AN: My apologies for the huge chapter - I couldn't break it into two as there didn't seem to be a good cut off point! Please see the last chapter for the story summary, and I hope that you continue to enjoy the story.
Many thanks to everyone who had left comment and to those who have been following and placing the tale on their favourite lists. Thanks also go to Kazlynh for beta reading, but please don't blame her for my atrocious punctuation. Oh, and please check out her fabulous fic!
All previous disclaimers still apply...
Dark Times:
Absolute
Part 4
The Y-Wing dropped from hyperspace and Rhovan knew immediately that he was too late. The super star destroyer loomed over the planet, TIE fighters buzzing about its body like carrion flies around dead flesh. He checked his scanners, adjusted the range and could make out a small group of ships heading for the surface of Horaarn.
Rhovan frowned. Too small to be an invasion. Too big to be an escort.
What was going on here?
Vader's going to retrieve his son.
He ignored the biting sarcasm of his inner voice.
How was Vader going to retrieve his son? Was he invading? If he wasn't invading, if he wasn't going to take the planet as ruthlessly as he had others then why transports? Why not go himself with a smaller escort?
There was another explanation, one that had been Rhovan's fear all along. Vader had made some sort of deal to get Skywalker
Made a deal using what?
Money? Horaarn was a wealthy planet with a strong ecomony.
Power? The Horaarns had no desire to gain more power. It was independent of both the Empire and the Alliance. It was its own master, it wouldn't come to heel for Palpatine.
Perhaps that was it. If Skywalker was handed over to Vader, Horaarn would not be invaded, would not be added to the growing tally of Imperial worlds ruled by ruthless Moffs.
It was blatant, but simple.
However... there was another possibility. Cusrean and Horaarn had common ancestry, more than that, they were close allies and had forged tight treaties that dated back long before the Empire, before the Republic. Attack one, and you attacked both. It had instigated war with surrounding systems on more than one occasion.
Cusrean had eagerly joined the Empire, the militaristic show of power, the strict rules and control of the masses appealed to the planet's leadership. They were welcomed by Palpatine who recognised the natural resources the planet. Metals and minerals – ideal for building his war machines. It had been stripped over the last two decades until now, until the planet was breathing its last and its people fleeing and needing a home.
Horaarn had remained independent after the fall of the Republic, had worked hard to maintain its status by working with both the Empire and the Alliance. However, its political views had always seemed to lean toward the Alliance, toward democracy.
Despite their opposite political views Horaarn had welcomed many homeless Cusreans, the Government working hard to integrate millions of them into their society, into their culture and economy.
Rhovan pressed the tips of his fingers against his forehead. His head was hammering, his nose still swollen and sore from Solo's punch, eyes black from the resulting bruising. He was tired, wired.
He had to work fast, had to get past that Super Star Destroyer and onto planet below. Had to figure out exactly how Vader was working this.
Horaarn was an ally of Cusrean.
Cusrean was part of the Empire.
They were allies, they had common treaties and…
It slammed home. The sudden understanding chilling him; he knew what Vader was planning.
"Shit!"
Behind him his R2 unit warbled in reply.
He ignored it as he drew closer to the Imperial ship, adrenalin pumping, headache pounding.
Then…
A sudden burst of laser fire across his bow and a crackle over his comm.
"Rebel Fighter, power down and be prepared to be tractored aboard. Any resistance will be met with deadly force."
He couldn't afford to be stopped. Couldn't afford this delay although he had known he would have to deal with this situation.
He toggled his comm. "Executor, this is Major Erwin Rhovan, service number three-three-five-six-nine-nine-nine-zero-nine-two. I am on a classified mission and should not be stopped nor intercepted. I repeat…" As he recited his words he could see a squadron of TIE fighters drop from the hanger bays and head in his direction.
There was a moment of static as his credentials were checked. The reply was not unexpected.
"Major Rhovan, there is a current warrant for you arrest. You are ordered to power down and be tractored aboard. I repeat, deadly force has been authorised."
"Lord Vader is not privy to my mission. Authorisation code aurek-aurek-three-three-four-zero-Dorn."
Seconds ticked past as this too was verified and just when he thought that it wasn't going to work he saw the approaching TIES loop around and head back to the ship. He could almost feel the nervous tension from the ship as his comm crackled back to life.
"Major Rhovan, we apologise, sir. Should we advise Lord Vader to expect you?"
He would still be arrested on sight if Vader knew he was about to land.
"Negative, as I said Lord Vader is not privy to my mission and our conversation and my presence here will be struck from the record. It never happened and I am not here. Understood?"
"Completely, Major."
"To whom am I speaking?"
"Piett, sir. Captain Piett."
"Thank you for your co-operation, Captain. If you will, please contact Horaarn control on my behalf and have a speeder waiting for me on my arrival."
"Of course, sir," there was a long silent pause while his order was carried out. "Major, we have you on a cresh-one-aurek approach. Landing platform three-three-five, expect cross winds and heavy snowfall."
"Thank you."
He cut the comm and input the given vector to the autopilot. The Y-Wing veered downward, cutting through the atmosphere, shuddering with turbulence as the air burned around the cockpit. Then he was down and into dark swelling clouds, flying through snow so thick that he could see nothing around him despite the sensors indicating he was entering the Horaarn capital city.
Gritting his teeth he passed all control over to the astromech droid, not trusting his own piloting skills, or the battered rebel ship for that matter, to see him safely down.
The landing was softer than he had imagined and he popped the canopy and drew himself out into the falling snow. Jumping down he opened a storage hatch in the fuselage and retrieved a bag. He quickly stripped from his flight suit and shoved it away into the open compartment.
Pulling at the hem of his jacket to straighten the uniform he had worn under the rebel clothing, he donned his cap and turned at the sound of an approaching vehicle.
He wasn't too surprised to find that it was an Imperial troop transport, nor was he surprised to find a squad of stormtroopers spilling from it and heading in his direction. It was an outcome he had thought possible.
"Major Rhovan, you will come with us, sir." The leader trooper voice gave no room for quarrel, as he cradled his heavy weapon in his arms.
A snow flake landed on Rhovan's nose, his breath misted in the cold air. "I am not to be impeded in my mission, sergeant."
The trooper took in the dark uniform; the insignia and the rank that adorned it.
"Forgive me, sir, but Lord Vader has need of your services."
"And where is Lord Vader just now?"
"He is heading to the court house, sir."
"And Skywalker?"
"Is already there."
"Excellent. I must compliment Lord Vader on his efficiency."
Rhovan stepped forward into his phalanx of guards and stooped down into the transporter. As he sat down he knew, just as well as the troopers around him, that despite the absence of handcuffs, despite not being verbally cautioned, he was very much under arrest.
Vader's men were nothing, if not loyal. He must have words sometime with that Captain.
ooOOoo
"How's it lookin?"
Thecla tried to twist around in the tight confines of the drain as she climbed her way down. She glanced up, seeing the corded durasteel she was hooked onto trail above her. She was several metres down the shaft, hanging from the belly of the Millenium Falcon.
"It looks dark, cold and wet!"
She could feel the chill seeping through Skywalker's old flight suit that she wore over the civilian clothes she had changed into. The idea was to add some protection from the contaminants of the sewer system so she didn't smell so bad when she emerged, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be much help and the orange fairly screamed "Rebel" should anyone see her.
Han grinned. Yup, feisty! Luke would like her, probably already did like her but was too shy, or too messed up just now to do anything about it. "So, apart from that, how does it look?"
"Tight," she gritted her teeth, wriggled, dropped a few more centimetres. She probably didn't need the line, she could have just slowly worked her way down without it. But the line wasn't to get her down, it was to get back up should she need, too. However, if their plan was successful she would need to find another way to get back onto the platform to make good their escape; Luke Skywalker would never fit in the hole.
She slipped another few inches, felt her feet swing free below her.
"I'm there!" she dropped and found herself swinging freely on the line. It was pitch dark, but she could feel air bush past her, could hear running water.
"Okay," Han called out; he glanced at Haslam who handed him a flashlight and Thecla's side arm and holster. "Catch!"
Thelca watched the silhouette of the flashlight fall toward her and easily caught it. Her blaster and holster followed. She turned on the torch, swung it around the chamber and grinned. "It's just as the droid said! I can see the adjoining tunnels."
"Okay," Han called down. "So you remember the plan?"
Thecla smiled grimly. She could hardly forget it. It was so simple. After gaining the data requested and being advised that the Lieutenant Commander's droid had rendered all surveillance of their platform ineffective – he'd blacked out a quarter of the city under the guise of a power plant failure due to the storm – she was to work her way into the storm drain, make her way into the sewer tunnel, follow the path Artoo had marked out that would take her directly under the court house. There was a secured and ray shielded access portal that would take her into an abandoned subway system that was once used to transport prisoners to and from the jails and prisons.
From there she should be able to get into the building itself. And then…
"…you know," the Corellian had told her, "make it up as you go along."
All she had was a flashlight, a blaster pistol, the clothes she wore and a comlink.
This would be easy.
"Good luck, Sarg," Haslam shouted down and she knew he only wanted her back safely; Haslam didn't give bantha shit about Skywalker.
"Yeah," Solo added, "Good hunting."
ooOOoo
…shouldn't be here!
Luke sucked saliva into his mouth and licked his lips trying to wet his parched mouth. He swallowed, dryly, tried not to gag at the nausea crawling up his throat. Agitation worried him, made him restless, bade him move; screamed at his senses….
…shouldn't be here!
… to take action.
To avoid what was coming.
But he couldn't move, wasn't allowed to move from this spot.
Taking in a deep breath, trying to calm his fraught nerves, he let his eyes wander around the court room.
It was a vast arena. At the rear three tiers of public galleries rose toward the ceiling with hundreds of seats. On the floor was more yet more seating. Behind him, sectioned off, were what he supposed to be areas for a jury, for lawyers and other court officials. Before him was a raised dias with seven large, black, high backed chairs, sitting behind slate grey marble panelling. The aurebesh symbols "Dorn" "Vev" and "Jenth" were etched into the middle section and he briefly wondered what the letters stood for in Horaarn society.
On the wall behind the dais was the flag of Horaarn. Heavy fabric, vibrant green with the same aurebesh symbols stitched in gold. A vaulted, transparisteel ceiling rose high above the chamber. During the summer months it would allow natural light to flood the hall, but for now the windows were covered in layers of fallen snow and the court room was lit artificially with lights that hung from thin corded durasteel lines that crisscrossed the massive space.
Luke was standing in the middle of all this, on a small square platform, arms firmly fixed in binders behind his back, shackles around his ankles, thick belt around his waist to which both binders and shackles were fixed. Directly above him hung a light, illuminating him brightly for the court, its heat already warming the air around him and he knew that as the day went on it would become uncomfortable, unbearable and he knew that was the point.
He swallowed again, anxiety and fear churning within. It wasn't just about being here and worrying about the coming hearing. It was something else, something he couldn't quite grasp.
Shouldn't be here….
He shifted his feet, grimaced as his lower back muscles cramped. He'd been standing for almost an hour now as he waited for the court room to fill and proceedings to begin. He had been the first one to be brought in by members of Horaarn's black garbed, security forces and politely directed to this spot where he was told he would be for the duration of hearing.
Once he was in place the soldiers, or police forces – he didn't know which – took their places behind him and so they had waited in silence.
He drew in a breath, looked up at the ceiling. Just wanting this day over and put behind him. If all went well he and Leia could be back with others on the Falcon and heading back to the base at the end of it.
Heading back to…
Court martial.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his head, shifted his feet once more trying to find an easier stance, but the chains around his ankles didn't allow him to move his legs very far apart and he was forced to stand how they wanted. Again he was sure this was deliberate.
Court martial.
He knew he wouldn't be facing the severest of punishments, Leia had already told him that should he be found guilty that the Alliance wouldn't shoot him.
Which was...good.
On the way to Horaarn she had explained that extenuating circumstances would be considered and that the court would be even more lenient if he pled guilty. That had started an argument with Han and he had slumped low on the acceleration couch as they fought, their voices droning loudly in the background although he paid no mind to words being said.
He was guilty.
He had punched Rhovan. He had pulled a weapon. He wasn't sorry. He didn't feel sorry about it at all.
He opened his eyes, tearing his thoughts away from Rhovan and that cell on Escaal before they could flood his mind with memories and images best left unremembered.
"We will speak at length, young one."
He shook his head, annoyed that Vader's words had broken through. Annoyed he was allowing his thoughts wander to past events. He should be concentrating on today, on what he was going to say, on how he was going to explain his actions.
How did you explain why you had killed over twenty thousand people? How did you explain that there was a little girl out there, tumbling in space with seared skin and clothing because he had obeyed an order against his own knowledge that his target was benign?
A door slashed open to his side startling him and pulling him from his thoughts. He took in a breath trying to calm himself but his stomach churned and twisted with renewed anxiety as others began to filter in.
First more security personnel took up their stations at each door way, helmeted soldiers carrying heavy blasters, then the public galleries began to fill and the murmur of voices droned through the area, growing louder with each passing moment.
The heat in the room grew as it filled, as the light above him burned. He was beginning to sweat, could feel pinpoints of fluid begin to bead on his forehead, and could feel the high collar of his borrowed uniform tighten around his neck. His breathing quickened as robed court officials entered and took up their places. He glanced around, looking for Leia, desperate to see a friendly face among the sea of strangers who looked upon him with a mixture of hostility and curiosity, but he couldn't see her, couldn't find her.
Get out!
"Shit," he swore under his breath, fighting his instinct to run, knowing he wouldn't get far in binders and shackles.
"Sir," a hand was laid on his shoulder and one of his guards leaned in. "It is not advisable to curse in court."
"Sorry…" Luke murmured, strangely grateful and comforted for this contact with someone after standing in silence for so long.
"Only speak when spoken, too," he was advised.
Luke nodded, looking behind him. "Of course, thanks."
The sounds in the room were becoming louder as conversations continued and more people flowed into the court. Greetings to known friends, colleagues and acquaintances could be heard around him and the monotonous noise of people grew louder. It seemed like he was the only one with no-one to talk too, stood alone and isolated from the growing crowd.
Shouldn't be here…
He shuffled his feet again as his discomfort grew, as his back cramped from the stance, as the healing cut on his cheek burned with an itch he was unable to scratch. His back had healed well over the last few weeks, so much so that he had been able to fly and practise with his saber, but he had a feeling that maintaining this position throughout the day was not something his back would be able to do without protesting.
Something flickered and flashed brightly in the corner of his eye and Luke started, turning to see what it was.
His heart sank, his throat tightened as he watched a holo-camera float around him, catching him in its lights. He looked around; saw more floating about the chamber.
This was being broadcast…
Get out! Now!
He dropped his head, fighting his conflicting feelings, fighting to steady himself, to remain calm, to get through this day. His heart hammered in his chest stealing his breath, his head filled with the white noise of panic. He swallowed, look a deep breath. His head was light with dizziness and he was he was terrified he was going to pass out.
"I need to speak with Lieutenant Commander Skywalker!"
The familiar and indignant voice cut through the haze of growing consternation that was threatening to pull him down and he turned around, delighted that Leia had arrived. His panic began to subside just by knowing she was in the same room.
"Leia!"
The Princess was standing just behind him, cut off from him by a barrier and by the line of guards behind him. She turned, caught his eye and smiled briefly in reassurance mouthed "Don't worry," and turned back to her argument with a court official.
"I was given assurances by the First Minister that I would be able to speak with Luke before the hearing," she told the small man, unconsciously reaching up to touch the large ornate hairpin that held up her elaborate hair style.
"I am sorry, Your Highness, that is impossible at this time," he drew himself to his full height, a full inch shorter than Leia. Luke smirked, it was the first time he had seen Leia trying to use her height as an advantage. "The hearing is starting in a just a few minutes, the panel of judges… I mean… the Honorable Members are due in court now and…"
She was looking around the room. "Where is the First Minister? Is he not attending?"
"No, Your Highness, the First Minister has other matters that require his…"
"All rise!"
A voice boomed out over a speaker system and as one the crowd rose to its feet, the holo-cameras stopped buzzing about the room and all turned toward the dais at the front of the room as seven darkly robed men entered the room and walked in line to the seven chairs and sat down.
"This isn't over," Leia hissed at the official before she stepped back to her own place.
"Be seated."
The crowd sat as one, the silence broken only by the sound of shifting fabric and an occasional cough as people settled down into their seat.
Luke was the only one left standing.
The man in the central seat cleared his throat and glanced briefly at Luke before speaking, his voice carrying throughout the chamber, the holo-cameras hovering at strategic places in the room picking up all angles and every sound.
"I am Chairperson Gra'vel, with me are the Minister for trade and Industry, Harten, and Representatives Ewa'an, Fier, Nukkan, Sleran and Trenja.
This is a Governmental Committee Hearing to investigate the incident that occurred over Cusrean in which twenty thousand four hundred and fifty two civilians died during an attack executed by the organisation known as the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Despite the setting in this court building this is not a trial. We are not here to pronounce sentence or establish innocence; we are here to ascertain the facts about the attack. What lead to the attack? What role did individuals have in the attack and could anything have been done to prevent it?
It is our intention to then consider these facts and the Government is tasked with deciding if we should withdraw our support and supplies to this organisation."
"Withdraw!" A voice shouted from the public gallery and other angry voices rose with the same shout.
Luke hung his head, closed his eyes as that one shout was taken up by many voices and became a chant.
"Withdraw!"
This was all his fault.
Shouldn't be here!
The chairperson rose, his hands raised to calm the crowd. He remained silent and gradually the chanting waned and died out.
Gra'vel sat back down only when silence had fallen once more.
"We have with us representatives from the Alliance to give evidence; the Princess Leia Organa," he began, resuming where he had been forced to stop, "and Lieutenant Commander Luke Skywalker."
"Sentence him!"
"Death!"
"Death!"
Again another chant, voices clamouring for his execution.
"Death."
Luke lifted his head, ignoring his desire to turn around to Leia. He stared ahead at the Horaarn flag, setting his jaw and paying no attention the holo-camera that hovered nearby, picking up every movement or gesture he made and broadcasting it to the planet, to the solar system, to the whole galaxy.
Gra'vel rose to his feet again, appealing for silence, "My fellow citizens..."
He tried again, "My fellow citizens..."
As silence began to fall, he continued, "My fellow citizens, I ask you to please show due respect for this Hearing or I shall have no choice but to clear the public galleries. It is our intention that all aspects of this Hearing be open to public scrutiny and nothing is to be hidden – the Alliance agreed to these terms, assured us that they have nothing to hide."
He looked down at Luke. "The Lieutenant Commander graciously laid aside diplomatic status and agreed to place himself in our authority. He is not under arrest by Horaarn law, and thus he is here merely to give evidence with regards to the Alliance attack, not to appeal any guilt or prove his own innocence. Nor are we here to pronounce sentence. I am not a court judge."
Luke's back stiffened in surprise, horror rattling through him at the Chairman's words. What? Appeal guilt? Prove innocence?
What did that mean? Did that mean they thought him guilty of the attack?
You are guilty….
"The Lieutenant Commander is standing here, on the Convicted Rostrum, only in respect of our laws, nothing more."
Convicted?
What?
What did that mean?
A murmur rippled through the crowd and Luke didn't know if this was a good thing, but the tension in the court room seemed to ease and he breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced behind him at Leia, saw her frown, her eyes narrowing at the Chairperson's words. She glanced at him, caught his eye and nodded, mouthed again, "It's all right."
"Do we have a delegate from Cusrean?" Chairperson Gra'vel was looking at a vacant section of the court room where a row of seats behind a table lay completely empty.
Again Luke saw the Princess scowl, but it was a fleeting expression, there and then gone, as her face became placid and unconcerned. However, Luke knew that she was ever the consummate politician and that her true feelings were easily hidden behind the façade. There had been no mention of a delegation coming from Cusrean, but it made sense to Luke that they would be invited to give their own account of what happened.
He just hoped that the Empire hadn't been invited.
Shouldn't be here!
There was silence, until one representative leaned forward and whispered to Gra'vel, who nodded and turned back to the body of the court. "The Cusrean delegation will be with us later in the day to present their evidence," he announced.
There was a pause as the chairperson lifted a datapad and consulted the information that it held. "Very well, we shall call our first witness. Will the Princess Leia Organa please step forward onto the witness stand?"
Luke heard Leia rise, listened to her footsteps pass by him and watched as she stepped up onto a raised platform to his right. He was thankful he could see her now, felt more at ease with her presence as she smooth back her dress and sat down on the chair provided. A glass of water was placed onto a small table at her side.
Need to get away.
He swallowed, nervously licked his lips, and shuffled his stance as Leia addressed the committee panel members.
"Honourable members," her voice was strong, firm with no room to doubt her conviction. "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker and I would like to thank you for your hospitality and thank you for this opportunity to present our testimony to the committee, to the peoples of Horaarn and Cusrean and to the Galaxy."
A few on the dais bowed their heads in acknowledgement.
"However, there are some… aspects to this hearing about which I have to lodge formal protests. I had hoped that we could deal with these issues before we proceed any further."
The Chairperson conferred with rest of the panel, heated whispers reached Luke but he couldn't make out what was being said. Then a few nods and an agreement reached.
Gra'vel nodded at Leia. "Go ahead your Highness… but please be as brief as possible as we have a long day ahead."
"Thank you, Mr Chairperson," Leia paused, looking at Luke. "My first issue is with how the Lieutenant Commander is currently being held. He has been found guilty of no crime and yet he has been bound and made to stand for the duration of the day. I respectfully request that his bonds be released and that he be allowed to sit at the delegate table along with myself."
Luke suppressed his smile, his relief that Leia was fighting his corner.
Again there was a discussion, quick angry whispers, some of the panel nodding, some vigorously shaking their heads.
"His bonds may be released," Gra'vel conceded, "but he will remain where he is, in respect for our laws as he agreed."
Leia tried again as Luke's guards move forward and unbuckled the belt and released Luke's wrists and ankles. Even this small concession on the Horaarn's part was welcome. "I thank the committee, however the Lieutenant Commander suffered a back injury several weeks ago, and it is unlikely that he will be physically able to remain standing for the duration of the hearing. I am sure the panel members would not be willing to have a guest collapse during his testimony."
More concessions on the part of the Horaarns. "Very well, have a chair brought forward. However, Skywalker will remain where he is on the convicted rostrum."
Convicted?
Why did he keep saying that?
"Thank you, Chairperson, you are most gracious," Leia acknowledged, with a nod of her head.
Luke stole a glance of gratitude at the Princess as he rubbed at the abraded skin of his wrists and sat down on the chair that had been placed behind him. He was grateful to be sitting, relieved that the Horaarns had conceded these points to the Alliance.
But….
Need to move…. Need to leave… now!
… it didn't relieve the urge that he shouldn't be here, that he needed to grab Leia and just walk out.
Run.
Just leave, return to Han and get away from this place before…
…before what?
Before something happened, before this feeling grew, before whatever was going to happen actually did happened.
He rubbed at his eyes, noticed his hands were shaking and pressed them to his knees, hoping that no-one noticed how nervous and agitated he was.
Leia waited until Luke was settled to speak again. "My second point is the public broadcast of…
ooOOoo
… this hearing. I am here to give evidence about an attack against an Imperial Space station by the Alliance, evidence that may contain information that is classified and cannot be in the public domain lest it endangers Alliance personnel and military operations. I was not asked about this, nor was I told by Horaarn officials that this would be happening."
Han leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands at he watched the hologram of Leia speak on the holonet. "You tell 'em, sweetheart."
He hated this. Hated being stuck on his ship twiddling his thumbs while Leia and Luke were to be put through the wringer. The few times the cameras had focused on Luke he had seemed agitated and nervous…
Well, who wouldn't be. No surprise there, Solo.
… shuffling his position every few moments, looking at the ceiling or the floor, looking every bit like a tree-myre caught in headlights. The kid was definitely out of his depth. This was Leia's forum. It was no place for a kid not long dragged off the farm, who'd had enough trauma to deal with over the last few months.
"The people of Horaarn value openness and honesty, Your Highness," the chairperson returned.
"As does the Alliance, Chairperson Gra'vel," Leia agreed. "However, we are at war and in war one does not needlessly share intelligence with the enemy. Neither myself, nor Luke, will answer questions that may place our operations in danger."
Han noticed her looking at Luke, her gaze firm and pointed, giving an order to the kid in front of the entire Galaxy. He saw Luke nod in acknowledgment, but Han thought it was a moot order; no way would the kid have answered anything to place the Alliance in danger.
More conferring among the committee members and then. "Agreed, Your Highness and we will endeavour not to ask any. Perhaps a ten minute delay in broadcast will give time to edit out anything that may slip passed us?"
Leia nodded. "That is most gracious of you, Chairperson Gra'vel."
"What's happening?" Haslam asked, joining Han in the passenger lounge and throwing himself on the couch behind the dejarik board. He was as bored and as uptight as Han, worried about his sergeant.
"Hearing's just started," Han told him. "Any more from Thecla?"
"She's complaining of the stench and the cold, but she's making her way. It might take a few hours though."
Han nodded, half listening to the soldier, half listening to the holonet as Leia's protests ended and the questioning began.
"Chewie?" he asked.
"Gone aft," Haslam jerked a thumb behind him. "I think he wanted to check out the rear shields in case we need to bug out quickly."
Han glanced around, looking at the big soldier in a new light. "You understand Shyriiwook?"
Haslam nodded. "Yeah, a little. My folks traded with the Wookiee's just before the Empire. I'm a little rusty, but I understand most of what he says."
The hologram of the hearing stuttered and stopped and both men looked up at the paused image. Leia sat with her mouth open in the middle of saying something and a voice over stated. "Please wait for the broadcast to begin again."
"This'll be the ten minutes grace they're giving, Leia," Han explained to the soldier. "So they can edit out any sensitive information."
Haslam nodded. "So, you're on first name terms with the Princess?" There was a grin in the soldier's terms.
"Only when she's not here," Han told him quickly, lying.
"Word is she and Skywalker are close."
Han considered the stir of jealousy that spiked, the Princess and the kid were close… but not that close.
What was he had said only a few days ago, testing Leia, gauging her feelings for their mutual friend... "He's like a brother to me, too."
Leia hadn't replied, she had merely smiled. There had never truly been a hint of anything between the two apart from friendship since Yavin. Back then the kid had obviously been infatuated with her and Han had gone to great lengths to tease him about it, egged him on to do something about his feelings.
But the kid never had… not with Leia anyway.
"They're close," he told the soldier wanting to end the conversation. "Just not in the way you think." He hauled himself from couch. "I'm gonna check on, Chewie, holler when the broadcast starts again."
ooOOoo
Rhovan was bundled out of the troop transporter into a snow covered courtyard surrounded on three sides by a tall, forbidding building. On the forth side was the huge gateway the carrier had passed through.
He instantly recognised a prison. The phalanx of soldiers immediately closed around him, giving him no choice but to be herded the way they wanted.
Is this where they had Skywalker?
"Sergeant," he called to the lead trooper. "Why am I here?"
He knew the answer before the Sergeant gave it.
"This is where Lord Vader ordered you be brought, Major."
So he was still "Major," still not in cuffs, but somehow these facts didn't ease his tension. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wincing at the spike of pain that his movement caused his injury.
"For what purpose?" he demanded.
If someone had snatched your son from you, how would you react?
"I'm sorry, sir, Lord Vader does not always explain his orders to me. I just carry them out."
Still being addressed as "sir," but a trooper would never dare be sarcastic toward a high ranking officer, but these were Vader's men, the five hundred and first and fiercely loyal to the Dark Lord.
There was no doubt about it, his mission for Mon Mothma had failed. He had run from the Alliance with only one thought in his head, to keep Luke Skywalker away from his father, he had neither thought through his course of action, nor had he seriously considered that they would refuse to recognise his authorisation code.
This was nothing to do with his position in either the Alliance or the Empire.
This was personal.
A door swept open as they approached the building and Rhovan found himself being walked down a long, bright corridor toward a bank of turbo lifts. Curious Horaarn prison guards watched their progress from their posts with a mixture of fear and interest on their faces. He was not processed as other prisoners would be; he was not welcomed, showered and given a medical.
All that was by passed, just as he would have done; after all his welfare was not their primary consideration.
They stepped into the first turbolift and it fell at stomach dropping speed, slowing only as it reached its floor. He stepped out into a chillingly familiar set up.
A central command desk with monitoring systems, three hexagon-shaped tunnel-like corridors branched off from the main atrium and black garbed Imperial prison guards stood, or sat, at their posts.
Imperial, not Horaarn.
For only the second time in his life Rhovan hesitated on entering a maximum security holding facility.
"Major Rhovan," a helmeted guard stepped forward, a lieutenant by his insignia. "If you'll follow me, sir."
Rhovan heaved in a breath, fought to swallow his nervousness and nodded. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."
The stormtroopers held back as the guards took their places and chaperoned Rhovan down one of the corridors. They stopped by a cell door pausing only for the young lieutenant to activate the lock release and the door swept upward.
"After you, sir," he stepped to the side allowing Rhovan to step down first into the cell.
The first thing he saw in the interrogation cell was a solitary hard backed chair sitting alone in the centre of the floor. A single bottle of water rested on it. It threw him back to those long days from weeks ago when Skywalker had been brought through a similar door and into a similar room to find Rhovan waiting on him.
And he supposed that must have been the point.
The door dropped at his back, shutting him and two of the guards in the room. He tore his eyes from the chair, and to the man standing behind it.
"Major Rhovan," the stranger welcomed, brightly. "I am honoured to meet you!"
"Captain," Rhovan greeted, noting the man's rank insignia, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. "You have me at a disadvantage."
The man's thin lips spread into a smile. "Yes, I do, don't I?" He sounded sly and he reminded Rhovan of Major Aryn from Escaal; a thin weasel of a man who seemed to delight in the pain of others. "I am Captain Velaptor, an interrogation specialist like yourself."
"I had noticed," Rhovan's replied, dryly, wishing the man would just cut to the chase and get on with it.
A smirk. "Of course you have." Velaptor lifted the bottle of water from the chair and stepped around it. He sat down, appraising the man standing before him. After a few moments of silence he said. "You are injured, Major."
Rhovan's hand went to his chin where Skywalker's punch had landed; his nose ached from Solo's blow. He forced himself to smile, no matter how much it hurt his face. "I find that our occupation is not always understood."
The Captain laughed. "Indeed!" Another few moments of awkward silence as each weighed up the other.
"I have studied your methods extensively, Major." Velaptor told him, his words scored with genuine admiration. "You are known to be quite… brutal."
"Only when I have to be," Rhovan stated, hoping that the warning he wished convey was understood.
Another smile, the warning recognised and dismissed. "I could not help but notice that some of your key prisoners died quite early on in their interrogations."
"It can happen," Rhovan dismissed.
"Yes. Yes, it can," Velaptor agreed with a nod. "But for you, it became almost a common occurrence. On Escaal, on Cusrean and Hasthaal… ah… Hasthaal. That's where it started wasn't it?"
"Where what started?"
"Where you deliberately killed your first prisoner of course," the Captain threw at him. "I did explain I had read about your methods, but I also studied you, Major. It struck me that perhaps you had him killed to protect the information he had on your resistance operations."
Rhovan's mouth was suddenly dry as he belated realised what was happening here, and how foolishly he had allowed himself to be tricked. He was already being interrogated.
"Ten years ago, surely you remember?"
Rhovan bit down on his answer, refused to be baited, refused to acknowledge what the Captain was saying. He had put this behind him, had thrown himself in to his work and into the resistance networks he had helped build on these worlds. He swallowed with growing consternation, recognising he had very little control here.
It was an unpleasant acknowledgment and he knew that those who had been brought before him probably had had their own moments of clarity, an understanding on how much their welfare was solely in the hands of another and there was nothing they could do about it.
"A young rebel," Velaptor continued. "A resistance fighter was captured on Hasthaal and brought to you. I read he put up quite a fight. I also read that you were granted discretion not to be involved in his interrogation and yet you requested to stay. I believe your commanding officer was very impressed with your commitment to your duty and to your Empire. He commented that you put personal feelings aside and served your Emperor with vigour."
"I am the Emperor's willing, Servant," Rhovan conceded, knowing it would do him no good.
"Hmmm," The interrogator mused. "I wonder if your brother felt the same way when you beat him, when you used the droid on him, when you wrung the screams from him."
A pulse beat in Rhovan's neck. The only outward sign of his inner struggle.
Sam had known what he was getting into, had known the consequences if he was captured and yet he had still agreed to smuggle the weapons through the check point. He had also asked…
No, Sam demanded…
….that should he be taken that Erwin be there for him, be with him. To do the deed himself if he could, because only then would Sam be strong enough to resist the pain and the questions.
He leaned into the prisoner, grabbed his dark hair and pulled his head up. He barely recognised Sam; features battered into a mass of swollen, bruised and bleeding flesh, blood dribbling from his mouth, from his nose, dripping darkly onto the floor.
"I told you, brother," he sneered the word, putting as much hate and venom into it as he could. He was too aware of the monitors, of the scrutiny he was under. "I warned you I would not hold back."
Sam spat, clearing his mouth of blood. "I…. ne…ver… thought you…. would…" He gasped and sucked, spat again, this time at Rhovan. The blood filled spittle landing on his elder brother's face.
Rhovan stepped back, wiped his face and swung hard, back handing Sam's face. Then he quickly grabbed Sam's hair again, brought his mouth to his brother's ear and whispered desperately. "Sam… no more… Don't make me do this… give me something, something small… damage control."
"Just… do it… Erwin…"
"Your brother was all of…" Velaptor made a play of remembering. "… nineteen years, was he not?"
Rhovan said nothing, refusing to be goaded.
"I wonder, Major…." The Captain relaxed back into the chair watching him closely. "Did Skywalker remind you of your brother?"
He hadn't. Skywalker was nothing like Sam. Memories of his brother had never risen to plague him during an interrogation, not even when the subject was his brother's age, or younger. He let the Captain have that one, though; let him think he had made a score. It would help lull him into a false sense of security and would allow Rhovan one thing on which to focus during his own interrogation.
He only prayed that he could be as strong as Sam, as courageous and he wasn't sure if it was a blessing, or a curse, that he knew intimately what he was about to face.
Without an answer Velaptor grinned again, aware that Rhovan had finally caught up with what was happening. He nodded to the guards and a durasteel line dropped from the ceiling, a panel slid open in the back wall and a small, black, spherical droid floated out of its storage space.
There was a rattle of cuffs from behind as the guards moved in.
"Major Rhovan," Velaptor said pleasantly. "I believe we all know the process here, we all know what I have to do."
Rhovan drew in breath, his back straightened and he injected rage into his voice. "I am on a specialised mission. My authorisation code is aurek-aurek-three-three-four-zero-Dorn. I am neither to be delayed nor detained. Check it."
Velaptor sighed, shook his head, feigning sorrow. "I'm afraid Lord Vader has countermanded your orders. He was quite specific with his own instructions, so you will forgive me, Major, if I now follow his mandate."
"You'll regret this," he warned, tightly.
Velaptor stretched his legs, crossed his ankles, hands on his lap, relaxed. "No, Major Rhovan, I won't. I think I'll actually enjoy this."
Rhovan glanced at the line, at the waiting droid, felt the impatience of the guards behind him, knowing what was coming next.
"Please, Major, remove your uniform."
ooOOoo
Shouldn't still be here.
Luke's senses were screaming at him to get up, to move, to run. With each passing moment the feelings heightened, strengthened.
He had to get up, get out.
Panic beat in his chest, clogged his throat. He felt lightheaded, sick.
But still he sat, listening as Leia was grilled by the committee, as question after question was put to her and she answered, head straight, voice strong and resolute. She disputed points, explained their data and where it came from, refused point blank to reveal source locations and debated details.
"No, no," Leia was shaking her head, face grim, her tone one of polite indignation. "If you refer again to paragraph one hundred and three of our intelligence report," she paused allowing the panel members time to scrawl through their datapads, again she played with her hairpin. "You will note that the information gained by our intelligence network clearly demonstrated a clear and present danger to the security and the well-being of billions of beings in the galaxy. Furthermore, this was corroborated by…"
A holo-camera hovered close by and Luke flinched at the sound of its repulsors, almost yelled aloud as its lights flickered across him. Memories of the droid on Escaal surging to the forefront of his mind and he wondered what he looked like on the holonet screens across the galaxy with his battered face and nervous movements.
Again a hand on his shoulder and whisper from one of his guards. "Sir, are you all right?"
He wanted to say no, he wanted to tell them that he needed to leave, needed to get out of this chamber, out of this situation.
"I… could use some water," he told them, seeing Leia briefly glance in his direction, concern darkening her eyes. Could she see how he was feeling, could she sense how badly he wanted….
… needed…
…. to get out of here.
How long had they been here? How many hours had passed since Leia took the stand? Would they take a break before calling him?
He didn't know if he could go up there, didn't know if he could answer any more questions. There had been so many in the last few weeks…
"With which squadron do you fly?
"Why didn't you eject?"
"What evidence do you have to support such drastic and costly action, Lieutenant-Commander?"
"When the questioning turned from the Network and to the Alliance, what did you tell them?"
"When did you first become aware of Darth Vader's presence?"
Why?
Where?
What?
Who?
When?
Questions, demanding answers. Some he had known, some he had not. Some he never wanted to say.
"Sir," The voice was back and a cool glass of water was being placed into his hand.
He nodded loosely, "thanks," and, having to use both hands to stop himself shaking and spilling the liquid, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.
It was cool, fresh and….
"Drink. It's glucose water. You need it."
… it stuck in his throat. He gagged, choked, coughed and finally swallowed.
He glanced up, saw Leia watching silently watching him, became aware of more stares; the spectators in the public galleries, the committee members, court officials, the holo-cameras.
His heart hammered in his chest, what had he missed? What had happened?
The Chairperson leaned forward addressing him for the first time. "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, are you unwell?"
Luke swallowed, cleared his throat. "No, sir," he lied, surprised at how strong his voice sounded. "I apologise." Although he wasn't sure what he was apologising for.
Gra'vel didn't look convinced, however he turned to Leia. "We thank you for your testimony Your Highness and ask that you remain at the delegate table in case we have need of you to clarify information or to answer additional questions."
Leia stood, bowed her head respectfully at the panel. "Thank you, Chairperson."
She stepped down and returned to her place behind Luke.
Gra'vel again checked the datapad in front of him and looked back at Luke. "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker will you please step into the witness box."
He couldn't move, his body had locked in place. He felt all eyes on him, felt the expectation in the court room as they waited for him to move.
He was cold. Frozen.
Shouldn't be here!
White noise, high pitched and whining, hissed in his ear.
Get up!
He took in a breath, swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as his throat worked, and willed himself to stand and place one foot in front of the other. He walked to the witness box, followed by his ever present guards.
Another glass of water was placed beside him as he sat, but he didn't dare touch it, didn't want anyone to see how hard his hands were trembling.
This was more terrifying than going into battle.
"Lieutenant Commander," Gra'vel started as soon as Luke was settled. "How long have you been with the Alliance?"
"Ju…" his throat clogged, the words got stuck and he cleared his throat. "Just over two years, sir."
"Yes, yes…" The chairman checked his datapad. "The Battle of Yavin was your first sortie, yes?"
Luke glanced at Leia, who shook her head.
"I'm, ah… sorry, sir. I can't answer that question." He knew why Leia shook her head; he'd be admitting live on the holonet to his part in the battle, giving the Empire more ammunition to hunt him down. Although, just being part of the Alliance was enough to incriminate him in the eyes of the Empire; he was a rebel, a traitor.
"You are reported as the pilot who destroyed the Empire's space station as it travelled through the Yavin system, is that not correct."
Again he glanced to Leia, again she shook her head.
"That's what was reported, sir," he confirmed.
Gra'vel smiled at Luke's evasive answer. "Is that not the truth?"
This time he didn't need to look at Leia. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't answer that question."
A holo-camera zoomed in on him, its lights flickering in his eyes. He winced, tried to focus on the committee panel, on the questions they were going to ask.
Get out!
"We are not going to get very far, Lieutenant Commander if you cannot answer our questions."
Luke bit back his initial retort that Gra'vel needed to ask questions that he could answer. "My apologies, Chairperson, I don't mean to be obstructive."
Another member of the panel sat forward, his name escaping Luke; all their names escaped Luke. They were strangers wanting to know all about him.
"With which squadron do you fly?"
Luke chilled, his blood running cold in his veins. He had been asked that before.
Hanging from the line, he tried to lift himself on the cuffs, tried to find some relief for his stretched muscles. He could feel the drug crawling through his veins, could feel his senses react to its guileful ministrations, its insidious influence on his body. He was awake and coherent, as they wanted, but he was also exhausted, suffering from dehydration and starvation, and very weary of the pain, of the questions. He lowered his head, stared at the floor, at the blood and sweat that dripped there. He was aware he was moaning, grunting softly as he breathed, but he was helpless to stop it.
"Luke?"
Rhovan's voice questioned as he turned away and looked at the other Imperial in the room. "Perhaps," he suggested as the other grinned. "if he is reluctant to tell us of the Resistance he will be more willing to discuss his Rebel Alliance?"
A chuckle reached him through the roaring in his ears, through the panic and the pain. This was a joke to them.
This was fun!
"With which squadron do you fly?" Rhovan continued.
"I…uh…I," he licked his lips, looked at the glass of water sitting beside him and then down at his hands. He clasped them together on his lap, nails digging into his palms, knuckles white.
"Lieutenant Commander Skywalker?"
Numb, Luke glanced up at the panel, at the man asking the question.
"Are you all right?"
There was genuine concern in the committee member's voice and Luke was thankful for it. It brought him away from his memories, took him away from the cell, from the harsh lights, the unyielding binders on his wrists and the droid hovering at his back as it waited to shock him on the orders of a man who was now one of his superiors officers.
Again he cleared his throat. "I'm fine, sir. I… uh… I'm not used to public speaking and I'm a little nervous."
A murmur rippled through the audience and Luke picked up hints of commiseration and sympathy. It warmed him, soothed him that others could understand, it….
Shouldn't be here!
"I'd say more than a little nervous, Lieutenant Commander," there was a smile in the Horaarn's voice.
"Uh, yes, sir." Luke acknowledged, managing a smile himself.
"Can you answer my question?"
Luke shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I cannot."
He could feel the exasperation of the committee as they conferred with one another. He risked a glance to Leia and she nodded and smiled at him in encouragement.
"Very well," it was the chairperson again. "Let us just concentrate on the event itself." He peered down at Luke, warning. "I am expecting your full co-operation, Lieutenant Commander."
Luke nodded. "I am willing to give it, sir."
And so they started.
"Beginning with your briefing, what were you specifically told about your target and the mission objective…"
ooOOoo
The walls of the tunnels were wet, slick with water and growing algae and bitterly cold. Thecla's footsteps on the walkway above the flowing sewage echoed as she cautiously made her way through the labyrinth guided by the droids over the comlink.
Long ago she had turned up the collar of the old flight suit and buried her mouth and nose into the fabric to stifle the stench of the place – throwing up again was not something she relished; her mouth already burned with the taste of bile and she was growing thirstier by the minute.
She was nearing a bend and she aimed the flashlight to the floor as she moved forward when a sound stopped her. She flicked the light off, stood still and listened.
A murmur of voices from up ahead, a quiet echo of footsteps.
Having already hidden twice from workers, Thecla glanced around in the darkness looking for an alcove, another tunnel into which she could duck to avoid the approaching Horaarn's.
"Threepio," she whispered. "More workers…"
"Oh, my!"
Thecla winced, his prissy voice sounding very loud in the tunnels.
"Pipe down, Threepio," she hissed. "What does Artoo say?"
A muted beep and, "There is a smaller access tunnel on the other side of the main tunnel, about twenty metres behind you."
Thecla glanced over, but couldn't see anything in the gloom and she glanced down not wishing to have to immerse herself in the sewage below. "Is there nothing on this side?"
"There doesn't appear to be, Sergeant."
"Shit!" She cursed, and grimaced; soon she would be swimming in it.
She could hear the footsteps approaching, the voices getting louder. Pocketing the comlink in one of the shoulder pockets and placing the flashlight grip between her teeth and trying not to breathe through her nose, Thecla lowered herself to the floor, swung her legs out over the edge and slowly eased herself down into the flowing sludge. It stank, and she dry gagged at the feeling of the cool liquid as it encased her legs, reaching her thighs.
She waded as quickly and as quietly as she could to the other side and hauled herself up onto the walkway on the opposite side. Dripping wet she jogged back twenty metres and ducked into the access tunnel as a light swept around the bend.
She moved further back into the shadows as the footsteps became louder and the voices more distinct. They were tinny, familiarly distorted and they chilled her even before the five figures in white armour passed slowly by her hiding place.
She held her breath, her hand going to her holster and pulling her blaster as their footsteps slowed and stopped.
"Don't know why we just don't invade rather than all this sneaking around."
"It's not up to us to question orders, private."
"But why this place?"
"So no-one can get near the court either above or below, and…. hang on…. This T-AR-four-nine-eight we have completed the sweep on section four-seven. There's nothing down here, sir."
There was a crackle, a burst of static. "…maintain position."
"Understood, sir."
"Great," the first voice moaned. "We're stuck here."
Thecla had no sympathy for them. She had been down here for hours now, only to find her way blocked. She glanced up the access tunnel and began to move further into it, slowly and quietly making her way down it away from the patrolling soldiers.
Once around a wide arcing bend she felt safe enough to retrieve her comlink keying it and whispering. "This is a no go, we have troopers in the sewers. I repeat there is an imperial presence."
"Shit."
Her heart was still racing, adrenalin pumping at her near miss with the troopers, but she couldn't help but grin at Haslam's curse given her legs were caked in the stuff.
"What's happening," Solo's voice broke over the comm.
"We have troopers, sounds like there are more between here and the court house. There's no way I'm getting past them."
There was silence for a moment followed by a question. "D'ya need to abort?"
Did she? Did she want to go back? Wait this out safe…
…well, only a little safer if there was an Imp presence in the system…
… on the ship while Luke…
Luke?
… the lieutenant Commander and the Princess were alone and vulnerable in what now looked like hostile territory.
She pounced on the first idea that came to her. "That's a negative, captain. I'm going to try for the Princess's accommodation see if I can meet up with her and the droids there after the hearing."
"I hear, ya, Sergeant. Good luck,"
"Thanks, sir, I'm going to need it," signing off from the Falcon, Thecla re-keyed the comm and contacted the droids. "Change of plans, Threepio," she said quickly. "I need a route from the access tunnel to the Princess's apartments – a route that doesn't go anywhere near the court house. We are crawling with Imps down here."
"Oh, dear," the golden droid exclaimed, sounding more alarmed than Thecla herself, and she had to wonder why Skywalker put up with such a neurotic droid.
"Sergeant, Artoo says to keep following the tunnel you are in until you reach a T-section, about two kilometres. Turn left and keep going for a further three kilometres that will bring you close to the guest accommodation. However, there is no access from the sewer into the building. You will have to exit at street level."
"What security is there?"
"It is somewhat substantial, I'm afraid. It is, after all, diplomatic accommodation."
Thecla winced. "Imperial troopers?"
"No, sergeant, Horaarn security."
"Okay, have Artoo see if he can help with getting me in and by passing the security systems."
Shutting off the comlink Thecla continued into the gloom, keeping her flashlight off in case its beam was picked up from other tunnels by the patrolling stormtroopers. This was going to be even trickier than she thought.
ooOOoo
"… came out of the hyperspace jump hot."
"Hot?" an older man at the end of the panel asked.
"Uh, yes, sir. It means that weapons are on line and armed, so that we're ready for action."
"Thank you," the man waved at him. "Go on…"
Luke leaned forward and lifted his glass, the tremble in his hands not quite so noticeable now that he had been sitting talking for a while, and took a drink wetting his throat. He placed it down and continued surprised at how easy it had been, so far, to distance himself from the actions he was speaking about, how easy it was to gloss over his feelings and not think of the Cusrean station as anything other than the biological weapons research facility they had been briefed about.
"We approached Cusrean at high speed, broke off into our attack groups and headed for our assigned targets. We…"
The chairperson checked his datapad. "Your target was the reactor core?"
"That's correct, sir, as I stated earlier."
"Continue."
"We could see the Command vessel, a Super Star Destroyer but it was outside of attack range at that point. We took the opportunity to release our torpedoes and…"
"Did the station open fire on you?"
Luke bit back his annoyance at the constant interruptions, more annoyed at the memories they invoked than at the people asking the questions. If they could just allow him to speak, to tell the story then he wouldn't need to dwell on the specifics. "No, sir, it did not."
"Didn't you think that was strange?"
Luke shook his head. "No, sir, we caught them by surprise."
It was true, at that point it hadn't been strange at all.
"I see…. Continue…"
"Well," he said, recalling, but trying not to recall. "We released our torpedoes, the station was hit, damaged. It was at that point that the Empire engaged us. An attack wing of TIE fighters and Interceptors attacked and…"
"Defended."
Luke looked up wondering who had spoken. "What?"
It was the Chair who spoke. "Wouldn't you say that the Empire took action to defend the station?"
Luke smiled, shrugged. "That would depend on whose side you are on, sir," he pointed out.
"And the civilians on the station, young man. Whose side do you think they were on?"
The stark reminder was like a blow…
Shouldn't be here!
…and, shaken, Luke couldn't initially answer. He glanced over at Leia for support, for guidance, but she looked grave, understanding how badly he had handled that question.
"The Princess Leia is not the one on the stand, Lieutenant Commander, please direct your attention to the committee." Gra'vel voice was low, cautioning him.
"I… I'm sorry, sir. I… of course the Empire was defending the station," he said hurriedly, trying to repair the damage he had done. He had appeared callous and uncaring, had deliberately ignored the fact of the lost lives so that he wouldn't need to feel them.
Get out!
His senses screamed at him again, a sudden wave of dizziness flushed through him and he put his hands to his forehead.
"I…"
Something was wrong.
Something was so very wrong.
He heaved in a deep breath, fought to focus on the committee members waiting for him to speak as the doors at the back of the court room swung open.
"We… you need to understand, sir, that we didn't know about the refugees. We had no way of knowing that the station was not a threat."
"Liar!"
ooOOoo
Worried about the Imperial presence on the planet Solo had returned to the acceleration couch and settled to watch the hearing once more. He had a really bad feeling about this whole set up, because now there was no doubt in his mind. This whole committee hearing scenario was just that – a set up being played out for someone else's amusement.
The Empire was here for them; for Leia and for Luke.
Han winced, groaned, at Luke's slip, and watched as the kid struggled to rectify his mistake, but the Corellian knew that the damage was done. Luke had completely over looked the refugees. He knew it hadn't been deliberate, knew that in Luke's mind he had just reached that point in his story, that he had wanted to tell his own version of events from beginning to end and in the correct sequence.
Luke just hadn't been ready to acknowledge what his actions had done, how many innocent people he had unintentionally killed.
"Liar!"
The shout had come from off camera and the picture swung around.
Solo was on his feet in an instance, cold horror flooding through him. His hand automatically touching his side arm although he could do nothing to help his friends from the confines of his ship.
"Get Thecla," he ordered Haslam who was staring at the holonet player in shock. "Haslam, get Thecla on the comm! Now!"
The big soldier started, "Yes, sir!" and immediately keyed the comlink.
"Chewie!" Han roared, calling his co-pilot. "We have a big problem."
ooOOoo
And Luke found himself on his feet, the chair behind him falling over to clatter on the floor. His hands fumbled uselessly at his belt searching for his absent lightsaber as Darth Vader strode down through the vast chamber toward the dais and the sitting committee members. Firm hands were placed on his shoulders, the chair righted and he was forcibly pushed back down onto his seat with a warning.
"Sit down and stay down!"
Leia was also standing, leaning on the table before her for support, speaking loudly, but her voice was drowned out in his head by Vader's wheezing breath.
It was a sound he had wakened to in that cell on Escaal, a sound he had voluntarily walked toward on Ra'imar, a sound that haunted his dreams and visions.
How could he not have felt him?
How could he have missed his presence when he was so close?
The Force…
He bowed his head. The Force had tried to warn him, his feelings had been fraught, taut with expectation and he had ignored it, had pushed it away; had known that he couldn't have done anything else.
The crowd was alive; the roar of surprise, of shock, filled the chamber as Vader reached the empty table set aside for the Cusrean delegation. He stood alone across from Leia and waited silently.
Chairman Gra'vel was on his feet, holding his hands up once more asking for quiet, for calm and very gradually the noise fell away leaving the court room in silence; Vader's mechanical breathing filling the void.
Gra'vel sat. "Welcome to Horaarn, Lord Vader, I trust your journey was uneventful?"
Vader addressed the Horaarn, although he was looking in Luke's direction. "My apologies for my late arrival, I was…"
"I must protest, Chairperson Gra'vel," Leia's voice shook, from anger, from fear. "We were guaranteed that there would not be an Imperial presence at this hearing."
It was Vader who turned to her. "I am not here representing the Empire. I am here as the appointed delegate for Cusrean, asked to attend by the Cusrean Council on behalf of its displaced people."
"Displaced by the Empire," Leia hissed in disgust.
"I do not believe we are here to debate Imperial policy, your Highness. We are here to discuss the wilful murder of refugees."
Murder.
That brought Luke's head up and he stared in dismay at his enemy.
"That's ridiculous!" Leia responded indignantly. "The Alliance had no information to suggest the station housed refugees. Our intelligence clearly stated that…"
"I am not talking about the Alliance," Vader cut in turning his attention back to Luke. "I am talking about Skywalker."
Luke couldn't breathe, his lungs had seized. He knew, somehow Vader knew!
"Luke had exactly the same information as the rest of us, Lord Vader," she drew on his name, scorned it with her tone. "He couldn't possibly have known." She looked over at Luke, and he watched her search his face, looking for his innocence and seeing her growing alarm when he didn't respond, didn't deny it.
"He knew there was no danger, he knew there was only innocence on board the station," Vader told her, ruthlessly, "and still he fired upon it."
There was a pause, a minute flicker of silence, before the Chairperson spoke from the dais. "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, is this true? Did you know that the station posed no danger before you fired?"
The blood had drained from him, he felt cold, sick and faint. He couldn't speak, his eyes fixed on Vader…
"We will speak at length, young one."
… he couldn't tear his attention away and his hand unconsciously moved to his bruised and cut cheek – the result of Rhovan's retaliation - the same cheek that Vader's fist had connected with on Escaal after Luke had spat on him.
"Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, please answer the question."
The barked command broke through and Luke dragged his gaze from Vader and back to Leia. His voice was torn as he spoke, as he ripped away her hope.
"Yes," he said. There was a roar in the court room, a sudden tumult of screaming voices that drowned out the rest of his words. "I knew."
ooOOoo
"Shit, Kid…" Han breathed with a sudden understanding of what had been happening with Luke since the attack. It wasn't just his capture and torture on Escaal, it wasn't just finding out that it was refugees on the station that was eating Luke up; it was the fact that, somehow…
… that hokey Force shit?...
… he had already known. Had known before he had fired his torpedoes. "Shit…"
Why had he fired? If he knew, why go through with it?
Han closed his eyes, remembering Luke's briefing after the evacuation of Adralii and his reprimand for disobeying an order, remembering the holonews broadcast of the battle; of the ferocious dog fights around the station and the number of Alliance pilots killed. Luke had done it for his friends, to save them; Luke had done it to avoid disobeying yet another order.
He glanced up at Chewbacca who stood just inside the passenger compartment watching the growing fracas on the 'net. The crowd was furious, had risen and pushed forward shouting and screaming for blood, people were falling, tripping up in the surge. Hundreds of Horaarn soldiers flooded the chamber, standing between Luke and delegates against their own people as the chair person appealed for calm and for the court to be emptied.
Fighting broke out, shots were fired and at last the crowd moved back more out of fear for their own lives than a willingness to clear the chamber.
"We need to get them out of there."
ooOOoo
Silence finally descended and a cordon of soldiers remained around the delegates as the public areas were cleared of stragglers and as the injured were carried out.
Gra'vel and the panel members looked shaken. Leia was sitting down ashen faced, but stoic. Vader had remained standing throughout, his hand hovering over the hilt of his lightsaber and it was he who broke the cloying quiet.
He looked across at Luke, who sat alone among his guards defeated and lost; his face pale, his head low and eyes cast down.
"Chairperson Gra'vel," He spoke loudly, his voice carrying and echoing in the vast empty room. The ever present holo-cameras closed in on him. "On behalf of the Cusrean people I hereby demand that this committee be suspended and that the Government of Horaarn give due consideration to the Cusrean petition to have Lieutenant Commander Skywalker extradited into Imperial custody so that he may be returned to Cusrean to answer to the charges of wanton and malicious murder."
ooOOoo
To be continued...