifted in administration, brilliant, skilled in deception, trained by her father and the Emperor himself to rule through fear and manipulation. What was so special about Darth Vader? Besides the fact that he was an incredible adept in the mysterious and, frankly, annoying Force.
With an exasperated sigh, she leaned forward and carefully opened a secondary program. A few seconds of thinking, a series of keystrokes, and it was done. At the very least, Darth Vader would not rule from the Palace formerly held by their mutual Master, Sheev Palpatine. And if she were very lucky (not that she really believed in luck), Vader would be here when the time came and he really would be dead.
Her sulking was cut short by a sudden warning ping. She sat up so quickly her back twinged. Someone was approaching through the secret corridor entrance!
Isard grabbed her blaster and moved rapidly to the wall, aiming directly at where the intruder would emerge. It didn't matter who it was, whether enemy or potential ally. She needed to escape quickly, quietly, and alone. Whoever this was needed to die.
There was a nerve wracking pause and she heard quiet shuffling, followed by a strange skittering noise as a round object rolled into the room. She froze in horror. Bomb!
Even as she threw herself back in terror, the 'bomb' hissed and released a gas, odorless but very black and smoky. Within seconds, the small office was filled with smoke and she could no longer see the entrance to the hidden corridor!
There was a soft sound and she began firing blindly toward the entrance of the corridor, then toward her holoterminal as she could hear continued movement. There was a muted flash as a screen blew up, just as a body tackled her.
Isard twisted and kicked with her right leg even as she fought to bring her blaster to bear. Her opponent apparently whipped his head forward because Isard suddenly felt an intense pain in her nose and cheek as the individual's forehead slammed into her face.
She gasped in pain and fear as she successfully fired her blaster, just as her arm was pushed upwards. It discharged harmlessly against the ceiling.
The two bodies grappled frantically. Isard felt the tendrils of long hair against her hand and yanked on it viciously, pleased at the soft gasp of pain.
The other twisted again and dug a knee into her abdomen. Isard woofed as her breath flew from her lips, and the next instant she felt a strange prick against her neck.
Hypospray!
Isard felt the drug take hold of her and she sagged to the ground, powerless to fight.
The smoke cleared slightly and she stared up in fear and disbelief.
"Jade?" she whispered numbly.
"Hello, Isard," the red haired woman replied.
/-/-
Main Control Room
Imperial Palace
Imperial Center
"This is Lord Darth Vader. From this moment forward, I am taking control of the Imperial Palace, Imperial Center, and the Empire. The reports of my death were obviously false. Madame Director Ysanne Isard treacherously attempted to end my life today by ludicrously fabricating the lie that I am an imposter of myself. Anyone with awareness of her location is ordered to contact the main security center immediately. I repeat…this is Lord Darth Vader..."
Luke tuned out the repeating message and glanced around the room. Thankfully, Piett's brave stand had yielded immediate results, and they were able to take over the Control Room of the palace without further hostility. Now, Vader stood tall and regal with the 12 officers and councilors who had escaped the conference room in a solemn ring around him.
The control room was filled with numerous other officers and security men, all of whom were exuding violent emotions from behind military calm. Some were clearly delighted and relieved, others were terrified. Some were both.
One of the Admirals…Gotan, Luke remembered, was updating his father on a variety of tactical issues as they both looked at viewscreens flashing a cacophony of data.
Luke shook his head slightly in awe and humility. He had never seen his father command in this kind of setting. Vader was obviously not just a great warrior, but skilled at gathering pertinent information. He could hear, barely, the questions passing between his father and Gotan, with occasional interpolations by other officers.
His comlink beeped softly, and he lifted it up with a slight frown. He had already spoken to Obi-wan about the successful taking of the Palace, but perhaps he had another question?
No, it was Mara. He heaved a sigh of relief, even as he answered.
"Yeah?"
After listening for a minute, he hesitantly approached his father, who broke off his conversation immediately.
"Um," he began, and stopped. How should he address Vader? As 'my Lord' (which would be awkward) or as 'Father'? Did Vader want their relationship out in the open immediately?
"Yes, Son?" Vader responded, answering that question.
There was a crashing wave of shock from the men surrounding them, which both of them ignored.
"Mara just contacted me. She has Ysanne Isard in custody but she said there is some kind of countdown on a monitor set for a little more than 4 hours. That sounds ominous."
Vader considered this and nodded, "Inform Jade that we will join her shortly and to keep Isard carefully restrained. But before you do that…"
The Sith Lord looked around the room, gathering everyone's gaze.
"This is my son, Luke Skywalker," he said simply, "His safety is paramount. He is very important to me. You will obey him as you obey me. Is that clear?"
There were murmurs of agreement from the shocked faces.
"Come, Luke," Vader said.
/-/-/
Ysanne Isard's hidden office
Tower #4
Imperial Palace
Isard woke up. She straightened her lolling head and looked around in confusion.
She was sitting in the main chair in her office, which was now situated a meter from the main holoterminal. Her head ached and she was aware of dried liquid, no doubt blood, on her face from her tussle. A quick glance at the countdown monitor (which had survived her random blaster shots) showed she had been unconscious for only 10 minutes.
Mara Jade, of the flaming red hair, was perched on a stool and was rapidly making herself acquainted with the multitude of files available on the terminal. Isard had regrettably failed to close down the terminal before confronting her.
Isard muttered to herself in outrage, even as she tugged her wrists. Not surprisingly, the binders attaching her to the chair's armrests held firm. Jade was, she knew, trained in both assassination and capturing individuals alive. There was no way she was breaking free.
Which left her mouth and her brain to get out of this mess.
"What exactly are you doing?" she demanded harshly. It would not do to appear either afraid (though she was) or friendly (which she was not.)
Jade continued to peruse files for another few seconds, before starting a background program and turning toward her.
"I'm copying files over to a private server so that Lord Vader can access them, just in case you have some kind of kill program that will start destroying records."
Isard sucked in a sudden breath. Jade was working with Vader? If so…her heart pounded…the Dark Lord no doubt knew where she was. She considered herself a brave woman, but the thought of an interrogation at Darth Vader's hands was beyond terrifying.
"He betrayed Emperor Palpatine and destroyed the Death Star and its men," she said abruptly, "Did you know that?"
This was her only hope, but it was a reasonable one. She knew Jade was completely devoted to Palpatine; indeed, the Emperor had openly said he trusted Jade more than Isard. It had rankled deeply at the time, but perhaps it would save her now.
"Yes, I know," Jade responded coolly, sending that hope to an early death, "I admire him for it. At least he woke up to Palpatine's treachery and manipulation before that sneaky, conniving, transafloux died of moonglow poisoning. I wasn't that smart."
A part of Isard's brain wondered what a transafloux was, but she didn't have enough mental energy to dwell on it. Nothing good, from context. Besides, her brain was threatening to seize up from a mixture of outrage and fear. How dare this little brat have the temerity to insult and judge her dead master?
"Sheev Palpatine was the greatest man who ever lived, Mara Jade," she hissed angrily, "You were privileged to be deemed of some small use to him. Your convenient transfer of loyalty to Vader shows how unworthy you were. I always thought so, and my suspicions were obviously correct."
Jade scooted closer on her stool until the woman was all of half a meter from her.
"Yes," Jade replied," You made it quite clear that you despised me when I was younger."
Isard's dry throat grew even dryer. She had forgotten about those…incidents…when Palpatine had permitted her to unleash her ire on the young Hands, including Jade. She had enjoyed providing some of the more brutish agents to beat the young ones in hand to hand combat. She had overseen some of those beatings and Jade had always been a target of her particular aggression. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps the girl's beauty had rankled? Perhaps it was merely the awareness that Jade had abilities in the mysterious Force that she would never have?
And now she was helpless before the woman she had humiliated and harmed.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Isard," Jade ground out, "Though the temptation is there. It remains to be seen what Lord Vader will do with you, but that isn't my call."
"I can pay you a great deal to release me," Isard whispered softly. It was a forlorn hope, but she had to try.
Jade suddenly chuckled, "Oh, shut up, Isard."
She leaned over and pushed a button and the outer corridor door slid open.
The Dark Lord of the Sith stalked in, followed by attendant acolyte.
Isard shrank back in terror.
"Greetings, Director Isard," he rumbled.
Author Note: Thanks again for reviews and follows! It is most encouraging. A few people have honored me by asking me to write fanfics on request. I am flattered, but reality is that my knowledge of the SW universe is restricted largely to the movies and some of the Legends books (post ROTJ). I haven't seen Rogue One or watched the various animated SW series. So I'm just going to write fanfics revolving around Vader and Luke.