Author's notes: I was suppose to post this yesterday, but Fanfiction.net
was down, so you're getting it a little later than I had planned. There's
a lot of grief, confusion, and a little bit of comic relief in this one.
Big thanks to all the people who review regularly, and to Shezan for helping get the mistakes out of this story.
But, I digress. Here it is, even longer than the last chapter:
Broken Wings Chapter Six
This is not happening. I'm going to wake up in the barracks on Dantooine and this will all have been a bad dream.
Biggs strained against the shackles binding him to the wall behind him. It was pointless, he knew, but it felt better than simply sitting around waiting for an imperial officer to come and begin their interrogations, or worse, waiting for Darth Vader. The guards that had brought them to the cell had hinted that the Sith lord was on board. His first encounter with the Dark Lord of the Sith, and the loss of his best friend had filled him with fear for years to come. Horror and hopelessness began to fill his soul, threatening to control him.
No, he wouldn't allow himself to be intimidated. The guards had just been trying to scare them. What were the chances that of all the ships in the Imperial Fleet, Vader would be on this one? He wasn't going to allow that tactic to succeed. If Vader walked into the cell, then he would begin to worry. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only tactic they seemed to have in mind.
He knew why he had been put in the same detention cell as his friends. The imperials thought that they would be more likely to give in if they had to watch their friends suffer. Would he? He wasn't certain. If they began to torture Brake or Jarru, or even the Wookiee he barely knew, would he give in? Not that it mattered. They didn't know anything that would be of any use to the Empire. Unfortunately, he doubted that the imperial officers sent to interrogate them would believe that.
He almost wished he had died in the battle, just like...
Oh hell, Coric. You always said you were willing to give your life for a just cause. Looks like you got your chance.
The Empire has taken too much from us, first, Luke and now, you, Coric. I swear I'll find a way to pay them back for all of this.
Biggs tried to keep himself from wallowing in grief for his friend, but it was hard. He had lost other squad-mates before, and it was never easy, but losing Coric was much worse. He had known the kind, stubborn, giant for nearly all of his life.
Biggs pulled his thoughts away from his lost friend. He would deal with the living before grieving for the dead.
He glanced around the cell. Jarru was leaning forward, with her head in her hands, lacking her usual air of angry confidence. She seemed to be lost in thought. He had to make certain she survived. Biggs knew that if Jarru died here, they would lose Tinker as well. He would never be able to live without her. They were closer than any two people Biggs had ever met. Sometimes they fought like siblings, sometimes they seemed almost as close as lovers, but he knew they couldn't live without each other. Jarru knew what would happen to Tinker if she didn't come back, and Biggs knew that nothing he could say would comfort her.
At the far end of the bench, Shanbara gave a low, sad moan, and shifted arms held by heavy duty binders. While Biggs couldn't even begin to decipher the Wookiee's exact words, her expression made her meaning clear. Shanbara, if anyone, knew what the Empire was capable of. The Empire's treatment of Wookiee slaves was well known among rebel cells.
Disturbed by the sound, Brake moaned slightly at Biggs' side. Biggs turned to his friend. Brake was leaning against the wall, his eyes glazed over.
When Biggs had been pulled from his X-Wings cockpit, the sight of a stormtrooper pointing a blaster rifle at Brake's head had been enough to convince him to cooperate. Jarru and Shanbara seemed to restrain themselves for the same reasons. Brake, however, had been the first one captured and he hadn't had the same incentive.
Judging from the black eye that the lieutenant in charge had been sporting, Brake had put up a pretty good fight. The imperial stormtroopers hadn't taken it easy on him, though. Brake was in bad shape. Biggs could tell he needed medical attention, and soon. Aside from what appeared to be a large number of fractures and bruises, Brake almost certainly had a concussion.
Seeing that Brake was starting to fall asleep, dangerous under these circumstances, Biggs gave him a nudge to wake him up. Growing up around Luke, with his recklessness and obvious poor judgment, Biggs had gotten a lot of practice with first aid. Luke had always had more bravery than brains.
Brake stirred, and looked towards Biggs, normally handsome features distorted by blood. He gaze was misty, and his eyes unfocused. "Where... where are... we?" he slurred.
"Just stay calm, Brake, that's all that matters." Biggs replied, trying to keep his own voice from shaking.
Brake glanced around the room. Jarru looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncharacteristic concern. Shanbara growled in what had to be a reassuring way.
"Where... is... Coric?" Brake asked, but Biggs could already see the dread in his eyes.
"He's dead."
Brake nodded, as if he already knew that.
Voices outside drew Biggs' attention from his friend. He saw Shanbara and Jarru look up as well, straining to hear.
"Yes, my lord," came the door guards voice. "We've done some preliminary questioning. They claim not to have been told the location of the base."
Lord? Lord Vader? Please, Force, no.
As the door slid open, Biggs feel his heart skip a beat, momentarily thinking his fears were confirmed at the sight of a black cloaked figure. He quickly realized that it couldn't be Vader, there was no mask, no dreaded sound of mechanized breathing.
"I'll determine that for myself," the cloaked man responded, turning away before the guard could even finish his expected expected answer, door sliding shut behind him, but by then Biggs wasn't listening to the guard.
The voice the man responded in definitely wasn't Vader's. It was a voice Biggs knew, more mature, but still the same sound he had heard in nightmares, calling out in fear in a hundred times.
It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was dead.
Blond hair and bright blue eyes confirmed Biggs' suspicions.
The man's frigid gaze searched the room quickly, skipping over the Wookiee, and then grew shocked. His eyes grew wider as he scanned each of their faces, his brow furrowed as if uncertain of what he was seeing. Biggs was certain. It had to be him.
"Luke?" he asked, and in response the man stepped forward, dropping down to look Biggs in the eyes. Biggs heard Jarru's gasp, and Shanbara's questioning bark, but he ignored them.
Blue eyes with dark shadows under them looked at him, searching his face. His gaze had lost its coldness. The pain looking back at Biggs in that face was almost too much to bare. Luke's brow furrowed again, as if trying to recall some distant memory.
"Biggs?" he asked, uncertain. "Is that you?"
"Luke!" He didn't know what to say, what to think. "I thought they'd killed you."
He let out half a laugh, mirthless and unnatural sounding, almost as if he was out of practice. He raised his gloved hand for a second, close to Biggs' face and than dropped it.
"I suppose in a way they did." There was such pain and hopelessness in Luke's response that Biggs wanted to reach out to him.
Luke backed away suddenly, his gazed flicked to Jarru, registering recognition almost immediately, and then to Brake, who lay half conscious against the wall. Biggs got the impression of a blast door closing. When Luke's eyes returned to Biggs, they were as cold as a desert night. There was no trace of the boy he had known.
"You joined the rebellion." It was clearly a statement, not a question. Luke seemed to regard them with something approaching malice.
Luke had joined the Empire. What had he been given, promised, that would make him betray all of his youthful ideals? No, that didn't seem right. It did not fit with the torment he had seen reflected in Luke's eyes.
"Luke, what happened to you? What did they do to you?" Biggs asked, and watched emotions war on Luke's face, a fleeting crack in the blast door, that quickly vanished.
"They trained me," he replied, deadpan.
"Trained you?" Biggs asked, terrified of what Luke's answer would be.
"Trained me as a Sith. I am Vader's apprentice," Luke responded, calm and cold, seemingly detached.
Biggs' eyes widened in disbelief, his thoughts spinning. Luke was a Sith? The guard outside had called Luke, "my lord." So when Vader had come to Tatooine it hadn't been to finish the Jedi purge, but to find an heir. Luke was Darth Vader's heir.
His best friend regarded him with irritatingly cold, and collected calm. It looked like was waiting for Biggs to reach the obvious conclusion. Luke had been sent there to interrogate them. But Luke couldn't have known it was them, Biggs saw the surprise on his face when he recognized them. He couldn't have known. How did Sith interrogate people anyway?
Biggs opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off by Jerru's enraged scream.
"You Bastard! We gave up everything to join the rebellion! To avenge you! And you've been working for them, for Vader, all this time? Coric died for this!" she screamed. Shanbara growled loudly. Biggs could tell that they were both looking for some vent to the anger and confusion they all felt.
Jarru's outburst had a profound effect on Luke. He staggered backwards and sat down onto the bench opposite Biggs. He didn't respond for a while. Once again the coldness was gone, the blast door open, the frigid confidence replaced by scared, confused innocence... and pain.
"He's dead? How?" Luke asked quietly. He was almost whispering.
His reaction seemed to calm Jarru a little, or at least reduce her to similar confusion, but it did not kill the vehemence in her voice entirely. "His X-Wing was shot down by one of those imperial TIE fighters."
"When?" he asked simply.
Biggs decided that he had better answer that one. Jarru looked like she was gearing herself up for another outburst. "During the skirmish. He was about to jump to hyperspace when a TIE shot him down."
Luke nodded, his eyes on the floor. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Once or twice he looked up to regard Brake, who was still slumped semi-conscious against the wall, looking at Luke as if he wasn't quiet certain who he was. Biggs got the impression that Luke was trying to decide what to do with them.
He finely stood, took them all in with a single look, and then pressed the control panel to open the door. As Luke stepped out, Biggs heard him address the guard.
"Did you hear any of that?" he asked in a tone of voice that demanded response and obedience.
"S-some of it, my lord," came the guards fearful reply.
"No, you didn't," Luke said, in the same tone of voice.
"I didn't," the guard replied, his voice now completely monotone.
Biggs shuddered. He had a fairly good idea of what had happened between Luke and the guard and it made him uneasy to say the least, almost as uneasy as the knowledge of what had become of his best friend.
"Force, Luke, what did they do to you?" he mumbled to himself. It was painful to think that this troubled man was once the boy he had played and laughed with for so long.
Shanbara growled a question, which Biggs understood.
"I'll... I'll explain later, okay? Just not now." He was relived at the Wookiee's bark of acceptance.
"It would have been easier if he really was dead, at least then we'd still have our convictions," Jarru said through unshed tears.
"No," Biggs said, "We still do. What happened to Luke, whatever it was, is only proof that the Empire has to be destroyed." When she looked at him, questioning, he continued. "He's in pain. Look at him. What do you think it took to turn that kid we knew into that?
"He was right. In a way, they did kill him."
*^*^*^*^*
As Luke turned away from the cell guard, he felt a strange burning in his eyes. He brought his hand up to his face, and then pulled it away suddenly. His hand was covered in tears. Shocked and deeply disturbed he turned from the cell block and beat a quick path to his quarters.
*^*^*^*^*
Vader sat in his meditation chamber, having given up on actually meditating. He could feel an unpleasant amount of frustration coming from his son, among other emotions of doubt and confusion. The boy, as far as he could tell, was in the sparring chamber, clearly taking out this new found emotion on some droids.
Vader didn't like what he was feeling from the boy. It was fluctuating, unstable, and extremely out of character. The boy was almost always completely controlled, or at the very least emotionally numb, something that suited Vader just fine since the Emperor had forbidden him from teaching the boy how to shield his thoughts or feelings. The emotions that the boy did transfer through the Force were invariably either anger, or, more rarely, fear, and the latter only came when Luke was brought before the Emperor himself, and never under any other circumstances.
Like so many other things the Emperor tried to rule the boy through fear. He thought to acquire Luke's loyalty though terror of further pain. To some extant he had succeeded. The boy never even considered betraying them or attempting to escape anymore. He obeyed without question. Vader was at least... pleased that the part of Luke's training that the Emperor had overseen was almost over. Listening to his son's metal screams had been... unpleasant.
But Palpatine had overlooked one thing. While the boy the boy feared him, he truly owed loyalty to Vader. He had, after all, never harmed the boy. He had protected the boy as best he could without challenging his master, and Luke knew this. If Palpatine thought to replace his loyal servant with the boy, Vader knew that Luke would come to his defense, if for no other reason than to be given a chance to repay Palpatine for ten years of pain. If of course, the boy could find the courage to face his tormentor...
However brutal, the results of the training that Palpatine had given the boy were obvious. He had learned quickly, amazingly so. So quickly in fact, that Palpatine had chosen to slow the boy's progression, lest he become too powerful too quickly to be controlled, and Luke's Force strength wasn't the only side effect of this training. His mind was alarmingly, or perhaps unnaturally, focused. When the boy was given a task, he devoted himself entirely to it. There was never any room for outside thoughts or feelings. When the boy wasn't engaged in a task of some sort, either as a result of an assignment, or his own interest, he slept. Lately Luke had been sleeping more and more often. He seemed less inclined to pursue the things that had fascinated so much when he was younger, fascinations that Vader had always indulged. Vader suspected that this pattern had emerged as a defense by which Luke could be assured some privacy within his own mind. Palpatine had punished the boy for errant thoughts on many occasions. Vader had also begun to note a creeping sense of despair in his son. Something that was slowly beginning to concern him, though the boy himself seemed unaware of it.
The boy's usual mental focus was one of the reasons that Vader found this sudden new pattern of of thought and behavior unnerving. Though it had seemed to have purged some of the listlessness from the boy, and brought him further strength in the darkside, Vader knew that it could be leading to something far more... unpleasant for his son.
Vader tried to trace the emergence of this feeling in his son. He was convinced it had something to do with the princess. It was not long after Luke had been sent to escort her to her cell that the feelings had begun. Perhaps he had been in error to allow the boy to meet the young senator. He was, after all, still young, and the princess, in both appearance and attitude, too closely reminded Vader of another royal turned senator.
Vader checked the computer console at his side. The only actions his son had taken since escorting the princess to her cell, had been to visit the rebel pilots he was suppose to interrogate, and also, curiously, to order medical attention for one of the prisoners.
Rising from his seat, Vader strode to the door that lead to the sparring chamber. He pressed his hand to the control panel to open the door. Inside his son stood amid the wrecked remains of several sparring droids, ruby-red lightsaber in hand. There were four droids remaining, and his son was holding them off with apparent ease, his frustration adding to his anger, and his anger to his power in the force. The droids themselves were armed with lightsabers, but that seemed to make little difference, as the boy ducked under one swinging blade and then stepped up to decapitate the attacking droid.
Vader stood for a time, watching his son. Perhaps it was not such as bad thing if contact with this princess had cleared the boy of his indifference, and allowed him to reach such a level of skill.
"Yes, Father?" Luke said, not taking his eyes off his opponents.
"Have you begun the interrogations?" Vader asked.
"No, not yet" the boy answered as he parried a strike from one robot and then ducked an attack from another.
"The detention level records seem to indicate otherwise," Vader rumbled, inwardly pleased at the boy's improving skill.
"The stormtroopers..." Luke charged into an aggressive assault on one of the droids. "...took the liberty..." A quick strike knocked the droid off balance. "...of softening up... the leader." He sliced the droid in half and turned to meet another attack. "He was in need... of..." The last two droids were coordinating their attacks. "Immediate... medical assistance..." The boy focused on one of his opponents, driving it backwards with a series or brutal slashes. "...and I can't interrogate him..." He made it through the droid's defenses and sliced it down the center. "...if... he's..." He turned around in just to face the last droid's attack. He didn't raised his lightsaber instead he raised a gloved hand. "...dead!" The droid went flying backwards across the room to impact with the wall, leaving a sizable dent, and falling to the floor, crushed by the sheer strength of the attack.
Luke stood there for a few moments, panting. Vader could tell feel the negative emotions, that had brought Luke such strength, beginning to dissipate as the boy began to calm, his frustration spent.
Vader studied him. What the boy had just told him had been at least partially true. It seemed that his inability to speedily complete the task which he had been assigned was a great departure from routine for the boy and part of the source of the boy's frustration. Though it now seemed to Vader that a large part of that anger was aimed inwardly, at the boy himself. Perhaps the boy took this inability to complete the task as a source of personal failure. That would not be entirely surprising, he had always been hard on himself.
"I'm going to go inspect those ships we captured. Those X-Wings are a new design and I'd like to know why they're so effective against our TIE fighters," Luke said once he had regained his breath.
Or perhaps not...
The princess was certainly involved, but so were the other rebels, and the task of interrogating them. Whatever it had been, it was having a profound effect on the boy. When Luke had been younger he had always demonstrated a vast fascination with ships, but that had recently begun to ebb. Vader decided to leave the boy be for the time. He would keep an eye on him, ready to interfere if it seemed that something was going wrong.
When Vader nodded his assent, the boy turned away, heading to the door that lead to his own quarters.
*^*^*^*^*
Luke stepped from his quarters and walked with quick strides to the hangar where the X-Wings were being kept. He had cleaned himself and changed his clothing, and only now, that he was on his way, he allowed himself to consider what had happened between himself and his father in the sparring chamber. He had actually deceived Darth Vader. The thought terrified him. He had never been capable of lying to either the Emperor, or his father. He wasn't certain how, but for some reason his father had failed to sense the half-truth he had told.
He was, in fact, intending to study the captured X-Wings, but not because of any interest in the design. His true intentions were half formed, and rooted in the painful confrontation with three of his childhood companions. He was shaken to his core by the encounter. A painful and unfamiliar feeling of guilt tried to worm its way into his mind, but he brushed it off, buried it under anger. A fresh surge of frustration welled up from inside him.
He had ordered medical care for Brake and tried to justify it to himself the way he had explained it to his father. He couldn't interrogate him if he was dead. But the more he thought those words, the more they rang false.
One day, one simple mission had unseated him more than any number of battles and assassinations ever could. It had begun when he had glimpsed the princess with that R2 droid. He had watched her until she slipped out of sight, then he had taken the plans from the R2 unit and cleared its memory but not before... His hand went instinctively to the pocket that had held the datacard, but of course it wasn't there anymore, he had hidden it in his quarters. What had possessed him?
Once again he forced that thought from his mind. It was too dangerous to think about.
Instead his thoughts wandered back to the princess. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He was bothered by the knowledge that she would suffer for the rebels. He could see her resolve and he knew that she would not give in easily. Why was she willing to sacrifice so much for these people, these traitors?
From there his thoughts moved on to the rebel pilots. He was suppose to interrogate them. He wasn't certain that he could. He didn't dare refuse the task he had been given, and he doubted that he would be so lucky as to succeed in deceiving his father again. What had they had told him...
Coric
He violently pushed that train of thought away as a fresh surge of guilt struck him. He felt dizzied by his own chaotic thoughts. He strode into the hangar and was pulled from his internal struggles by a very loud external, argument.
An unfamiliar ship sat near the captured X-Wings. It was vaguely circular, and very ugly. It looked as if someone had cobbled in together out of space debris. In front of the ship, a shady looking human man and a large Wookiee were arguing with an officer and his accompanying stormtroopers.
"Look, for the last time, we're not smugglers. We carry cargo and passengers. You've already searched my ship, how much more poof do you want?" the man was complaining to the officer, sounding as sincere as someone who looked that disreputable was capable of sounding. He was also lying through his teeth.
The Wookiee added a loud bark to argument, Luke didn't speak Wookiee, nor did the officer for that matter, but he certainly looked intimidated, despite the line of stormtroopers at his back.
"Procedure clearly states..." the officer began, only to be cut off by the smuggler.
"I don't care about procedure, I want my ship back!" the man practically yelled.
Why? Luke wondered in amusement. He walked passed the small group, perfectly willing to let them sort it out for themselves, but the officer sighted him, and obviously not wanting to deal with the annoying smuggler himself, called out.
"My lord!"
Amusement quickly turned to irritation at having been delayed. Luke turned towards he officer and strode forward. "Yes," Luke glanced down at the rank cylinders on the man's shirt. "Lieutenant?" he said in a displeased tone of voice.
Now that Luke's attention was focused on him, the officer seemed much less sure of himself, but he stood stiffly at attention and delivered his report. "We intercepted this man's ship leaving an area known to be under the control of a notorious gangster. I believe that he is a smuggler in service to this criminal, but we did not find any evidence on board his... vessel," the Lieutenant concluded.
Luke regarded the smuggler from within the shadows of his hood. The man was trying to appear cocky, but Luke's sudden arrival had unsettled him. He was already worried, he had dumped his cargo when the Star Destroyer had appeared. He smirked at Luke, while shifting his posture slightly, trying to get a look inside his cowl. Something about his attitude irritated Luke further.
"Look," the man began, still wearing that infuriating smirk, "I'm sure we can sort this out..."
Luke had heard enough. "He's a smuggler. He dropped his cargo when Devastator appeared. Take him, and the Wookiee to the brig." Luke glanced at the smuggler's suddenly shocked expression with satisfaction. The stormtroopers closed on the two outlaws, binders in hand. Luke had begun to walk away when he heard the Wookiee menacing growl, and the officer's yell.
Luke turned back to see the Wookiee holding one of the troopers, while his startled companion tried to clam him. It didn't appear to be working. It seemed that the Wookiee really didn't want to be taken prisoner.
Luke watched the ensuing chaos for a moment before interfering. His limited patience was at an end. He put his arm out, focused his anger, grasped the Force and used it to first pull the unfortunate stormtrooper from the Wookiee's strangle hold, and then slam the Wookiee into the wall and hold him there.
A stunned silence descended over the combatants. Few people saw the Force used in their lifetimes. The officer and stormtroopers stopped in place, save for the one laying on the ground gasping for air. The human smuggler just stared in open astonishment, while the Wookiee growled and barked in confusion.
"Whoa, whoa, Chewie, calm down okay," the smuggler said, before slowly turning to to Luke and swallowing noticeably. "Look, ah, do ya think you could let him down now, maybe?" he asked with fear in his eyes. Luke was astonished. That had been more bravery then he was expecting the man to demonstrate on the Wookiee's behalf. The Wookiee moaned miserably. In response Luke released his Force hold on the creature. The Wookiee fell to the ground and the stormtroopers rushed in to restrain him before he regained his senses. The smuggler himself pulled his blaster out of the holster at his side and place it on the ground, raising his arms and backing away when he was done. Some stormtroopers stepped forward to place binders on him as well.
"T-thank you, my lord," the officer stuttered. Luke didn't respond, making his displeasure at having been bothered for such a trivial task clear though the Force. The Lieutenant grew pale at the perceptible feelings of malevolence and suddenly decided he had tasks to complete elsewhere.
Luke watched them all. The smuggler had been honestly concerned for his companion, and though Luke could still feel the man's fear, and his unwillingness to part with his ship, he was ready to give that up so that the alien wouldn't be harmed. Luke was unsure what to make of it. He watched as the two captives were escorted away.
Great, he though to himself, more prisoners to deal with.
Luke shook his head and turned back to the X-Wings.
See you for the next installment! And write a review while you're here!
Big thanks to all the people who review regularly, and to Shezan for helping get the mistakes out of this story.
But, I digress. Here it is, even longer than the last chapter:
Broken Wings Chapter Six
This is not happening. I'm going to wake up in the barracks on Dantooine and this will all have been a bad dream.
Biggs strained against the shackles binding him to the wall behind him. It was pointless, he knew, but it felt better than simply sitting around waiting for an imperial officer to come and begin their interrogations, or worse, waiting for Darth Vader. The guards that had brought them to the cell had hinted that the Sith lord was on board. His first encounter with the Dark Lord of the Sith, and the loss of his best friend had filled him with fear for years to come. Horror and hopelessness began to fill his soul, threatening to control him.
No, he wouldn't allow himself to be intimidated. The guards had just been trying to scare them. What were the chances that of all the ships in the Imperial Fleet, Vader would be on this one? He wasn't going to allow that tactic to succeed. If Vader walked into the cell, then he would begin to worry. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only tactic they seemed to have in mind.
He knew why he had been put in the same detention cell as his friends. The imperials thought that they would be more likely to give in if they had to watch their friends suffer. Would he? He wasn't certain. If they began to torture Brake or Jarru, or even the Wookiee he barely knew, would he give in? Not that it mattered. They didn't know anything that would be of any use to the Empire. Unfortunately, he doubted that the imperial officers sent to interrogate them would believe that.
He almost wished he had died in the battle, just like...
Oh hell, Coric. You always said you were willing to give your life for a just cause. Looks like you got your chance.
The Empire has taken too much from us, first, Luke and now, you, Coric. I swear I'll find a way to pay them back for all of this.
Biggs tried to keep himself from wallowing in grief for his friend, but it was hard. He had lost other squad-mates before, and it was never easy, but losing Coric was much worse. He had known the kind, stubborn, giant for nearly all of his life.
Biggs pulled his thoughts away from his lost friend. He would deal with the living before grieving for the dead.
He glanced around the cell. Jarru was leaning forward, with her head in her hands, lacking her usual air of angry confidence. She seemed to be lost in thought. He had to make certain she survived. Biggs knew that if Jarru died here, they would lose Tinker as well. He would never be able to live without her. They were closer than any two people Biggs had ever met. Sometimes they fought like siblings, sometimes they seemed almost as close as lovers, but he knew they couldn't live without each other. Jarru knew what would happen to Tinker if she didn't come back, and Biggs knew that nothing he could say would comfort her.
At the far end of the bench, Shanbara gave a low, sad moan, and shifted arms held by heavy duty binders. While Biggs couldn't even begin to decipher the Wookiee's exact words, her expression made her meaning clear. Shanbara, if anyone, knew what the Empire was capable of. The Empire's treatment of Wookiee slaves was well known among rebel cells.
Disturbed by the sound, Brake moaned slightly at Biggs' side. Biggs turned to his friend. Brake was leaning against the wall, his eyes glazed over.
When Biggs had been pulled from his X-Wings cockpit, the sight of a stormtrooper pointing a blaster rifle at Brake's head had been enough to convince him to cooperate. Jarru and Shanbara seemed to restrain themselves for the same reasons. Brake, however, had been the first one captured and he hadn't had the same incentive.
Judging from the black eye that the lieutenant in charge had been sporting, Brake had put up a pretty good fight. The imperial stormtroopers hadn't taken it easy on him, though. Brake was in bad shape. Biggs could tell he needed medical attention, and soon. Aside from what appeared to be a large number of fractures and bruises, Brake almost certainly had a concussion.
Seeing that Brake was starting to fall asleep, dangerous under these circumstances, Biggs gave him a nudge to wake him up. Growing up around Luke, with his recklessness and obvious poor judgment, Biggs had gotten a lot of practice with first aid. Luke had always had more bravery than brains.
Brake stirred, and looked towards Biggs, normally handsome features distorted by blood. He gaze was misty, and his eyes unfocused. "Where... where are... we?" he slurred.
"Just stay calm, Brake, that's all that matters." Biggs replied, trying to keep his own voice from shaking.
Brake glanced around the room. Jarru looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncharacteristic concern. Shanbara growled in what had to be a reassuring way.
"Where... is... Coric?" Brake asked, but Biggs could already see the dread in his eyes.
"He's dead."
Brake nodded, as if he already knew that.
Voices outside drew Biggs' attention from his friend. He saw Shanbara and Jarru look up as well, straining to hear.
"Yes, my lord," came the door guards voice. "We've done some preliminary questioning. They claim not to have been told the location of the base."
Lord? Lord Vader? Please, Force, no.
As the door slid open, Biggs feel his heart skip a beat, momentarily thinking his fears were confirmed at the sight of a black cloaked figure. He quickly realized that it couldn't be Vader, there was no mask, no dreaded sound of mechanized breathing.
"I'll determine that for myself," the cloaked man responded, turning away before the guard could even finish his expected expected answer, door sliding shut behind him, but by then Biggs wasn't listening to the guard.
The voice the man responded in definitely wasn't Vader's. It was a voice Biggs knew, more mature, but still the same sound he had heard in nightmares, calling out in fear in a hundred times.
It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was dead.
Blond hair and bright blue eyes confirmed Biggs' suspicions.
The man's frigid gaze searched the room quickly, skipping over the Wookiee, and then grew shocked. His eyes grew wider as he scanned each of their faces, his brow furrowed as if uncertain of what he was seeing. Biggs was certain. It had to be him.
"Luke?" he asked, and in response the man stepped forward, dropping down to look Biggs in the eyes. Biggs heard Jarru's gasp, and Shanbara's questioning bark, but he ignored them.
Blue eyes with dark shadows under them looked at him, searching his face. His gaze had lost its coldness. The pain looking back at Biggs in that face was almost too much to bare. Luke's brow furrowed again, as if trying to recall some distant memory.
"Biggs?" he asked, uncertain. "Is that you?"
"Luke!" He didn't know what to say, what to think. "I thought they'd killed you."
He let out half a laugh, mirthless and unnatural sounding, almost as if he was out of practice. He raised his gloved hand for a second, close to Biggs' face and than dropped it.
"I suppose in a way they did." There was such pain and hopelessness in Luke's response that Biggs wanted to reach out to him.
Luke backed away suddenly, his gazed flicked to Jarru, registering recognition almost immediately, and then to Brake, who lay half conscious against the wall. Biggs got the impression of a blast door closing. When Luke's eyes returned to Biggs, they were as cold as a desert night. There was no trace of the boy he had known.
"You joined the rebellion." It was clearly a statement, not a question. Luke seemed to regard them with something approaching malice.
Luke had joined the Empire. What had he been given, promised, that would make him betray all of his youthful ideals? No, that didn't seem right. It did not fit with the torment he had seen reflected in Luke's eyes.
"Luke, what happened to you? What did they do to you?" Biggs asked, and watched emotions war on Luke's face, a fleeting crack in the blast door, that quickly vanished.
"They trained me," he replied, deadpan.
"Trained you?" Biggs asked, terrified of what Luke's answer would be.
"Trained me as a Sith. I am Vader's apprentice," Luke responded, calm and cold, seemingly detached.
Biggs' eyes widened in disbelief, his thoughts spinning. Luke was a Sith? The guard outside had called Luke, "my lord." So when Vader had come to Tatooine it hadn't been to finish the Jedi purge, but to find an heir. Luke was Darth Vader's heir.
His best friend regarded him with irritatingly cold, and collected calm. It looked like was waiting for Biggs to reach the obvious conclusion. Luke had been sent there to interrogate them. But Luke couldn't have known it was them, Biggs saw the surprise on his face when he recognized them. He couldn't have known. How did Sith interrogate people anyway?
Biggs opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off by Jerru's enraged scream.
"You Bastard! We gave up everything to join the rebellion! To avenge you! And you've been working for them, for Vader, all this time? Coric died for this!" she screamed. Shanbara growled loudly. Biggs could tell that they were both looking for some vent to the anger and confusion they all felt.
Jarru's outburst had a profound effect on Luke. He staggered backwards and sat down onto the bench opposite Biggs. He didn't respond for a while. Once again the coldness was gone, the blast door open, the frigid confidence replaced by scared, confused innocence... and pain.
"He's dead? How?" Luke asked quietly. He was almost whispering.
His reaction seemed to calm Jarru a little, or at least reduce her to similar confusion, but it did not kill the vehemence in her voice entirely. "His X-Wing was shot down by one of those imperial TIE fighters."
"When?" he asked simply.
Biggs decided that he had better answer that one. Jarru looked like she was gearing herself up for another outburst. "During the skirmish. He was about to jump to hyperspace when a TIE shot him down."
Luke nodded, his eyes on the floor. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Once or twice he looked up to regard Brake, who was still slumped semi-conscious against the wall, looking at Luke as if he wasn't quiet certain who he was. Biggs got the impression that Luke was trying to decide what to do with them.
He finely stood, took them all in with a single look, and then pressed the control panel to open the door. As Luke stepped out, Biggs heard him address the guard.
"Did you hear any of that?" he asked in a tone of voice that demanded response and obedience.
"S-some of it, my lord," came the guards fearful reply.
"No, you didn't," Luke said, in the same tone of voice.
"I didn't," the guard replied, his voice now completely monotone.
Biggs shuddered. He had a fairly good idea of what had happened between Luke and the guard and it made him uneasy to say the least, almost as uneasy as the knowledge of what had become of his best friend.
"Force, Luke, what did they do to you?" he mumbled to himself. It was painful to think that this troubled man was once the boy he had played and laughed with for so long.
Shanbara growled a question, which Biggs understood.
"I'll... I'll explain later, okay? Just not now." He was relived at the Wookiee's bark of acceptance.
"It would have been easier if he really was dead, at least then we'd still have our convictions," Jarru said through unshed tears.
"No," Biggs said, "We still do. What happened to Luke, whatever it was, is only proof that the Empire has to be destroyed." When she looked at him, questioning, he continued. "He's in pain. Look at him. What do you think it took to turn that kid we knew into that?
"He was right. In a way, they did kill him."
*^*^*^*^*
As Luke turned away from the cell guard, he felt a strange burning in his eyes. He brought his hand up to his face, and then pulled it away suddenly. His hand was covered in tears. Shocked and deeply disturbed he turned from the cell block and beat a quick path to his quarters.
*^*^*^*^*
Vader sat in his meditation chamber, having given up on actually meditating. He could feel an unpleasant amount of frustration coming from his son, among other emotions of doubt and confusion. The boy, as far as he could tell, was in the sparring chamber, clearly taking out this new found emotion on some droids.
Vader didn't like what he was feeling from the boy. It was fluctuating, unstable, and extremely out of character. The boy was almost always completely controlled, or at the very least emotionally numb, something that suited Vader just fine since the Emperor had forbidden him from teaching the boy how to shield his thoughts or feelings. The emotions that the boy did transfer through the Force were invariably either anger, or, more rarely, fear, and the latter only came when Luke was brought before the Emperor himself, and never under any other circumstances.
Like so many other things the Emperor tried to rule the boy through fear. He thought to acquire Luke's loyalty though terror of further pain. To some extant he had succeeded. The boy never even considered betraying them or attempting to escape anymore. He obeyed without question. Vader was at least... pleased that the part of Luke's training that the Emperor had overseen was almost over. Listening to his son's metal screams had been... unpleasant.
But Palpatine had overlooked one thing. While the boy the boy feared him, he truly owed loyalty to Vader. He had, after all, never harmed the boy. He had protected the boy as best he could without challenging his master, and Luke knew this. If Palpatine thought to replace his loyal servant with the boy, Vader knew that Luke would come to his defense, if for no other reason than to be given a chance to repay Palpatine for ten years of pain. If of course, the boy could find the courage to face his tormentor...
However brutal, the results of the training that Palpatine had given the boy were obvious. He had learned quickly, amazingly so. So quickly in fact, that Palpatine had chosen to slow the boy's progression, lest he become too powerful too quickly to be controlled, and Luke's Force strength wasn't the only side effect of this training. His mind was alarmingly, or perhaps unnaturally, focused. When the boy was given a task, he devoted himself entirely to it. There was never any room for outside thoughts or feelings. When the boy wasn't engaged in a task of some sort, either as a result of an assignment, or his own interest, he slept. Lately Luke had been sleeping more and more often. He seemed less inclined to pursue the things that had fascinated so much when he was younger, fascinations that Vader had always indulged. Vader suspected that this pattern had emerged as a defense by which Luke could be assured some privacy within his own mind. Palpatine had punished the boy for errant thoughts on many occasions. Vader had also begun to note a creeping sense of despair in his son. Something that was slowly beginning to concern him, though the boy himself seemed unaware of it.
The boy's usual mental focus was one of the reasons that Vader found this sudden new pattern of of thought and behavior unnerving. Though it had seemed to have purged some of the listlessness from the boy, and brought him further strength in the darkside, Vader knew that it could be leading to something far more... unpleasant for his son.
Vader tried to trace the emergence of this feeling in his son. He was convinced it had something to do with the princess. It was not long after Luke had been sent to escort her to her cell that the feelings had begun. Perhaps he had been in error to allow the boy to meet the young senator. He was, after all, still young, and the princess, in both appearance and attitude, too closely reminded Vader of another royal turned senator.
Vader checked the computer console at his side. The only actions his son had taken since escorting the princess to her cell, had been to visit the rebel pilots he was suppose to interrogate, and also, curiously, to order medical attention for one of the prisoners.
Rising from his seat, Vader strode to the door that lead to the sparring chamber. He pressed his hand to the control panel to open the door. Inside his son stood amid the wrecked remains of several sparring droids, ruby-red lightsaber in hand. There were four droids remaining, and his son was holding them off with apparent ease, his frustration adding to his anger, and his anger to his power in the force. The droids themselves were armed with lightsabers, but that seemed to make little difference, as the boy ducked under one swinging blade and then stepped up to decapitate the attacking droid.
Vader stood for a time, watching his son. Perhaps it was not such as bad thing if contact with this princess had cleared the boy of his indifference, and allowed him to reach such a level of skill.
"Yes, Father?" Luke said, not taking his eyes off his opponents.
"Have you begun the interrogations?" Vader asked.
"No, not yet" the boy answered as he parried a strike from one robot and then ducked an attack from another.
"The detention level records seem to indicate otherwise," Vader rumbled, inwardly pleased at the boy's improving skill.
"The stormtroopers..." Luke charged into an aggressive assault on one of the droids. "...took the liberty..." A quick strike knocked the droid off balance. "...of softening up... the leader." He sliced the droid in half and turned to meet another attack. "He was in need... of..." The last two droids were coordinating their attacks. "Immediate... medical assistance..." The boy focused on one of his opponents, driving it backwards with a series or brutal slashes. "...and I can't interrogate him..." He made it through the droid's defenses and sliced it down the center. "...if... he's..." He turned around in just to face the last droid's attack. He didn't raised his lightsaber instead he raised a gloved hand. "...dead!" The droid went flying backwards across the room to impact with the wall, leaving a sizable dent, and falling to the floor, crushed by the sheer strength of the attack.
Luke stood there for a few moments, panting. Vader could tell feel the negative emotions, that had brought Luke such strength, beginning to dissipate as the boy began to calm, his frustration spent.
Vader studied him. What the boy had just told him had been at least partially true. It seemed that his inability to speedily complete the task which he had been assigned was a great departure from routine for the boy and part of the source of the boy's frustration. Though it now seemed to Vader that a large part of that anger was aimed inwardly, at the boy himself. Perhaps the boy took this inability to complete the task as a source of personal failure. That would not be entirely surprising, he had always been hard on himself.
"I'm going to go inspect those ships we captured. Those X-Wings are a new design and I'd like to know why they're so effective against our TIE fighters," Luke said once he had regained his breath.
Or perhaps not...
The princess was certainly involved, but so were the other rebels, and the task of interrogating them. Whatever it had been, it was having a profound effect on the boy. When Luke had been younger he had always demonstrated a vast fascination with ships, but that had recently begun to ebb. Vader decided to leave the boy be for the time. He would keep an eye on him, ready to interfere if it seemed that something was going wrong.
When Vader nodded his assent, the boy turned away, heading to the door that lead to his own quarters.
*^*^*^*^*
Luke stepped from his quarters and walked with quick strides to the hangar where the X-Wings were being kept. He had cleaned himself and changed his clothing, and only now, that he was on his way, he allowed himself to consider what had happened between himself and his father in the sparring chamber. He had actually deceived Darth Vader. The thought terrified him. He had never been capable of lying to either the Emperor, or his father. He wasn't certain how, but for some reason his father had failed to sense the half-truth he had told.
He was, in fact, intending to study the captured X-Wings, but not because of any interest in the design. His true intentions were half formed, and rooted in the painful confrontation with three of his childhood companions. He was shaken to his core by the encounter. A painful and unfamiliar feeling of guilt tried to worm its way into his mind, but he brushed it off, buried it under anger. A fresh surge of frustration welled up from inside him.
He had ordered medical care for Brake and tried to justify it to himself the way he had explained it to his father. He couldn't interrogate him if he was dead. But the more he thought those words, the more they rang false.
One day, one simple mission had unseated him more than any number of battles and assassinations ever could. It had begun when he had glimpsed the princess with that R2 droid. He had watched her until she slipped out of sight, then he had taken the plans from the R2 unit and cleared its memory but not before... His hand went instinctively to the pocket that had held the datacard, but of course it wasn't there anymore, he had hidden it in his quarters. What had possessed him?
Once again he forced that thought from his mind. It was too dangerous to think about.
Instead his thoughts wandered back to the princess. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He was bothered by the knowledge that she would suffer for the rebels. He could see her resolve and he knew that she would not give in easily. Why was she willing to sacrifice so much for these people, these traitors?
From there his thoughts moved on to the rebel pilots. He was suppose to interrogate them. He wasn't certain that he could. He didn't dare refuse the task he had been given, and he doubted that he would be so lucky as to succeed in deceiving his father again. What had they had told him...
Coric
He violently pushed that train of thought away as a fresh surge of guilt struck him. He felt dizzied by his own chaotic thoughts. He strode into the hangar and was pulled from his internal struggles by a very loud external, argument.
An unfamiliar ship sat near the captured X-Wings. It was vaguely circular, and very ugly. It looked as if someone had cobbled in together out of space debris. In front of the ship, a shady looking human man and a large Wookiee were arguing with an officer and his accompanying stormtroopers.
"Look, for the last time, we're not smugglers. We carry cargo and passengers. You've already searched my ship, how much more poof do you want?" the man was complaining to the officer, sounding as sincere as someone who looked that disreputable was capable of sounding. He was also lying through his teeth.
The Wookiee added a loud bark to argument, Luke didn't speak Wookiee, nor did the officer for that matter, but he certainly looked intimidated, despite the line of stormtroopers at his back.
"Procedure clearly states..." the officer began, only to be cut off by the smuggler.
"I don't care about procedure, I want my ship back!" the man practically yelled.
Why? Luke wondered in amusement. He walked passed the small group, perfectly willing to let them sort it out for themselves, but the officer sighted him, and obviously not wanting to deal with the annoying smuggler himself, called out.
"My lord!"
Amusement quickly turned to irritation at having been delayed. Luke turned towards he officer and strode forward. "Yes," Luke glanced down at the rank cylinders on the man's shirt. "Lieutenant?" he said in a displeased tone of voice.
Now that Luke's attention was focused on him, the officer seemed much less sure of himself, but he stood stiffly at attention and delivered his report. "We intercepted this man's ship leaving an area known to be under the control of a notorious gangster. I believe that he is a smuggler in service to this criminal, but we did not find any evidence on board his... vessel," the Lieutenant concluded.
Luke regarded the smuggler from within the shadows of his hood. The man was trying to appear cocky, but Luke's sudden arrival had unsettled him. He was already worried, he had dumped his cargo when the Star Destroyer had appeared. He smirked at Luke, while shifting his posture slightly, trying to get a look inside his cowl. Something about his attitude irritated Luke further.
"Look," the man began, still wearing that infuriating smirk, "I'm sure we can sort this out..."
Luke had heard enough. "He's a smuggler. He dropped his cargo when Devastator appeared. Take him, and the Wookiee to the brig." Luke glanced at the smuggler's suddenly shocked expression with satisfaction. The stormtroopers closed on the two outlaws, binders in hand. Luke had begun to walk away when he heard the Wookiee menacing growl, and the officer's yell.
Luke turned back to see the Wookiee holding one of the troopers, while his startled companion tried to clam him. It didn't appear to be working. It seemed that the Wookiee really didn't want to be taken prisoner.
Luke watched the ensuing chaos for a moment before interfering. His limited patience was at an end. He put his arm out, focused his anger, grasped the Force and used it to first pull the unfortunate stormtrooper from the Wookiee's strangle hold, and then slam the Wookiee into the wall and hold him there.
A stunned silence descended over the combatants. Few people saw the Force used in their lifetimes. The officer and stormtroopers stopped in place, save for the one laying on the ground gasping for air. The human smuggler just stared in open astonishment, while the Wookiee growled and barked in confusion.
"Whoa, whoa, Chewie, calm down okay," the smuggler said, before slowly turning to to Luke and swallowing noticeably. "Look, ah, do ya think you could let him down now, maybe?" he asked with fear in his eyes. Luke was astonished. That had been more bravery then he was expecting the man to demonstrate on the Wookiee's behalf. The Wookiee moaned miserably. In response Luke released his Force hold on the creature. The Wookiee fell to the ground and the stormtroopers rushed in to restrain him before he regained his senses. The smuggler himself pulled his blaster out of the holster at his side and place it on the ground, raising his arms and backing away when he was done. Some stormtroopers stepped forward to place binders on him as well.
"T-thank you, my lord," the officer stuttered. Luke didn't respond, making his displeasure at having been bothered for such a trivial task clear though the Force. The Lieutenant grew pale at the perceptible feelings of malevolence and suddenly decided he had tasks to complete elsewhere.
Luke watched them all. The smuggler had been honestly concerned for his companion, and though Luke could still feel the man's fear, and his unwillingness to part with his ship, he was ready to give that up so that the alien wouldn't be harmed. Luke was unsure what to make of it. He watched as the two captives were escorted away.
Great, he though to himself, more prisoners to deal with.
Luke shook his head and turned back to the X-Wings.
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