Bright sunlight assaulted Luke's face. For a minute, he thought he was back in his bed on Tatooine, late to help Uncle Owen on the South Ridge and about to catch all Nine Corellian Hells for it. A cleared throat and an uttered, "Ahem," told him otherwise. He forced his eyes open and saw Looma, standing at the foot of the bed with an enormous tray covered with all sorts of platters and dishes.
"'Allo," Looma said. Luke sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and Looma put the tray down. It reached across the width of the bed, which was practically big enough to hold a dewback.
"I proudly present to you…your breakfast," Looma said, with a bow. "Try the grey stuff, it's delicious."
Luke had no idea which dish held the grey stuff. He grabbed a piece of ryshcate and looked around the room, getting his first real look at his surroundings.
He was in a bedroom, that much was apparent. A very luxurious and beautifully appointed bedroom. The mattress was softer than anything he had ever encountered – ever imagined, for that matter. The bedclothes were of a finely woven red shimmersilk, while the pillows stayed cool to the touch. On the walls hung tapestries, like the ones he spotted in the hall downstairs. They appeared to be part of a series, telling a story about a man on an equine who fell in love with a woman trapped in a castle much like the one Luke was in. In the last tapestry, the man fought something that resembled a Krayt dragon to free her. Between the tapestries stood tall windows, the source of the sunlight that woke Luke.
"What am I doing here?" Luke asked. He had a sudden realization, and glanced under the covers to confirm it. "And may I have some clothes, please?"
"But of course," Looma said, throwing open a cupboard that stood in the far corner. "Help yourself. Be our guest." He pulled out a sky blue tunic and sand-colored trousers. "These will do nicely, n'est pas? The color, it will match your eyes and create the most wonderful impression." He clapped his hands together, his eyes shining.
"If you say so," Luke said, with a sideways glance. He couldn't think of a reason why he'd need to create an impression. Leia was long gone. Besides, he had started to think of Leia as a, well, sister just before Bespin. "And this room? Why aren't I in the dungeons?"
Looma dropped the clothes on the bed. "But the dungeons are nasty. This has already been established, no? Do you want to be in the dungeons?" He gave Luke a most most suspicious stare.
"No, of course not—"
Looma's expression cleared up. "Ah. Good. Because if you did, then you would not be wise. And you would not smell nice. It was bad enough that we 'ad to carry you in last night, like a drunk who stayed too late in the tavern." Looma turned another suspicious eye on Luke. "You do not drink, do you? You are not, as they say, a sot?"
A laugh escaped Luke. "I drink on occasion, but I am not a sot."
Looma relaxed again. "Then all is well. I would 'ate to have another unfortunate situation on our 'ands, like that 'orrible Gaston. He was definitely not the one."
Luke opened his mouth to ask a question, and then thought better of it. He looked around the impressive bedroom, at the tray laden with enormous quantities of food, and at the very nicely tailored garments. Whatever was going on, it was obvious he wasn't been treated as a hated prisoner. At least, not on the surface. "I'm going to get dressed, Looma."
"That is a marvelous idea." The tall slender man made as if to turn back the covers and help Luke out of the bed.
Luke grabbed the shimmersilk coverlet and kept it tucked tightly around him. "I mean by myself." A thought occurred to him. "Unless…you're my guard?"
Looma's eyes widened. "But no! I am your 'umble servant."
A servant? Luke spoke firmly. "I don't need a servant, Looma. But I wouldn't mind a guide to the rest of the castle. After I get dressed. Alone."
The rest of the castle was as impressive as Luke's bedroom. Room after room of expensive furniture and priceless artifacts and gleaming, golden surfaces or soft, feather filled appointments. If the Alliance could get its hands on the castle's contents, Luke thought, they'd never, ever have to worry about funding the Rebellion again.
Then his heart sank, for he was in the home of one of the Emperor's Beasts, and so all this wealth belonged to Palpatine.
Of the Beast, there was no sign. When he asked Looma, the slender man's face seemed to darken, like a flame suddenly cut off from oxygen. "The Beast, as you say…is otherwise engaged," was all Luke could get out of him. Then Looma's face brightened. "But there is always dinner. Yes, dinner might suit very well!"
Luke, having just sat through a lunch packed with twice as much food as breakfast, didn't want to think about another meal just then.
During their tour, Luke saw K'gworth from a distance, his moustache bristling and his back ramrod straight. But there was no sign of Pottz. He mentioned it to Looma, who looked at Luke with an unreadable expression in his eyes and shook his head. "Perhaps another day," he said quietly, and threw open another door. "And 'ere, we 'ave the….Blue Sitting Room!" Then he took a closer look. "Ah, no, my mistake. And 'ere, we 'ave the…Aquamarine Salon!" He shrugged. "We 'ave a lot of rooms."
"I can tell," Luke murmured. Late afternoon sunshine was beginning to stream through the windows, throwing long shadows against the walls. There was still a lot more castle to explore, but it already felt like a long day. He'd held at bay the loneliness and just plain homesickness that swept over him whenever he thought of Han, Leia and Chewie – even Threepio – but he didn't know if he could hold out against the growing sense of loss much longer. Time to meditate, perhaps. Step into the flow of the Force and let it wash over him, become one with him.
And perhaps the Force would tell him if he made the right bargain, or a very, very stupid and foolish one.
"I'd like to go back to my room," Luke said. "Rest up."
"But only until dinner, no?" Looma asked, his eyebrows raised high.
Luke sighed. Truthfully, although he did appreciate Looma's company, he was becoming a bit weary of his constant chatter. A quiet night had its appeal. But Looma looked so hopeful, Luke hated to disappoint him. "Dinner. Sure."
Halfway back to his room, Luke lost the trail and turned left. He started to climb a narrow, dusty staircase. Looma grabbed him, hard, and forced him back to the landing. "Never go to the North Tower," Looma said, his gaze glowing fiercely. "Never."
"Okay, okay," Luke said, taking a step back. He'd thought Looma was the easygoing type, but obviously the man had a deep inner fire. "It was an honest mistake. Continue leading on."
Looma relaxed, and resumed his usual inconsequential chatter. But Luke noted the location of the stairway, and added it to his mental map of the castle.
Emperor cackles pain terrible pain give into anger feel the aggression join me or die killer of millions what's a few billion more souls crying in agony despair so deep despair rage pick up your weapon give into hatred wait look hooded figure face in shadow gold eyes burn no not gold eyes green eyes flicker hope-
Luke sat up, gasping. He pushed hair matted with sweat off his forehead, his lungs taking in air as fast as he could provide it for them. The shadows still pressed at his mind, seeking to worm their way into his waking consciousness, but he reached down deep for what peace he could find and expelled them.
Usually meditation centered him, gave him strength and optimism. The Force was a source of beneficial energy and guidance. When he meditated, it felt like bathing in pure light.
But on this planet, and especially in this castle, that pureness eluded him. He didn't know if it had something to do with those strange bubbles in the Force, or the voices he heard in the dungeons, or the very presence of the Beast – but his usual harmonious connection was broken.
He rubbed his eyes and noticed that the bedroom was still and dark. The sun had long set, if the bright stars he could see through the window were any indication. His stomach rumbled, something Luke thought would be physically impossible after the earlier meals. How long did his meditation last?
"Looma?" he called.
No answer.
"Pottz?" he said hopefully.
Nothing.
"K'gworth?" he ventured after a few minutes.
Silence.
"Beast?"
His only answer was the sound of his own breathing, still raspy and erratic.
Luke rose from his seated position on the floor and walked to the door. It pushed open with the slightest touch. So he wasn't being locked in. Good. He stepped across the threshold, and almost ran into a tray cart piled high with various foodstuffs. Well, at least he wouldn't starve as a "guest" of the Beast, he thought.
A small datapad hung on the side of the cart. The note on its screen read, "You missed dinner. That was not very wise. Are you sure you are not a sot who sleeps all day? P.S. You really must try the grey stuff."
Luke gave a short laugh and pulled the cart inside the room. Great. He hoped when they continued their tour of castle, Looma would show him a gym. He needed some way to work off all this food. Especially since it seemed he had no companions to help him eat it.
And this was only day one.
Life in this strange castle was…lonely. And boring. Sure, he had nice clothes and luxurious surroundings and all the fine food he could eat. But it made his – what did Han call it? - provincial life on Tatooine look positively exciting. Back on his uncle's farm, he could always sneak away by claiming he had to pick up new power convertors. Then he'd use his T-16 to target womp rats.
And that was before he had a taste of flying X-Wings and rescuing princesses and blowing up space stations.
Okay, he could do without having a taste of the last one.
But that was also before he discovered the Force. And started his Jedi training. A training to which he had a responsibility.
It was true he promised the Beast not to escape.
But he didn't promise to stop advancing his Jedi skills. Or to stop the fight against the Empire. He couldn't allow the Emperor to let the Jedi become wholly extinct.
The Beast was the Emperor's agent. So taking out the Beast – assuming he could find a way to get past all that dark side power - would be fair play. And if the Beast were no longer around, then he would no longer be bound to his promise to stay here.
Right?
Well. Only from a certain point of view. And it wasn't a point of view with which Luke felt comfortable. It was a slippery moral slope, and not one he felt like sliding down.
Still, he wished he had his lightsaber. He could at least practice his katas to pass the time, not to mention burning off some of the food.
Perhaps the Beast would give it back to him?
And maybe Threepio would learn to speak in words of less than three syllables.
But…what if he recovered his lightsaber from wherever the Beast put it, and used it just for exercise. What would be the harm?
He didn't need to be Admiral Ackbar to know he was embarking on a very dangerous strategy. But desperate times, desperate measures, and all that. Besides, while something screamed at him to spare the Beast, his every instinct told him to use his time in the castle to find out anything and everything he could about the Emperor and his plans.
He nodded his head, once. He would look for his lightsaber. Which meant venturing into the Beast's lair, because he doubted the Beast would just leave weapons lying around the castle for him to stumble over.
And if he happened to discover information that would be useful to the Rebellion, well, so much the better. He'd worry about transmitting it to them later. As Leia said, first things first.
There was only place where that lair might be.
Luke crept out of his room, and made his way to the North Tower stairs.