Chapter 60: Empire Day
Warnings for graphic violence, PTSD, sexual assault inference… Not Luke's best day.
OooOoo
Three hours. Coruscant time was three hours ahead of the time their base used, so his father was already busy, although he may have been working all night. It was weird that he wasn't sure if Vader ever slept. A son should know that sort of thing.
He had finished both his classes, been thumped a few times in hand-to-hand, but more than held his own in wood-stick-manship. Even without using the Force, he was accomplishing so much. He wished he could tell his father, but this was No-Force Day, and he needed to be cautious. Guilt skittered along the edges of his conscience. He should be more supportive of Vader, more attentive, more concerned about what his father was going through. He knew he should feel some sort of guilt over the murder of the spy but he couldn't make himself consider it. As for Tadeo… well, his fate wasn't up to Luke, he'd said what he could. There was nothing more he could do.
Breakfast/dinner choices were displayed in the mess hall. There wasn't much difference between the two meals. Luke selected the nameless meat, fruit and milk. He'd never asked where the milk came from. It was obviously fresh, but thin and watery and so far he hadn't seen any animals that looked capable of producing milk. It was probably plant-based, but he could pretend it was real milk like his dad wanted him to drink. Plus if the milk was plant-based, he didn't have to eat the repulsive, soggy vegetables, right?
"Hi." He put his tray down between Zev and Janson and climbed over the bench. "Shove over."
"Ugh, take a shower." Janson wrinkled his nose.
"I will, after this." It looked like the entire Red Squad was here, even ones from the other shift lingering. He hoped Command was heeding his suggestion about security at shift change, especially today of all days. "Why is everybody here?"
"Something's up," Zev muttered, nodding his head to where Garven Dreis and Commander Narra were standing and talking. "Happy Empire Day, Oz."
He grinned, feeling a little shy and wishing he could tell everyone that it was his birthday. But he didn't want them knowing that he and—
Oh, krit! What if his dad knew that today was Leia's birthday, too? What if dad made the same connection he had? What if—
"I need your attention, gentlemen," Narra said at the head of the table.
Luke's stomach churned a little. This had never happened before. And it was Empire Day. Something truly awful must be happening and he wondered—
No Force No Force No Force
"Commander Dreis and I are swapping jobs. I will be your squad leader, and Commander Dreis will be taking on Command status. Or, as at least one of you has said: he will be flying the desk."
Luke flushed and wondered if he was the cause of their change. Sure, everything is always about you. Others at the table mumbled congratulations - or "sorry" depending on their points of view.
"Do we call you 'Boss' now?" Janson questioned.
"You may call me 'Sir' or 'Commander' or 'Commander Narra'."
"What's your first name?" Luke wondered.
"You are not calling me by my first name," Narra scolded.
"I won't! I just asked!"
Boss said something to Narra under his breath and they both smiled slightly. "It's Arhul and I never want to hear that name from anyone's lips."
"So can we still call Boss 'Boss'?"
"Can we call you 'Narr'?"
"Can we call Boss 'Garven'?"
Narra looked at Boss. "Changed my mind, I want my job back." That drew a few chuckles and he let them laugh before speaking again. "I know changes are difficult but I expect minimal difficulties during the transition period. I'll be moving into Red barracks today, curfew is still 2200 for day shift, 1000 for night, the one-drink rule still applies— except for you younger ones—"
"We get more," Luke said across the table to Wedge.
"—and I will tolerate far fewer interruptions when I am speaking than Boss allowed." He looked pointedly at Luke. "Duty roster and schedules remain the same, but expect additional drills at Commander Dreis's discretion. Any questions, bring them to me directly. I do not want any of you to over-utilize Command Staff resources." Another look at Luke, who lowered his gaze. "Commander Dreis?"
"It's been my honor to be your squad commander these past few years," Boss said. "I will still be available if you have follow up questions and I will pilot as needed. Clear?"
There were a few mumbled agreements.
"That's it then," Narra said. "Finish up and get to work or get to bed. Oz, 0900 in CC."
"Yes, sir." He liked Narra, but it sounded like his reign would be different. Might be a good change because Boss had been getting on his nerves recently. Or maybe it was the other way around.
He wished again that he could talk to his father about the changes, but it would be No-Force Day for a long time. He also wished he had a dad he could talk to about anything other than overthrowing Palpatine and how hard Luke should work.
The two leaders left the mess hall, leaving silence behind them. "I wonder what prompted that?" Hobbie sighed and crumpled his napkin. "Came kinda out of nowhere."
"I dunno, but let's go." Zev stood. "Prince Gorgeous, go clean up and change before your appearance at CC. You've got only an hour to go through your wardrobe and decide what to wear."
Luke sighed with disgust. "C'mon, I don't need that long!" Although he had to shower and dry his hair, so— "I'm going, I'm going! See you guys later."
"Enjoy the Emperor's speech!" Janson called. "Don't barf your breakfast!"
OooOoo
He decided on his Sithly uniform, the one his dad persisted in calling 'Jedi-like', black leather tabards and boots with dark brown shirt and pants. Walking through the rec area, he had to endure some good-natured catcalls from the night shift guys and pretended to be annoyed, but he was secretly pleased. This was so much better than his Tatooine rags. His appearance was… appropriate to his station, not that any of them knew his station other than Command.
The chairs were all occupied when he arrived. Even Princess Leia was there in the front row with the other leaders.
"Happy birthday," he called cheerfully, and she gave him a cool nod before turning away.
Luke rolled his eyes. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the screen, wriggling in next to Boss's knees. "Good view." He tilted his head sideways and smiled at Dreis, who said nothing.
Those were Willard's knees on his other side, which he hadn't realized when he chose his spot, but he wasn't about to move now. Never show weakness, his dad taught him.
The screen was showing a wide aerial view of Coruscant that looked like a sea of military grey and white surrounding the buildings, with civilians clustered in clumps, then began a zoom-in where he could pick out individual stormtroopers. The sight nauseated him a little and he hoped he wouldn't do what Janson suggested. There was something about the inhumanity of faceless troopers that made him uneasy in a way his father's mask did not.
Then— there was the Imperial Palace and its Grand Balcony. Behind the ornate balustrade, the Emperor was backed by Darth Vader and other courtiers that Luke recognized from his studies. Moff Tarkin was there with high-ranking military officers he half-recognized from news footage.
"The Imperial Palace," the princess said scornfully.
"The Jedi Temple," Luke corrected mildly, though he knew there had been changes and additions to the building since the Jedi had used it.
"Not in our lifetimes," she snipped back at him.
"Whatever," he muttered. Boss's knee nudged his shoulder and he subsided, leaning forward to get a closer look at his father. The camera closed in on Palpatine and he cursed silently. Who wanted to see a hooded monster when they could look at his magnificent father?
"Loyal citizens of my glorious Galactic Empire! Today we celebrate seventeen years of peace and prosperity—"
He wasn't the only one who groaned. He tuned out the empty words and studied the reactions of the participants as the cameras changed angles. There were a lot of blank faces offering no reactions. Polite applause when the Emperor waited for it. His father was completely motionless, leading Luke to wonder if he was even inside the suit or if he'd made it stand there without him. If only he could—
No Force No Force No Force
That was more difficult than he'd thought it would be, and the absence of the Force made him feel hollow. His mind drifted into numbed boredom as Palpatine droned on. And on. And on. Until he finally said something important.
"—my loyal Right Hand, Lord Vader—" Here Palpatine turned his head to focus on the Sith.
Vader didn't move, but Luke straightened.
"—brilliant in his tactics—"
Nothing.
Luke inhaled sharply. "Did you see that?" he demanded. Inside, without the Force, he breathed, respond...oh please respond.
"See what?" General Dodonna asked sharply.
He didn't remove his gaze from the screen as the Emperor continued describing his father's latest successes in planetary suppressions. "He's not acknowledging Palpatine."
"Who? Vader?"
"Yeah." Luke scooted forward to get closer to the screen. "Look! He's giving Palpatine nothing, just… nothing." Suddenly he was very afraid for his father. Was he hurt? Was he even there? "Oh, please answer," he whispered. Please please please be okay. Maybe Palpatine couldn't sense their bond, maybe he could reach out and—
No Force No Force No Force
He sat back and hugged his knees to his chest. Palpatine finished his congratulations to his Dark Lord— which had sounded more like congratulations to himself— and paused to allow acknowledgement. A wave of clacking sounds followed, and Luke realized all the stormtroopers had whacked the butts of their rifles on the pavement. The crowds of civilians roared in excitement at the throbbing response.
Vader inclined his head… toward the troopers.
Oh, krit. Luke dug his fingers into his legs.
"What the hell was that?" someone in the room asked.
That was the sound of an overthrow beginning, Luke thought silently, but— wisely for a change— said nothing.
"That was something very interesting," Dodonna responded.
"Is that 501st?" Leia asked.
"Only those on the right." Luke reached to the screen and pointed them out.
"How do you know?"
"Left arms. See that little blue insignia?"
"So the rest of the stormtroopers…."
"Plain old troopers." The support was wonderful, but why did they express it in front of the Emperor? His dad would pay for this moment of perceived insurrection. Luke shook his head. "This is so bad," he said under his breath. "So bad."
"It looks good to me." Willard heard his whisper. "Division in the Empire can only work to our advantage."
Yeah, if you can figure out how to use it. He didn't have much faith in Alliance strategists. They seemed only to be able to grab random opportunities and not plan ahead.
And it sure as hell wasn't good for his dad.
No Force No Force No Force
But please be careful.
OooOoo
After Palpatine wound up his speech to thundering applause, there came the flyover his father had arranged. Hundreds of ships, huge star destroyers hovering high in the sky while the smaller vessels zoomed overhead in an aerial parade. It was awesome, completely intimidating, and made the Alliance's fleet seem tiny and their rebellion hopeless. Luke didn't say that aloud, but the silence in the room was deafening with that truth. And he couldn't help it— he was so proud of his father.
Commander Dreis clicked off the display. "Show's over. Back to work," he said with weariness in his voice.
Luke rose from the floor and followed the crowd until Dodonna stopped him with a hand on his arm. One more thing. There's always one more thing. Resigned, he stood to the side and waited until only five were left.
"Commander Narra, you're dismissed," Willard said.
Narra stood very straight. "I'll stay with my squad member."
"Thank you," Luke replied softly, barely stifling a sigh of relief.
Willard, Dodonna and Boss exchanged looks, silently voting, he assumed. "Very well." General Willard closed his throat. "Before his speech, Palpatine showed the following battle footage from Shu-Torun. We chose not to share it with everyone."
No one sat. Luke folded his arms, knowing this would be bad. He braced himself and wondered how many ships the Alliance had lost.
Yes, there were ships, TIES looping easily around old T-47s, blasting them from the air, sending smashing fireballs into the ground— but then the footage changed, focusing on people running frantically, ducking for cover under trees— hopelessly because the trees were torn apart by blasts. Helmet cams from stormtroopers showed Alliance and Empire uniforms both familiar and strange, ragged homespun clothes, fancy jackets, brightly-colored dresses, women, children, old people choking through clouds of black smoke— explosions, laser fire, dirt and blood, arms and legs flying off and lying alone on the ground, whoever they had belonged to disappeared—
—I need corpses to practice exploding them—
—a man, going rigid as he was shot, falling, stumbling up again on his hands and knees, struck by a nearby detonation, slumping, muscles exposed, skin burning and sizzling and shredding, still struggling to rise, reaching for a tiny body with its head missing—
He covered his mouth to keep from crying out. This— this was not what it was supposed to be like. It was spotting ships on sensors, blowing them into sparkling bits, dropping a torpedo down a shaft and eliminating an entire weapon-world and everyone in it—
—and into the chaos of gore and blaster fire strode an imposing dark figure, commanding, magnificent, red saber twirling in front of him —one-handed!— batting away laser fire so fast Luke couldn't separate one movement from the next— so amazing!— slicing in half a woman clutching a child, getting both of them in one blow—
—you don't understand you don't know what made him what he is but he loves me—
He turned to flee, but Dodonna grabbed him from behind, forcing him to face the screen, holding his arms tightly. "He needs to see this," he growled at Narra's quiet protest. "This is the animal you're protecting," he hissed in Luke's ear.
I can save him—
He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. That was his father— his father— dismembering people like slicing meat to be devoured for dinner… but his father didn't even eat, he didn't even.... Distantly he could admire the lightsaber techniques against the laser fire, but….
But
—you can't save an animal like that—
But I can't—
Vader slicing a man down his centerline and bowels spilling out, fingers clutching at his abdomen, trying in vain—
But I can't give up on him—
Do not react no matter what happens
Vader lopped off the man's head. The body stood for two seconds longer before toppling and—
—bits of brain matter and skin and blood on the floor on the barracks—
—good work son—
No Force No Force No Force
Black fist clenched and two children were raised into the air and thrown, mouths open in silent shrieks—
—and it didn't touch him—
Luke yanked free and ran. Just… ran.
OooOoo
At the edge of the jungle, he bent over a bushy plant and vomited his breakfast. Janson was right, Janson warned him, they all warned him—
—you can't save him—
—what did redemption mean anyway—
—your favorite asset—
—together we can—
"Stupid!" he shouted, half-shouting at himself. "You are so kriffin' stupid!"
—together we can defeat Palpatine—
"Why not just say, 'I need another tool'," Luke hissed. "Just say, 'My son, my wonderfully powerful son, you will put me on the throne and I will bring order'."
Order
Destruction
Annihilation
—we will rule the galaxy as father and son—
Join me my son
Fight for me
So proud….
Fine lightsaber you've got there
Dark Lord Luke Skywalker, walking through a battle, casually slitting throats, amputating arms and legs…. He could almost see it because it was there, right there, hovering in his head waiting for him to acknowledge it. And surrendering to it would be so easy.
—father and son together—
No Force No Force No Force
There was no doubt that Palpatine meant that video for him. To break him— to break them, to separate them— and Vader had flaunted his military support in the Emperor's face. What the kriff was going on, what was he supposed to do, how should he feel? Did his father really think Luke could ignore what he'd seen…. Yes, of course. Why not? He knew his dad had murdered millions… billions?... and he'd accepted that, but he'd never seen it, and the reality was nothing like what was in his worst nightmares.
And his father assumed he would go along with his horrific plans… because he always had. First with small demurrals, then without question.
Maybe Command was right. His father was an animal, a hideous, murderous animal, and his son was following in his footsteps.
—and yet—
He ran. Deeper in the jungle, he leaned against a tree. There was a pond… the pond where he exploded the tentacled life form without consideration… like his father did in battles. Or on the bridge of the Devastator. Or who the hell knew, maybe on the streets of Coruscant. He didn't deserve to live, to rule, to have someone who loved him—
—and yet—
Had it all been his imagination? On the Devastator, his father teaching him, teasing him, choking him, lopping off his hand— sure, it was an accident—
—but if something happens when you're angry, is it really an accident?
What a kriffin' mess his entire life had been— and Luke wasn't sure which one of them he meant. Probably both. But definitely he would have been better off staying on Tatooine. On the farm, on the streets, drunk and high, a thief, a rent boy... any of it would have been better than this.
—you're a locus—
No shit. A locus, a nexus, a freak, son of a freak. Son of a traitor father and a traitor mother. Evil, just like they predicted. Just like he predicted. There was no other path open for him, never had been.
Except on the streets of Mos Eisley.
... coughing on a whirlwind of sand and dust standing on a crate peeking in windows watching what the krif people did to each other….
A familiar scent wafted across his nose and he looked around. There was a man across the pond, sitting on a log, watching him. Vaguely familiar from the base, but Luke didn't know his name. The man jerked his head to one side in invitation.
Luke walked across and stood in front of him. The man held up his spice stick. "Si' down."
Oh, hells, no, not in his good clothes!
...what're you lookin' at kid get down here...
"Wanna hit?"
… you buy glitt today I give you dat x-wing tat you bin wantin'
He stared at the plume of smoke.. He'd promised his dad… that made him laugh a little. Did promises to Darth Vader mean anything? What the krif did it matter what he'd promised? Vader only wanted him to stay straight so he could use him.
—never waste an asset—
Anger curled in his chest. Why deny himself? He wanted to take a long draw and feel the pleasure course through his body, dulling his mind, blunting the images of his father—
—but one thing I am not is a quitter.
Sort of a double-edged meaning when it came to spice.
"No, thanks." Why was he pretending to be polite?
...nothing sir doing nothing...
"Cute." The man smiled mockingly, and anger coiled in Luke's chest. He needed to release all these emotions churning inside him, let his rage and disillusionment flare and explode. Pain, terror, memories that needed to stay buried. He wanted to use the Force—
No.
"Is that all you've got?" he asked scornfully. "That's not worth my time."
"That's all he's got," someone behind him said. "But we've got better stuff."
Two more. Not pilots, not mechs… well, maybe, he couldn't think clearly through all the emotions that vied for his attention. "Bring it on."
"You got any creds?" The taller one stood too close at his shoulder, the other moved behind him.
...three... what can I do against three stormtroopers...
Luke shrugged. "Nah. I got cut off. Bad behavior."
"Hah. Yeah." The man dropped a couple packets on the ground. Not Violet, cheaper stuff. "It'll do the job," he said when he saw Luke's frown and added admiringly, "Nice threads."
"Thanks."
"Wanna trade?"
Luke evaluated the man's clothes. Bloodstripe trousers— probably stolen— and a baggy, sweat-stained tan shirt. As if. "Krit, no."
Of course he could simply take the spice and walk away. Really, what did it matter any longer. He could live his life any way he wanted. Vader had no say, that was over, he wanted nothing more to do with his Dark Father.
All over. All of it.
Over.
—and yet—
Why did that idea hurt so much?
"You're a pretty little thing," the third man said from behind, whispering in his ear.
...he's a pretty little thing…
"I know."
... c'mon, you got sand up your grill, that's not a boy, it's a girl….
"Maybe we can work out another kind of payment, blondie."
The man at his back ran his hands down the length of Luke's arms and nuzzled his cheek.
Oh, yeah. Shove your tongue in my mouth and I'll bite it off. What the krif, it was his birthday, he deserved a present.
—it was the worst day of my life—
Not yet.
Not for him anyway. But for them—
I'll break your kriffin' necks. Rip out your hearts—
—I need some corpses to—
"Hey, look!" Unexpectedly the smoker grinned and gestured. "The party just got bigger."
Two figures emerged from the forest. "Let me go! What's going on here?" Princess Leia demanded, struggling against the arm that wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground.
Mentally Luke groaned.
...four...
"What do you think's going on?" The fourth man pushed her forward. "I found us a real girl. Double the fun."
...nah, this one is enough for all of us…
Luke squatted suddenly and rammed his fist upward as hard as he could against his captor's chin, then he flipped the stunned man over his back, sending him flying. He landed with a bone-shattering crunch and a scream, and Luke sent a feral smile in his direction. I hope your kriffin' back is broken. He moved toward Leia, but she had already twisted her weight to one side and kneed her captor in the groin.
Luke snarled and kicked the bent man in his ribs, knocking him over, and when the man rolled onto his back with a moan, he stomped on his stomach once, twice— He really wanted to kill—
...krit did you kill him… he's bleeding...
Shut up. He ignored the memory that had been long dead and buried. Like this monster should be. Who needed the Force when he was combat trained? Panting, he grabbed a narrow tree limb from the ground, snapped it in half and whirled it, readying himself for another attack—
And was completely disappointed when two remaining men ran, leaving the semi-conscious duo on the ground where they'd been thrown.
...who cares… just dump him...
Would he never get what he wanted? "Damnit! I want to fight! Come back here!"
"Stop it!" Princess Leia looked at him with disgust. She pressed her com. "Security, I have a situation."
Oh, great.
OooOoo
