Authors Notes: Hello again! Yup, I'm updating again, believe it or not.
While I can't guarantee that the next update will come anytime soon, I can
tell you that there will be another update.
Anyways, I think anyone that has stuck with this story for so long deserves an explanation as to why it took me so long to update. I would attribute it to a combination of real-life syndrome, and a dissatisfaction with how the story was going. To put it simply, the story was going to slowly, while introspection is good, too much of it can slow things to a crawl. A serious bout of writer's block didn't help either. I hate it when that happens.
To all the reviewers, I thank you most heartily. Particularly to Renee, Shezan, Culf, and any others who have been reviewing regularly. On a side note, to maverick gean, in regards to your review, one: you don't need to worry about that happening, eww, and two: Mara Jade will NOT be in this story, like I said, I didn't like most of the books so I'm ignoring them.
Broken Wings Chapter Eight
Luke watched out of the window in his quarters. He had just returned from docking bay. He felt a slight jerk as the blurred lines of hyperspace travel coalesced back into the familiar points of stars. In the distance a several Star Destroyers loomed, and just beyond, a massive sphere glinted in the light provided by a nearby star system.
The Death Star, Luke knew, was the largest space station ever created. It was the Empire's greatest weapon, the product of a decade' work. Grand Moff Tarkin thought that it could be used to destroy the rebel alliance and to prevent any further insurrections. Luke was doubtful.
It seemed odd to him that the Emperor had chosen to have this... thing constructed. What power could a space station have that would warrant all the resources that had been spent on its construction? Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in it, but then Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in Tarkin either. He had long since stopped trying to understand Palpatine.
Luke watched as it grew ever closer. It was larger than he had thought from the schematics he had seen, the Star Destroyers were dwarfed by its bulk, seeming like nothing more than minuscule arrows.
He turned back to look at his quarters. Through the dim light coming through the window he could still make out the shapes of the few objects and furniture in the room. There was still an odd feeling of wrongness, a distortion he couldn't place, as if the force was trying to tell him something, but he still couldn't place it.
He knew that is he was to do anything about the prisoners he would have to act now, but he wasn't too optimistic about the prospect of deceiving his father again. Aside from the knowledge that he would most likely not be able to succeed, he felt an odd sort of loyalty to Vader..
//It's now or never,// he though to himself. Everything was ready, the transport was prepared, the flight scheduled, the mechanic that had made the modifications had found himself with a mild case of amnesia, all that remained was for Luke to contact his father and inform him... and of course to speak with Biggs and the others. The latter seemed just as daunting as the former.
Luke drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
//Father//
//Yes, my son?// his father's voice answered.
//The rebel pilots I was to interrogate know nothing. The rebellion seems to have taken precautions by not informing them of the location of the base we seek.// For a time there was no response, and Luke struggled to remain calm. If his father felt his apprehension, he would know that something wasn't right.
Another few seconds passed and then...
//Dispose of them,// came Vader's reply.
Luke felt Vader cut off their link and relief flooded him. He slumped into one of the chairs in the room. Twice, twice he had deceived his father by telling half-truths.
Luke stood slowly. He turned towards the door.
*^*^*^*^*
Biggs moved his shoulders around in an attempt to ease the cramp in his back. The harsh cell light were getting to him and his eyes were starting to hurt. He was tired, thirsty, hungry, needed to use the 'fresher, and wanted a shower desperately. A real shower, with running water, like the kind he'd never had on Tatooine. Maybe this was some kind of new Imperial torture technic; ignore the prisoners until they get so uncomfortable they give up.
At least there was one good thing, Brake was back. He had a bacta patch on a cut on his head, but his concussion had been treated and he was awake and alert.
Luke had done that for them.
Biggs went back to trying to ease his shoulders. He didn't want to think about Luke. He was scared to death of what had happened to his friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid of Luke even more. A few times while he had been speaking with Luke he had seen traces of the boy he used to know, but they were fleeting, immediately consumed by the face of this man he barely comprehend.
When Brake had been brought back into the cell, only moments after Luke had left, he and Jarru had explained everything, about what had happened, and about Luke, to both Brake and Shanbara. Brake seemed to be in a state of shock, but Shanbara had been extremely understanding. That was new to him, he'd never expected a Wookiee to be... well, compassionate.
Biggs glanced at her for a moment and saw her incline her head, as if listening for something. He glanced towards the door, just beyond he could hear a muffled conversation, and then receding footsteps, stiff and military sounding.
The door slid open, Luke was standing just beyond. The guard was gone.
Biggs looked away from his former friend's face, he couldn't stand looking at the pain in those eyes any longer. Brake was watching Luke silently and intently. Jarru was glaring. Biggs knew her well enough to know that she was just trying to cover up her confusion.
"Hello Luke," Brake said calmly.
Luke stood completely still and examined Brake for a sort while. He turned back towards Biggs before speaking. "Listen carefully," he began, eyes intense. "You are all going to be transferred to the Imperial spice mines at Kessel..."
"Kessel!" Jarru shrieked. "That's a death sentence! Why don't you just kill us now and get it over with?"
Shanbara let out a long piteous moan and Biggs turned back to stare at Luke in shock. Kessel was a hellhole, the worst prison in the entire Empire. Luke, couldn't, wouldn't do this to them. Would he?
"Just be quiet and listen!" Luke hissed. "You're going to be sent on a standard Imperial Lambda class shuttle. Do you think you one of you can handle piloting it?"
"Wha...?" Biggs began, but Luke didn't give him a chance to continue.
"There will be two guards and two pilots. One of the panels under the benches will be lose, there is a box hidden inside. Retrieve it the moment the guards go to the front of the shuttle for the hyperspace jump. Inside the box you'll find four blasters and a laser cutter. Use the cutter to free yourselves. Remember to wait until the they've made the jump before attacking, you can alter your course once you've dealt with with the guards and pilots." His eyes scanned their faces, looking at identical expressions of amazement.
"Luke, I..." Biggs began, not sure what he wanted to say. "Thank you."
Luke just looked at him and nodded He turned, about to leave, but Brake stopped him.
"Luke, you know what our mission was?" Luke nodded and Brake continued. "What happened to the ship we were suppose to be escorting?" It hadn't even occurred to Biggs to think about what had happened to their mission. Trust Brake to be all business.
"It was captured," Luke told them, deadpan. "The crew was executed and the senator detained."
"Senator?" Biggs asked, surprised.
"Yes, the princess Leia Organa." Luke watched them for a while. "You didn't know?"
"No," Brake said. Luke looked troubled now.
Luke turned to leave for a second time, but this time, Biggs stopped him. "Luke, is there anyway, I mean..."
"Don't ask me to come with you, Biggs, I can't. I serve the Empire now." Luke glanced around the room once last time as if daring anyone else to detain him, before leaving.
//Thanks Luke, whatever this cost you, I'll find a way to repay you, someday.//
*^*^*^*^*
Luke watched the Death Star grow closer out of the shuttles view port. His father sat at his side, his dark form somehow emanating both calm, and malice. Luke tried to keep his mind empty, purged of any incriminating thoughts. What he had done, what he had dared to do... was unthinkable, that he had succeeded, unimaginable. Yet, despite his fear of discovery, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart. Perhaps now things would return to how they had been before the rebels were captured. Perhaps now, somehow, he would be able to turn his thoughts away from the princess.
The look in her eyes when she had seen him enter her cell had been unfamiliar. She had been guarded of course, but she also felt relief upon seeing him... and something else. She hadn't wanted him to leave, he didn't know why, she just didn't. Her thoughts had been so confused he hadn't been able to make heads or tails of them, for some reason he doubted that she could either.
When he had held her... he pushed those thought away. He couldn't think about her, not with his father sitting right next to him.
"Your thoughts turn to the princess, my son."
Luke felt himself stiffen, only for a second before he reasserted his control over himself. He braced himself. "Yes Father," he responded, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead.
"You are concerned for her?" Vader's voice seemed to form the words strangely, as if he knew something beyond what he chose to reveal.
"Yes father."
"Why?"
The question was so simple, but Luke knew he couldn't answer. "I... I don't know."
"Forget her, my son, it is for the better. Do not let your personal feelings interfere... again."
"Again?" Shock thundered through his thoughts, quickly becoming fear. Fear, fear of what? Of his father?
"I know you helped them escape."
As the confirmation took form in his father's emotionless voice, so did his fears. No, his father wouldn't hurt him; he was terrified his father would tell the Emperor.
Luke turned his gaze towards his fathers death mask visage. He kept his expression neutral, but knew it would make no difference, as his father was surely reading his emotions.
He could feel his hands almost begin to tremble, but held on to his composure with all of his strength. The fear was both mind numbing, and painfully familiar.
Luke wished he could read what was hidden beneath that covering of plastic and metal. Did his father even have expressions any longer? Was there anything that would have allowed him to glean his father's intentions?
The Lord Vader continued to watch his son for a time longer. Luke could feel the weight of that gaze settling on him. Would his father tell the Emperor? Vader would never tolerate failure, and that was what it had been, a failure.
Luke felt shame fill him, fighting with his fear. He looked down at his gloved hands, clutched together. Whatever happened, he deserved it... didn't he?
"I will not inform the Emperor."
Luke felt all the tension go out of him at once. He closed his eyes. Of course his father wouldn't tell Palpatine, his father protected him.
"Thank you," he said quietly, opening his eyes.
His father's posture and voice seemed to discount the thanks as irrelevant. "Do not fail our master again, my son. If the Emperor discovers your disobedience, he will not be lenient."
"Yes Father," Luke replied, the fear had gone leaving behind a sense of numbness. Master, his father had said, //their// master. There was sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.
*^*^*^*^*
Han Solo resisted the urge to grumble to himself as he was ushered into the transport. He and Chewie been taken into "custody" and told they could expect their "trial" once they had been transfered to the nearest Imperial station, which translated into his being taken prisoner and sent off to the nearest petty magistrate and then either shunted off to some labor camp. Even if he somehow managed to get away, Jabba was going to have his head for dumping that shipment of spice, and to top it all off the Imperials had confiscated the Falcon. Those bastards had taken his ship! This sort of thing didn't happened to him! He was the best! It wasn't fair!
That had to have been the worst day of his life.
Alright, so there were a few days that might just have been worse, like the day he'd been kicked out of the Imperial Navy. Okay, so maybe that day hadn't been so bad, he wasn't very good with orders anyway, but the day that crazy Xokxian had...
The Stormtroopers escorting them forced him down onto a bench next to Chewie and chained his hands into place. He took in the dura-steel walls and floor, and the typical harsh florescent lighting. It made him feel unfathomably depressed. Chewie seemed to fight to restrain himself as his arms were locked into place. He shifted his feet inside his shoes, they hurt from having to stand for so long. A small tendril of fear reached up inside of him and he forced it down. He would find a way out of this, he always did.
Sitting across from him was an incredibly beautiful woman. He blinked, and then scowled to himself. Since when was he so easily distracted by woman, even beautiful ones?
At second glance he noticed she looked extremely worn out; strands of her hair were escaping the ornate braids she wore, and her white gown was wrinkled. He had the vague notion he had seen her before.
She was looking downwards, lost in thought. She looked dejected.
//Of course she looks upset, she's a prisoner!// he thought to himself.
She looked up and caught his gaze. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"Huh?"
"You were staring."
"Sorry," he said, sounding more petulant then he'd intended. She didn't say anything. For a while, it was uncomfortably quiet, save for Chewie's occasional soft growl or moan.
She looked back up to him, while twisting her hands together, she seemed to have made a decision of some sort, or maybe she just wanted to talk, she looked lonely. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to snap." Her eyes were lined with red, as if she'd been crying, she ran her fingers through the material of white dress; the action made her look childish. He realized suddenly how young she must be, she didn't look older than eighteen, but she had a poise about her that made her seem older, as if she was royalty or something.
He wondered what someone her age must have done to have been taken prisoner. Then again, he thought to himself, the Empire never seemed to need much of a reason.
She looked at him and then at Chewie, they were the only prisoners on this transport. Solo had seen some others being ushered into different shuttles, but after he and Chewie had been brought into the last shuttle, there hadn't been any more prisoners. Chewie greeted her in Wookiee as she looked his way, she smiled at him and said "hello". Han doubted that she'd understood his companion's greeting, but she seemed to get the general meaning.
She turned back to him, "Were you..." Her voice tapered off for a moment. She took a breath and continued. "Were you with the rebellion?"
Han snorted, "Sweetheart, I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid." Her gaze darkened, and she frowned at him at his response.
Wrong answer?
"Fighting for freedom isn't stupidity," she hissed. Great, she's a rebel, he thought to himself, and then he wondered why he cared.
Chewie made a snide comment, which Solo chose to ignore. He wondered how many people knew exactly how great a propensity Wookiees had for making snide comments.
"Look, I call 'em, like I see 'em, and starting a war with the Empire, that's just suicide," he told her, with a smug look on his face. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not too fond of the Empire," he said as he gazed around the transport's dimly lit interior pointedly, "but I recognize futility when I see it."
"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made..." she said quietly, her gaze drifting away, becoming introspective.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. "You sound like you've been repeating that to yourself. Feeling sorry for getting captured?"
She gave him a whithering look. "I don't think I need to point out, that you seem to have been captured as well, and since you're not part of the Alliance, that means you can't be more then a common criminal."
"Hey!" he yelled, affronted. "I may be a criminal, but I'm not common!"
Chewbacca, despite the dire situation they were in, managed a rumbling chuckle. Solo glared at him before turning back to the woman.
"Oh really?" she said, her voice cold. "And I'd mistaken you for a pirate, or a smuggler."
He scowled at her, she was perfectly aware that she had hit the nail on the head, and it pissed him off.
//Bitch//
"And may I point out, that unlike captured rebels, I'm not facing torture and execution." Which wasn't entirely true. He really didn't want to think about what Jabba was going to do once he got his slimy paws on him.
She watched him for a moment, looking suddenly curious. "How did you get yourself captured anyway?"
He opened his mouth to make a smartass comment and then shut it again. He suddenly remembered the man in the black cowl, and his blood froze for a second. He shook off the feeling in an instant. It wasn't everyday that someone managed to turn your beliefs on their heads, but Solo was, if nothing else, adaptable, and the key to adaptability was being able to ignore these things.
He grinned a lopsidedly at her, "Just bad luck, Sweetheart."
She rolled her eyes at him, she had lovely eyes. "There's no such thing as luck." He thought it sounded like she was quoting someone.
She turned towards him, tilting her head slightly. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Han Solo," he replied. Chewbacca made an indigent sound. "And this is Chewie," he added after a moment.
She looked like she was debating how much to tell them. "I am Princess Leia Organa, senator to Alderaan."
She seemed somewhat smug at his startled reaction. He took in the white gown again, //senatorial gown//, his mind supplied. He must have seen her before on the holonet. How could he have missed something so obvious?
"The Empire arrested a senator?" he said once he found his voice.
"Clearly," she responded dryly. "Palpatine has overstepped his bounds this time," she said with regal self-assurance, but Solo could detect a slight wavering in her tone.
As she spoke he felt a slight shift in gravity and the room shook slightly. They'd arrived at their destination, wherever that was.
"Well, //Princess//" he said placing emphasis on the title. He wasn't certain why he said it that way, it just felt right. "Looks like we've arrived."
*^*^*^*^*
Vader watched his son as they strode down the corridors of he Death Star, they were to report to Tarkin. This displeased Vader, he was the Emperor's right hand, he did not wish to be made to take orders from the some petty fool, and he could sense a similar displeasure from his son.
For his part, the boy kept his eyes trained forward and his thoughts focused, just as it should be. Vader's decision not to inform the Emperor of his son's betrayal had sealed the boy's loyalty, and while it might prove to be difficult to hide the betrayal from the Emperor later, Vader was certain he would succeed. The boy had seemed to be wavering in his dedication, but no longer. He was loyal, loyal to Vader, and Vader was loyal to the Emperor.
What truly astounded Vader was what the boy had succeeded in doing. He had deceived him. Not only had the boy deceived him, he had learned to shield his thoughts for long enough for the rebels to safely escape. The ability was rudimentary, crude. The shield seemed to fluctuate, allowing flickering glances at stray thoughts, but it had been enough to allow his son to lie to him.
Teaching oneself such a potentially difficult ability should not have been possible, but the boy had achieved it. The boy was full of surprises.
It's done, I've posted, now you must write reviews. Yes, reviews are good. Reviews encourage me to write faster. :-)
Anyways, I think anyone that has stuck with this story for so long deserves an explanation as to why it took me so long to update. I would attribute it to a combination of real-life syndrome, and a dissatisfaction with how the story was going. To put it simply, the story was going to slowly, while introspection is good, too much of it can slow things to a crawl. A serious bout of writer's block didn't help either. I hate it when that happens.
To all the reviewers, I thank you most heartily. Particularly to Renee, Shezan, Culf, and any others who have been reviewing regularly. On a side note, to maverick gean, in regards to your review, one: you don't need to worry about that happening, eww, and two: Mara Jade will NOT be in this story, like I said, I didn't like most of the books so I'm ignoring them.
Broken Wings Chapter Eight
Luke watched out of the window in his quarters. He had just returned from docking bay. He felt a slight jerk as the blurred lines of hyperspace travel coalesced back into the familiar points of stars. In the distance a several Star Destroyers loomed, and just beyond, a massive sphere glinted in the light provided by a nearby star system.
The Death Star, Luke knew, was the largest space station ever created. It was the Empire's greatest weapon, the product of a decade' work. Grand Moff Tarkin thought that it could be used to destroy the rebel alliance and to prevent any further insurrections. Luke was doubtful.
It seemed odd to him that the Emperor had chosen to have this... thing constructed. What power could a space station have that would warrant all the resources that had been spent on its construction? Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in it, but then Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in Tarkin either. He had long since stopped trying to understand Palpatine.
Luke watched as it grew ever closer. It was larger than he had thought from the schematics he had seen, the Star Destroyers were dwarfed by its bulk, seeming like nothing more than minuscule arrows.
He turned back to look at his quarters. Through the dim light coming through the window he could still make out the shapes of the few objects and furniture in the room. There was still an odd feeling of wrongness, a distortion he couldn't place, as if the force was trying to tell him something, but he still couldn't place it.
He knew that is he was to do anything about the prisoners he would have to act now, but he wasn't too optimistic about the prospect of deceiving his father again. Aside from the knowledge that he would most likely not be able to succeed, he felt an odd sort of loyalty to Vader..
//It's now or never,// he though to himself. Everything was ready, the transport was prepared, the flight scheduled, the mechanic that had made the modifications had found himself with a mild case of amnesia, all that remained was for Luke to contact his father and inform him... and of course to speak with Biggs and the others. The latter seemed just as daunting as the former.
Luke drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
//Father//
//Yes, my son?// his father's voice answered.
//The rebel pilots I was to interrogate know nothing. The rebellion seems to have taken precautions by not informing them of the location of the base we seek.// For a time there was no response, and Luke struggled to remain calm. If his father felt his apprehension, he would know that something wasn't right.
Another few seconds passed and then...
//Dispose of them,// came Vader's reply.
Luke felt Vader cut off their link and relief flooded him. He slumped into one of the chairs in the room. Twice, twice he had deceived his father by telling half-truths.
Luke stood slowly. He turned towards the door.
*^*^*^*^*
Biggs moved his shoulders around in an attempt to ease the cramp in his back. The harsh cell light were getting to him and his eyes were starting to hurt. He was tired, thirsty, hungry, needed to use the 'fresher, and wanted a shower desperately. A real shower, with running water, like the kind he'd never had on Tatooine. Maybe this was some kind of new Imperial torture technic; ignore the prisoners until they get so uncomfortable they give up.
At least there was one good thing, Brake was back. He had a bacta patch on a cut on his head, but his concussion had been treated and he was awake and alert.
Luke had done that for them.
Biggs went back to trying to ease his shoulders. He didn't want to think about Luke. He was scared to death of what had happened to his friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid of Luke even more. A few times while he had been speaking with Luke he had seen traces of the boy he used to know, but they were fleeting, immediately consumed by the face of this man he barely comprehend.
When Brake had been brought back into the cell, only moments after Luke had left, he and Jarru had explained everything, about what had happened, and about Luke, to both Brake and Shanbara. Brake seemed to be in a state of shock, but Shanbara had been extremely understanding. That was new to him, he'd never expected a Wookiee to be... well, compassionate.
Biggs glanced at her for a moment and saw her incline her head, as if listening for something. He glanced towards the door, just beyond he could hear a muffled conversation, and then receding footsteps, stiff and military sounding.
The door slid open, Luke was standing just beyond. The guard was gone.
Biggs looked away from his former friend's face, he couldn't stand looking at the pain in those eyes any longer. Brake was watching Luke silently and intently. Jarru was glaring. Biggs knew her well enough to know that she was just trying to cover up her confusion.
"Hello Luke," Brake said calmly.
Luke stood completely still and examined Brake for a sort while. He turned back towards Biggs before speaking. "Listen carefully," he began, eyes intense. "You are all going to be transferred to the Imperial spice mines at Kessel..."
"Kessel!" Jarru shrieked. "That's a death sentence! Why don't you just kill us now and get it over with?"
Shanbara let out a long piteous moan and Biggs turned back to stare at Luke in shock. Kessel was a hellhole, the worst prison in the entire Empire. Luke, couldn't, wouldn't do this to them. Would he?
"Just be quiet and listen!" Luke hissed. "You're going to be sent on a standard Imperial Lambda class shuttle. Do you think you one of you can handle piloting it?"
"Wha...?" Biggs began, but Luke didn't give him a chance to continue.
"There will be two guards and two pilots. One of the panels under the benches will be lose, there is a box hidden inside. Retrieve it the moment the guards go to the front of the shuttle for the hyperspace jump. Inside the box you'll find four blasters and a laser cutter. Use the cutter to free yourselves. Remember to wait until the they've made the jump before attacking, you can alter your course once you've dealt with with the guards and pilots." His eyes scanned their faces, looking at identical expressions of amazement.
"Luke, I..." Biggs began, not sure what he wanted to say. "Thank you."
Luke just looked at him and nodded He turned, about to leave, but Brake stopped him.
"Luke, you know what our mission was?" Luke nodded and Brake continued. "What happened to the ship we were suppose to be escorting?" It hadn't even occurred to Biggs to think about what had happened to their mission. Trust Brake to be all business.
"It was captured," Luke told them, deadpan. "The crew was executed and the senator detained."
"Senator?" Biggs asked, surprised.
"Yes, the princess Leia Organa." Luke watched them for a while. "You didn't know?"
"No," Brake said. Luke looked troubled now.
Luke turned to leave for a second time, but this time, Biggs stopped him. "Luke, is there anyway, I mean..."
"Don't ask me to come with you, Biggs, I can't. I serve the Empire now." Luke glanced around the room once last time as if daring anyone else to detain him, before leaving.
//Thanks Luke, whatever this cost you, I'll find a way to repay you, someday.//
*^*^*^*^*
Luke watched the Death Star grow closer out of the shuttles view port. His father sat at his side, his dark form somehow emanating both calm, and malice. Luke tried to keep his mind empty, purged of any incriminating thoughts. What he had done, what he had dared to do... was unthinkable, that he had succeeded, unimaginable. Yet, despite his fear of discovery, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart. Perhaps now things would return to how they had been before the rebels were captured. Perhaps now, somehow, he would be able to turn his thoughts away from the princess.
The look in her eyes when she had seen him enter her cell had been unfamiliar. She had been guarded of course, but she also felt relief upon seeing him... and something else. She hadn't wanted him to leave, he didn't know why, she just didn't. Her thoughts had been so confused he hadn't been able to make heads or tails of them, for some reason he doubted that she could either.
When he had held her... he pushed those thought away. He couldn't think about her, not with his father sitting right next to him.
"Your thoughts turn to the princess, my son."
Luke felt himself stiffen, only for a second before he reasserted his control over himself. He braced himself. "Yes Father," he responded, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead.
"You are concerned for her?" Vader's voice seemed to form the words strangely, as if he knew something beyond what he chose to reveal.
"Yes father."
"Why?"
The question was so simple, but Luke knew he couldn't answer. "I... I don't know."
"Forget her, my son, it is for the better. Do not let your personal feelings interfere... again."
"Again?" Shock thundered through his thoughts, quickly becoming fear. Fear, fear of what? Of his father?
"I know you helped them escape."
As the confirmation took form in his father's emotionless voice, so did his fears. No, his father wouldn't hurt him; he was terrified his father would tell the Emperor.
Luke turned his gaze towards his fathers death mask visage. He kept his expression neutral, but knew it would make no difference, as his father was surely reading his emotions.
He could feel his hands almost begin to tremble, but held on to his composure with all of his strength. The fear was both mind numbing, and painfully familiar.
Luke wished he could read what was hidden beneath that covering of plastic and metal. Did his father even have expressions any longer? Was there anything that would have allowed him to glean his father's intentions?
The Lord Vader continued to watch his son for a time longer. Luke could feel the weight of that gaze settling on him. Would his father tell the Emperor? Vader would never tolerate failure, and that was what it had been, a failure.
Luke felt shame fill him, fighting with his fear. He looked down at his gloved hands, clutched together. Whatever happened, he deserved it... didn't he?
"I will not inform the Emperor."
Luke felt all the tension go out of him at once. He closed his eyes. Of course his father wouldn't tell Palpatine, his father protected him.
"Thank you," he said quietly, opening his eyes.
His father's posture and voice seemed to discount the thanks as irrelevant. "Do not fail our master again, my son. If the Emperor discovers your disobedience, he will not be lenient."
"Yes Father," Luke replied, the fear had gone leaving behind a sense of numbness. Master, his father had said, //their// master. There was sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.
*^*^*^*^*
Han Solo resisted the urge to grumble to himself as he was ushered into the transport. He and Chewie been taken into "custody" and told they could expect their "trial" once they had been transfered to the nearest Imperial station, which translated into his being taken prisoner and sent off to the nearest petty magistrate and then either shunted off to some labor camp. Even if he somehow managed to get away, Jabba was going to have his head for dumping that shipment of spice, and to top it all off the Imperials had confiscated the Falcon. Those bastards had taken his ship! This sort of thing didn't happened to him! He was the best! It wasn't fair!
That had to have been the worst day of his life.
Alright, so there were a few days that might just have been worse, like the day he'd been kicked out of the Imperial Navy. Okay, so maybe that day hadn't been so bad, he wasn't very good with orders anyway, but the day that crazy Xokxian had...
The Stormtroopers escorting them forced him down onto a bench next to Chewie and chained his hands into place. He took in the dura-steel walls and floor, and the typical harsh florescent lighting. It made him feel unfathomably depressed. Chewie seemed to fight to restrain himself as his arms were locked into place. He shifted his feet inside his shoes, they hurt from having to stand for so long. A small tendril of fear reached up inside of him and he forced it down. He would find a way out of this, he always did.
Sitting across from him was an incredibly beautiful woman. He blinked, and then scowled to himself. Since when was he so easily distracted by woman, even beautiful ones?
At second glance he noticed she looked extremely worn out; strands of her hair were escaping the ornate braids she wore, and her white gown was wrinkled. He had the vague notion he had seen her before.
She was looking downwards, lost in thought. She looked dejected.
//Of course she looks upset, she's a prisoner!// he thought to himself.
She looked up and caught his gaze. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"Huh?"
"You were staring."
"Sorry," he said, sounding more petulant then he'd intended. She didn't say anything. For a while, it was uncomfortably quiet, save for Chewie's occasional soft growl or moan.
She looked back up to him, while twisting her hands together, she seemed to have made a decision of some sort, or maybe she just wanted to talk, she looked lonely. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to snap." Her eyes were lined with red, as if she'd been crying, she ran her fingers through the material of white dress; the action made her look childish. He realized suddenly how young she must be, she didn't look older than eighteen, but she had a poise about her that made her seem older, as if she was royalty or something.
He wondered what someone her age must have done to have been taken prisoner. Then again, he thought to himself, the Empire never seemed to need much of a reason.
She looked at him and then at Chewie, they were the only prisoners on this transport. Solo had seen some others being ushered into different shuttles, but after he and Chewie had been brought into the last shuttle, there hadn't been any more prisoners. Chewie greeted her in Wookiee as she looked his way, she smiled at him and said "hello". Han doubted that she'd understood his companion's greeting, but she seemed to get the general meaning.
She turned back to him, "Were you..." Her voice tapered off for a moment. She took a breath and continued. "Were you with the rebellion?"
Han snorted, "Sweetheart, I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid." Her gaze darkened, and she frowned at him at his response.
Wrong answer?
"Fighting for freedom isn't stupidity," she hissed. Great, she's a rebel, he thought to himself, and then he wondered why he cared.
Chewie made a snide comment, which Solo chose to ignore. He wondered how many people knew exactly how great a propensity Wookiees had for making snide comments.
"Look, I call 'em, like I see 'em, and starting a war with the Empire, that's just suicide," he told her, with a smug look on his face. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not too fond of the Empire," he said as he gazed around the transport's dimly lit interior pointedly, "but I recognize futility when I see it."
"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made..." she said quietly, her gaze drifting away, becoming introspective.
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. "You sound like you've been repeating that to yourself. Feeling sorry for getting captured?"
She gave him a whithering look. "I don't think I need to point out, that you seem to have been captured as well, and since you're not part of the Alliance, that means you can't be more then a common criminal."
"Hey!" he yelled, affronted. "I may be a criminal, but I'm not common!"
Chewbacca, despite the dire situation they were in, managed a rumbling chuckle. Solo glared at him before turning back to the woman.
"Oh really?" she said, her voice cold. "And I'd mistaken you for a pirate, or a smuggler."
He scowled at her, she was perfectly aware that she had hit the nail on the head, and it pissed him off.
//Bitch//
"And may I point out, that unlike captured rebels, I'm not facing torture and execution." Which wasn't entirely true. He really didn't want to think about what Jabba was going to do once he got his slimy paws on him.
She watched him for a moment, looking suddenly curious. "How did you get yourself captured anyway?"
He opened his mouth to make a smartass comment and then shut it again. He suddenly remembered the man in the black cowl, and his blood froze for a second. He shook off the feeling in an instant. It wasn't everyday that someone managed to turn your beliefs on their heads, but Solo was, if nothing else, adaptable, and the key to adaptability was being able to ignore these things.
He grinned a lopsidedly at her, "Just bad luck, Sweetheart."
She rolled her eyes at him, she had lovely eyes. "There's no such thing as luck." He thought it sounded like she was quoting someone.
She turned towards him, tilting her head slightly. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Han Solo," he replied. Chewbacca made an indigent sound. "And this is Chewie," he added after a moment.
She looked like she was debating how much to tell them. "I am Princess Leia Organa, senator to Alderaan."
She seemed somewhat smug at his startled reaction. He took in the white gown again, //senatorial gown//, his mind supplied. He must have seen her before on the holonet. How could he have missed something so obvious?
"The Empire arrested a senator?" he said once he found his voice.
"Clearly," she responded dryly. "Palpatine has overstepped his bounds this time," she said with regal self-assurance, but Solo could detect a slight wavering in her tone.
As she spoke he felt a slight shift in gravity and the room shook slightly. They'd arrived at their destination, wherever that was.
"Well, //Princess//" he said placing emphasis on the title. He wasn't certain why he said it that way, it just felt right. "Looks like we've arrived."
*^*^*^*^*
Vader watched his son as they strode down the corridors of he Death Star, they were to report to Tarkin. This displeased Vader, he was the Emperor's right hand, he did not wish to be made to take orders from the some petty fool, and he could sense a similar displeasure from his son.
For his part, the boy kept his eyes trained forward and his thoughts focused, just as it should be. Vader's decision not to inform the Emperor of his son's betrayal had sealed the boy's loyalty, and while it might prove to be difficult to hide the betrayal from the Emperor later, Vader was certain he would succeed. The boy had seemed to be wavering in his dedication, but no longer. He was loyal, loyal to Vader, and Vader was loyal to the Emperor.
What truly astounded Vader was what the boy had succeeded in doing. He had deceived him. Not only had the boy deceived him, he had learned to shield his thoughts for long enough for the rebels to safely escape. The ability was rudimentary, crude. The shield seemed to fluctuate, allowing flickering glances at stray thoughts, but it had been enough to allow his son to lie to him.
Teaching oneself such a potentially difficult ability should not have been possible, but the boy had achieved it. The boy was full of surprises.
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