Chapter 9
A biological life form may have found peace and serenity in a lush forested glade or a glittering ice cave, or considered the majestic power of a waterfall or the golden stillness of the desert a place of sanctuary. Threepio, being a droid, found his refuge in the shimmering metal spires and clean level walkways of Cloud City. After spending so much time in rugged surroundings – the Dune Sea, ice caverns, jungle, ruined temples, asteroids – it was a relief to finally be in sterile, technical paradise.
Their host, Lando Calrissian, seemed pleasant enough. And such a gentleman toward Mistress Leia! It was refreshing to see that, even in this remote corner of the galaxy, there were still some life forms that retained a few manners.
Really, he mused as he and his flesh-and-blood compatriots followed the Baron Administrator through the pristine hallways of the Baron's palace, what did the Princess see in that scoundrel Han Solo? Sure, he met the species' qualifications for good looks, but Calrissian was just as handsome, and he was so much more polished. And generous besides, offering their group shelter and aid in repairing the Falcon. If Leia were to pursue a relationship with him, Threepio wouldn't be at all adverse.
But then, no one asked a droid's opinion. Even when said droid was an expert in human relations. Oh well. He was used to having his opinions ignored.
It did seem odd to him that neither Leia nor Han acted as if they trusted Lando. What by the Maker was the matter? Lando hadn't done anything to suggest he meant them harm!
Maybe it was his skin color, which was several shades darker than Han and Leia's. That was one of humanity's many puzzles that he'd never been able to solve – hatred based on a genetic factor. It was senseless, really. Lando had no more control over his flesh hue than a droid had in the color of his plating. And silver protocol droids certainly weren't prejudiced against gold protocol droids, were they? Nor did the different classes of astromechs refuse to work together simply because one was an R2 unit and another an R5…
Speaking of astromechs… that sounded just like one! Had Artoo made it here too? Perhaps Master Luke and Master Vader were here as well! He broke off from the group and set off in the general direction of the droid's whistle to investigate.
Thinking of Vader reminded him of that day three years ago when Vader had announced himself Threepio's maker. He'd never revealed that tidbit of data to anyone else – not because he considered it private or been ordered to keep it a secret, but simply because no one had ever questioned him about his maker. Still, it was an interesting, if questionable, fragment of trivia.
"You there!"
He looked up sharply, startled out of an unconscious computer process a biological would have termed a daydream.
"Oh, excuse me – sorry to have disturbed you – no, please don't get up – no – no!"
-------
"He says he found him in a recycling plant," Han translated as Chewie deposited Threepio – who seemed to have gone to pieces somehow – onto the table in the sitting room where Lando had left them.
"What a mess," Leia moaned. At least this explained where the poor droid had gone.
"Well, maybe we can get Lando's people to fix him," Han offered, grabbing the sides of the box.
"No," Leia said quickly. "Han, I don't trust him."
"I don't trust him either," Han replied soothingly, a comment that did little to allay her concerns. "Why, what's the problem?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "There's just something… off… about him. He's smooth and well-intentioned on the surface, but I can tell he's hiding something."
"Well, if he didn't have some sort of scheme up his sleeve, he wouldn't be Lando," Han replied, letting go of the box. "Great gambler, great strategist, heck of a sabaac player." He flopped down onto a plush chair and stretched. "Ah, this is the life! I told you I'd find us someplace safe to hide."
She had to smile. "After you nearly got us pounded to space dust, fried to a crisp, and eaten by a silicone leviathan."
"Hey!"
Chewie whuffed in amusement.
"Oh, shut up, fuzzball," Han retorted. "See what you can do to get Goldenrod back in one piece, would you?"
He nodded and began extracting pieces from the box.
Leia sat down next to Han and, without thinking, leaned against him. He lowered his arm to gently embrace her. Idly she thought that if her father could see her now, he'd probably have a coronary. After all, Han was far from marriageable material in the eyes of most nobility. His lack of social standing (not to mention social graces) and apparent disregard of authority would have immediately disqualified him as a potential husband had she still been in Alderaan's Royal House.
But nobility and the social ladder that accompanied it had little to do with actual romance and love. And though she had fought it for a long time, she could no longer deny the fact that she loved this pirate despite his flaws – or perhaps because of them. He was a rogue, a scoundrel, and somehow that made no difference to her.
"Well, isn't this a cozy scene."
She stood abruptly and Han sat up straight as Lando Calrissian entered the room with a swirl of his silken cloak, offering Leia a rakish grin. Handsome and poised, he looked every inch a Baron, yet he could just as easily have worn the garb of a pirate like Han and not looked a bit out of place.
Though he had done nothing obvious to threaten her or Han, she felt her hackles rise. Something about him disturbed her, as if behind his well-meaning surface he had claws concealed. Han had assured her that they were completely safe here, but she hadn't become a high-ranking Rebel by blindly trusting everyone's word.
She glanced down at Han's hand, which constantly remained near his blaster and credit pouch. Well, at least he wasn't throwing caution entirely to the wind.
"My, lady, you're truly a vision," Lando said admiringly, taking her hand to kiss it. "If I may say so, you truly belong with us here in the clouds."
As his lips touched her fingers, his gaze slid over to Han. The smuggler was glaring at his old comrade. At that, Leia had to smile. Lando wasn't a serious competitor for her affections; this was just an act to rile Han.
"I came to ask if you three would like to partake in some refreshment with me," he continued.
"Sounds good, we're starved," Han replied brusquely, taking Leia's arm possessively. Was he actually jealous?
Lando's grin widened at his friend's protective action. Then his gaze fell on Threepio. "Having trouble with your droid?"
Han offered him a rather sarcastic look. "No. Not at all."
"I'm arranging to have lunch brought here," Lando went on. "You guys have had a long trip, from what I understand. So how'd you manage to pull this whole chase off, Han?"
"By the skin of my teeth," Han admitted.
While the two men discussed what had gone on since they'd last met, Leia stared out the window and tried to relax. It was hopeless, though. The nagging feeling that something monumental was about to happen just wouldn't go away. She drew a deep breath and reined in the premonition, keeping it at the back of her mind. Forewarned was forearmed. She would be prepared if Lando's intentions proved sinister.
She let her thoughts drift toward Luke. Wherever he and the Rogues were, she hoped they were safe. Luke was probably worried sick about her, though. Would he be at all envious of her newfound relationship with Han? She doubted it – Luke wasn't the type to get jealous.
Lando was going on about some sort of Imperial tax hike that was giving him headaches, and Han's next question brought her back to reality.
"Aren't you afraid of the Empire overtaking this place?"
"We're a small mining colony, so we're generally overlooked by the Empire, though the threat of a takeover constantly hangs over us and threatens all we've worked so hard to build." The door chimed, and he went over to key it open. "But I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever."
The door rasped open.
Leia felt them before she saw them, like twin suns that radiated jet-black rays. The sheer malevolence and hatred that rolled in waves over her made her gorge rise.
Kain strode briskly into the room, his jet-black armor gleaming in the artificial light, an obsenity against the beautiful white walls of the room. Behind him came the stooped, ugly, twisted but by no means frail form of the Emperor, smiling evilly at them.
Chewie belted out an uncharacteristically savage roar, and that startled Han to action. He tore his blaster loose from its holster and fired at the two Sith. Kain casually raised a hand, and the bolts ricocheted off an unseen barrier and struck the wall. He then extended the hand, and Han's blaster sprang from his grip and into the Sith's fingers.
"We would be honored to join you," the Emperor said in an oily voice, his smile broadening.
Stormtroopers filed into the room, surrounding the three of them. Last of all came the huntress Aurra Sing, a predatory smile on her lips.
"I had no choice," Lando said firmly, his smile gone. "They came right before you did."
"Yeah," Han sneered. "You're a real pal."
------
The Desert Angel flopped to an ungainly landing in the mud, jostled loose from the trees by repeated tugs of the Force. Vader quickly scanned the fighter for damage before motioning for Artoo to board.
"Couldn't you do that a little more quietly?" hissed Luke, wrestling Rusty into his X-wing socket. "You'll wake him up." He jerked his head toward the hut.
"Yoda sleeps like a corpse," Vader retorted. "Besides, how else was I supposed to get her down?"
Rusty uttered a faint whine as he finally clicked into place. Vader had slapped the droid back together as quickly as possible, but the hasty job had only served to muddle his logic processor even more than before. If he made it to Cloud City without blowing his motivator or suffering a meltdown, it would be a miracle.
"Ready to go?" asked Vader.
"Ready when you are."
Vader half-expected Yoda to storm out of his hut, railing at them for abandoning their training for the sake of a silly nightmare. For a moment he felt a pang of regret for doing this, for leaving without so much as informing Yoda of their destination and reason for departing so quickly. After all, he'd explicitly cautioned them against going off to face Kain and Palpatine before the time was right.
But then the memory of their conversation – and Yoda's self-righteous denunciation of anything dealing with friendship and love – returned with a sour taste in his mouth. The knowledge that the Jedi Order considered love to be worse than worthless but downright destructive rankled on a very deep level. Yoda had obviously never known a true, deep love like he and Luke had. And he was sure that if they awakened him now and told him they were leaving to aid their friends, he would forbid them from going.
He curled his lip and powered the Angel's engines. If Yoda would rather see their friends die, so be it. But he wasn't going to sit back and do nothing simply because of some twisted Jedi theory.
The X-wing began to rise, and the Angel lifted off the ground to join it. Their starfighters soared above the clouds and into the jeweled blackness of space, their courses set for Bespin.
"Don't you think we should have at least left a note?" asked Luke. "I mean, Yoda's bound to be pretty concerned when he sees our bedrolls empty…"
"He's a Jedi," Vader replied brusquely. "He can find out where we are quick enough through the Force."
"I know. But he's still going to be worried…"
"As far as I'm concerned, he can stew."
"Yikes, you're touchy. What exactly did you two talk about last night?"
"Love. Or more accurately, the Jedi edict forbidding it."
A long pause. "I see."
The stars became swaths of light on either side as their ships penetrated hyperspace. Vader leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to quiet his mind and release his pent-up anger and confusion, but his thoughts wouldn't be still.
/A Jedi shall not know discouragement, nor despair, nor love. A Jedi shall not know love. There is no emotion, there is peace. But what kind of life is that? A life where you're not allowed to form bonds of friendship, where devotion of any kind except to the Force is considered dangerous? Is that really the kind of life I want?/
"Father, if you think any louder, this entire sector's going to hear it," Luke chided. "You're angry with Master Yoda, aren't you?"
"No," he retorted quickly. "I'm just… frustrated with the Order. With that particular section of the Code. I know it's gotten me into trouble before, but still… I don't see the justification in it."
"I agree with you there," Luke sympathized. "Life would get pretty unbearable without friends. But don't take it out on Master Yoda. Sure he's old, but that part of the Code predates even his lifespan. It's not like he invented it to make our lives miserable."
"True." He closed his eyes again as his anger toward Yoda began to melt away. "True…"
…"How feel you?" Yoda asked him, a finger tapping his chin.
"Cold, sir," he replied truthfully. This room was kept at a temperature that was probably comfortable to anyone not from Tatooine, but he was shivering. He wished he were back home with his mother. He didn't like these Jedi staring at him like he was a bother.
"Your thoughts dwell on your mother," noted an alien Jedi whose name he didn't know, a humanoid with a beard and a tall, hairless, cone-shaped skull.
"I miss her," he mumbled, staring at the floor.
"Fear for her you do," Yoda persisted.
"What does that have to do with anything?" he demanded, wishing these Jedi would stop probing into his mind.
"Everything!" Yoda admonished. "Fear is the path that leads to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering!" He nodded gravely, his green eyes narrowing. "I sense much fear in you."
He lowered his head in shame, angry that they had invaded the privacy of his thoughts and feelings, angry that they were acting as if he were somehow bad for missing his mom and worrying for her safety…
He shuddered as the memory faded. "Not again…"
"Another flashback?" asked Luke, sounding eager to hear it.
"I'm not telling you this one," he insisted.
"Why not?" demanded Luke.
"Just don't ask," he said forcefully, feeling his face flush. "Even I deserve some privacy in my thoughts."
Luke was silent, evidently deciding to drop the matter.
Vader said nothing else for the duration for the trip. He felt as if he might explode if he opened his mouth one more time. The foreboding and anxiety generated by his vision of Han and Forenze's pain was bad enough, and now he had to deal with feelings of anger toward Yoda and the Jedi Code as well! The turbulent emotions burned sullenly in the pit of his stomach, like a banked ember just waiting for a breath of oxygen or a stick of kindling to flare up again.
He tried his best to ignore that knot of anger… and the encroaching darkness that seemed to gain its strength from it.
/By the stars/ he thought, /first the wampa, then the flashbacks, now this… am I becoming what I had hoped to destroy?/
--------
Yoda watched the glowing specks that were the departing starfighters of his Padawans fade into the clouds from the doorway of his hut, unnoticed and silent. The dark-side-induced nightmare had awakened him as well as his two apprentices, but unlike them he had recognized it as a trap. But something – he suspected the Force-spirit of Qui-gon, but he couldn't be sure – had held him back from warning Luke and Vader.
Why he was forbidden from interfering, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it had been a test for the Skywalkers. It wasn't healthy to coddle an apprentice; some trials they had to overcome on their own. But such tests were just as trying on the masters as they were on the Padawans, for it was difficult to simply sit back and watch a trainee struggle on his or her own, make mistakes and learn the consequences, and sometimes even fail.
He lowered his head regretfully. If this were truly a test, the Skywalkers had failed miserably. And that weighed heavily upon his heart.
/Don't be so sure of their failure, Yoda/ Obi-wan told him kindly. /I've seen those boys do some remarkable things. Perhaps they can deal the Sith a good fight./
"Too much faith you place in them," Yoda snapped. "Told the entire Order you did that the salvation of the Order those two were – and look now. Gone they are. Their greatest weakness their friends were, and quick to exploit it the Emperor was. Told you I did that a bad idea this was."
/Have a little faith, you old skeptic/ chided Obi-wan.
Yoda looked back up at the sky, at a stray patch of clear sky. "Tested greatly they will be. Especially Vader. Lose him again we may."
/But aren't all Jedi tested? Yoda, you must have faith that they will take the right path. After all, they're our last hope./
"No," corrected Yoda. "There is another."
------
The cell door hissed open, and the troopers flung Han Solo's limp, sweat-soaked body onto the steel floor of the cell before leaving. Blinded with agony, Han barely had the strength to groan in pain, let alone acknowledge Chewie's frantic howl or Threepio's complaints that the Wookie was doing a shoddy job of reassembling him.
"What the stang? You too? Who's next, High Command?"
Han groaned again, this time from a different sort of pain. The last person he wanted to share a cell with was that crabby medical officer.
"Get him up on the bench, Chewie," Forenze ordered. "I'll see what I can do for him."
Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She was a doctor, after all.
Furry arms gripped him and hoisted him up like a rag doll, depositing him gently on the metal cot. He felt cool clawed hands carefully open his shirt and examine his chest for wounds. He hissed as she gingerly felt his cracked ribs. And he could have wept with joy when he felt Leia's soft comforting lips on his cheek.
"I feel terrible," he moaned.
"You look terrible," Forenze agreed a little too quickly.
He managed to focus his eyes enough to see her face more clearly. "You don't look so good yourself, birdbeak."
"I didn't ask for commentary!" she snapped, one hand clapping over her blackened, swollen-shut left eye.
"Why are they doing this?" asked Leia, not expecting an answer. Her hair had worked itself loose from its braids and now stood out at bizarre angles, but if the Imperials had roughed her up too, she showed no other sign of it. Her pain seemed to come more from seeing him in agony.
/Stang, how did I get so lucky?/ he thought with a well-deserved twinge of happiness. /She really does love me!/
Chewie whimpered slightly. Han didn't even ask what he'd been through but clung to the Woookie in a fervent embrace, seeking comfort and giving it all at once.
"Han?"
He snarled, not bothering to turn. "Go away, Lando."
Lando ignored him. A few of Cloud City's security guards followed him into the cell. "I have some bad news."
"Since when have you been able to offer us anything besides that?" demanded Leia.
"Look, this is not my fault!" Lando insisted. "When the Emperor wants something, he gets it, by hook or by crook. That's all there is to it. And I'm not going to have my people suffer when I can do something to prevent it."
"Spit out the bad news and get it over with," Han advised.
"Darth Kain and the Emperor are going to turn Han over to the bounty hunter."
Han winced. Well, he'd asked. And he'd known he'd have to face Jabba sometime. But he'd always thought it would be on his own terms, with a box full of credits to appease his temper and a gun by his side to ward off his hostile cohorts.
"What about Leia?" he asked.
"She'll be fine. She and the two aliens will have to stay here, but they'll be safe. I'll take good care of them, I promise."
"And you really believe all this poodoo?" snapped Forenze.
"The Emperor made a deal…" Lando protested.
"The Emperor wants us all dead!" Leia shouted.
"He doesn't want any of you!" Lando retorted. "He's after somebody called…" He searched his memory for the name. "…Skywalker!"
That took Han's breath away as surely as a blow to the stomach. "Luke!"
"He and Kain have set a trap for him…" Lando explained.
"And we're the friggin' bait!" shrieked Forenze.
"Look, I'm sorry I can't help you any more, but I've got my own problems!"
Han lunged, his fist catching Lando's jaw before a blaster butt to his temple drove him back to the floor. Chewie hovered protectively over him and snarled at the guards.
"I guess we know where your loyalties lie," Leia remarked coldly.
Lando didn't reply but stormed out of the cell, muttering, "This deal keeps getting worse all the time."
A biological life form may have found peace and serenity in a lush forested glade or a glittering ice cave, or considered the majestic power of a waterfall or the golden stillness of the desert a place of sanctuary. Threepio, being a droid, found his refuge in the shimmering metal spires and clean level walkways of Cloud City. After spending so much time in rugged surroundings – the Dune Sea, ice caverns, jungle, ruined temples, asteroids – it was a relief to finally be in sterile, technical paradise.
Their host, Lando Calrissian, seemed pleasant enough. And such a gentleman toward Mistress Leia! It was refreshing to see that, even in this remote corner of the galaxy, there were still some life forms that retained a few manners.
Really, he mused as he and his flesh-and-blood compatriots followed the Baron Administrator through the pristine hallways of the Baron's palace, what did the Princess see in that scoundrel Han Solo? Sure, he met the species' qualifications for good looks, but Calrissian was just as handsome, and he was so much more polished. And generous besides, offering their group shelter and aid in repairing the Falcon. If Leia were to pursue a relationship with him, Threepio wouldn't be at all adverse.
But then, no one asked a droid's opinion. Even when said droid was an expert in human relations. Oh well. He was used to having his opinions ignored.
It did seem odd to him that neither Leia nor Han acted as if they trusted Lando. What by the Maker was the matter? Lando hadn't done anything to suggest he meant them harm!
Maybe it was his skin color, which was several shades darker than Han and Leia's. That was one of humanity's many puzzles that he'd never been able to solve – hatred based on a genetic factor. It was senseless, really. Lando had no more control over his flesh hue than a droid had in the color of his plating. And silver protocol droids certainly weren't prejudiced against gold protocol droids, were they? Nor did the different classes of astromechs refuse to work together simply because one was an R2 unit and another an R5…
Speaking of astromechs… that sounded just like one! Had Artoo made it here too? Perhaps Master Luke and Master Vader were here as well! He broke off from the group and set off in the general direction of the droid's whistle to investigate.
Thinking of Vader reminded him of that day three years ago when Vader had announced himself Threepio's maker. He'd never revealed that tidbit of data to anyone else – not because he considered it private or been ordered to keep it a secret, but simply because no one had ever questioned him about his maker. Still, it was an interesting, if questionable, fragment of trivia.
"You there!"
He looked up sharply, startled out of an unconscious computer process a biological would have termed a daydream.
"Oh, excuse me – sorry to have disturbed you – no, please don't get up – no – no!"
-------
"He says he found him in a recycling plant," Han translated as Chewie deposited Threepio – who seemed to have gone to pieces somehow – onto the table in the sitting room where Lando had left them.
"What a mess," Leia moaned. At least this explained where the poor droid had gone.
"Well, maybe we can get Lando's people to fix him," Han offered, grabbing the sides of the box.
"No," Leia said quickly. "Han, I don't trust him."
"I don't trust him either," Han replied soothingly, a comment that did little to allay her concerns. "Why, what's the problem?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "There's just something… off… about him. He's smooth and well-intentioned on the surface, but I can tell he's hiding something."
"Well, if he didn't have some sort of scheme up his sleeve, he wouldn't be Lando," Han replied, letting go of the box. "Great gambler, great strategist, heck of a sabaac player." He flopped down onto a plush chair and stretched. "Ah, this is the life! I told you I'd find us someplace safe to hide."
She had to smile. "After you nearly got us pounded to space dust, fried to a crisp, and eaten by a silicone leviathan."
"Hey!"
Chewie whuffed in amusement.
"Oh, shut up, fuzzball," Han retorted. "See what you can do to get Goldenrod back in one piece, would you?"
He nodded and began extracting pieces from the box.
Leia sat down next to Han and, without thinking, leaned against him. He lowered his arm to gently embrace her. Idly she thought that if her father could see her now, he'd probably have a coronary. After all, Han was far from marriageable material in the eyes of most nobility. His lack of social standing (not to mention social graces) and apparent disregard of authority would have immediately disqualified him as a potential husband had she still been in Alderaan's Royal House.
But nobility and the social ladder that accompanied it had little to do with actual romance and love. And though she had fought it for a long time, she could no longer deny the fact that she loved this pirate despite his flaws – or perhaps because of them. He was a rogue, a scoundrel, and somehow that made no difference to her.
"Well, isn't this a cozy scene."
She stood abruptly and Han sat up straight as Lando Calrissian entered the room with a swirl of his silken cloak, offering Leia a rakish grin. Handsome and poised, he looked every inch a Baron, yet he could just as easily have worn the garb of a pirate like Han and not looked a bit out of place.
Though he had done nothing obvious to threaten her or Han, she felt her hackles rise. Something about him disturbed her, as if behind his well-meaning surface he had claws concealed. Han had assured her that they were completely safe here, but she hadn't become a high-ranking Rebel by blindly trusting everyone's word.
She glanced down at Han's hand, which constantly remained near his blaster and credit pouch. Well, at least he wasn't throwing caution entirely to the wind.
"My, lady, you're truly a vision," Lando said admiringly, taking her hand to kiss it. "If I may say so, you truly belong with us here in the clouds."
As his lips touched her fingers, his gaze slid over to Han. The smuggler was glaring at his old comrade. At that, Leia had to smile. Lando wasn't a serious competitor for her affections; this was just an act to rile Han.
"I came to ask if you three would like to partake in some refreshment with me," he continued.
"Sounds good, we're starved," Han replied brusquely, taking Leia's arm possessively. Was he actually jealous?
Lando's grin widened at his friend's protective action. Then his gaze fell on Threepio. "Having trouble with your droid?"
Han offered him a rather sarcastic look. "No. Not at all."
"I'm arranging to have lunch brought here," Lando went on. "You guys have had a long trip, from what I understand. So how'd you manage to pull this whole chase off, Han?"
"By the skin of my teeth," Han admitted.
While the two men discussed what had gone on since they'd last met, Leia stared out the window and tried to relax. It was hopeless, though. The nagging feeling that something monumental was about to happen just wouldn't go away. She drew a deep breath and reined in the premonition, keeping it at the back of her mind. Forewarned was forearmed. She would be prepared if Lando's intentions proved sinister.
She let her thoughts drift toward Luke. Wherever he and the Rogues were, she hoped they were safe. Luke was probably worried sick about her, though. Would he be at all envious of her newfound relationship with Han? She doubted it – Luke wasn't the type to get jealous.
Lando was going on about some sort of Imperial tax hike that was giving him headaches, and Han's next question brought her back to reality.
"Aren't you afraid of the Empire overtaking this place?"
"We're a small mining colony, so we're generally overlooked by the Empire, though the threat of a takeover constantly hangs over us and threatens all we've worked so hard to build." The door chimed, and he went over to key it open. "But I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever."
The door rasped open.
Leia felt them before she saw them, like twin suns that radiated jet-black rays. The sheer malevolence and hatred that rolled in waves over her made her gorge rise.
Kain strode briskly into the room, his jet-black armor gleaming in the artificial light, an obsenity against the beautiful white walls of the room. Behind him came the stooped, ugly, twisted but by no means frail form of the Emperor, smiling evilly at them.
Chewie belted out an uncharacteristically savage roar, and that startled Han to action. He tore his blaster loose from its holster and fired at the two Sith. Kain casually raised a hand, and the bolts ricocheted off an unseen barrier and struck the wall. He then extended the hand, and Han's blaster sprang from his grip and into the Sith's fingers.
"We would be honored to join you," the Emperor said in an oily voice, his smile broadening.
Stormtroopers filed into the room, surrounding the three of them. Last of all came the huntress Aurra Sing, a predatory smile on her lips.
"I had no choice," Lando said firmly, his smile gone. "They came right before you did."
"Yeah," Han sneered. "You're a real pal."
------
The Desert Angel flopped to an ungainly landing in the mud, jostled loose from the trees by repeated tugs of the Force. Vader quickly scanned the fighter for damage before motioning for Artoo to board.
"Couldn't you do that a little more quietly?" hissed Luke, wrestling Rusty into his X-wing socket. "You'll wake him up." He jerked his head toward the hut.
"Yoda sleeps like a corpse," Vader retorted. "Besides, how else was I supposed to get her down?"
Rusty uttered a faint whine as he finally clicked into place. Vader had slapped the droid back together as quickly as possible, but the hasty job had only served to muddle his logic processor even more than before. If he made it to Cloud City without blowing his motivator or suffering a meltdown, it would be a miracle.
"Ready to go?" asked Vader.
"Ready when you are."
Vader half-expected Yoda to storm out of his hut, railing at them for abandoning their training for the sake of a silly nightmare. For a moment he felt a pang of regret for doing this, for leaving without so much as informing Yoda of their destination and reason for departing so quickly. After all, he'd explicitly cautioned them against going off to face Kain and Palpatine before the time was right.
But then the memory of their conversation – and Yoda's self-righteous denunciation of anything dealing with friendship and love – returned with a sour taste in his mouth. The knowledge that the Jedi Order considered love to be worse than worthless but downright destructive rankled on a very deep level. Yoda had obviously never known a true, deep love like he and Luke had. And he was sure that if they awakened him now and told him they were leaving to aid their friends, he would forbid them from going.
He curled his lip and powered the Angel's engines. If Yoda would rather see their friends die, so be it. But he wasn't going to sit back and do nothing simply because of some twisted Jedi theory.
The X-wing began to rise, and the Angel lifted off the ground to join it. Their starfighters soared above the clouds and into the jeweled blackness of space, their courses set for Bespin.
"Don't you think we should have at least left a note?" asked Luke. "I mean, Yoda's bound to be pretty concerned when he sees our bedrolls empty…"
"He's a Jedi," Vader replied brusquely. "He can find out where we are quick enough through the Force."
"I know. But he's still going to be worried…"
"As far as I'm concerned, he can stew."
"Yikes, you're touchy. What exactly did you two talk about last night?"
"Love. Or more accurately, the Jedi edict forbidding it."
A long pause. "I see."
The stars became swaths of light on either side as their ships penetrated hyperspace. Vader leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to quiet his mind and release his pent-up anger and confusion, but his thoughts wouldn't be still.
/A Jedi shall not know discouragement, nor despair, nor love. A Jedi shall not know love. There is no emotion, there is peace. But what kind of life is that? A life where you're not allowed to form bonds of friendship, where devotion of any kind except to the Force is considered dangerous? Is that really the kind of life I want?/
"Father, if you think any louder, this entire sector's going to hear it," Luke chided. "You're angry with Master Yoda, aren't you?"
"No," he retorted quickly. "I'm just… frustrated with the Order. With that particular section of the Code. I know it's gotten me into trouble before, but still… I don't see the justification in it."
"I agree with you there," Luke sympathized. "Life would get pretty unbearable without friends. But don't take it out on Master Yoda. Sure he's old, but that part of the Code predates even his lifespan. It's not like he invented it to make our lives miserable."
"True." He closed his eyes again as his anger toward Yoda began to melt away. "True…"
…"How feel you?" Yoda asked him, a finger tapping his chin.
"Cold, sir," he replied truthfully. This room was kept at a temperature that was probably comfortable to anyone not from Tatooine, but he was shivering. He wished he were back home with his mother. He didn't like these Jedi staring at him like he was a bother.
"Your thoughts dwell on your mother," noted an alien Jedi whose name he didn't know, a humanoid with a beard and a tall, hairless, cone-shaped skull.
"I miss her," he mumbled, staring at the floor.
"Fear for her you do," Yoda persisted.
"What does that have to do with anything?" he demanded, wishing these Jedi would stop probing into his mind.
"Everything!" Yoda admonished. "Fear is the path that leads to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering!" He nodded gravely, his green eyes narrowing. "I sense much fear in you."
He lowered his head in shame, angry that they had invaded the privacy of his thoughts and feelings, angry that they were acting as if he were somehow bad for missing his mom and worrying for her safety…
He shuddered as the memory faded. "Not again…"
"Another flashback?" asked Luke, sounding eager to hear it.
"I'm not telling you this one," he insisted.
"Why not?" demanded Luke.
"Just don't ask," he said forcefully, feeling his face flush. "Even I deserve some privacy in my thoughts."
Luke was silent, evidently deciding to drop the matter.
Vader said nothing else for the duration for the trip. He felt as if he might explode if he opened his mouth one more time. The foreboding and anxiety generated by his vision of Han and Forenze's pain was bad enough, and now he had to deal with feelings of anger toward Yoda and the Jedi Code as well! The turbulent emotions burned sullenly in the pit of his stomach, like a banked ember just waiting for a breath of oxygen or a stick of kindling to flare up again.
He tried his best to ignore that knot of anger… and the encroaching darkness that seemed to gain its strength from it.
/By the stars/ he thought, /first the wampa, then the flashbacks, now this… am I becoming what I had hoped to destroy?/
--------
Yoda watched the glowing specks that were the departing starfighters of his Padawans fade into the clouds from the doorway of his hut, unnoticed and silent. The dark-side-induced nightmare had awakened him as well as his two apprentices, but unlike them he had recognized it as a trap. But something – he suspected the Force-spirit of Qui-gon, but he couldn't be sure – had held him back from warning Luke and Vader.
Why he was forbidden from interfering, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it had been a test for the Skywalkers. It wasn't healthy to coddle an apprentice; some trials they had to overcome on their own. But such tests were just as trying on the masters as they were on the Padawans, for it was difficult to simply sit back and watch a trainee struggle on his or her own, make mistakes and learn the consequences, and sometimes even fail.
He lowered his head regretfully. If this were truly a test, the Skywalkers had failed miserably. And that weighed heavily upon his heart.
/Don't be so sure of their failure, Yoda/ Obi-wan told him kindly. /I've seen those boys do some remarkable things. Perhaps they can deal the Sith a good fight./
"Too much faith you place in them," Yoda snapped. "Told the entire Order you did that the salvation of the Order those two were – and look now. Gone they are. Their greatest weakness their friends were, and quick to exploit it the Emperor was. Told you I did that a bad idea this was."
/Have a little faith, you old skeptic/ chided Obi-wan.
Yoda looked back up at the sky, at a stray patch of clear sky. "Tested greatly they will be. Especially Vader. Lose him again we may."
/But aren't all Jedi tested? Yoda, you must have faith that they will take the right path. After all, they're our last hope./
"No," corrected Yoda. "There is another."
------
The cell door hissed open, and the troopers flung Han Solo's limp, sweat-soaked body onto the steel floor of the cell before leaving. Blinded with agony, Han barely had the strength to groan in pain, let alone acknowledge Chewie's frantic howl or Threepio's complaints that the Wookie was doing a shoddy job of reassembling him.
"What the stang? You too? Who's next, High Command?"
Han groaned again, this time from a different sort of pain. The last person he wanted to share a cell with was that crabby medical officer.
"Get him up on the bench, Chewie," Forenze ordered. "I'll see what I can do for him."
Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She was a doctor, after all.
Furry arms gripped him and hoisted him up like a rag doll, depositing him gently on the metal cot. He felt cool clawed hands carefully open his shirt and examine his chest for wounds. He hissed as she gingerly felt his cracked ribs. And he could have wept with joy when he felt Leia's soft comforting lips on his cheek.
"I feel terrible," he moaned.
"You look terrible," Forenze agreed a little too quickly.
He managed to focus his eyes enough to see her face more clearly. "You don't look so good yourself, birdbeak."
"I didn't ask for commentary!" she snapped, one hand clapping over her blackened, swollen-shut left eye.
"Why are they doing this?" asked Leia, not expecting an answer. Her hair had worked itself loose from its braids and now stood out at bizarre angles, but if the Imperials had roughed her up too, she showed no other sign of it. Her pain seemed to come more from seeing him in agony.
/Stang, how did I get so lucky?/ he thought with a well-deserved twinge of happiness. /She really does love me!/
Chewie whimpered slightly. Han didn't even ask what he'd been through but clung to the Woookie in a fervent embrace, seeking comfort and giving it all at once.
"Han?"
He snarled, not bothering to turn. "Go away, Lando."
Lando ignored him. A few of Cloud City's security guards followed him into the cell. "I have some bad news."
"Since when have you been able to offer us anything besides that?" demanded Leia.
"Look, this is not my fault!" Lando insisted. "When the Emperor wants something, he gets it, by hook or by crook. That's all there is to it. And I'm not going to have my people suffer when I can do something to prevent it."
"Spit out the bad news and get it over with," Han advised.
"Darth Kain and the Emperor are going to turn Han over to the bounty hunter."
Han winced. Well, he'd asked. And he'd known he'd have to face Jabba sometime. But he'd always thought it would be on his own terms, with a box full of credits to appease his temper and a gun by his side to ward off his hostile cohorts.
"What about Leia?" he asked.
"She'll be fine. She and the two aliens will have to stay here, but they'll be safe. I'll take good care of them, I promise."
"And you really believe all this poodoo?" snapped Forenze.
"The Emperor made a deal…" Lando protested.
"The Emperor wants us all dead!" Leia shouted.
"He doesn't want any of you!" Lando retorted. "He's after somebody called…" He searched his memory for the name. "…Skywalker!"
That took Han's breath away as surely as a blow to the stomach. "Luke!"
"He and Kain have set a trap for him…" Lando explained.
"And we're the friggin' bait!" shrieked Forenze.
"Look, I'm sorry I can't help you any more, but I've got my own problems!"
Han lunged, his fist catching Lando's jaw before a blaster butt to his temple drove him back to the floor. Chewie hovered protectively over him and snarled at the guards.
"I guess we know where your loyalties lie," Leia remarked coldly.
Lando didn't reply but stormed out of the cell, muttering, "This deal keeps getting worse all the time."