"Hello." Luke Skywalker says the greeting perfunctorily. He doesn't look happy to see her. In fact, he looks terribly nervous even though the Rebel cruiser she's just docked on is his home turf. She's the one who has voluntarily arrived to the enemy to talk treason.
Astral is taking an awful risk today. But gamely, she flashes a smile. "Hello."
Luke looks her over slowly, and makes no further comment. It tells Astral that she has executed on Snoke's advice to make sure the Rebels know they are hosting Lady Vader. Astral had worried that the sweeping black hooded cape and matching dress were too much. That the look was too dramatic, too formal, too ostentatiously expensive. But she had dutifully followed orders. Give them what they expect to see, old Darth Plagueis had instructed, show them an Empress. They'll think twice about imprisoning you if you look like you belong to Lord Vader. At every glance, you should remind them of who they're dealing with and whose terrible revenge they will risk by harming you.
It's somber and intimidating attire that is a far cry from the casual khaki culottes and tunic Astral wore to sweat in the sand on Tatooine. Gone too is the colorful scarf shielding her ponytail from the harsh twin suns. Astral is as coiffed and made up as she's ever been. Not that Luke can see from beneath her voluminous satin lined hood. As it is, Astral can't see a thing out of her peripheral vision.
Luke spits out news. "We're not meeting with Senator Mothma."
Astral feared as much, but she still presses, "Why not?"
"She's busy. We're seeing another Senator instead."
Some gatekeeper probably, Astral surmises. This might be a first meeting in which she has to impress a trusted aide before she can gain access to the Rebel high command. Either that, or this is some form of courtesy meeting to tell her no and send her on her way.
Luke now points to the box she holds. "What's that?"
"A peace offering." Astral declines to say more.
He looks intrigued but doesn't inquire further. "This way," Luke conducts her out of the busy hangar bay where many curious eyes watch them.
"Are you armed?" he asks under his breath as they walk shoulder to shoulder.
"No."
"Comlink or datapad?"
"No."
"Tracker?"
"No."
"So you are completely untraceable?"
"Yes. Go ahead and scan me, I'm clean. I am at your mercy."
Luke mutters back, "This is brave of you."
"I am trusting you." Astral lets that sink in for a few paces before she glances over to add, "He is trusting you."
"No one will harm you."
"Good," she responds with more bravado than she feels, "because I have powerful friends."
"I'm not afraid of him," Luke grumbles a little too quickly and far too defensively. It betrays the lie.
Astral plays along to save the kid's ego. "Then be afraid of your grandfather. Everyone is terrified of your grandfather, your father included."
"I'll remember that. Why are you doing this?"
Why is Astral is continuing her self-appointed role as go-between for the Skywalker men? It's mostly because Darth Vader has gotten himself cornered by his own anxious masculinity and his horrible mistake at Bespin. It's all rooted in the misgivings her husband has about his role as the Chosen One, she suspects. The always decisive and ruthlessly efficient man the galaxy knows as Darth Vader hides a lot of deep seeded personal insecurities. And, unfortunately, the emergence of Luke Skywalker has brought several of them to the forefront. But that's not an answer Astral can give. So she settles on, "Because I love your father and I want to see our family unite for the good of the galaxy."
Luke looks around furtively and hisses, "No one here knows he's my father."
"I understand." Astral seizes on another chance to build trust. She assures Luke, "I will keep our secret."
"If people here knew, it would make things very hard for me."
"I understand."
"Don't expect too much from today. Everyone hates him. No one trusts him."
Astral stops walking now. It forces Luke to halt as well. "Tell me you don't hate him," she whispers.
Luke says nothing.
"You shouldn't hate your father. Disagree with him . . . condemn what he has done . . . be angry with him . . . but don't hate him. Please . . . don't be like all the rest . . . "
Again, Luke says nothing.
It makes Astral rally to her husband's defense. "You know, you might ask him why he made the choices he has made. Or maybe why he committed the acts you disapprove of. The Emperor might use him publicly as a blunt instrument, but he's not a brute. Your father has reasons for his actions. Put aside your anger for a moment to listen to his truth. At least learn his perspective."
Luke looks away. "I listened enough on Naboo."
"No, you didn't," Astral chides gently. "Luke, you lit a sword the moment you saw him."
The kid has the good grace to flush a little at his rookie mistake.
"Just talk to him—"
"No!" The word comes out almost reflexively. Luke is afraid, she sees. Afraid of his father and afraid of the truth. This young man is neither arrogant nor prideful, but it's clear he doesn't want to see his revered Jedi mentors tarnished further in his eyes. He'd rather cling to their teachings, however incomplete they are. And perhaps that's understandable given all his disillusionment so far. But there's too much at stake to let this chance pass.
"Just talk to him—"
"This balancing the Force business is all wrong," her stepson now counters. "It's just a justification for evil. There is Light and there is Darkness. You must choose your side."
"Why?"
"Why?" Luke blinks and frowns. "Because there is right and there is wrong." He says this like it's self-evident. Like right and wrong are obvious in every situation.
But not to Astral. If fact, the more life experience she gets, the more murky right and wrong seem. "Who decides that?" she challenges. "Who decides what is right and what is wrong?"
"No one. Everyone knows it . . . whether they will acknowledge it or not." Luke shoots her a look of reproach as he hurries her along. "Come on. They're waiting."
They resume walking now. "So . . . the Rebels are good and the Empire is bad?" Astral persists.
"Around here, we prefer to be called the Alliance."
"Alright, the Alliance then. Are you the good guys?" It's a serious question.
"Yes."
"And so all those people on the Death Star you blew up—"
"They were the bad guys," Luke confirms.
"And yet, you might have been one of them. He's got all your school records. I saw that you had to withdraw your application for the local academy twice—"
"That's different. I didn't know any better back then."
"And all those people on the Death Star—you're sure they all knew better when they joined up?"
Luke won't be baited. "Look, I know where you are headed with this. Moral relativism can't excuse Darth Vader. He is wrong and he has done terrible things. And you're here to talk about killing more people on another Death Star, remember?" The young Jedi is flustered, Astral sees. He's resentful of her cross examination and unwilling to equate his own actions with his father's.
They soon reach a shut door. "We're here," Luke announces as he enters a security code. The door slides open to reveal a small meeting room with a table and chairs. Standing off to the side is a tall, slightly grizzled looking blonde man with a buzzcut who looks Astral over with undisguised suspicion.
"This is General Draven," Luke makes the introduction.
"General," Astral nods politely. "Thank you for meeting with me." Copying Snoke's trademark gesture, she reaches up to toss back her hood, hoping she conveys as much gravitas as her Muun father-in-law. But really, she wore the hood in hopes it would obscure her features from any security cameras with facial recognition technology.
Now that she is revealed, the Rebel general eyes her some more. He's about her age, maybe a few years older. Definitely a contemporary of Lord Vader. That means this man, like her husband, came of age at the end of the Republic. It was a time when the Clone Wars raged and the galaxy's long revered institutions failed. There were heroes on both sides, Darth Vader once remarked of those bloody years of civil war. Astral wonders now if General Draven was one of those heroes. And if he was, was he a Separatist or a Republic soldier?
The General crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at her. "When Skywalker told us he had been meeting with an informant, we didn't expect you."
"Things are not always what they seem," Astral responds calmly. She's come prepared for a chilly reception and she's anticipating skepticism.
"You seem fairly straightforward, at least on the surface." The General now reads from a datapad that evidently contains a Rebel dossier on her. "Astral Sidhu . . . formerly with the Alderaan Museum of Modern Art . . . now you peddle sculptures to fancy Core world moguls?"
"That's right."
"You've got an expensive apartment on Coruscant, a brand-new speeder, and a hefty bank account. Nights at the opera . . . Saturday afternoons spent shopping . . . lots of work-related cocktail parties . . . Looks like it's nice to be Missus Vader. You live well."
"Yes."
Draven tosses aside the datapad onto the empty table. His lip is curled with undisguised distaste. "Does it bother you that those credits are blood money?"
That's her opening. Astral moves to place the case she's holding onto the table. She deploys the lock with her thumbprint. The box opens to reveal neatly stacked credit cards. Astral turns back to Luke and Draven. She gestures to the cash. "Consider this a down payment to make amends."
It's a small fortune. This is the covert funding for the Rebellion that Astral first proposed to Lord Vader's disdain and dismay. But he came around to the idea once this meeting came together. He and Snoke agreed that they need a grand gesture for their first overture to the Rebel leaders.
"The cards are all generic and untraceable," Astral assures the two men. "Each is funded with small amounts so they will deposit and spend easily without attracting undue attention."
"How much?" the General asks.
She names the sum and watches as he pretends not to be impressed. Farm boy Luke Skywalker doesn't succeed as well with his poker face. He's got the 'gee whiz' look of a kid for whom every credit had to be earned with hard work.
But if anything, her gift earns her more suspicion, not less. "We didn't know you existed. I guess that was the point. Why don't you live at the fancy Palace?" Draven wants to know as his eyes narrow.
Astral's answer is candid. "I like my independence. Besides, he's never there. I live quietly under the radar, as you apparently now know."
"How do we know you're even her? You could be an imposter. This could be a ruse. You could be anyone sent here to gather intelligence and report back."
"That's true," Astral concedes. "You'll have to trust me. Like I'm trusting you. There is risk on both sides," she reminds him.
Luke speaks up now to vouch for her. "She's who she says she is."
The door slides open and a fast-moving young woman darts in to interrupt. It's Alderaan's young Senator, the Princess Leia Organa. "Sorry I'm late. What's this?" she blinks at all the cash lying on the table.
"A little gift from Darth Vader," the General explains as he shoots the Princess a very cynical look. He gestures to Astral. "Meet Missus Darth Vader. She's come to pay the Alliance a social call."
Leia Organa looks up at Astral and then slowly works her way down. Astral instinctively knows that her Coruscant couture finery is lost of the two men present, but not on Alderaan's Crown Princess. Leia Organa probably knows exactly which designer made this dress and how much it costs. The Princess makes no attempt to hide her slow, silent perusal as she sizes Astral up.
For her part, Astral is a little starstruck. So this is Lord Vader's anonymous daughter-her stepdaughter- standing mere feet away in the flesh. Has her good friend Luke Skywalker dared to confide his true parentage to the Princess? And if so, does Leia Organa know her own origins? If not, could she suspect? Could Luke suspect? Or, are brother and sister in the dark about one another? Brought together by a common cause and—as her Sith Lord husband would say—by the Force. Because according to Darth Vader, there are no coincidences and there is no such thing as luck. There is only the will of the Force.
"This is Astral Sidhu," the General supplies her actual name now.
Astral's own first impression is that Leia Organa is even prettier in person than she is on the holonet. Feminine and petite even wearing a utilitarian Rebel jumpsuit that matches her brother's. She has big brown eyes and delicate features that right now are shaped in a frown. Her welcome could not be more cool, and that's understandable. After all, Astral is here on behalf of the man who did a painful mind interrogation on the Princess during her Death Star detention. Then, Darth Vader froze her boyfriend in carbonite and gave him to a bounty hunter. The only reason Leia Organa escaped a second round of torture on Bespin is because Lord Vader had wrongly assumed that she was Luke's love interest. He misjudged the closeness between brother and sister shown in Snoke's surveillance photographs for romance. So, naturally, this Princess is inclined to hate her as an extension of her husband.
That's why, as intriguing as this chance meeting might be, Astral would much rather be seeing Senator Mothma than Senator Organa. Things are far too personal with this young woman. Astral worries that means Leia Organa will not be objective in her analysis of the proposed plan.
"Ms. Sidhu," Leia Organa's voice is clipped and her nod curt.
"Princess," Astral inclines her head in return. "Well, I guess you're my queen now." Astral rethinks her choice of words and tries again with more appropriate reverence, "Your pardon, your royal highness."
Leia Organa looks confused by this sudden formality from Astral of all people.
"She claims to be from Alderaan," General Draven explains.
"I am from Alderaan," Astral speaks up. "I was born and raised there and lived there until . . . " Her voice trails off.
"Until your husband blew it up?" the Princess supplies the punchline. Her tone is unforgiving. Things are not off to a good start.
The General piles on. "How convenient that you weren't there that day—"
"I was on my way back home. I was escorting paintings for a new exhibit at the museum. I never made it home . . . Had I been home, I would be dead now too." Astral can't quite keep the sadness and resentment from her tone. Over a year later, the destruction of her homeworld is still so upsetting. "I would be dead now like most everyone I ever knew . . . "
"Where did you go?" the General wants to know. "The Coruscant apartment you live in was only purchased a year ago."
"I went to Coruscant briefly and then to the castle."
"What castle?"
"Castle Vader."
"Sounds nice. Where is that?" Leia Organa probes.
"The Rim."
"What system?" the Princess presses.
Astral is not about to compromise her husband's private refuge. She answers, "A Rim system," and the Rebels let the point drop.
She is beginning the understand the meeting dynamics now. The General and the Princess are the bad cops in this interview. Luke's not exactly the good cop, Astral judges. He's more like the silent cop so far. And there is no pretense of a cordial welcome. No one has even invited Astral to sit down. Already, this is starting to feel a lot like that uncomfortable standoff in the temple on Naboo.
"Why are you here?" General Draven asks. He gestures to the fortune in credits laying on the table. "What's all this really about?"
The preliminaries are over, apparently. It's time to get down to business. Well, here goes. Astral makes her pitch. "I'm here because Lord Vader and I want to rid the galaxy of our tyrant Emperor." Astral meets Luke's eyes as she quietly proclaims. "Lord Vader is as much controlled as the rest of the galaxy is. The Emperor is the real bad guy."
Her stepson curls his lip and speaks up. "He is complicit."
Astral replies quickly. "Not the way you think."
"So Darth Vader wants to mount a coup?" the Princess cocks her head to one side and puts a hand on one hip. Her pose portrays her skepticism.
Astral answers, "Yes, that's right. The credits here are to finance the operation."
She wonders does Leia Organa have the Force? Probably not, or Darth Vader would have noticed. Or maybe Luke would have noticed. Astral isn't sure how the mysterious, magical Force manifests itself. She has listened to her husband describe it many times, but she still doesn't get it. She knows she never will. But she very much hopes her secret step-daughter has the Force so Leia Organa will sense how genuine she is. Lord Vader always says the Force betrays a liar. Astral wants the Princess to know that she is sincere.
"Let me guess-if the coup fails, he blames it on the Alliance? But if it succeeds, he puts himself in charge?" Leia Organa exchanges looks with General Draven. Then they both look to Luke.
Luke says nothing. They agreed not to discuss his role in the leadership going forward. It's too difficult to justify his position without revealing his relationship to Lord Vader.
So Astral leads with her most persuasive points. "He wants to bring back a Senate. To institute reforms."
"I'll bet." The General crosses his arms again and looks down his nose at Astral. "And how does this coup happen?"
"I told Luke that there's another Death Star under construction."
Draven nods. "Commander Skywalker told us."
"When the Emperor visits his new weapon, you blow it up. No more Death Star. No more Emperor," Astral summarizes succinctly.
"All with help from Darth Vader?" the Princess now reveals she has her father's penchant for sarcasm.
Astral takes the question at face value. "Lord Vader will tell you everything you need to know. He'll help you."
"I don't believe it," the General decides.
Thankfully, Luke speaks up. "She's telling the truth," the young Jedi vouches for her again. "This plan is legitimate."
Beside him, his puzzled looking secret sister slowly concurs. "I agree."
Astral takes that endorsement and runs with it. "The Emperor is half insane. He's obsessed with his new Death Star and determined to use it-"
"No one doubts he will use it," the General interrupts.
Astral implores the Princess. "We have to stop him or other star systems will suffer the fate of Alderaan."
"We can all agree on that," Leia Organa replies dryly. "Just tell us the system and we'll blow it up ourselves. With these credits, of course."
That's basically the plan. Encouraged, Astral continues, "He'll give you the go ahead once he knows when the Emperor will be there."
"We're not waiting that long," the Princess counters. "It's too risky. We can't let him get another one operational."
"Yes, but we only get one chance at this. The timing is everything. You'll never kill Palpatine on your own," Astral warns.
"Sure, we will. He bleeds like anyone else," Draven dismisses her concern.
That attitude provokes Astral to some vehemence of her own. "No, you won't! You'll never do it! Your young Jedi here will never do it. No one can do it without help on the inside. The Emperor's Palace on Coruscant is a fortress and he never leaves it. Don't you see-this is the first real chance in twenty years to take out Sheev Palpatine. It's impossible to get to him any other way."
"Let's be clear," Leia Organa snaps, "you want us to take out the Emperor so Vader can get promoted? That's the plan? Why should we help him?"
"He's helping you," Astral argues back. "Once we get rid of the Emperor, he will cut a deal."
"He's offering a Senate," Luke dutifully tells his colleagues. "Self-government at the system and local levels. No more superweapons . . . civil rights . . . amnesty for the Alliance. We get people in important positions."
"Yeah? I didn't hear freedom on that list. Or justice," General Draven points out sourly. "We'd be exchanging one tyrant for another."
The Princess shares his cynical assessment. "Vader is promising to ban super weapons? I don't believe it. I was there when he used the last one." Leia Organa shakes her head dismissively.
"He didn't give that order. Moff Tarkin did."
"He didn't exactly dissent," the Princess snaps.
"Maybe not in front of you, but he did later to the Emperor," Astral reveals. "Sheev Palpatine almost killed him for it. He spent months recovering. Where was Darth Vader in the weeks after the Death Star? The media was speculating, remember? I'll tell you where he was—in a hospital bed in terrible pain."
Astral turns to fix Luke with a meaningful look. "Do not underestimate the power of the Emperor. Do not squander this chance. Together, we can accomplish what neither of us can do alone. Luke," Astral urges, "this could change everything for the better."
The young man looks down and away, refusing to meet her eyes. There is a haunted quality to his expression that only Astral understands. For this is more than just a military and political decision for Luke Skywalker and he knows it. This is a personal decision that could be the first step to reconciling with his fearsome father. It's the same for Leia Organa, although she appears wholly ignorant of the subtext of this negotiation.
In fact, she speaks up tartly. "We took out a Death Star for Vader once already. Let me tell you what preceded that day—a whole lot of people died as Vader chased down those plans. Did he tell you that he almost got them? He swung his sword killing people left and right down a crowded hallway as our people scrambled to smuggle out the datafiles. Vader killed a lot of people indiscriminately and gruesomely. And then, to stop the security breach on Scarif and to keep us from learning more of the Empire's secrets, he turned the Death Star on the base. He killed his own men in order to stop us!" The Princess now pauses a moment to let her words sink in. "So you'll have to understand how skeptical we are to hear that Vader wants to take out another Death Star. This looks more like a trap. He wants to use our desire to kill the Emperor to get us to mass our ships for a final battle. Right now, the Imperial forces are spread thin chasing us all around the galaxy. But this scheme takes care of that problem by getting us to corral ourselves."
"This isn't a trap," Astral answers firmly. "This is the best chance you'll ever get to kill the Emperor."
"So we can replace him with Darth Vader who will no doubt exterminate the rest of the Alliance afterwards to solidify his power? Come on-he's as ruthless as they come."
The princess uses an especially sharp tone. Well, every time she has spoken thus far, she has used fast and biting words. She is a very intelligent young woman who tells it like it is, with no bother for a filter. It's . . . well, it's a lot like her father. It's also a lot to take from one so young, even if she is a Senator and a princess. But Astral supposes that like all young, beautiful women, Leia Organa probably merits some leeway in life. Beautiful women can get away with being overly aggressive and demanding. With being petulant or harsh. An ordinary woman would be off-putting with that attitude. She would be called overbearing, not spirited. She would alienate others, especially men. But not Leia Organa. She somehow manages to have charisma with her trademark firebrand rhetoric that is a mix of condemnation and principle. She pulls off the feat of seeming to be a gracious radical.
Watching her now reminds Astral of the many old holonet clips she has watched of Padme Amidala Naberrie. If the politics were different, Astral thinks, Lord Vader would adore his daughter. She'd be the daddy's girl of the Empire, instead of his dogged holonet troll.
But there will be no convincing the Princess today, Astral decides. So she appeals first to Draven. "General?"
He shakes his head.
Then, she appeals to her step-son. "Luke?"
"This isn't my decision," he replies. It's a punt, and they both know it. In many ways, Luke Skywalker's decision is the only decision that matters.
Absorbing the rejection, Astral feels her heart sink. This started off badly and she hasn't made any headway. Lord Vader warned her this was the likely outcome.
Everyone talks about bridging divides and reaching out to opposing sides. But in reality, that's mostly rhetoric. When it does happen, it's usually after there is an established winner and loser. The person reaching out has the upper hand and the other party knows it. It's why peace so often emerges after a war, not before it.
Moreover, peace takes incredible risk. For who but a foolish optimist would trust their arch enemy? No one does that if they can avoid it. Bitterness and distrust are insidious things. They gnaw at the best of intentions and chip away at hope. The Sith believe peace is a lie, Lord Vader once told her. But peace is not a lie, peace is just very, very hard, Lord Vader lamented. Hard to achieve, and easy to squander.
Well, blessed are the peacemakers, Astral thinks, for they have a thankless task. They rightly are called the children of the Force, like the old saying goes. But that is who Lord Vader actually is—a child of the Force. So if anyone can bring peace, he ought to be able to do it. Maybe that's what the whole Chosen One story is really about—making peace through balancing the Force. So Astral now girds her resolve and tries to do her part. She needs to at least get a meeting with Mon Mothma in follow-up to today.
She argues her case hard. "Lord Vader could give you back much of the old Republic. A galactic Senate and local self-government. Guaranteed civil rights and reforms. A free press. No more police state. No more living in fear. There will be freedom again in the galaxy. No more military occupations and superweapons."
Neither the Princess, the General, nor Luke looks convinced. It's not that they don't want these things, Astral knows. It's that they don't believe Darth Vader will bring them. His hands are too bloody from decades as the Emperor's chief henchman.
"You won't get another opportunity like this. Don't you want peace?" Astral half wails. She can hear the disappointment in her own voice. "Lord Vader can give you peace," she promises.
Leia Organa is principled in her reply. "Of course, we want peace. But we also want justice. There is no peace without justice, and no one trusts Vader to bring justice. Vader's part of the problem, not the solution."
She's wrong, Astral fully believes, but she can understand this perspective. Most especially because of this young woman's personal experience with her estranged secret father.
For his part, Luke Skywalker remains maddeningly silent.
The General ends the meeting there. He nods to Luke. "Commander Skywalker will show you to your ship." Draven glances at the box full of credit cards. "Leave the cash. We accept your gift."
Astral sighs and complies. "Very well, then. Thank you for at least hearing me out." This interview was only ever a perfunctory meeting, she realizes. The Princess and the General were never open to persuasion. Their minds were already made up.
Still, Astral argues for a second hearing. "I would still very much like to speak with Senator Mothma," she requests.
"I think we both know that won't happen," the General shoots her down.
"We speak for her," Leia Organa adds. "We have her full authority in this matter."
Astral eyes the hostile looking Princess a moment, debating whether to persist. She declines. Instead, Astral murmurs, "May the Force be with you," as she pulls up her hood. Then, she follows Luke from the room in a sweep of black velvet befitting Lady Vader.
"Why do you say that?" Luke complains when they are in the hallway alone. "It's a Jedi blessing."
"Your father says it," Astral answers simply.
It's not the answer he's expecting. Luke immediately changes the topic. "I'm sorry if you're disappointed. I know you mean well." He actually looks a little shamefaced.
Does the Force tell him how discouraged she is? Or does her face betray her strong sense of failure? Either way, Luke's right. Astral endeavors now to salvage something of the situation. She tells Luke, "He's already leaked the Death Star information. The Bothans will get it eventually. You're going to need to take out the weapon on your own."
"We can do that."
"We're all counting on that." The words come out a little peevish despite her best efforts. Astral shoots the young Jedi a hard look. "Try not to blow it up when your father is on it. Your Rebel friends might not believe it, but your father is the best ally you and your cause have."
Luke doesn't respond to that point. Instead, he looks troubled. Like he fears he has made a mistake. The determined blank expression he wore during the prior meeting is gone. Luke is back to looking like the confused young man she saw on Tatooine and Naboo. Now and then, he shoots her looks like he fears he's being tempted by the devil and Astral is his emissary.
"Vader really did oppose the Death Star all along, didn't he?" Luke grumbles. "What you said in there about the Emperor almost killing him—"
"It's true." And it's not the first time Luke's heard it. But apparently, it's finally made an impression.
"There is good in him." Luke says this like a flash of insight. Like a revelation. Like he's half incredulous of his own words. He even repeats them. "There is still good in him . . . "
Astral fights the urge to become angry at this attitude. Because now Luke gets it? Now? She could have used a fellow advocate a few minutes ago with the General and the Princess. If their friend Luke Skywalker would have spoken up in favor of the plan, maybe the outcome would have been different. But instead, he had mostly remained silent.
Astral stops walking, Luke stops walking, and now they face one another in the hallway. "There's always been good in him," Astral says in hushed tones. That's the real tragedy of Darth Vader. He has the potential to do so much good despite who he is . . . or maybe because of who he is . . . but only if Luke and his Rebel friends will give him the chance. But unfortunately, it appears that will not be the case.
"If he's still good, then why does he do what he does?" Luke complains. The kid looks so confounded. So genuinely perplexed.
"A lot of it is the Emperor. He must obey his Master." Sheev Palpatine's punishment is horrific. She's seen it firsthand. "Luke, that's what it means to be the Apprentice."
"He could still repent," Luke says this hopefully. Wishfully.
"And do what?"
"Come back to the good side," he answers automatically. It's so naive. So childlike. So simplistic. So wholly inadequate for the situation.
Astral sighs. "He'll never be Jedi again." She shakes her head and warns Luke a second time slowly under her breath, "He will never be Jedi again." Luke needs to get off that point.
The boy says nothing. He just looks at her stubbornly. It's clear he hasn't given up.
"There's no place for him here at the Rebellion, is there? I guess we knew this was a long shot." Astral makes a face and looks away. "He always says he's a fallen Jedi and a lousy Sith. That there is no place for him . . ."
"He could come back to the good side. It's not too late," Luke whispers furtively as Rebel personnel walk past giving them curious looks.
"It was too late before you were born," Astral shakes her head.
Luke digs in. "It's not."
But it is, judging by the conversation they just had with the Princess and the General. Astral challenges Luke, "What would he do then? Spend his days wringing his hands and apologizing? That's not your father. And he won't sit on the sidelines. He's the type who gets involved and takes action." Astral is very certain of her assessment. "He can't go back. He has to go forward. Whatever he calls himself, he won't be a Jedi."
"The Force will forgive him."
"Does that mean you will forgive him?"
Luke doesn't answer.
"And would your Rebel friends be willing to forgive him?" Astral answers that last question herself. "Not if today is any indication."
She rallies to her husband's defense. Darth Vader is a flawed man who has made many mistakes. But he's not the monster Luke believes him to be. "Look, I'm not sure if you can understand this, but your father has only ever done the best he can in the circumstances he is in. He long ago lost the luxury of idealism. He makes compromises and moves forward. He's a problem solver and a decision maker in a very imperfect world with a horrible boss. But still, he persists. Because he's a man who does things."
"What he's done is the problem," Luke gripes. "You make these compromises along the way and maybe they make sense at the time. But little by little, they add up. It gets easier . . . probably more frequent. And suddenly, it's not a compromise anymore. It's the norm." Luke's young face is full of conviction as he contends, "Eventually, you can justify anything because you are in the right. The ends always justify the means. And now, you're the bad guy only you don't know it. You can't see it." The young Jedi lifts his chin and maintains, "That's why it's important to stay in the Light. The Dark Side is a slippery slope."
Astral isn't here to argue metaphysics, but she can point out the fallacy of these bright line moral tests. "Did you know that your father says his body count as a Jedi far outpaces his body count as a Sith? And that's not counting battle droids." Luke's eyes widen at this news and Astral presses her point. "The Jedi sent him to war as a teen, put a sword in his hand, made him a soldier, and told him to kill. That's just what he did. He's been doing it ever since. You have no idea how tired Darth Vader is of war. But if you think he will let you and your friends tear the galaxy apart like the Separatists did, you're wrong. The Empire might have problems, but it's better than civil war."
"Ben Kenobi fought at his side and he didn't lose his way. He didn't fall to the Dark Side."
Whatever. Astral never met Obi-Wan Kenobi and she's glad. "Look, he's no war criminal, if that's what you're hinting at." Astral tone is tart like the Princess' now. "Don't lecture me about his unclean hands because most of the galaxy thinks you're a terrorist, Luke. There is no more moral high ground here at the Alliance than there is at the Empire."
He's offended. "I disagree."
She knew he would. "Until you can see things from the Empire's point of view, you will never understand your father's choices. You will never understand him." Empathy is what's missing from this situation, Astral decides. There's far too much judgement.
Luke reverts to his hope that his father will flip sides to reclaim his former Jedi self. "I understand that there is good in him . . . that there is Light in him. Where there is Light, there is hope. He could still be redeemed," Luke urges. Like it's the Jedi version of happily-ever-after. And this either/or, good/bad, Jedi/Sith mindset is exactly what Lord Vader wants to get away from, Astral knows.
She shakes her head now and mutters, "I don't even know what that means. Redeemed to what?"
"To the good side." Luke takes a deep breath and declares his manifesto: "If there is good in him, I can redeem him."
Astral frowns. "No one can redeem someone. They have to redeem themselves." You don't convince someone to change, they have to decide to change. Any woman who's ever tried to change a man knows that.
But Astral plays along. "Okay, so what if he flipped sides? Then what?" she prods. "He's not going to humble himself to gain the approval of others. There's only so much he will do to make amends. He's not about to sit in a prison cell or disappear into exile like your Yoda did."
"People will want justice."
"What does justice mean in this context?"
Luke shakes his head. "I don't know . . . I really don't know . . ."
"Why are we even discussing this?" Astral throws up her hands. "He will never be Jedi again. He will never work to recreate the past. He will only strive for a better future. The only path for him is to move forward."
"He has hurt a lot of people," Luke reminds her.
It's true. But, "So have you," she retorts. "And you will hurt a lot more if you succeed in making this uprising of yours an all-out civil war. Luke, even if you win, you're going to have to govern a lot of people who disagree with you. You may hate the Empire, but not everyone else does. And in your glorious democracy, those people are going to vote. You could find the Empire voted back into power again. Never forget that Sheev Palpatine was elected. Many people who don't know any better still love him."
Luke is nonplussed. "The Alliance will win in the end. Freedom will always win out over tyranny." Luke proclaims this softly, sounding utterly committed and painfully young.
"Not unless you kill the Emperor," Astral points out the obvious impediment. "And for that, you need your father's help. Is this about Yoda? Because there might be a way to compromise on Yoda—"
"No, this isn't just about Yoda." Luke looks away at the mention of his Jedi Master's name. Watching him now, Astral wonders whether Luke has confronted his teacher about the truth of his family history yet. From his body language, she tends to think Luke has continued to avoid the issue.
Luke grumbles, "This isn't about Yoda. It's mostly about him. I've thought a lot about this, and it's mostly about him. About who he is and what he's done."
She nods encouragingly. "Then meet with him. Talk to him. No swords, no fighting, just talking."
"We tried that."
"Yes, and you walked out! Luke, you can't just walk away from your father. You cannot deny the truth that is your family."
He nods soberly. Again, Astral sees that fleeting haunted look pass his face. Then, Luke looks resolute. "I'm not walking away. I know I have to confront him again."
Astral doesn't like the sound of that. It sounds like another fight. "I worry that you will get yourself killed on this path."
"I'd rather be dead than Dark," he answers solemnly.
Yet again, he is missing the point. Poor Luke Skywalker didn't have a Jedi Master long, but it was long enough to make a lasting impression. Astral sees that this young kid is hellbent on furthering the cause of the religious sect that has been extinct since he was born. Why does he cling to these outdated ideals? "You don't have to be Dark! Your father and your grandfather don't want that for you—"
"They are Sith. I see through them. This is about power. Regardless of what they say, this is about power." Luke looks her in the eye. "The only way I am joining Vader's conspiracy to kill the Emperor is if he's Light again."
"He will never be Jedi again." She pleads now, "Luke, let's put aside these ideologies and politics. Let's be a family."
"I had a family. He killed them, remember?"
"I know. I'm sorry," Astral mumbles as she cringes for walking straight into that verbal punch. Feeling miserable, she moans, "I wish we had found you sooner . . . back on Tatooine before the Jedi and the Death Star—"
"Before the truth, you mean?" Luke looks resentful and indignant.
It prompts her to complain, "What happened to that young man? What happened to the easygoing, hardworking kid who liked everyone and everyone liked him? To the young man who had no radical political or religious leanings?"
Luke looks away. He thinks a moment before he answers. "I guess war changed me. Death changed me."
Astral can relate. Loss has changed her too. Nothing has ever been the same after Alderaan. She nods at Luke's insight and quietly volunteers, "It changed him too. You should let him tell you about it."
Luke starts walking again and Astral does too. He's moving fast now and she hurries to keep pace. Does he want rid of her? Or is he frustrated and rattled like she is? Because this feels like a footrace to the cruiser's hangar bay.
Astral glances to her side and mutters under her breath, "At least promise me that you won't try to take on the Emperor yourself."
"I will do what I feel is right," Luke informs her curtly. And there he goes again with talk of right and wrong.
Astral feels compelled to warn him about his sanctimony. This crusade of his to recapture the glory days of the High Republic is based on gauzy, romantic revisionist history, she fears. Moreover, it will end the same way for Luke that it did for others. "You'll end up one more dead Jedi on a long list of martyrs," she predicts. "No one wants that."
Luke shrugs and looks especially determined. "No one's ever really gone."
"Stop with that Jedi crap—" Astral is irritated by his attitude. "You'd be throwing your life away! Luke, your father won't be able to save you from the Emperor. He couldn't even save himself."
Luke shoots her a cool look. "Maybe I'll end up saving him."
Not a chance, Astral thinks. "There are alternatives to fighting," she grinds out as she hurries to keep pace. "Make peace with your father and together make peace for the galaxy—"
"I'll never join him." They are nearly to her idling ship now. Luke pulls up short and tells her in no uncertain terms, "I'll never join him. Tell him that. If the price for peace is my soul, there's no deal."
Astral ignores him. "I'm coming back. This isn't over."
"Don't do that," Luke responds. This time, he sounds uncharacteristically harsh. Very much like his curt father. "I cannot assure your safety next time and I won't change my mind. Here," he hands her back Snoke's comlink.
"Are you sure?" Astral gasps, feeling stung. She didn't see this level of rejection coming.
"Yes. You need to leave," Luke tells her as he clenches and unclenches his prosthetic hand. It's a nervous gesture, she recognizes. Luke leans in close now. "Please get out of here before someone shoots you. You have no idea how hated he is. After Hoth, I wouldn't put it past a lot of Alliance members to take matters into their own hands. Not everyone here is a Jedi."
