The Truth, fitS with Chapter 6. Luke's blood test revealed his identity to the Imperials, now it's up to Lieutenant Jovay to warn Darth Vader.
—-
"This is most irregular," said the man who had identified himself on the com as Captain Piett.
"It's urgent and personal," replied Lieutenant Karas Jovay. "And an emergency. I'm the recruiter in Mos Eisley on Tatooine. Please tell him."
"Very well." The tone said, it's your career—or your life—on the line.
Jovay tapped his fingers on the desktop, blowing off bits of sand while he waited. He hoped it wouldn't take too—
"Lieutenant." The echoing voice made familiar on holonews channels, and occasionally in person, startled him.
"Lord Vader, forgive my—"
"Forgo the pleasantries. Why have you contacted me?"
He drew a breath. "A boy—youth—came in today, wanting to enlist. First he gave a fake name—"
Vader sighed deeply. "Get to the point."
He took a long inhalation, hoping to get out all the pertinent information before Vader grew more impatient. "He said Luke Lars then he asked me to check Luke Vader because his guardians compared him to you then I told him to get a blood test and he did and it just came back over the secure channel that his father was a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker." He gasped for air.
The silence was electric.
"The mother listed as Padme Naberrie," he added belatedly. "I thought you...should know."
He was willing to bet there weren't many people in the galaxy who knew Lord Vader's previous identity, and he'd never known if that made him safe from or a menace to the Dark Lord.
"How old?"
"Fifteen, milord." He fidgeted with a clip from his desk drawer, uncertain what to do in the extended silence that lasted for at least a full minute. Should he speak or should—
"Who is the garrison commander?"
"Uh...Trentin Weaway, he's—"
"You are acting commander now," Vader ordered. "Weapons on stun—not to be used unless unavoidable. I don't want him injured."
"Very well, milor—"
"In fact," Vader said slowly, "I don't want him captured. I wish to see what he does. Who are his guardians?"
"A couple named Owen and Beru Lars, moisture farm—"
"I know who they are. They are to be removed in any way necessary. I do not want the boy to have a retreat."
"Removed, milord?" Finally he was able to complete an entire sentence, albeit a very short one.
"Eliminated," Vader clarified. "Report to me any contacts with the boy. I will deal with him myself at some point."
"Yes, milord."
"You did well to tell me." Another pause punctuated by rhythmic breathing. "What...is the boy's name?"
"Luke, milord."
Another pause, then the com was disconnected.
All in all, Jovay thought that went well. No eruption of temper, no long distance choking. He stood and drew his blaster, setting it to stun. And no unnecessary chances to be taken.
He headed out the door to take over command. Weaway would be furious. But who knows, maybe a promotion would be coming down the line. He shouldn't have been sent to the career graveyard of an Outer Rim planet...not for one tiny barely discernible lapse in judgement that hadn't hurt anyone but himself.
That was the last mistake he'd ever make.
Right….
