Wow! Now that was a lot of reviews! Thanks so much!
In reply to some of your comments...yes the Luke parts are probably much
more interesting than the H/L parts. This story IS about Luke, after all.
I hope the suspense is building up..and hints? Would I give hints? Nevah!
Enjoy!
***** ************
The Conquerer had come out of hyperspace on the dark side of Tangrenenarr, well out of range of the Rebels' primitive ground sensors and of the lazy circle of drifting tugboats the Rebellion had the nerve of referring to as battleships as they patrolled the immediate space around Alliance HQ. But they were close enough for Mara to see clearly the small planet, a mottled swirl of browns and blues, hanging serenely in space. Her eyes dropped to the detailed readouts on the console in front of her. The scanners had already charted the planet, and had pinpointed the exact location of the Rebel base along with any shield generators, nests of weapons installations or backup ships that might also be hidden neatly away.
She thought of the rag-tag force of Rebels, down on the surface, unaware of the coming attack, knowing they probably didn't have much of a chance against the collective might of the Imperial army. Once upon a time, this fact wouldn't have caused her to lose sleep, but now, the coming slaughter and the impending casualties kept returning to her mind with a twinge of.what? Guilt?
Mara quickly brushed the feeling away. Bad things happened to people that ended up on the wrong side of the war. There wasn't anything personal or amoral about standing in the background--doing her job--as the Emperor exterminated this seditious band of people who persisted in defying his power. Skywalker's talk of 'sides' was getting to her again.
"I believe it is time," the Emperor's voice broke her out of her reverie. Lost in her thoughts, Mara had almost forgotten that she stood next to Palpatine's large, ornate throne, the huge chamber no longer the scrappy collection of Star Destroyer odds and ends of a room hastily thrown together, but a full-fledged command center with its Emperor at the head. She quickly berated herself for her inattentiveness and forced herself to turn and look her Emperor in the eyes. Those eyes narrowed and she knew he could see right through her. "It's time," he repeated.
"Yes Master," she nodded. Vader stood motionless in the background, his stance unreadable, his expression hidden.
Palpatine leaned over the arm of his throne, casually flicking a switch. "Commander," he ordered, a gleeful smile playing on his lips. "Launch the first wave of the attack."
*********
Han Solo was striding so swiftly down the narrow corridor of the main Rebel bunker, that he almost kicked an oncoming mouse droid into the far wall. With a terrified squeal, the droid barely avoided being stepped on by the oblivious general as he barreled through.
"What are you talking about?" Solo demanded loudly into the small comlink gripped tightly in his fist. "We all know how many times those things malfunction--those perimeter fences are supposed to be guarded constantly."
There was a tinny, indignant reply and Han gritted his teeth. He was not having a very good day as it was, so this hotshot rebel had better know not to push it. "What are your boys doing? Sleeping on the job? Those things make more noise than a--What do you mean it's not your fault?" He snapped. "As their commander, you take responsibility for--" Another faint protest cut him off.
Han grit his teeth again, restraining several choice curses from escaping his lips. "I'll be right there," he growled, hoping his statement sounded more like a threat than a promise.
He lowered his hand to his side and reversed his course to stalk off in the direction of the speeders.
***********
Comforting words about resting and healing echoed cavernously in Luke's mind as he slowly climbed the long tunnel to wakefulness. His eyes stubbornly did not want to open, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. His tired, befuddled mind tried to make sense of the soft texture of a pillow against his bruised cheek, the weight of the blankets comfortingly holding him against the soft cloud that was a bed, the deep throb of machinery that was a gentle pulsating background sound. He felt like he was floating. His whole body felt numb. Numb was good, he reminded himself quickly. It meant there was no pain.
He had never been in a healing trance before.
Luke recalled groggily being sick with pain and despair as someone gently carried him to a bed days--weeks? Months?--before. That must have been a dream, of course. It was probably *all* a dream--the delirious fantasies of a tired, pain-wracked soul. He remembered crying out to someone-anyone-- and had been too miserable to be surprised when the comforting apparition of Ben Kenobi appeared like a mirage before his eyes.
*Rest. Heal.* The old man had instructed gently. *You will need your strength.*
The Jedi had cried that he did not want his strength. He did not want to see any more horror or be the cause of any more misery for anyone. All he wanted was to sink into oblivion and never wake up again.
During his training on Dagobah, he'd been instructed by Yoda in specific detail on how to go into a healing trance, but he'd never actually had the occasion to apply the skill. He'd had no idea if it would even work, and found he hardly cared if it did or not, but Kenobi's voice, calming, like a mantra, implored him simply to rest.
And now.Luke lifted his arm to the level of his eyes, seeing the tattered sleeve of his tunic, but that the abrasions underneath had healed. He felt stiff and slightly sore, but other than that, it did not really hurt to move. Encouraged, he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, sleep-bleary eyes cautiously taking in his surroundings with the vague dread of recognition.
He was in a small, but comfortably furnished room, a marked difference from the cold, damp cell he'd inhabited--albeit somewhat hazily--in the bowels of the Imperial palace. He recognized the dark outlines of several articles of furniture, and knew that the heavy, ornate drapes on the far wall shrouded the expansive viewport.
He was in his quarters on the Star Destroyer.
Luke turned his head from the window, grateful for the gloom of the shrouding curtains so that he did not have to see what was out there. He did not want to see a planet razed by fire and destruction. He did not want to stand helplessly by and watch as friends were annihilated before his very eyes.
Guilt and nausea churned his stomach. Forcefully, Luke choked it down. He felt dizzy as his still-booted feet brushed the soft pile carpet of the floor.
He could feel his left leg now and it hurt. The bone seemed to throb with every pounding beat of his heart. More painfully, he could feel Leia's distant, but unmistakable presence in the back of his mind, the warmth of her thoughts filling a hole in his heart that he hadn't even realized was there. He felt a forgotten and familiar ache, a longing to be again near the people he loved, but then he sharply reprimanded himself for being so selfish. A lump formed in his throat. To be with them again was, of course, impossible. He would only cause them more pain.
With willpower that surprised even himself, Luke barricaded the presence of his sister from his mind. Her knowledge of him would only hurt her further. She would never learn that he was still alive. It would be for the best.
His mind was made up now.
Obi-wan had told him he would need his strength. The caustic part of Luke's pain-drunk mind had laughed bitterly. He was tired, his resolve exhausted and broken, all his hopes and dreams for his entire life lay shattered at his feet. He had not wanted to go on.
But now, his thoughts tumbled over like a maelstrom, the faintest hope shining through the gloom that perhaps something could be salvaged from the wreck. In light of all the mistakes he had made, all the people he had hurt, maybe he could stop this from going any further.
It all depended on him.
Luke staggered to his feet, not letting himself acknowledge the stabbing pain in his leg as he put weight on it. He still wasn't completely healed, but his time to act was now-he'd deal with the consequences of overexertion later.
Carefully, he limped toward the door.
*************
"Leia, are you there?" Han's voice came over the small speaker at her elbow.
"Right here," she responded, seating herself in front of the cluttered console and shoving a datapad, a half-filled mug of caff, and several datadisks out of her way. "I hope you know what's going on--all the sensors on that entire side of the base are out. Madine is--"
General Madine was suddenly hovering over her shoulder. "Solo?" he demanded gruffly. "What have you found?"
"Well, everything over here is a mess," Han reported grimly. "A pack of about thirty Krukkars attacked the generator station, just about tearing it to shreds. Of course it doesn't work any more," he added sourly. "At any rate, we have a team up here on alert, shooting any beast that's stupid enough to show its snout, but we need a maintenance crew up to--" His voice was suddenly extinguished with a burst of static from the speaker.
"Han?" Leia called, toggling the switch. She glanced up at Madine, puzzled. "Something's jamming the--"
"Sir!" cried the alarmed voice of one of the technicians. "I'm detecting several small fighter ships on the scopes. I can't tell, sir, but I think they may be TIEs."
Madine was at the other's side in an instant. "Patch me in with the Borealis," he ordered. A moment later, the tinny voice of the commander yanked the rug out from under Leia's feet with his words.
"General," he said tightly. "We're under attack by the Empire! I repeat: We're under attack!"
Madine's voice was calm as he requested the data, but Leia could see that his hands were clenched into tight, nervous fists.
"We have three Star Destroyers and swarms of fighters," the other reported over the comm unit. "N-o-wait. Scratch that. Another Star Destroyer just came out of hyperspace.bearing 527-348!"
The controller at the console quickly pinpointed the newcomer on the scanners. "There, sir."
"We see them, Borealis," Madine confirmed. "I want everyone to their battlestations. We are now on full red alert."
There was a sudden cacophony of shouts in the background and suddenly the comm unit went silent.
"We've lost them, sir," the controller cried.
Madine hit the console with his open palm. "Get them back," he ordered. "And put Home One on line--send all ships on red alert." He slapped a control, adjusting a frequency over the jamming and his voice echoed over the loudspeakers.
"Attention all personnel: this is a code-red emergency alert! All personnel revert to def-evac plan 2! I repeat: all personnel--def-evac plan 2!"
"Sir, we've hailed Home One," the crewman reported. "Admiral Ackbar is on the line."
"General Madine?" Ackbar's gravelly voice came over the speaker.
The Corellian brushed at the blonde stubble of his beard with the back of his hand and returned to the console. "Speaking," he replied.
"We are forming up now. The Borealis has just been destroyed."
A stunned silence stilled all activity in the bustling room. A pin could be heard dropping on the floor, all eyes turned expectantly on the General.
"Order all pilots to their fighters," Madine said quietly.
***********
Mara watched, motionless as a statue, as the next several waves of TIEs swept out like a cloud of insects underneath the belly of the Star Destroyer. Her eyes tracked the dissipating cloud of debris that was, until moments ago, a Rebel cruiser. One down.
Behind her, the Emperor chuckled. "The Rebels have evolved into such pitiful opponents. This will be easier than I thought." He paused, and Mara turned from the huge viewport to face him.
"I think," he began thoughtfully, "that it would be good for our young Jedi to witness this. Go and get young Skywalker, my Hand. And bring him back to me."
Mara veiled her eyes with her lashes as she bowed obediently. "Yes Master."
**************
Klaxons blared across the base into the empty, open air of the serene morning, and Solo stopped shaking his comlink in frustration to straiten in surprise.
"What in the seven moons is going on?" he demanded
"Sir," a young man jogged up to him, breathless, shouldering his rifle. "General Madine has just issued a full emergency alert: def-evac plan 2."
Solo stiffened, a colorful curse escaping reflexively from his lips. "The Imperials are here?"
He looked around. Suddenly it didn't matter that a pack of Krukkars had gutted the generator station, or that they set up snipers to take out the more suicidal animals and keep them away from the base and from destroying more equipment. They were now about to be blown out of the sky by the Imperial Navy. "Knew it was too good to last," he muttered under his breath.
"All right," he shouted to the crowd of milling troops who had formerly stood alertly, weapons ready, watching for signs of trouble, and now exchanged confused and alarmed expressions. Heads turned to look at him. "The base is under attack by the Imperials. We have new orders. Defense- evacuation plan 2! Let's move it--on the double!"
The crowd set in motion with surprising speed and the former smuggler watched, grunting to himself. "Let's see who destroys this place first: Wild animals or the Imps."
**************
Mara exited the turbolift on the level of Skywalker's suite cautiously, an elusive warning nagging at the back of her mind. Something was wrong.
She glanced up and down the corridor, her eyes scanning carefully for the thing that might have set off her danger sense as she discreetly slipped her tiny blaster out of its wrist holster and rested it securely in the palm of her right hand. The corridors were empty, and she could sense no one nearby. On the other hand, why should there be very many people hanging around the executive residential section of the ship when they were trying to fight a war outside?
Still, she picked up her pace as she walked to Skywalker's quarters, senses alert. There was no one around. But when she rounded the final corner to the Jedi's small suite, her suspicions about something being amiss proved to be justified.
A stormtrooper, the lone guard in front of the quarters of the comatose Jedi, was sitting sprawled against the smooth durasteel wall, unconscious or dead.
Mara cursed proficiently, stepping over the fallen trooper and slapping at the door control. It hissed open, and she entered the darkened room, taking only moments to storm through the modest quarters and confirm what her suspicions had already told her:
Skywalker was gone.
************
*****
Enjoy!
***** ************
The Conquerer had come out of hyperspace on the dark side of Tangrenenarr, well out of range of the Rebels' primitive ground sensors and of the lazy circle of drifting tugboats the Rebellion had the nerve of referring to as battleships as they patrolled the immediate space around Alliance HQ. But they were close enough for Mara to see clearly the small planet, a mottled swirl of browns and blues, hanging serenely in space. Her eyes dropped to the detailed readouts on the console in front of her. The scanners had already charted the planet, and had pinpointed the exact location of the Rebel base along with any shield generators, nests of weapons installations or backup ships that might also be hidden neatly away.
She thought of the rag-tag force of Rebels, down on the surface, unaware of the coming attack, knowing they probably didn't have much of a chance against the collective might of the Imperial army. Once upon a time, this fact wouldn't have caused her to lose sleep, but now, the coming slaughter and the impending casualties kept returning to her mind with a twinge of.what? Guilt?
Mara quickly brushed the feeling away. Bad things happened to people that ended up on the wrong side of the war. There wasn't anything personal or amoral about standing in the background--doing her job--as the Emperor exterminated this seditious band of people who persisted in defying his power. Skywalker's talk of 'sides' was getting to her again.
"I believe it is time," the Emperor's voice broke her out of her reverie. Lost in her thoughts, Mara had almost forgotten that she stood next to Palpatine's large, ornate throne, the huge chamber no longer the scrappy collection of Star Destroyer odds and ends of a room hastily thrown together, but a full-fledged command center with its Emperor at the head. She quickly berated herself for her inattentiveness and forced herself to turn and look her Emperor in the eyes. Those eyes narrowed and she knew he could see right through her. "It's time," he repeated.
"Yes Master," she nodded. Vader stood motionless in the background, his stance unreadable, his expression hidden.
Palpatine leaned over the arm of his throne, casually flicking a switch. "Commander," he ordered, a gleeful smile playing on his lips. "Launch the first wave of the attack."
*********
Han Solo was striding so swiftly down the narrow corridor of the main Rebel bunker, that he almost kicked an oncoming mouse droid into the far wall. With a terrified squeal, the droid barely avoided being stepped on by the oblivious general as he barreled through.
"What are you talking about?" Solo demanded loudly into the small comlink gripped tightly in his fist. "We all know how many times those things malfunction--those perimeter fences are supposed to be guarded constantly."
There was a tinny, indignant reply and Han gritted his teeth. He was not having a very good day as it was, so this hotshot rebel had better know not to push it. "What are your boys doing? Sleeping on the job? Those things make more noise than a--What do you mean it's not your fault?" He snapped. "As their commander, you take responsibility for--" Another faint protest cut him off.
Han grit his teeth again, restraining several choice curses from escaping his lips. "I'll be right there," he growled, hoping his statement sounded more like a threat than a promise.
He lowered his hand to his side and reversed his course to stalk off in the direction of the speeders.
***********
Comforting words about resting and healing echoed cavernously in Luke's mind as he slowly climbed the long tunnel to wakefulness. His eyes stubbornly did not want to open, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. His tired, befuddled mind tried to make sense of the soft texture of a pillow against his bruised cheek, the weight of the blankets comfortingly holding him against the soft cloud that was a bed, the deep throb of machinery that was a gentle pulsating background sound. He felt like he was floating. His whole body felt numb. Numb was good, he reminded himself quickly. It meant there was no pain.
He had never been in a healing trance before.
Luke recalled groggily being sick with pain and despair as someone gently carried him to a bed days--weeks? Months?--before. That must have been a dream, of course. It was probably *all* a dream--the delirious fantasies of a tired, pain-wracked soul. He remembered crying out to someone-anyone-- and had been too miserable to be surprised when the comforting apparition of Ben Kenobi appeared like a mirage before his eyes.
*Rest. Heal.* The old man had instructed gently. *You will need your strength.*
The Jedi had cried that he did not want his strength. He did not want to see any more horror or be the cause of any more misery for anyone. All he wanted was to sink into oblivion and never wake up again.
During his training on Dagobah, he'd been instructed by Yoda in specific detail on how to go into a healing trance, but he'd never actually had the occasion to apply the skill. He'd had no idea if it would even work, and found he hardly cared if it did or not, but Kenobi's voice, calming, like a mantra, implored him simply to rest.
And now.Luke lifted his arm to the level of his eyes, seeing the tattered sleeve of his tunic, but that the abrasions underneath had healed. He felt stiff and slightly sore, but other than that, it did not really hurt to move. Encouraged, he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, sleep-bleary eyes cautiously taking in his surroundings with the vague dread of recognition.
He was in a small, but comfortably furnished room, a marked difference from the cold, damp cell he'd inhabited--albeit somewhat hazily--in the bowels of the Imperial palace. He recognized the dark outlines of several articles of furniture, and knew that the heavy, ornate drapes on the far wall shrouded the expansive viewport.
He was in his quarters on the Star Destroyer.
Luke turned his head from the window, grateful for the gloom of the shrouding curtains so that he did not have to see what was out there. He did not want to see a planet razed by fire and destruction. He did not want to stand helplessly by and watch as friends were annihilated before his very eyes.
Guilt and nausea churned his stomach. Forcefully, Luke choked it down. He felt dizzy as his still-booted feet brushed the soft pile carpet of the floor.
He could feel his left leg now and it hurt. The bone seemed to throb with every pounding beat of his heart. More painfully, he could feel Leia's distant, but unmistakable presence in the back of his mind, the warmth of her thoughts filling a hole in his heart that he hadn't even realized was there. He felt a forgotten and familiar ache, a longing to be again near the people he loved, but then he sharply reprimanded himself for being so selfish. A lump formed in his throat. To be with them again was, of course, impossible. He would only cause them more pain.
With willpower that surprised even himself, Luke barricaded the presence of his sister from his mind. Her knowledge of him would only hurt her further. She would never learn that he was still alive. It would be for the best.
His mind was made up now.
Obi-wan had told him he would need his strength. The caustic part of Luke's pain-drunk mind had laughed bitterly. He was tired, his resolve exhausted and broken, all his hopes and dreams for his entire life lay shattered at his feet. He had not wanted to go on.
But now, his thoughts tumbled over like a maelstrom, the faintest hope shining through the gloom that perhaps something could be salvaged from the wreck. In light of all the mistakes he had made, all the people he had hurt, maybe he could stop this from going any further.
It all depended on him.
Luke staggered to his feet, not letting himself acknowledge the stabbing pain in his leg as he put weight on it. He still wasn't completely healed, but his time to act was now-he'd deal with the consequences of overexertion later.
Carefully, he limped toward the door.
*************
"Leia, are you there?" Han's voice came over the small speaker at her elbow.
"Right here," she responded, seating herself in front of the cluttered console and shoving a datapad, a half-filled mug of caff, and several datadisks out of her way. "I hope you know what's going on--all the sensors on that entire side of the base are out. Madine is--"
General Madine was suddenly hovering over her shoulder. "Solo?" he demanded gruffly. "What have you found?"
"Well, everything over here is a mess," Han reported grimly. "A pack of about thirty Krukkars attacked the generator station, just about tearing it to shreds. Of course it doesn't work any more," he added sourly. "At any rate, we have a team up here on alert, shooting any beast that's stupid enough to show its snout, but we need a maintenance crew up to--" His voice was suddenly extinguished with a burst of static from the speaker.
"Han?" Leia called, toggling the switch. She glanced up at Madine, puzzled. "Something's jamming the--"
"Sir!" cried the alarmed voice of one of the technicians. "I'm detecting several small fighter ships on the scopes. I can't tell, sir, but I think they may be TIEs."
Madine was at the other's side in an instant. "Patch me in with the Borealis," he ordered. A moment later, the tinny voice of the commander yanked the rug out from under Leia's feet with his words.
"General," he said tightly. "We're under attack by the Empire! I repeat: We're under attack!"
Madine's voice was calm as he requested the data, but Leia could see that his hands were clenched into tight, nervous fists.
"We have three Star Destroyers and swarms of fighters," the other reported over the comm unit. "N-o-wait. Scratch that. Another Star Destroyer just came out of hyperspace.bearing 527-348!"
The controller at the console quickly pinpointed the newcomer on the scanners. "There, sir."
"We see them, Borealis," Madine confirmed. "I want everyone to their battlestations. We are now on full red alert."
There was a sudden cacophony of shouts in the background and suddenly the comm unit went silent.
"We've lost them, sir," the controller cried.
Madine hit the console with his open palm. "Get them back," he ordered. "And put Home One on line--send all ships on red alert." He slapped a control, adjusting a frequency over the jamming and his voice echoed over the loudspeakers.
"Attention all personnel: this is a code-red emergency alert! All personnel revert to def-evac plan 2! I repeat: all personnel--def-evac plan 2!"
"Sir, we've hailed Home One," the crewman reported. "Admiral Ackbar is on the line."
"General Madine?" Ackbar's gravelly voice came over the speaker.
The Corellian brushed at the blonde stubble of his beard with the back of his hand and returned to the console. "Speaking," he replied.
"We are forming up now. The Borealis has just been destroyed."
A stunned silence stilled all activity in the bustling room. A pin could be heard dropping on the floor, all eyes turned expectantly on the General.
"Order all pilots to their fighters," Madine said quietly.
***********
Mara watched, motionless as a statue, as the next several waves of TIEs swept out like a cloud of insects underneath the belly of the Star Destroyer. Her eyes tracked the dissipating cloud of debris that was, until moments ago, a Rebel cruiser. One down.
Behind her, the Emperor chuckled. "The Rebels have evolved into such pitiful opponents. This will be easier than I thought." He paused, and Mara turned from the huge viewport to face him.
"I think," he began thoughtfully, "that it would be good for our young Jedi to witness this. Go and get young Skywalker, my Hand. And bring him back to me."
Mara veiled her eyes with her lashes as she bowed obediently. "Yes Master."
**************
Klaxons blared across the base into the empty, open air of the serene morning, and Solo stopped shaking his comlink in frustration to straiten in surprise.
"What in the seven moons is going on?" he demanded
"Sir," a young man jogged up to him, breathless, shouldering his rifle. "General Madine has just issued a full emergency alert: def-evac plan 2."
Solo stiffened, a colorful curse escaping reflexively from his lips. "The Imperials are here?"
He looked around. Suddenly it didn't matter that a pack of Krukkars had gutted the generator station, or that they set up snipers to take out the more suicidal animals and keep them away from the base and from destroying more equipment. They were now about to be blown out of the sky by the Imperial Navy. "Knew it was too good to last," he muttered under his breath.
"All right," he shouted to the crowd of milling troops who had formerly stood alertly, weapons ready, watching for signs of trouble, and now exchanged confused and alarmed expressions. Heads turned to look at him. "The base is under attack by the Imperials. We have new orders. Defense- evacuation plan 2! Let's move it--on the double!"
The crowd set in motion with surprising speed and the former smuggler watched, grunting to himself. "Let's see who destroys this place first: Wild animals or the Imps."
**************
Mara exited the turbolift on the level of Skywalker's suite cautiously, an elusive warning nagging at the back of her mind. Something was wrong.
She glanced up and down the corridor, her eyes scanning carefully for the thing that might have set off her danger sense as she discreetly slipped her tiny blaster out of its wrist holster and rested it securely in the palm of her right hand. The corridors were empty, and she could sense no one nearby. On the other hand, why should there be very many people hanging around the executive residential section of the ship when they were trying to fight a war outside?
Still, she picked up her pace as she walked to Skywalker's quarters, senses alert. There was no one around. But when she rounded the final corner to the Jedi's small suite, her suspicions about something being amiss proved to be justified.
A stormtrooper, the lone guard in front of the quarters of the comatose Jedi, was sitting sprawled against the smooth durasteel wall, unconscious or dead.
Mara cursed proficiently, stepping over the fallen trooper and slapping at the door control. It hissed open, and she entered the darkened room, taking only moments to storm through the modest quarters and confirm what her suspicions had already told her:
Skywalker was gone.
************
*****
