Leia was more correct than she would have liked.
Han wasn't merely unhappy about the plan- he was plain pissed.
"Look-" She tried to explain herself for the third time.
"How do you even know it was HIM you were talking to?" Han demanded.
She sighed. "I told you already- I just know."
"Gee, that's convincing, Sweetheart."
"Just trust me- ok? For Luke?"
Han stopped his ranting and simply stared at her.
"Ah hell, you and the Kid and your damned hocus pocus," He mumbled.
Leia flew into his arms. "You won't regret it," she assured him with a smile.
"Yeah? Well, I still have a bad feeling about this."
~
Mon Mothma dragged her hands over her face. They'd had more than a few deserters in the last evacuation, but the disappearance of Leia had been more than she was ready to handle.
Two Alliance figureheads- gone.
One, Vader's son. The other, gone to save him- most likely.
Mothma milled over Leia's words for the hundredth time- "It is already lost."
Was it true? Were the last several years of planning the Empire's demise for naught?
No. She simply could not accept that.
She looked up at Madine wearily, "Damage report, General."
"Pardon?" Madine regarded her in confusion.
"How many have we lost?" She clarified.
"Oh. Um, well, we-"
"That bad- huh?"
"Yeah."
Well, Mothma thought to herself, when backed into a corner- one must fight their way out like a firecat, and if Mothma knew Leia like she thought she did- that's exactly what she'd do.
She pressed her lips together.
"Well, General, what DO we have?"
Madine gently tapped his datapad.
"Thirty men- roughly."
Mothma twisted her face in thought, "Perfect."
The man across from her sat up in shock.
"What?"
"A perfect number for a strike team."
"Strike team? Strike team for what?"
She stood; a new determination flowed through her.
"General, set course for Coruscant."
The bridge fell deathly quiet.
She smiled, deciding to answer the unasked question, "We're getting our Jedi back."
~
Vader sat silently at the dinning room table as Luke emerged from the fresher, rubbing his hair with a towel.
"Good Morning."
Vader didn't reply.
Luke paused, towel arm falling to his side.
"You alright?"
Only the hiss of Vader's respirator answered him.
Luke shifted uncomfortably, waiting for his father's convenience.
The silence was stifling, drawn out for several minuets.
"What have you done?" Vader finally growled.
Luke took a step back as Vader stood, advancing upon him.
"Wha-? I don-" His back hit the bulkhead.
"Who did you speak to last night?" The dark giant demanded, leaning over him.
Luke tried to focus on Vader's boots, but a leather-clad finger prevented him, slowly pushing his chin up until the back of his head met the wall.
The two sets of eyes stared, inches apart.
"Tell me-" Ebony mask hissed.
"Lapsing back into 'malicious Sith Lord' mode?" Luke spat, without thought.
He found his face slammed into the steel wall before he realized what was happening. Dazed, he raised his prosthetic hand to his nose and looked down at his red fingertips. He swore softly, stumbling away from his dark father- who was now reaching for him.
"Luke-Luke, I'm sorry."
Luke continued to back away.
"No, don't. Just- just, stay away from me."
Vader slowly clenched his outstretched hand.
"Please- Son."
"Don't call me that!" The younger man screamed, nearly choking on the blood that had begun seeping down his throat.
Luke shook his head. "I should have known better-how could I be so blind?"
"Luke, don't talk like that." Vader could hardly comprehend his own words, was he actually pleading with his son?
"I should have known better than to trust you!" Luke repeated-louder, stronger.
No. He and his son had formed a halfway normal relationship last night-and now-now that was all falling apart.
Suddenly, the small table next to Vader burst into a hailstorm of wooden splinters. Vader was showered in the gaifda wood firework display.
Stunned, Luke fell against the wall.
Now I've done it, thought Vader in disgust, had I not alienated him before- he'll certainly want nothing to do with me now-
And then Vader's mind caught up.
He wasn't THAT angry.
But his son was.
He slowly turned to regard his breathless son, propped against the wall, surveying the damage in wide-eyed understanding.
"No-" The fallen Jedi whispered.
Despite the fear in his son's eyes, Vader couldn't help but smile.
[This chapter is soooo short it's pathetic! But hey, it's something! Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming-please tell me what you like- but more importantly, what you DON'T like!]
Han wasn't merely unhappy about the plan- he was plain pissed.
"Look-" She tried to explain herself for the third time.
"How do you even know it was HIM you were talking to?" Han demanded.
She sighed. "I told you already- I just know."
"Gee, that's convincing, Sweetheart."
"Just trust me- ok? For Luke?"
Han stopped his ranting and simply stared at her.
"Ah hell, you and the Kid and your damned hocus pocus," He mumbled.
Leia flew into his arms. "You won't regret it," she assured him with a smile.
"Yeah? Well, I still have a bad feeling about this."
~
Mon Mothma dragged her hands over her face. They'd had more than a few deserters in the last evacuation, but the disappearance of Leia had been more than she was ready to handle.
Two Alliance figureheads- gone.
One, Vader's son. The other, gone to save him- most likely.
Mothma milled over Leia's words for the hundredth time- "It is already lost."
Was it true? Were the last several years of planning the Empire's demise for naught?
No. She simply could not accept that.
She looked up at Madine wearily, "Damage report, General."
"Pardon?" Madine regarded her in confusion.
"How many have we lost?" She clarified.
"Oh. Um, well, we-"
"That bad- huh?"
"Yeah."
Well, Mothma thought to herself, when backed into a corner- one must fight their way out like a firecat, and if Mothma knew Leia like she thought she did- that's exactly what she'd do.
She pressed her lips together.
"Well, General, what DO we have?"
Madine gently tapped his datapad.
"Thirty men- roughly."
Mothma twisted her face in thought, "Perfect."
The man across from her sat up in shock.
"What?"
"A perfect number for a strike team."
"Strike team? Strike team for what?"
She stood; a new determination flowed through her.
"General, set course for Coruscant."
The bridge fell deathly quiet.
She smiled, deciding to answer the unasked question, "We're getting our Jedi back."
~
Vader sat silently at the dinning room table as Luke emerged from the fresher, rubbing his hair with a towel.
"Good Morning."
Vader didn't reply.
Luke paused, towel arm falling to his side.
"You alright?"
Only the hiss of Vader's respirator answered him.
Luke shifted uncomfortably, waiting for his father's convenience.
The silence was stifling, drawn out for several minuets.
"What have you done?" Vader finally growled.
Luke took a step back as Vader stood, advancing upon him.
"Wha-? I don-" His back hit the bulkhead.
"Who did you speak to last night?" The dark giant demanded, leaning over him.
Luke tried to focus on Vader's boots, but a leather-clad finger prevented him, slowly pushing his chin up until the back of his head met the wall.
The two sets of eyes stared, inches apart.
"Tell me-" Ebony mask hissed.
"Lapsing back into 'malicious Sith Lord' mode?" Luke spat, without thought.
He found his face slammed into the steel wall before he realized what was happening. Dazed, he raised his prosthetic hand to his nose and looked down at his red fingertips. He swore softly, stumbling away from his dark father- who was now reaching for him.
"Luke-Luke, I'm sorry."
Luke continued to back away.
"No, don't. Just- just, stay away from me."
Vader slowly clenched his outstretched hand.
"Please- Son."
"Don't call me that!" The younger man screamed, nearly choking on the blood that had begun seeping down his throat.
Luke shook his head. "I should have known better-how could I be so blind?"
"Luke, don't talk like that." Vader could hardly comprehend his own words, was he actually pleading with his son?
"I should have known better than to trust you!" Luke repeated-louder, stronger.
No. He and his son had formed a halfway normal relationship last night-and now-now that was all falling apart.
Suddenly, the small table next to Vader burst into a hailstorm of wooden splinters. Vader was showered in the gaifda wood firework display.
Stunned, Luke fell against the wall.
Now I've done it, thought Vader in disgust, had I not alienated him before- he'll certainly want nothing to do with me now-
And then Vader's mind caught up.
He wasn't THAT angry.
But his son was.
He slowly turned to regard his breathless son, propped against the wall, surveying the damage in wide-eyed understanding.
"No-" The fallen Jedi whispered.
Despite the fear in his son's eyes, Vader couldn't help but smile.
[This chapter is soooo short it's pathetic! But hey, it's something! Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming-please tell me what you like- but more importantly, what you DON'T like!]
