Another Route

Part Five

Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews (and the hits! You people, review me, dmn it: ) )

I'll try and post up to 16 tomorrow.

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Several weeks later, Vader received the notice that he had been dreading. Palpatine had requested he speak to him. He was tempted to throttle the aide that had given the message to him, but thought better of it. He demanded competency and efficiency, after all, and the boy had fulfilled both those requirements. Just because he hadn't wanted the message didn't mean it was the boy's fault.

Vader knew that his Master would ask him about his son, and if Vader told him the truth, that Luke had the potential to become as powerful as himself, the Emperor would want to teach Luke himself to make sure that Vader didn't train the boy to destroy Palpatine.

Silently, Vader cursed the wretched Sith custom that made Palpatine so paranoid. When he reached his quarters, he set up the projector and lowered himself to his knee, pressing the 'send' button with the Force.

Soon the bluish holo of the Emperor was projected onto the desk. "Rise, Lord Vader," said the Emperor, and Vader noticed a new, jarring note in the Sith Lord's croak of a voice. Was his extensive use of the Dark Side truly destroying his body, as Vader thought? He stood. "Master, what is it that you require?"

"I should like to hear your reports of the goings-on, Lord Vader," said Palpatine, his face mostly hidden from behind his dark cowl.

"We received rumors of a small uprising in Dantooine, and went there immediately. At the presence of the Executor, however, those who had hidden the rebels soon revealed them and the rebels were interrogated for information and killed."

"And did you glean any new information, my apprentice?"

Vader got the sick feeling that he was being patronized. "No, my lord. The rebels were a separate entity of the one that we fear has been growing."

"And is there anything else to report?"

"No, Master," Vader said immediately.

"No? Surely you must have some news of young Skywalker's progress. How does his training go?"

Vader thought quickly. "He has potential to become useful, Master. Thus far he seems to struggle with concentration. I have no doubt that he will become a loyal servant to you and the Empire."

"You also struggled with concentration as a youth, did you not?"

"I struggled with patience, Master," said Vader, knowing that Palpatine would attempt to twist his words into an admittance of Luke's power.

"Ah, of course. You will inform me, of course, of the boy's progress," said his Master.

"Of course, Master."

"I know you will, my apprentice," said the Emperor, his voice descending into a deeper growl. "I wish you to return to Coruscant. I should like to meet this son of Skywalker."

Vader nearly choked behind his mask. Palpatine wanted to meet Luke? Had the Sith guessed that he had not been completely truthful about the boy's ability? "Of course, Master," he said, knowing that he had no choice.

"Very well. I shall expect you," said Palpatine, turning off the holo without another word.

Vader let out a particularly loud breath. What could he do? Bringing Luke to his Master would probably mean instant death for the boy, and severe punishment for himself—if Palpatine discovered that he had lied, he would become even more paranoid.

All he could hope was that a major crisis would arise and he would be vital to its solution. In the meantime, he would have to delay the order to move to Coruscant as much as he could without arousing more suspicion. For now, he would have to try and teach Luke how to shield his mind. But the boy was so inexperienced… Vader shrugged off that thought. He must be taught. If it proved necessary, Vader would guard the boy's mind himself.

"Can we practice fencing now?" Luke moaned as his father successfully made his way around the pathetic shields that he was trying to maintain.

"No." Vader's voice was particularly firm. "It is of the utmost importance that you learn this."

"But why? I don't see how this is going to help me," said Luke sullenly. He felt the sudden wave of desperation from his father.

"You must learn it," he said roughly.

"Why?" Luke was surprised to hear a garbled mixture of swearwords in various languages from his normally impassive, collected father.

"Soon we will be heading towards Coruscant," said Vader finally, deciding that perhaps the truth would help motivate his son. "The Emperor wishes to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"He fears that if you are as strong as I am, combined we could overthrow him," said Vader, finding himself suddenly unwilling to tell his son the finer points of Sith customs. "I have told him that you are not a threat."

"If I'm not a threat then why"—

"You are, Luke," said Vader. "You have the potential to become as powerful as I am. He fears this. He will kill you if he thinks you are a threat to him."

Luke paled. "But if I haven't done anything to him…"

"Have you learned nothing, my naïve son?" Vader interrupted him wearily. "It does not matter that you have done nothing thus far. He will still perceive you as a future danger, and will kill you for it."

Luke was clearly subdued. "So I'm learning this so he thinks I'm not as powerful as I really am?"

"Yes." Vader could tell that he had frightened Luke. "You must learn this, Luke. It is your only chance."

"If he's your Master…" Luke began. "Aren't you supposed to obey him?"

"Of course."

"If he told you to kill me, would you?"

Vader froze.

"And you the one to kill him."

What would he do if Palpatine ordered him to do so? He had to obey his Master, yes, but to kill his own son? It was unthinkable. Luke was innocent—he had done nothing! He was no Jedi, he was no criminal! He certainly was not a member of his crew that had performed a duty poorly, and thus could not to be lumped into that group. What justification would there be for his death, other than the Emperor's fear of displacement? But still, if he was ordered to do so… He was not strong enough to defeat Palpatine, whereas Palpatine would not hesitate to kill him.

But would he? Vader was the Emporer's most trusted agent—at least, he had been. There was no one else that could lead the Imperial Fleet so effectively, that much he was sure of. To kill him would be a great loss. So what would he do? Palpatine would not kill him, because then he would be left with Luke as a potential apprentice, and if Luke knew that his father had died by Palpatine's hand, he would not be eager to join the Sith Lord. Did that make Vader safe, though?

And there was always the option that Palpatine would kill Luke himself, knowing that Vader could do nothing short of sacrificing himself, and even that was not sure to be successful, to stop him. Would he sacrifice himself for his son?

Of course not, the Dark Side chimed in eagerly. Vader's duty was to his Master, not to the son that had been his when he was still Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. Luke was merely a tool, now—Vader could not allow himself to form an emotional bond. He was a Lord of the Sith; he had no cause for a relationship with a son, of all things. That was ridiculous. If Luke performed, he would live, and if he did not, it was up to the Emperor.

Vader suddenly realized that he had been pondering the question for some time, and that Luke was staring at him, face pale. Before he could do anything, the boy turned and ran out of the room, no doubt under the impression that his father would not hesitate to murder him.

A wave of inexplicable sadness washed over Vader. No, he could not kill Luke, he admitted. No matter what the boy was, he was still Padmé's son, and to her he still had a duty.

"My lord!" An officer gasped, running up to Vader as he stood on the bridge of the Executor.

Vader's first thought was to strangle the man for interrupting him, before he realized that no crewman on his ship would dare to do so unless he had a legitimate reason.

"My lord, we've just received an urgent message from the Star Destroyer Defender!" The man paused to catch his breath. "There's been a revolt on Kessel! The criminals overtook the guns and port of the mines, sir, and have used what pilots they have to fight against the Defender!"

"Set course immediately for Kessel," said Vader instantly. "Prepare the ship for hyperspace. Inform all pilots of the coming duty. I want to be there as soon as possible."

"Yes, my lord!" said the man, saluting and retreating off the bridge.

It was only after a few moments of strategic planning on the means of taking Kessel back under control when Vader realized that his hope for a dire crisis had come to fruition. What ship better than the Imperial Navy's flagship to put down a revolt? The Emperor would understand—he would even approve. Vader smiled slightly under his mask. Luke was safe, for now.

He whipped around and strode off of the bridge. Now to business. The criminals would certainly realize their mistake when they saw Darth Vader's TIE approaching.

The hallways had become crowded as the ship's crew prepared for battle. Vader did not even realize where his feet took him until he saw himself in front of his son's barracks. Surprised at himself, Vader opened the door using the Force and was amused when he saw nine boys in the room turn to him and all go sick with fear. One, in particular—Vader recognized the General's son, and he looked far more frightened than the rest. "My lord…" One began, stepping forward. He had the Captain's bars on his shoulders. "Your son…" He began, but stopped himself. He tried again. "Trainee Skywalker is in the 'fresher at the moment, sir."

"I am aware, Trainee Captain," said Vader. "But I do wonder just how this group came to learn of my relation to Trainee Skywalker." Vader turned slowly towards the General's son. "I know that Luke certainly did not mention it." He disliked the boy's father immensely, and knew when he had told the boy that he was Luke's father that he would tell the others. This was a perfect excuse for some tormenting.

He let his mechanical breathing fill the silenced space for a moment, knowing it cultivated the fear, no matter how much he hated it. The thoughts of the boys were practically deafening. He would wait just a few more seconds—

"Father?"

Luke had reentered the room and he looked far paler than normal. Vader wondered idly if he was sick. "Come with me."

"Couldn't you have just told me?" Luke asked, still surprised at seeing Vader standing in the barracks.

"I believe you know the reason that I did not, my son," said Vader. "Come." He turned to the side so that Luke walked in front of him. Before following, Vader turned to one of the boys. "Trainee Darmic, I would advise you to dispose of the pornography under your mattress. It does not reflect well on Imperial soldiers and I do not allow it on any of my ships, and certainly not my flagship."

The teenager's face went violently red as Vader left the room. Once the door had shut, they all let out a collective breath before gathering the courage to laugh.

"Why did you come? Did your Master tell you to kill me, and you decided to do it to my face instead of Force-choking me?" Luke asked bitterly.

"I would never kill you," said Vader, ignoring the disrespect for the meantime as they walked.

"Sure," said Luke. "Because killing people really preys on your conscience."

The comment stung for a moment before Vader suppressed it. "I do not kill for pleasure, whatever you may think."

"No, you just prey on the helpless," Luke spat. "No, wait, I'm wrong! Aunt Beru was a real threat! I totally understand why she had to die! Imagine calling someone by his real name! The treason!"

"I will not tolerate such an attitude," said Vader coldly as they walked down the hallway. "And I was under the impression that we had discussed this matter thoroughly."

"You don't get it, do you?" Luke suddenly shouted, planting his feet. "How can you be so heartless? You killed someone! Just because she did something you didn't like! She didn't do anything to you! Who gave you the right to just decide who gets to live or not? Why should the people who bug you have to die?"

Vader was suddenly grateful that their corridor was empty before his anger billowed up. "I will not be spoken to in that manner, my son."

"I don't care!" Luke shouted back. "It's not like you can do much else, is it? What are you going to do, threaten to hurt me? You already cut off my hand!"

Vader said nothing as Luke stood in the hallway, breathing hard. "Are you finished?" The Sith asked, grateful that the mask belied none of his emotions. Luke was right, even though he didn't want to admit it. The boy had opened a floodgate of repressed guilt that had lain dormant in Vader. Everything was his fault—he hadn't been able to save his mother, or Padmé, hadn't been able save himself, even. And now, he had nearly killed his own son, and would have, if not for Owen Lars' words. Why? He had tried to do everything right, all those years, and yet nothing had ever worked. Recognizing the pointless train of thought, Vader cleared his emotions and refocused upon his son. "Luke," he began. "I came to tell you that we are going to battle. I will be flying."

Luke's anger and pain dissipated for the moment. "Really?" .

Suddenly, Vader was struck with an idea that might help to mend the relations between him and his son. "Would you like to watch?" he asked. "You would probably have a good vantage point from the bridge."

"You're not joking?"

"Do I ever?"

Luke thought a moment. "No." He grinned. "That'd be awesome!" His expression clouded over for a second as Vader began to walk back down the hall. "Hold on! I'm not done!"

Vader turned. "We will be entering hyperspace shortly," he said. "You can take out your anger on me with a lightsaber."

"You promise not to move?" Luke asked, grinning, unable to relinquish his excitement for the anger of just a few minutes past.

"I promise to use one hand," Vader said. "I have already been chopped to pieces once without needing to revisit the experience."

Luke stared at his father for a moment before he recognized Vader's dry sense of humor. He grinned. "Fine. One hand."

Luke very quickly realized that he had a lot more to learn than he thought. He had thought that they normally engaged in competitive duels, Vader showed Luke that he only knew the basics of fencing with the Force and easily beat him several times with just one hand. He had knocked Luke's lightsaber from his hand four times and had barely allowed him to get it back with the Force before he had to concede defeat with his father's lightsaber a few inches from his neck.

Vader moved with speed, but he was not nearly as nimble as he had probably been before Mustafar, Luke decided. Still, Luke didn't have time to wonder how a 2-meter tall man in a life-support suit could manage to move as quickly as he did, as his father's blood red blade whipped past him. Finally, they stopped and Vader said, "I believe that I have killed you five times, Luke." He inwardly cringed as he remembered the touchy subject.

Luke didn't seem to notice. "How come you're so much better?" he asked frowning. He crossed his arms after shoving the lightsaber inside the sash of his Pilot Trainee's uniform.

"Perhaps because I have been doing this for well over twenty years," came Vader's suggestion as he deactivated his own weapon and hooked it to his waist.

"But shouldn't my size give me an advantage?" Luke questioned. "I mean, shouldn't I be more agile?"

"You are," Vader conceded. "You are far more agile than I can be." Obi-Wan's face loomed in his mind and he forced it out of his thoughts. "But I use the Force to make me move quickly. You are still focused upon your physical self."

Luke pondered this for a few seconds. "So that means that I can use the Force to make me stronger, too?"

"Yes."

"Taller?"

The boy's playful question came close to making Vader laugh behind his mask. "I have not ever heard of the Force being used in that way, but there is always a first time," he said.

Luke grinned, but after a moment his expression dimmed. "Why do you serve the Emperor?"

Vader realized that his distraction of the boy was temporary. He sighed mentally. The question was innocent enough, but still, the answer was so complicated… "He is my master."

"Who says?"

"I do not have time for this."

Luke's eyes hardened. "You never do when you don't want to answer a question. You can't just send me off whenever you don't want to deal with me. Like you did when I asked about my mother."

A tide of anger and pain swelled up past the defenses, and through the haze Vader knew that Luke was right. "It is not a subject of which I do not enjoy speaking," he said finally. He had known that the boy would ask about his mother—could he tell him that it was Vader's own actions that killed her? That she died as he dueled his former master and was left burning alive on the slopes of a lava flow? Stabbing pain, a remnant of that day, shot up Vader's body.

"But can't you just tell me, so I know? I mean, if I can handle you as my father…" Luke trailed off, and Vader again suppressed the instinct to laugh. He sighed mentally. The boy had a right to know… And he had taken enough from him without withholding his mother as well.

"Walk with me," he said impulsively. "We will walk to the bridge."

Luke nodded, following his father's impossibly long strides out of the room and down the corridor. Vader slowed his steps. He remained silent for many minutes, trying to collect his thoughts. What would he tell him, and what would he leave out? Where would he begin? The sound of her voice, her eyes, the smell of her hair?

He clenched his fists. Obi-Wan had tricked him, he had—he stopped himself. This was no time for anger. He reached out for the Force to calm himself. Finally, he began. "Her name was Padmé," he said haltingly. He could feel the boy's attention swell, but the boy didn't speak. "She was from Naboo." He stopped again. "She was the queen."

He registered Luke's surprise and tried to continue. "I first met her on Tatooine," he said. "I was nine years old and she fourteen. I loved her immediately."

Luke waited for him to go on.

"For ten years I traveled the Galaxy with my Master," said Vader, the words coming more easily. "At the onset of the Clone Wars, we married in secret. I was not able to be with her on Coruscant very often, for by then she was Naboo's senator and I was bound to my duty." He stopped.

Luke sensed that his father would not go on. His heart ached to know more, but he calmed himself. "Thank you," he said, hoping that the expression of gratitude would be accepted, even though none of the others ever were.

There was a small incontinuity in the regular breaths of the respirator. "You are welcome."

They went the rest of the way in silence. Vader walked with Luke to his spot on the bridge, and Luke looked out at the streaks that were the stars in hyperspace.

"My lord!" A colonel walked up to them. "We will be arriving at Kessel within the hour, my lord."

"Good," said Vader, his nostalgia clearing the face of work to be done. The colonel hurried away. "Luke, I am going to prepare my fighter," he said. "Stay here. If anyone bothers you…" Vader waved a hand towards Luke's waist, and the boy looked down and grinned when he saw the lightsaber still at his waist. "You may keep that from now on, until you are ready to construct your own." With that, he swept off the bridge, leaving Luke leaning against the railing.

They arrived at Kessel forty minutes later and Luke watched as a motley crew of low-powered fighters attacked a smaller star destroyer. The star destroyer already was burning and had several damages inflicted from the laser guns of the fighters. Luke had heard enough about Kessel to know that it was a prison planet, that the most hardened and irredeemable criminals were sent there to mine.

He watched for a few minutes until a swarm of TIE fighters from the Executor descended into the battle. With a jolt, he felt his father's presence in the strange TIE with flaps bent inwards that was leading the attack. He opened himself to his father, and felt the exhilaration of the Sith as he manipulated the controls of the ship effortlessly.

It was breathtaking to watch. His father was invincible, it seemed—he swerved and rolled and feinted with far beyond textbook accuracy. His two wingmen did their jobs perfectly, though he seemed as though there was no need for them. A sudden feeling of cold washed over Luke and he realized that his father was using the Force to inflict fear upon the enemies.

It worked. The fighters, in the face of the four squads of TIE fighters and Darth Vader attempted to turn back to Kessel, but to no avail—the ships followed them and annihilated the rest.

Luke was energized by the performance. He reached out for his father instinctively. May I go down there?

The response was delayed. Why?

Because… Luke struggled to think of a reason, other than the fact that he just wanted to see it. I can help you!

Do you think I need help? The remainder of this pathetic revolt is paralyzed in fear.

But I want to…

Luke clearly heard the mind-sigh of his father and grinned. Very well, said Vader. Talk to one of the officers. Use the Force if they are unwilling.

With that, the link was cut, and Luke practically ran over to the general that had been watching the fight. "Get me a shuttle down to Kessel," he told the man in a self-important way.

The general looked down at Luke, and with a sick feeling, the boy recognized the black hair and pale skin. "And you are…?"

The lie was palpable. He knew very well who Luke was, and yet he was pretending that he didn't. Luke's anger billowed up. "Did you not hear me, General Dase?" He said in a low, dangerous voice. Of course, if the father was anything like the son, he knew what the response would be. Luke's mind remembered the lightsaber that hung at his belt. Perhaps he would get a chance to use it…

"I apologize. I do not take orders from Pilot Trainees," the general sniffed. "Even ones with a father such as yours."

Like his son, the general thought he was untouchable. Luke grit his teeth and rested his hand on his lightsaber, wishing he were taller. Perhaps he would have more of his father's influence if he was two meters tall. "General, you do not wish to be at the other end of my father's anger when he realizes the manner in which you have treated me."

"What is he going to do, boy?" The general walked more closely to him. "Is he going to cut off my hand?"

Nauseated, Luke realized that the man knew what had happened to him that night. He kept his composure. "Unlikely," he said finally. "He is more likely to choke you."

"I have received no orders to allow an eleven-year-old boy down to the surface of Kessel," said the man dismissively.

Before he realized what he was doing, Luke drew his lightsaber and held it in front of him. "Get me a shuttle," he said angrily, his annoyance to begin with and his anger at being insulted giving him what he needed to produce the same fear as his father.

He seemed to have made an impression. "If you insist on force," said Dase. He turned to one of the captains, who seemed frozen. Luke fought the urge to smile as he heard their thoughts.

Great, there are two of them now?

"Captain, prepare a shuttle for Lord Vader's son," he said distastefully. "He desires to go to the surface."

One of them nodded fearfully and rushed to depart. Luke deactivated his lightsaber. "Thank you, General Dase," he said, feeling strangely different from his normal self.

He waited for a transport to be ready, feeling powerful as he rested his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. He grinned. Dase and his son might have big words, but they couldn't back them up. They would pay whenever they tried to cross him.

He was still thinking when suddenly Jisk ran up to him breathless. "Skywalker, you've got to help!" he yelled, not bothering with the normal fear and caution that the other trainees normally used around Luke.

Luke's thoughts of power and mastery evaportated. "Jisk, what's wrong?" Worry overtook him and erased the anger.

"It's Jons, Skywalker!" Jisk said, gasping for air. "His father is a guard down there and he is trying to steal a TIE!"

Luke barely had time to wonder why Jisk had gone to him when he realized why; if Luke ordered Jons to stop, there was a greater chance of his obedience, considering who it came from. Luke bowed his head for a second. "Where is he?"

"This way, come with me!" Jisk said, grabbing Luke's arm.

They ran to the main hangar, where Lang and Darmic were attempting to talk sense into Jons as he tried to get away from them to jump into the TIE fighter. "You don't get it!" Jons screamed. "My dad could be dying!"

"Listen, Jons, you're a half-trained fighter pilot," Lang said. "You'll get killed. The land-based guns down there are powerful, I know it for a fact."

"I have to do something!" Tears streamed down Jons' face. "He sent me here so that I could do some good, Hannon!"

No one had ever called Lang by his first name and he didn't seem to notice. "It's a suicide mission. The ship has already deployed TIEs, Jons. I'm sure your father is fine."

"I don't care! I've got to help him!" Jons screamed, abandoning all pretenses for rank and respect. His eyes were alight with a desperation that Luke had never seen.

"Then let's go," said Luke, not knowing what possessed him. His heart reached out for him. "I've got a shuttle ready," he continued. "We'll find him."

Lang turned to him, his eyes wide. "Skywalker, you're supposed to stop him, not encourage him!"

But Luke had already made up his mind. HE stalked to the shuttle that was ready for take-off, hoping that it was the one he had requested. "Come on," he told Jons, who was in disbelief. "You coming?"

"But if you get hurt…" Darmic said, his face pale.

Luke closed his eyes. Of course. If he was injured in any way, his father would retaliate and they all knew it. "I won't be," he said with finality. "Let's go. I'm pretty sure I can pilot this thing."

He let his hands run over the lightsaber as an act of reassurance. "We'll find him, Jons," he said comfortingly. Jons nodded. "Thanks, Skywalker," he whispered.

Lang was staring him in unhidden confusion. Finally, he said, "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Luke whipped around.

"You need a commanding officer," said Lang with the closest thing to a grin on his face that Luke had ever seen. "Let's go. Darmic, Jisk, cover us."

"No way," said Darmic immediately. "We're coming."

The entire group stared at Luke as if they waited for his approval. Luke sighed. "Let's go, then."

Piloting the shuttle proved more difficult than Luke had imagined. He used the Force for the finer points, but still the controls were different than that of the TIE simulators. The other teenagers had found a cache of charged blasters and two-way commlinks, and Lang had distributed them. Because the base was already prepared for Luke's going down to Kessel, they got through without a hitch.

"Don't worry, Jisk," said Luke, not even realizing the boy had not spoken a word. He jumped. "I have a lightsaber. I've been trained by Darth Vader. We'll be fine," he said.

Jisk stared at him. "Did you just…"

"He read your mind," said Lang. "Didn't you?"

Luke nodded. "I didn't mean to, though. It's just… Your thoughts were pretty loud."

There was complete silence in the cockpit for the next five minutes. "Tell me about your father, Jons," said Luke, wondering if he would be able to feel him.

Jons swallowed. "He's a guard on Kessel. My mother got murdered and so he thought the best way to avenge her was to try and make sure that all murderers were kept from the rest of the Galaxy."

"Keep talking," said Luke as they descended into the atmosphere. For the first time, he allowed himself to realize the magnitude of what he was attempting—Five teenaged boys were going to try and save one guard from a horde of bloodthirsty murderes. He shook his head to clear it.

"Is he Force-sensitive?" He asked, hoping that maybe that would be a way he could identify Jons' father and they could return to the Executor without Vader having realized where he'd gone.

"Force what?"

Luke sighed. "Never mind."

The land-based guns were shooting unsuccessfully into the sky, and Luke avoided them, going around the base to the mines and caves. A gun turned on them and Luke swerved away, wishing that the shuttle was more maneuverable than it was.

The other boys hissed in their breaths as a laser blast just barely missed them. Luke gunned the thrusters and they sped up. "This isn't meant to be piloted by one man," he said suddenly. "I need someone to orchestrate the landing."

"I'll do it," Lang said immediately, unbuckling himself and sliding into the copilot's chair. Luke didn't have time to wonder just how Lang knew what to do when the ground approached rapidly.

"Hold it off," said Lang calmly, pressing switches. "I need to get the landing gear out."

Luke nodded, pulling up the craft in enough time to avoid another laser blast.

"We're good," said Lang, breathing a sigh of relief. Luke touched down and the craft trembled as it hit the rocky ground.

The boys let out identical breaths. "Have any of you been here before?" Luke asked desperately. This had been a stupider move than he had realized.

"No," said Jons.

"We have to get into the base," said Luke, deciding that perhaps his lightsaber would be good enough. "Come on." He pressed the codes to lower the ramp and led the way down to the rusty, crumbling ground. Jons tore out of his seat and Lang followed, raising his blaster in preparation.

"Let's go," Lang said tersely, nodding his head back towards Jisk and Darmic. "We can't leave you here."

"You're safer with me than you are in an unmanned, unarmed shuttle," Luke said exasperated. "We need the firepower."

Jisk and Darmic descended after them and Luke reached with a tendril of the Force to close the ramp. He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. "I can hide our presence a little bit," he said. "No one talk."

Lang moved up with him, keeping a hand on Jons, who held his blaster with a fierce look on his face that indicated he would kill anyone who stood in his path.

Luke crouched behind a rock. "Why aren't there more exposed men?" he wondered aloud. He didn't have time to wonder as sudden laser fire hit the rocks behind with they hid.

"The ship dropped off a load of troops," said a harsh, gravely voice. "We can take 'em."

Darmic paled and he and Jisk turned to Luke, whose eyes had hardened.

"I dunno, Maz, you know what they're sayin'?" came a second voice, approaching them. "They're sayin' that the star destroyer up there is Vader's ship. They're sayin' that he's here."

"No he ain't," came Maz's voice, angry. "Shaddup! You think we did alla this jus' to be scared off by the Emperor's lapdog?"

Luke heard this and clenched his hand around his lightsaber. No one talked that way about his father. He heard a buzzing in his ears and stood up, feeling the surprise of the two, heavily scarred men who were wielding blasters.

"Skywlker, what are you doing?" Jisk hissed.

"Who're you?" the larger man asked, his beady eyes narrowing.

"He's wearin' an Imp uniform, Maz," said the second man.

"He's jus' a lil' kid," Maz grinned. "What are you gonna do, kiddie?"

Luke gritted his teeth. "I order you to surrender," he spat, and the aura of power surrounding was tangible even to the others.

"WHERE IS MY FATHER?" Jons suddenly screamed, running out towards the men, blaster aimed.

The two criminals barely had time to react. One raised his blaster and shot, but in an instant the laser was deflected by the bright blue lightsaber that had appeared in Luke's hands. Both men paled, but Maz smirked. "You can't beat us, even with that laser sword, kid. It's two on one."

"Try me," Luke hissed, the thrum of the blade causing the boys' hair to stand up. Luke adjusted his stance.

Maz shot off his blaster twice more, and each time it was deflected by Luke's lightsaber. "Where are you keeping the guards?" Luke asked in a measured voice, with just enough of a Force suggestion that Maz would be likely to reply.

Maz's eyes glazed over. "Below the base."

Luke sighed and Maz's eyes cleared. "I dunno what you think you are, kid, but lemme tell ya"—

Luke raised a hand and both men were swept onto the ground. He concentrated for a second, and several large rocks lifted into the air and hovered over the two men before crashing down on them, effectively pinning them to the ground. Maz cried out. "Damn you!"

Luke ignored them and used the Force to rip their weapons from their hands. He handed them to Lang and Darmic, who stared at him, almost afraid. "Let's go," Luke said tersely, stalking towards the base.

The others nodded and followed them as he traversed the rocks. Lang was particularly subdued. Could Luke become a Jedi, despite Vader? He cleared his mind. Now was not the time to wonder. They had to save Jons' father, and he would follow Luke to do so. He shut his eyes briefly and opened them. Could he?