AN: As always my thanks to the people who are reading this story and, again my thanks to those who are commenting. I am astonished that so many people have followed, favourited and commented on this series. My thanks to you all for the support shown to me as I write and deal with real life.

I felt a little guilty at the last Interlude being so short and, with today (25th May 2014) being the 37th anniversary of Star Wars' release, I thought I would post this one a little earlier than I had originally planned to mark the day.

I'm a little nervous about this one...

There are only two more Interludes to go - however I have yet to get them back from Kazlynh who I thank again for beta reading for me. (Seriously put her name into the search box and read her fic!)

All previous disclaimers for this story still apply...

Dark Times: Interlude 6:

Prisoners

Rhovan tightened his fist, his glove pulling tight across his knuckles, and lashed out. The blow sent the prisoner's head snapping back, the power of it toppling the man from the chair and onto the floor.

The Major stepped over him. "I'll ask only one more time," he growled with impatience. "Fleet rendezvous points?"

The man spat blood from his mouth, his cheek already colouring and swelling. He glared up at Rhovan and pressed his bloody lips together, keeping silent.

Rhovan turned on his heels and addressed the waiting guards. "Give him some more thinking time."

The two guards moved in as the door opened for Rhovan to exit. There was a grunt of pain as the prisoner was dragged from the floor. Then…

"Your days are numbered, Erwin."

Jaw hardening, Rhovan stopped, glanced back at the man held between the two guards. A long time ago they had been friends. "Not as numbered as yours, Carlist."

The door snapped shut as soon as Rhovan stepped up into the corridor. He stood for moment, fists clenched by his side.

Godsdammit!

Rieekan had shown him guarded hospitality, refuge and a place with the Rebellion. He had nothing to offer the General, now, other than prolonged pain and a slow death.

He couldn't risk killing Rieekan in interrogation. He couldn't give him too much of the drugs, he couldn't break his neck during a beating, he couldn't pinch the right blood vessel or ram his head against the wall. This was not Escaal. In this prison, his word was not the final authority. In this prison, subjects only died when the Emperor willed it and woe betide anyone who caused the death of an inmate before Palpatine consented.

Rhovan was as much a prisoner here as the Rebel General, and so he would dutifully obey his Emperor's commands and Rieekan would live, would suffer and would break.

"I would never have placed you as a contemplative man, Major Rhovan."

Rhovan chilled, stiffened, and stood to attention as Darth Vader strode purposefully down the cell corridor. "My Lord," he greeted, berating himself for being lost in thought, for losing focus and not hearing the Dark Lord's approach. He was acutely aware that this was the first time that he had been in the presence of the Sith since he had snatched Luke Skywalker from Escaal. "Forgive me, I was not made aware that you were visiting the General."

Vader could only be here for Rieekan. He was the highest ranking Rebel in the prison, a major coup for the Empire. An irreplaceable loss for the Rebellion.

Hoth had been a massacre for the Alliance and Rieekan had been delivered to Imperial Centre by Vader himself only the day before.

Since the death of Skywalker Vader had not been on Imperial Centre. It seemed the death of his son had only served to drive the Dark Lord in his pursuit of the Rebellion, putting down insurrection with swift and fierce force. More worlds had been conquered and subjugated, thousands dead in Vader's efforts to end the Rebellion once and for all... and still they fought on, planning sedition even as they ran.

Rhovan had to wonder where Mothma was hiding.

Perhaps Rieekan would break and tell them.

"I am not," Vader told him and Rhovan was sure there was a hint of humour in the Dark Lord's voice. "I am here for the woman."

Woman?

Rhovan glanced up the corridor to the cell door that had not opened for over sixteen weeks.

"The Rebel sergeant?" he questioned, falling into step with the larger man, suddenly afraid for the soldier who had killed Skywalker. The Emperor's instructions had been quite clear: she was to stay where she was, untouched and unvisited, until he called for her.

Was Vader about to disobey his master's direct orders?

He was sure it wouldn't have been the first time. Only Vader seemed immune to Palpatine's wrath and could push boundaries that no other would dare step close to. Trying not to smile, Rhovan recalled his conversation with Rieekan and Ehlen Anders back on Adrallii just after Luke Skywalker's debriefing following the Cusrean incident.

"But it's when Jedi follow orders that you should worry."

Rhovan had been referring to the history of Jabiim, when Anakin Skywalker had left hundreds to suffer and die by following his orders: one of the few times that he had.

Perhaps the Sith were the same as the Jedi in some respects, or perhaps that statement was only true when it came to Anakin Skywalker and the Sith Lord he had become.

"Come, Major, we both know that she is no Rebel."

Rhovan licked his lips, took in a nervous breath. "I am not sure what you mean, My Lord, I…"

Vader stopped before the doorway and turned on him. Rhovan was proud of the fact that he did not step back from the Dark Lord.

"I have not forgotten your actions on Escaal, Major!" Vader warned him, choler tainting his tones. "Nor have I forgotten that you assisted a Rebel pilot to escape custody. A Rebel pilot named as the man who destroyed the Death Star."

Rhovan said nothing, he merely stared into the lenses of the mask as Vader paused. Vader could mean anything by that first statement. Rhovan's actions on Escaal ranged from building the underground resistance network, to handing over plans and schematics of the weapons factory to the Alliance and helping them plan an attack. It could mean Skywalker being given sanctuary by the Network after he was shot down, to his torture of the pilot once Luke had been taken captive. However, the mention of the Rebel pilot, of Luke Skywalker, was quite telling.

"I trust Captain Velaptor made my point clear on Horaarn?" There was a hint of dark humour, a hint of caution.

Still unflinching, refusing to recall his own brief torture at the hands of the expert sadist now stationed on the Executor, Rhovan told him. "Implicitly clear, my Lord."

It had been retribution, it had been a lesson. What he had done to Skywalker, Vader had done to him.

Vader held his gaze for long seconds before turning away to regard the cell door behind which sat the agent of the Empire who had killed his son.

"Then you know who Skywalker was."

And, despite the leaden weight of Vader's voice, despite the sorrow he was sure he heard, Rhovan chilled once more. Vader's words were a statement, not a question. "Yes, My Lord." There was no point lying.

"How?"

Again, he was not about to lie. "The Lady Mon Mothma."

"Mothma?" The name of the Alliance leader was a hiss of anger and again the angular mask turned on him inviting clarification.

And still he did not cower from the Sith. Rhovan straightened his back and explained. "After Alderaan, after Yavin, Skywalker's droid sought her out. It carried a message detailing Skywalker's birth…" Here he did pause, briefly pondering his fate once the truth was acknowledged and if Vader could tell that there was also a truth omitted; Luke's sister had to remain unknown. "…and who his parents were. Who his father was."

For long moments Vader was silent, unmoving, digesting that information. The only sound in the corridor was the suck-hiss of the Dark Lord's breathing and the hammering of his own heart in his ears. What he wouldn't give to know Vader's thoughts at that moment. He braced himself expecting more questions… expecting his airway to constrict. Expecting so much more than he got.

"Then join me, Major," Vader invited at last, activating the door of the cell, "I may yet have some use for you," and he stepped down into the fetid atmosphere of the tiny room.

Rhovan let out a breath, sucked saliva into his dry mouth and throat before following Vader down into the cell. He was sure that Vader could feel his relief and disbelief that he had been allowed to survive with such knowledge. He knew, too, that the man would still have questions needing answers…

Or not… Luke Skywalker was dead. Did that knowledge really matter anymore?

The girl was sitting up on the bunk, tired eyes blinking and narrowing in the additional light that bled in from the corridor. To her credit the only outward signs of her terror were the flare if her eyes, the pulse of a muscle in her cheek and a slight tremor in her hands. She was drawn, pale and so much thinner than when she had first stepped in here all those weeks ago.

She took in a breath, turned on the bench until her feet dangled over the side, toes barely touching the floor. "My Lord Vader," she greeted, her voice thin and wispy, dry, her eyes briefly flickered his way.

"The Emperor wishes to see you," Vader stated, getting straight to the point.

And Rhovan saw the brief turn of her lips, the hope flashing in dull eyes.

"I am the Emperor's willing servant." She slid off the bench to stand and almost collapsed as her legs folded. Neither Vader nor Rhovan made any attempt to help her. She caught the bunk, righted herself and held her head high and proud.

"You are to join him at the Surgical Reconstruction Centre," Vader told her, standing before her, blocking her access to the door.

Rhovan saw alarm spread on the woman's face. The SuRecon was the most prestigious medical centre on Imperial Centre. It had also housed Palpatine's court in the early days of the Empire. The throne rooms and private dwellings for his Excellency, were still in the pinnacle of the tower.

"I trust the Emperor is well," she said, sounding genuinely concerned, despite her solitary incarceration, her punishment.

Vader moved to the side, the door now within the prisoner's sight and reach. "He is in excellent health, but he is concerned for a patient's wellbeing. He believes you may be able to assist him."

Brief confusion pulled the girl's brows together, but then her eyes shot to Rhovan. The question he saw in them was the same sudden question, the same abrupt thought that churned his own gut with unease and caused bitter bile to rise in his throat.

"I… I'm not sure what you mean, My Lord," she whispered. Rhovan knew she was lying, he knew her comprehension had slipped home at the same moment as his.

"The patient is waking," Vader told her, told them, turning to regard Rhovan. His tone indicated that he expected them both to understand his unspoken meaning. "The Emperor believes his recovery would be assisted if he woke to a familiar face."

ooOOoo

To be Continued in "Truth"