Luke's senses slowly swam to consciousness. His head pounded and he reached out his hand for the glass of water Looma always put by his bedside. When his fingers encountered nothing but thin air, he snapped fully awake.
He wasn't in his giant four-poster bed hung with tapestries, but a narrow bunk set into a curved metal wall. So he wasn't in Home One's officer quarters, but at least he wasn't in the brig. His eyesight gradually adjusted to the dom light. Ah. He was in a recovery room in the medbay. Of course.
He was still wearing the clothes he arrived in. With a grunt, he swung his feet to the floor and stood up. The rush of blood to his head caused the ache to intensify. He ran through a few of the calming exercises taught to him by the Beast during their sparring matches, and the throbbing lessened. With the pain receding, he could concentrate and reach out with the Force.
A 2-1B droid was nearby, tending other patients. In fact, Home One still hummed with beings. He sensed their grim focus and determination as they moved swiftly about their tasks, preparing for the battle ahead. Good. So the strike team probably hadn't left yet. There was still time to return to the Beast.
He stretched, trying to wake his dormant muscles, and felt a twinge in his side he'd never noticed before. Strange. It was almost as if he had slept on something hard—of course. He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the cube he had picked up in the Beast's library. In all the confusion and haste of leaving Diswalt and arriving on Home One, he had forgotten all about it.
As he held it, the dark walls of the cube began to glow, casting an amber-purple light. It began to hum and its surface warmed, causing him to snatch his hand back. The cube remained where it was, floating in mid-air. "What are you?" he murmured under his breath, and then held his breath as a hologram of a young humanoid, his face wide and creamy white, appeared. He reminded Luke of Pottz, but he wore robes of an age now past. "Greetings. I am Chippcupp Clan Wedgewood-Lennox, but you may call me Chipp. I am the gatekeeper of this holocron. You have an inquiry for me?"
A holocon! Master Yoda had told him of them, before his training had been cut so short. They held Jedi lore, passed down almost since recorded history began. But supposedly the Emperor had used his Beasts to hunt down all Jedi artifacts and destroy them.
Luke remembered the Beast's library, the shelves of datapads and printed flimsiplast. And the repository of other polyhedral objects like this one. So the castle on Diswalt was indeed more than the Beast's lair – it was a treasure trove of artifacts that needed to be preserved. Now, more than ever, it was vital he stopped the strike team from destroying the castle – and stopped the Emperor, period.
Maybe this holocron might be the first step in doing both.
"Tell me about Diswalt and the castle where I found you," he commanded, and the hologram of Chipp began to speak.
The Beast stood in the entry hall to await her Master. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop trembling. She told herself to stop it. Her Master raised her to be strong and fierce, a cold-blooded killer laser-focused on the missions he handed to her. If she wanted to preserve her worthless life, she had to clear her mind of all doubts. She held her chin arrived. When he arrived, he would see she was a faithful servant, with no will but his; no desires save the ones he voiced.
But the lies didn't work. If she couldn't believe them, he certainly wouldn't. She only hoped Luke had successfully returned to his Rebel friends. "Please be safe," she whispered under her breath. "And stay far away."
"What was that, mistress?" Pottz's voice came from behind the Beast.
The Beast jumped. That was bad. Pottz shouldn't have startled her. She must really be on edge. "I thought I told you to stay—" she began as she turned around. Then she stopped at the right before her.
Pottz stood at the head of a battalion of White Workers. Each held a blaster in their armored hands. To their left, Lumiere grasped a rapier sword. As she glanced at him, he drew a "Z" in the air with the tip of the blade before returning it to upright and giving her a slight bow. "Vous et moi, ça ne changera pas," he she could respond, K'gworth bustled into view, handing out blaster cartridges to the White Workers."I found these tucked away in a locked closet in those miserable dungeons—"
"You went into dungeons?" the Beast managed to get out.
K'gworth stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. "For you, Mistress, anything." Then he turned back to the White Workers. "Now, defensive positions, everyone! As we rehearsed. Don't forget your programming!"
The Beast shook her head. "It's useless, you know. My Master sees all, knows all. Go back to your quarters and stay out of the way, as I commanded. And take the White Workers with you."
K'gworth, Looma and Pottz exchanged glances with each other. Then K'gworth shrugged. "If it is a fight he wants, we'll be ready for him."
The Beast opened up her mouth to retort. They had to understand the severity of the situation. She knew her life was forfeit in retaliation for her actions. There was no way her Master would overlook her inability to kill the Bothan who carried the stolen plans to the Stellar Peace II. But her servants – there was still hope for them. She didn't want their 'tronics dismantled, their animas removed. And he would do it. She'd seen him do more for lesser transgressions. "You must—"
Looma put his thin, golden-skinned hand on her arm. In his other hand he held a mirror. "Mistress, s'il vous plaît, take a look. What do you see?"
She saw a girl. A scared, frail girl. She managed a laugh. "If you thought to remind me just how mortal I am, Looma, I believe the Emperor will prove that to me soon enough."
"Non." Looma shook his head with blazing speed. "Look again."
She tried to thrust the mirror away. "We don't have time—" She stopped. Grabbing the mirror out of Looma's hands, she peered intensely at her reflection. Could it be? It wasn't a trick of the light? "My eyes. They're…green. Not yellow."
Pottz smiled at her. Tears sparkled at the edge of her own violet eyes. "The spell is breaking, mistress. The Emperor's time is at hand."
The Beast could scarcely breath. "That's a myth. A forbidden one."
"Nevertheless," K'gworth said, thrusting two blasters in his belt, "we stand with you today."
Before the Beast could tell them once more to leave her and find a place of safety, the sound of repulsors threatened to shatter their eardrums. The ground shook under their feet. And a dark, malicious voice echoed the Beast's mind. "Miss me, my pet Beast?" the Emperor sneered.
"He's here," she managed to choke out. And then all other thoughts were driven out of her brain as the Emperor viciously seized control. Using the dark sider of the Force, he compelled her limbs to march to the heavy front door and throw it open to greet him.