WHAT CHOICE REMAINS

Authors: Co-written by rhonderoo and Jedi Trace

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

CHAPTER THREE

Mara watched as the Emperor drummed his fingers slowly on the arms of his throne. Perhaps for the first time ever, she sensed that he was…..uncertain. In fact, she felt it as clearly as if he had spoken the sentiment aloud. Her talent for receiving thoughts, images and feelings was the only Force ability that the Palpatine had cultivated in her extensively and, on occasions such as today where the air around her practically hummed with undercurrents of emotion, she couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse.

The holographic image of Darth Vader appeared and the Emperor spoke, "We have a new enemy. Luke Skywalker."

Mara felt Vader's knee-jerk reaction to the name and his immediate block. For reasons that she did not understand, the name Luke Skywalker evoked powerful emotions from her master, which he hid obsessively from his own master.

A spike of disgust flared from across the room. Prince Xizor, head of the Black Sun crime organization, watched the conversation with perverse interest. He hated Darth Vader with a violent intensity. She noted that Xizor was mentally cataloging the conversation, predictably storing information for future ammunition.

Mara despised Prince Xizor. One of her few fantasies in life was the opportunity to rid the galaxy of his repulsive presence. Undoubtedly, his freakish human replica droid-bodyguard would attempt to intervene. Mara suppressed a smile at the thought. It would, indeed, be a dream come true.

The transmission ended and Palpatine resumed his dealings with Xizor. Mara replayed the previous conversation in her mind. Her master had just promised to turn Luke Skywalker to the Dark Side or destroy him. She did not need her Force bond with him to know that he was deadly serious.

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A towering black figure appeared from unknown shadows. Announced only by the sound of a mechanical ventilator, he advanced steadily, without hesitation. His red sword ignited in response to the blue blade held resolutely in front of him. He struck once and was blocked. Twice more the glowing sabers clashed before the blue blade delivered the killing blow…

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Nearby, a diminutive Jedi Master lifted his head as if listening to a distant refrain. A soft grunt was his only reply as he resumed his patient vigil.

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Across the galaxy, Emperor Palpatine stared trance-like into space. His yellow eyes narrowed to slits as the image of a dark cave filled his vision.

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"No!" Mara cried, jerking bolt upright in her bunk. Gasping and drenched in sweat, she glanced around the familiar surroundings of the Executor, reorienting herself. Pushing damp hair away from her face with trembling hands, she realized that the dream had not been her own, but an echo from her master. Throwing back the covers and slapping the exit panel, she hurried from her quarters.

Standing outside Vader's chamber, Mara sent an inquiring pulse through the Force. There was a slight hesitation before the door opened and she entered silently. Cape discarded; he stood in front of a large viewport, hands clasped behind his back.

Barefoot and clad in her loose fitting sleep pants and tunic, Mara wondered briefly if she should've made herself more presentable. She brushed the thought aside quickly. Her master had certainly seen her looking much worse.

Vader's respiratory rate was slightly elevated as the haunting implication of the vision hung in the air like a fog.

She spoke quietly, "Is it the future?"

He answered slowly, "The future is always in motion."

"Is Skywalker that powerful?"

Vader turned to face her as the jagged sensations that clashed within him resolved themselves into bitter determination, "Not yet."

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The atmosphere on the Executor was charged with apprehension. Darth Vader stood looking out of the view port of his beloved Star Destroyer. It was the only thing of any kind of personal value to him that he had left...until now, a voice whispered at the back of his mind.

It seemed like ages had past since his conversation with his apprentice, when in fact it hadn't been long at all. His conversation with the Emperor about Luke Skywalker and the dream of the cave had left him uneasy, the whole business now taking on an added air of peril. His feelings on the matter had caught him off guard in their intensity and he worked to calm the maelstrom of different thoughts that had haunted him since the dream. He was not sure where these thoughts had come from or why he had been inclined to convince his Master that the boy should be turned instead of destroyed. He was sure, however, that the Emperor would not be denied his prize. The boy would be turned or Vader would be obligated to terminate his life. A cold feeling snaked up his spine at the thought of the latter; he quickly straightened, dismissing the thoughts as quickly as he had found them. He would do what he must.

To compound his troubles, the failures at Hoth and subsequent Asteroid field chase had left him with nothing. The Empire had succeeded in driving the Rebels from the base on the frozen planet. The Rebels had maintained serious casualties, yet still managed to flee somewhat intact. They had been aware of the imminent arrival of the fleet due to the stupid and insolent miscalculation of Admiral Ozzel. The man had paid dearly; Darth Vader had no patience for fools.

After the dismissal of Ozzel, Vader had promoted the young Captain Piett, and sent him off with the command to start the search for the pirate Han Solo's ship. Vader thought of the Millennium Falcon. The ship had caused him more trouble than the Jedi when they were at large, and he was beginning to lose his well-maintained sense of control. The pirate would pay for his crimes against the Empire soon. Vader drew in a deep breath and made his way to the bridge.

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Vader stalked in front of a motley crew of the galaxy's most infamous bounty hunters. He could feel the crew's distaste at sharing the bridge with the objectionable group of "professionals".

"There will be a substantial reward for anyone who finds the Millennium Falcon. You are free to use any means necessary, but I want them alive. No disintegrations."

The last statement was directed to Boba Fett, perhaps the most merciless of the bounty hunter's guild, known for his attention to detail. As the Dark Lord finished, Admiral Piett rushed forward to inform him of the status of their search - they had located their quarry.

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One month later, Mara found Darth Vader in the executive command center perusing detailed plans for a new Death Star. The Emperor had commissioned the battle station and placed Vader in charge of its construction.

He had not spoken of the confrontation with Luke Skywalker on Bespin since his return to the Executor, but the damaged armor on his right shoulder had been all the evidence she needed to deduce its outcome. He seemed to have changed since the trip to the gas planet. In the last month, she often found him brooding out viewports, or even shut away in his private chambers, deep in meditation. There seemed to be a desperate air about him. It was almost as if he were trying to regain something he had lost, something just outside his reach. Mara decided that the more desperate he became the more dangerous he was.

Mara approached her master with care. She sensed in the force that his mood remained black and detached.

He addressed her tersely, "Yes?"

"The Emperor commands that I return to Coruscant."

He nodded in acknowledgment, and dismissal.