NOTE: When last we saw Luke, Palpatine was dangling him out of the highest spire of the Imperial Palace aka Jedi Temple.
He let go.
###
He flapped his arms and legs, desperately reaching for something to hook onto, but he was in freefall with nothing but air around him. Maybe this hadn't been his best idea, but he was free… at least for a few seconds until Luke Skywalker turned into a splat on whatever solid surface awaited him below.
I can't believe you dropped me! he shrieked to the Emperor.
Force! Force Force Force! DAD! He focused as hard as he could - then remembered that he was supposed to relax. Open himself to the Force, feel it around him, let it create Fluffy Air that would cushion him. He felt… Dad! Yes, a boost in the Force, his father supplementing his strength, but the side of the building was getting closer very quickly, and there was a wide platform that he was going to smash into.
There. He felt his Force return to him. Did he do that himself? Did his dad do it? Or maybe Palpapuss didn't want him to become a splat. His plummet slowed, and he twisted to look down to decide where and how to land. He relaxed further, preparing - but he was snapped to a stop, flopping like a rag doll. His body began to rise.
Palpatine!
Oh no, you threw me away, you're not getting me back! He flailed his legs like he was running, propelling himself toward the building. There were chinks in the concrete, barely deep enough for his fingers to latch into, but he grabbed at them. Bracing his feet against the wall, he somersaulted over and aimed for the platform again. Once he got there, it was still a long way down, but that shouldn't be a problem since he had his Force (plus his confidence was bolstered by the memory of his smug dad boasting on the bridge of the mighty Executor: He excels in gymnastics). Yeah!
Palpatiny was still tugging and trying to slow him down. Nope! I got my Force back and I'm keeping it! He ran and leaped to the edge of the platform where he was surprised by the building's incline. It looked like a giant slide (and he was willing to gamble that a few daring olden-day padawans had used it as one). He slipped over, curled up, and landed on his side, glad for the armor to help protect him although he might be bruised and sore for awhile. The cloak billowed behind him and he tried to gather it close, because he was not letting anything happen to it!
Woo-hoo! This is fun!
I don't know what you're doing, his father called, but stop worrying about clothes!
Luke grinned. Then I wouldn't be ME! Whoops!
Okay, that was a butt-point landing. Another platform! This building was way too big. Well, he'd just keep going until he got to the bottom. Assuming there was a bottom. Palpapuss wasn't yanking at him any longer. At first he thought that was good, but then he wondered if Palps wasn't bothering because he could trace Force usage and knew exactly where Luke was at every second.
Well, krit. There was nothing to be done about that until he got down safely. So he continued, taking big chances and bigger jumps, and eventually landed at the top of the longest set of steps he'd ever seen. Good news/bad news: there were no Imperial troopers to grab him because they were running away from –
Double-krit, was that a missile? Great. Involuntarily, he crouched and covered his face even though he knew he wasn't close enough to be damaged. However, it left a crater partway down the steps, and the dark smoke coming out of the hole made him cough, which was annoying.
On the other hand, the smoke might help hide him. Two more long leaps and he was beyond the damage and free. With regret, he cut himself off from the Force, hoping his dad sensed he was okay. He raced across the plaza expanse and eventually reached other buildings and darted between them. Quickly, he removed his cloak, reversing it to the dull inside because expensive sparkles would show up on security cams and give away his location immediately. He wrapped it around to partially disguise his armor, then trotted until he reached a marketplace that was filled with people who were either ignoring the battles in the sky above them or cowering in doorways that they (ridiculously) hoped would act as shelters.
He kept his face shielded, avoiding the troopers who were too few to control the crowd if they panicked. Diving into a narrow alley, he hesitated at the dumpsters. Oh, if only he could use the Force to paw through them, but he didn't dare. And really, he didn't need the Force - he had Tatooine Street Smarts! He hoisted himself onto the edge of the container but didn't reach in. Nothing on top looked promising, and the smell advised him not to search further.
He kept roaming, checking the storefronts, then moving quickly from one alley to the next until he found the area he wanted. A garment district! With any luck these dumpsters would be more promising because this wasn't the sort of neighborhood that impoverished clientele would visit. If he got caught by troopers, he could do a Big Reveal of his gorgeous cloak and they would think he was merely an eccentric, not a criminal on the run.
The dumpsters yielded some exquisite fabrics that he desperately wanted, but he couldn't risk standing out too spectacularly, so he settled for a length of tan wool that had a defect running the width of it. It was perfectly and (boringly) inconspicuous. He draped it around his shoulders and over his head, partially concealing his face. Between that and his cloak underneath, only the tips of his armored boots showed. Now he looked like a civilian who was smart enough to wear armor when a war was underway. Although a glimpse in a shop window told him he actually looked like a back-planet tourist. From Tatooine.
Now what? He rode moving stairs down a few levels to an older part of the city where he thought he might fit in better. But as it turned out, there were so many species wearing so many different styles and headgear and even furs that no one gave him another look. Still, he couldn't risk trying to get to his dad's giant Suit-like tower (aka apartment building?). Palpatine might assume that would be his destination. He would have to sneak around to the Western Sea and find the 'fortress', although he had no idea how far it was. He couldn't use the Force to hop there, and he supposed he couldn't hire a speeder because his Platinum Unlimited Line of Credit under Vader's name would wave a giant flag at Palpasnoopy.
Well, it couldn't be any farther than wandering around the Executor or hiking on Yavin. Although there hadn't been people running and random fighters shooting at either of those places. Still, he'd survived a bombing on the Executor and criminals on Yavin, so hard could it be? Maybe he could hitch a ride.
Or he'd simply do what he'd done most of his life, before he knew what the Force was and how to use it: Walk.
Colonel Rex
Rex was certain that he knew Anakin Skywalker (and Darth Vader) better than any of the few officers grouped around the strategy screen. He'd been with the General since the Clone Wars, when he himself was known as Captain Rex. Now he'd been promoted to Colonel Rex in this loosely-formed militia that his General had created.
His loyalty to his General had lasted through seventeen years of the Dark Lord's actions because he'd trusted Skywalker-Vader as Skywalker had always trusted him. He was certain that there was a long game in his General's plans, and he'd watched with hope at the changes as Vader had distanced himself further and further outside the boundaries where the Emperor had confined him. In the last couple years, the Sith had changed noticeably. He was still driven by invisible internal conflicts that Rex didn't understand but knew existed, but Vader no longer perpetrated random acts of violence. He was focused on a goal, some purpose that overrode everything else, even his determination to destroy the last remnants of the Rebel Alliance… which they now, apparently, had joined.
Whatever the cause, Rex's faith never wavered, and the news of the public declaration of Anakin Skywalker's resurrection had nearly brought tears of relief to his eyes.
Now he was in the center of the plot. He was positive that his General knew what he was doing. Still, the revelation that he planned on confronting Palpatine personally, along with his unnamed and yet-unmet 'associate' was unnerving to say the least. He'd seen enough of Vader to know that Sith were extremely dangerous and unpredictable, even more so when angry, and since Vader had been chafing under the Emperor's command for nearly two decades, his victory might come at a high cost for all of them.
He could see that Skywalker's patience with the others' questions was growing thin. His General had always been a man of action and, though his tactical skills were second to none, today he seemed anxious to be done with the planning. He'd raced into the fortress, a Rebel commander in tow, snapping directions and issuing commands, quickly addressing those who weren't already briefed about the galaxy-wide uprising he'd created. And now he was shifting anxiously, unable to stay still, his face set in the solid determination that Rex had always admired. His General was –
Skywalker froze, his eyes locked on the door to their tactical room. Involuntarily, Rex reached for his weapon, but his General waved him down, a small smile curving his lips. The man was motionless, and an eerie calmness surrounded him. It reminded Rex of those moments of Jedi meditation during the War that had come out of nowhere and always foretold a sudden change in strategy or an attack, so he braced himself for whatever was about to happen.
The door opened. Two 501st troopers appeared with a small figure marching between them. He couldn't determine its sex or age or even its species, because it was completely wrapped in a dust-colored cloth that was spotted with scorch marks indicating burning embers had singed it.
"Report, Trooper!" Rex snapped.
"He flagged us down." The soldier tilted his head. "He's wearing this, sir," he said, as though that explained everything.
Which it did when the small human hand found a place to escape the cloak and reveal a familiar 501 bracelet that was given exclusively to operatives. General Skywalker nodded and gestured the troopers away. The little figure stood still for a moment, then began trying to unwrap itself.
"Geez!" it exclaimed as it turned in a circle, struggling to free itself from the tangle of what appeared to be an extremely long cloth. Elbows and head poked bumps in the material, and it looked like a butterfly trying to break free of a cocoon.
The voice was unexpectedly young and possibly male, and Rex raised his eyebrows. Beside him, the Rebel commander - Narra? - sighed slightly. "It's like a chick trying to break out of an egg," he whispered.
That was uncomfortably close to his thought, and Rex wondered if the Rebel was a Force adept and that's why Skywalker had brought him along. He wasn't altogether comfortable about that possibility.
The youngster kept fighting with the fabric and revolving, unwrapping himself like a gift. General Skywalker said nothing during this process, but watched with folded arms. Eventually a long trail of tan wool puddled on the floor and revealed that beneath it was a black hooded robe that reminded Rex of Darth Vader.
The robe was whirled in the air, reversed, and redraped on the short figure. Now it sparkled like expensive costumes Rex had only seen in live-performance entertainment. Beneath it was armor similar in design and components to his General's.
"Geez," the boy said again, for indeed it was a boy, blonde and teenaged, "I mean - oh." He spotted the other officers and straightened, thumping his fist on his chest in what Rex supposed was some sort of salute. "Your Generalship! I bring greetings straight from the Imperial Palace and a message straight out of the decaying mouth of His Exalted Wrinkledness, Emperor Palpapapadapalous!"
Rebel Narra pretended to cough. All Rex wanted to do was remember this opening barrage of words so he could repeat them to his remaining brothers.
General Skywalker frowned. "And that message is…?"
"Aaaaannnnndddddd…drum roll!...da-da-da-DAA! Umm…. Okay! He's miffed that you're destroying his empire and trying to kill him… after all he's done for you!"
"I see." His General waited a few seconds. "Is that it?"
The youth uttered a loud, dramatic moan. "Is that IT? I bring the message all this way and - Do you know how far this is from the Palace? I walked! I thought I'd never get here! Okay, I had one boat ride because I couldn't walk across the ocean and a family thought I looked lost and pathetic and let me ride with them! Other than that, I walked!"
There was clear accusation in the tone, and Rex risked a glance at his General whose face showed nothing of whatever he was thinking. "Walked? Why? And why are you here?"
"Well, I'm glad to see you too!" The boy pouted. "I pivoted! I had to! He threw me out a window! So I'm here!"
Commander Narra laughed nervously, then added, "Sorry, that's not funny. You're not hurt, are you?"
Rex narrowed his eyes. Why did this Rebel know someone that he had never met? And for that matter, why did a Rebel commander know an Imperial operative?
"Nah. Well… maybe a little bruised, but nothing's broken."
"You're bruised? He threw you out a window?" Skywalker dragged the questions very slowly and with open displeasure as if they were the most disturbing words he'd ever heard.
"Are you going to repeat everything I say?" The boy suddenly smiled, and it was a sweet contrast to his sassy responses. "From a really high tower! And it wasn't easy getting to the ground! Especially since I didn't want to use the Force. But I finally had to, but I don't know how I got it back and kept it even when he tried to stop me!"
"When the need is great, you can overcome anything."
The boy blinked. "Oh. Okay, lesson learned, thanks. Anyway, stop interrupting! I had to find it because he was trying to pull me back up and I didn't want to go back because he also choked me - twice!" The head ducked, and big eyes widened pitifully at Skywalker. "But I didn't want him to use the Force to find me, so I didn't use it again and I walked the whole entire way -"
"You've already said that."
The boy rolled his eyes. "- and there were fires and explosions and I almost got knocked down a couple times, but you know me, I'm nimble and I excel in gymnastics and I jumped over all sorts of stuff because -" The words halted when Skywalker approached and stopped directly in front of the youth, his gloved fingers lifting the youngster's chin.
"Because you wanted to worry me into a heart attack?"
"Eww. Not with your new…." The youngster frowned. "No, 'cause I knew you'd be worried. Don't pretend you weren't."
Another pause, then his General wrapped his arms around the boy and gave him a tight squeeze that the youngster returned with enthusiasm. The tension in the room eased. Narra sighed again. Rex didn't bother to look at him. So the rumors were true. The Force, the child - this was Anakin's son. He was smaller than expected, but Rex would have recognized those cool blue eyes anywhere. As for his height - that was Padmé Amidala's legacy.
"You're so short," the boy said in a whisper that Rex nearly missed.
"And you're so… Luke," his General responded.
"Thanks, I've been practicing on Palpapuss."
"Of course you have. Now tell me, why did he throw you out a window? Is that when you shrieked at me for help? And what window?"
"I didn't shriek!" Luke wrinkled his nose. "The one in that round room at the top of that really, really high tower. The highest one!"
"The Pinnacle Room?" Skywalker groaned. "Great Sith, you could have been killed!"
"But I wasn't." Luke peered around the General's shoulder. "Aren't you going to introduce me to everyone?"
"This is my son Luke," Skywalker said shortly, then: "You're avoiding my other question. Exactly why did he throw you out a window?"
"And choked me twice," the youngster reminded, then cleared his throat. "Well… okay… I kinda sorta accidentally told him…. Well, he said I was weak and that you were disappointed in me! I got mad, okay? I know you can relate to that!"
"Luke."
The son stepped back and jammed his fists on his hips, and Rex recognized the father in the stance. "Fine! I accidentally told him that I blew up his you-know-what. I know!" he added quickly as though he assumed he would be interrupted. "We were supposed to save it and spring it on him, but it just came out! I couldn't help it! Oh, hi, Sir!" he chirped at Narra. "Are the guys here too?"
"Just me," the Rebel answered. "They're - "
"They're flying around! I heard the x-wings! Hey, Dad, did you take Wedge's x-wing? I'll bet you did because I imbued it! And we'd better not be bombing the city! People are getting hurt! There's, like, missiles and stuff!"
"We're not. There are no, like, missiles… so far. It's debris from the few defense force fighters that aren't ready to surrender. They, like, make a mess when they fall."
His General grinned and Rex covered his own mouth to hide his smile. This kid was an amped-up version of Ahsoka, and he was pleased to see his General showing both patience and affection, two emotions he had sometimes struggled with in the old days.
"Okay, fine, I get the message, no more likes! Anyway, I'm sorry, I screwed up. But I didn't say anything about you. Or the earlier… you know. So we can still surprise him. But I'm sorry."
"It's fine, my son. You pivoted. I understand." Skywalker led the boy to the strategy screen. "Let me introduce you properly, and you can review our final plan."
"Final?" Luke repeated with a cheeky grin. "Sure, I'll believe that when it happens! But Dad…." One hand latched on his General's forearm, and the young face turned serious. "On my way here, I was thinking about it and… for the sake of our plan, I have to go back to him."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do!" his General scolded fiercely.
Luke winked at the others. "Everybody heard him say that, right?" He added a questioning glance at Rex.
"Sorry, sir, my hearing isn't what it used to be. Age, you know."
His General smiled faintly before turning back to his son. "I don't want you to go back."
"I know. Me neither. But I was keeping him distracted, and I have to keep doing it. I'll go back into the city and let him track me down. Our plan won't work if he thinks I'm a serious threat. Right now he thinks I'm a challenge because I'm erratic and undisciplined and maybe a little… um… flighty." Luke huffed indignantly. "I'm not!"
"Ah." His General's mouth quirked. "Then why would he think such a thing?"
"I don't…. Well, I told you I want to be an actor!"
"This is certainly the role of a lifetime," Commander Narra observed, and both Skywalkers looked at him.
"Indeed it is, Commander," Luke said loftily, in tones so similar to what his General would use that Rex nearly laughed.
Nearly.
He moved slightly to make room for young Skywalker in front of the screen.
"Hello, sir," the boy said, thrusting out his hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you. I'm Luke Skywalker. Are you one of the troopers who's been with my dad since the Clone Wars? I know, I know - it wasn't fair that they named it after you!"
Rex grinned, and took the surprisingly strong grip. "Yes, I am, and I agree. It's a pleasure to meet you in person. I've heard rumors."
"Don't believe all of them," Narra said lightly. "He's not quite as 'flighty' as he seems."
"That's a relief."
"Notice that I said 'not quite'."
"So funny you are!" Young Skywalker faked a glare that immediately morphed into a sunny smile. Rex had a feeling that his life was going to become even more interesting - and undoubtedly more chaotic - with the Son of Skywalker around.
