Sorry about the tremendous wait! Enjoy! --Tarado





The ornate, oversized throne seemed almost out of place where it had been perched, like a decorator's nightmare, at the end of a narrow, carpeted conference room. It was clear the act of making a "throne room" on the CONQUERER had been a spontaneous decision made in the alarming realization that the greatly feared leader of the Empire was going to make an appearance too soon to prepare anything better. The room was thoroughly unfitting of the Emperor's grand, imposing style, but it seemed something Palpatine had decided to overlook.momentarily.

Mara Jade knelt in front of the monstrous chair, gazing at the floral patterns in the Veletian carpet and trying not to feel the heat of her master's gaze on her bowed head.

"You may rise, my young Hand," the ruler said, his voice like sandpaper and gravel on her ears. Mara obeyed and stood up. The Emperor's dark silhouette was all her dazzled eyes could see, owing to the brightness of the Mascaggani's orb shining through the viewports, but she tried to remain attentive and focus her gaze on where she was pretty sure she could see Palpatine's yellow eyes peering out from the cowl of his black robe. "Bring Luke Skywalker to me," he ordered. "Immediately."



*****

"You ready, sweetheart?" Han asked, glancing back at Leia, seated behind him in the cockpit of the FALCON as he reached for the hyperspace levers. She gave him a distracted smile and nodded, while, seated in the copilot's chair, Chewie barked his own two cents. "Then it's show time," Solo grinned, watching the counter tick to zero and then dramatically pulling back the levers.

Star-lines shrank into singular gleams, the large sphere of the planet occupying much of the view. On either side of the FALCON, their 'escort' ships emerged in tandem from hyperspace: An X-wing to their left and an A- wing on the right. They presented the typical stereotype of the Alliance's hodgepodge resources, Leia thought with a grimace. Not a very good way to make a good impression on people from whom you desperately needed help, but it had been all Rieekan had been able to spare. He had made sure, though, that the FALCON was escorted by the best two pilots that they had.

"Quiet neighborhood," Han commented, cautiously bringing the ship in and toggling the com switch. "Antilles? Celchu?" he called to the escorts. "How's it look?"

"Like a graveyard, boss," Wedge responded. "No threats that I can see."

"That's the way we like it. But, keep your eyes open." He thumbed the switch again. "Okay, let's wake them up, huh?" He threw a grin back at Leia. "I brought all my fake IDs just for the occasion."

"Good to know you're prepared, GENERAL," she smirked. In some ways, Han would never outgrow his overly cautious smuggler habits. "But I'm pretty sure they're not going to blast us out of the sky."

"Hey," Solo defended himself, "We still don't know what's going on here, but I'd prefer not to make ourselves sitting targets until we learn just what kind of people we are dealing with."

He touched several switches and leaned forward to the speaker. "Mascaggani control, this is the FALCON STAR, requesting permission to land."



****

Mara strode purposefully down the cold metal corridors of the Star Destroyer to stop in front of Luke Skywalker's quarters. "I have orders that Skywalker is to come with me," she informed the two faceless stormtrooper guards coolly.

With slightly befuddled nods, they stepped out of her way, their blank-eyed helmets watching her key the door open with a quiet hiss. She quickly entered and shut the door behind her, her eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim lighting of the room.

"Skywalker?" she called into the darkness. The room appeared empty, but she knew better. Mara drew her small, compact blaster from its holster in her sleeve in case the Jedi was foolish enough to try anything.

A small table, with two black nerf-leather chairs tucked neatly underneath, held a tray bearing the last meal that had been delivered to him. It had the gray, congealed appearance of food cooked in some of the Empire's most infamous cafeterias, made all the worse by the fact that it was now stone cold. It still bore a pathetic little leaf for garnish, and the silverware lay undisturbed beside it, completely untouched by the room's occupant. Mara wrinkled her nose in disgust, advancing further into the poorly lit room.

Rounding a corner, she made out his darkened silhouette lying motionlessly on the bed, facing away from her.

"Skywalker," she came forward and nudged his shoulder with the tip of her blaster. "You asleep?"

For a moment he didn't respond. When she jabbed him again with the weapon, his quiet voice said irritably, "No I'm not asleep." He turned wearily to face her, his features pale and strained. His blue eyes were dark with shadow and full of dread. They regarded her almost as if she wasn't there. "What do you want?"

Mara took a surprised step back at seeing his expression, her raised blaster dropping forgotten to her side. "The Emperor wants to see you."

For a moment he didn't move, didn't act as if he'd heard her. As she opened her mouth to repeat the order, a nauseating wave of horror suddenly emanated from him, washing over her with staggering force. Instinctively, Mara snapped up her barriers and mentally shook free of his dark fear, wondering what had just happened. Didn't the Jedi tout the philosophy that fear was of the dark side? Then why would this upstart, optimistic Jedi wannabe be so obviously terrified? She frowned. What was going on?

As she watched him slowly get to his feet, an abrupt surge of sympathetic emotion welled in her throat. Mara shook her head in disgust at herself. She could not possibly be feeling sorry for him-this tenth-rate farm boy who'd humiliated her in front of her master, and reduced her credibility in Palpatine's eyes.

She nudged the Jedi in the back with her blaster. Silently, he plodded ahead, seemingly too preoccupied to be annoyed with her. Mara shut her eyes and pushed the questions out of her mind. Whatever was bothering Skywalker was his problem. She had a job to do.

*****



As the doors of the throne room hissed open, a flood of blinding bluish light shining eerily through the viewports assaulted Mara's eyes. The bulky, oversized throne spun slowly around while the towering silhouette of Darth Vader turned to regard them, his steady, hissing breathing completing the ominous foreboding feeling that pervaded the room.

"It's good of you to join us, my young apprentice," the Emperor welcomed the Jedi at the front of her blaster. His cold, sarcastic tone mocked the hospitable words. "By all means, bring him closer, Jade."

Mara quickly acquiesced and with a small nudge from the blaster, Skywalker numbly complied.

Palpatine chuckled as they approached. "I'm sure it would interest you to know," he began, leaving no doubt with anyone that it was to Skywalker he addressed his words, "that we are heading toward the western hemisphere of this planet as we speak, to meet some people you, doubtless, are acquainted with." There was no response from the Jedi, who tried to keep his expression blank and impassive as he concentrated his gaze on the hypnotizing swirling blue beyond the room. Palpatine just laughed.

"So at last," he proclaimed, "we shall meet with this ever-elusive sibling of yours." Another chuckle. "Interesting to note that if you had not reacted as violently to detecting her presence so close by, I might have missed her altogether. She would have slipped away." He smiled. "But thanks to you."

Mara did not think Skywalker's pale features could have gotten any whiter, but she was wrong. The Emperor laughed again, seeing his taunt had found its mark.

"You must be commended, though," he went on conversationally, "for being so unwilling to put her in danger that you would hide your presence from her." He cocked his head up at the Dark Lord. "I must say, Lord Vader, when we can keep his stubbornness at bay, your son is a remarkably quick learner." His goading smile turned on the Jedi once more. "But I've always known that the Skywalker will can be easily overridden when given the proper.incentive."

*******

"Looks like nobody's home," Han muttered mostly to himself, shaking his head and thinking of a few choice names to call the innocent com unit in front of him. He turned back to Leia, eyebrows raised. "Do you have any suggestions, Madame Negotiator? How long do we camp out in this system waiting for someone to notice us?"

A thoughtful frown creased Leia's porcelain features, and she shook her dark head. "I don't really know," she admitted. "Maybe we should just take a chance and land without permission."

"And risk shooting these negotiations in the foot?" Han asked. "That doesn't sound like a move of yours, princess."

"I seem to recall you would prefer a fair fight to all this sneaking around," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but that was before they made me a general in this cause of yours."

"Yes, it does seem that you are getting soft," Leia agreed. "Well, keep trying."

Solo grunted, toggling the switch again. "Traffic control, this is the FALCON STAR, and we are requesting permission to land." The familiar burst of empty static was the only thing that answered his call.

"Solo," Wedge's voice suddenly interjected over the speakers. "We have a ship coming in from nightside, bearing 5260023."

Han's eyes were instantly skimming over his displays, and with a stomach knotting in dread, he identified the ship, just as Tycho's voice grimly confirmed it.

"It's a Star Destroyer."

Chewie barked an unintelligible protest and Han, muttering a curse under his breath, slapped several switches. "That's it," he called to their two escorting fighters. Sluggishly, the FALCON began to move. "Set course for hyperspace now. We're getting out of here."

******

The throne room was silent, waiting. Mara watched the other three occupants of the room, staring expectantly out the viewports, and wondered vaguely what was going on. She squinted to make out the objects that the Star Destroyer seemed to be bearing down on, and a moment later, could discern them as three separate ships.

Palpatine lifted his hand dramatically, a small smile playing across his face. "Here they are." The spacecraft, looking a little bewildered at suddenly being pursued by a Star Destroyer, did not seem to react right away as several squadrons of black, insect-like TIE fighters began to converge on them. But with unexpected speed, the three ships abruptly scattered, waves of fighters in hot pursuit.

Sweeping closer into view, executing suicidal spins in an effort to shake its pursuers, Mara finally saw and recognized the main ship and it was definitely familiar to her. She'd studied the MILLENIUM FALCON inside and out, knew its capabilities and most of its modifications. It had only been a small part of her intense research of her assigned project: know everything about the Jedi she had been ordered to kill.

Standing next to Vader, his back to Mara, Skywalker stiffened visibly, seeing the ship that doubtlessly contained his friends.

The sight in front of them was suddenly a sea of red and green laser blasts amidst the flurry of black ships.

"Do you see how easily and quickly I can have these friends of yours in my complete control if it is my wish?" Palpatine commented offhandedly.

Skywalker saw, all right, Mara noted, observing the Jedi's formerly strained expression give way to something deeper and more pained. He did not answer, gazing as if lost in the storm of the battle.

And indeed, reflected the Emperor's Hand, perhaps he was.

******

While the FALCON might not have had the ability to outrun a Star Destroyer, its maneuvering capabilities had been proven before. Still, Leia gritted her teeth, fingernails digging into the soft back of Han's seat as the ship's internal gravity compensator did not quite account for the latest tight roll its pilot threw it into.

"Chewie, do you have those coordinates ready yet?" Solo gritted as the ship shot through a horde of oncoming fighters. A blast struck the top right side of the FALCON, making the freighter lurch sideways and its occupants scramble to stay upright.

Chewbacca growled something Leia didn't quite catch, and then in a snappy tone, Han yelled something at his copilot. Suddenly, the edges of her vision went fuzzy and her hearing dimmed. Leia did not hear or notice anything going on around her, but floating up before her eyes was an unmistakable picture of her brother.

Luke was staring at her-or rather, through her, his hair dark and disheveled, his shoulders hunched, taut worry lines around his boyish mouth that she remembered was always so quick to smile. But the thing that cut her to the heart was the wrenching, vulnerable pain in his tired, faded blue eyes. Instinctively, she cried out for him, before the scene shredded in front of her, returning to the cockpit of the FALCON and the crazed battle they had been immersed in.

"You all right, sweetheart?" Han called back to her without taking his eyes of his flying. "Weren't worried about me not being able to make that turn, were you?"

There was a sudden lump that formed in her throat, and she could not answer. The abrupt gut-wrenching drop Han took the ship into then spared her from doing so.

******

"The choice is yours, my young apprentice," Palpatine said slowly, watching Skywalker closely, a small, belittling smile of his face. "You can once again refuse to serve me, and witness the capture of your friends, hereafter letting them be at the mercy of my wrath; or you can set them free. The decision is entirely up to you."

The Jedi had not spoken a word since he had entered the throne room, but now, settling his tormented eyes directly on Palpatine's, his breathing was audible from where Mara stood. He looked ready to swoon. In a voice she hardly recognized, his eyes bearing full knowledge of what he was saying, Skywalker whispered dejectedly, "What do I have to do?"

The Emperor's triumphant glee was almost palpable, a sickly smile settling over his face. "Do everything I order you to do, my young Jedi. I want nothing from them so long as you obey me. Do these things and I shall let them go."

Skywalker's shoulders slumped in defeat and surrender, finally broken.

The Emperor's hideous laughter reverberated throughout the room, and Mara looked on, supposing she should feel triumph in her crushing revenge over Skywalker, but inside she felt only a hollow and sympathetic pain.

******

"All right, let's get out of here on my mark," Solo's tinny voice spoke into Tycho's headset.

The pilot barked a distracted affirmative, quickly picking off two more TIEs who had the tenacious gall to keep pursuing him. Their third friend proved tricky enough, getting off a lucky shot before he too was turned into space-dust.

The TIE's shot had damaged something rather important, Tycho determined by the angry red flashing diagnostics scrolling up that he did not have time to read. But the Rebel decided to deal with it later as there were several more Imperials screaming toward him in pursuit.

The coordinates for the hyperspace jump scrolled up on his screen, and there were a couple more unintelligible words from Solo before both the freighter and the X-wing disappeared into the safety of hyperspace. Tycho wasted no time and did not spare his assailants a look back as he pulled back his own hyperspace levers, expecting to hear the familiar whine and see the streaking stars in front of him.

Nothing happened.

In audible surprise, the Alderaanian pulled them back again, but to no avail. The hyperdrive was dead. So that was what had been damaged, he realized belatedly, suddenly noting the closing proximity of the other pursuing fighters. It looked as though he was going to have to outrun them.

Kicking the A-wing into gear, he dropped the ship into a low dive toward the planet's surface. He had a better chance of losing these blasted Imperials if he had a little camouflage to back him up.

Most of Mascaggani was a very rough, rocky terrain, which, Tycho supposed, would provide just as good concealment as anything, provided he fly low enough. The ship pitched forward from another good hit, but he brought the fighter under control and took it down as close to the surface as he dared. Large, jagged boulders loomed, a small smattering of trees accentuating the deserted landscape.

He counted six ships still tight on his tail, and knew he would have to lose them. Eyes searching for any canyons or deep ravines he could make suicidal dives through, Tycho winced as his fighter shuddered violently with another scoring hit.

Moments later, he realized his very serious trouble as several lights in the cockpit flashed red and then dimmed completely. The small fighter was now obviously losing altitude. Angry red diagnostics scrolled up on his small screen, but it was too late to do anything about them now.

Tycho Celchu only had time to give a slight grimace to the rapidly approaching terrain before the A-wing crashed to the ground.