After a few months of silence, I have finally returned!
- And for those of you who joined the list after my disappearance, I will fill you in: My name is Kellen (Ar-Zimraphel on most sites, including and I am the author of Another Route. (Yes, that one story that hasn't been updated for eons)
Sorry about that. Unfortunately, it was unavoidable for many reasons, but now that a few of my extracurricular activities are done for the year, I have more time (and enough sleep) to attempt to continue on in my 'lil plot bunny that grew into a gigantic, super-sized rabbit. Like the Easter Bunny, only bigger.
Anyway, an update: I have written chapters 24, 25, and most of 26 and I have a plan that I'm excited to write. Good news!
So, today marks the beginning of the return of Another Route. And to get the old juices flowing, here is the link to Chapter 23 of AR, and also a little summary to help you remember. As I recall, it was a particularly annoying cliffhanger. smiles
SUMMARY: Luke was captured by the Emperor when Anakin was helpless w/out his suit. Han, Padmé, Chewie and an unconscious Anakin managed to escape the Executor to Bain, Anakin's private world, where he was patched up and reinstated in the suit. (Finally!) Padmé and Anakin also had a nice emotional epiphany (at least Padmé did) and Anakin made another step closer to the Light Side by overcoming the pull of anger with a ghostly Obi-Wan's help. The chapter leaves off with the company heading off to Anakin's private star destroyers.
He Anakin turned slowly to see his beloved wife standing at the entrance of the door, Han and Chewie behind her, both with aghast expressions. Padmé's face was pale and her mouth slightly open in disbelief at the destruction he destroyed a training room in a fit of rage. Sound like Ani much? that he had wrought.
"Padmé," he greeted her, reaching out with the Force to brush lightly against her mind, to let her know how much he loved her. She gave a little gasp.
"Ani, I'm sorry," she managed finally, her eyes still wandering over the complete devastation that was the room.
"Don't be, Padmé," he told her calmly. "You were right. I only let my emotions get the better of me. It will not happen again."
"An' I thought wookiees had anger management problems," Han muttered as he stared at the room, earning a light cuff and growl from Chewie. "No wonder everybody was so scared at you back on Mustafar," he said, addressing Anakin. "If this is what you do if you get pissed off, remind me again not to get on your bad side."
"Funny, Solo," Anakin said dryly.
"Are you all right, Ani?" Padmé asked worriedly.
The helmet tilted towards her for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "As usual, Obi-Wan had to knock some sense into me," he said, smiling ruefully before realizing that they couldn't see it. With a silent curse, he projected his emotions for Padmé to feel, and she smiled gently before moving forward to take his arm.
"What's the plan, then?"
"We are going to rendezvous with my destroyers," said Anakin. "And then…" he hesitated. "I'm not sure."
And with no further adieu…
CHAPTER 24
Of
Another Route
Oh, and just to let you know – I HATE this chapter w/ a passion and I still am unhappy with how it turned out. Just to give you a head's up.
When Luke woke, he was lying on the obsidian floor of a darkened room.
"So, my young apprentice," said a croak of a voice, in a mock conversational tone. "I have you at last."
"You have nothing," Luke said, making his voice as calm as he could manage. He peered through the darkness to see the dais on which Palpatine—no longer flanked by his guards—looked down at him. Instinctively, he reached out for his father, but felt nothing. His heart resonated with fear—where was he? Since he was thirteen, he had been able to feel his father's comforting presence at the edges of his mind, but now there was some kind of durasteel curtain that blocked his senses. Or had Anakin's presence in the Force disappeared? The thought terrified him. Was his father dead? Had the Emperor killed him while he lay unconscious? What of his mother, and Han, and Chewie? What had happened to them? Uncomfortable on his knees and with his arms bound behind his back by some type of binder that he couldn't release with the Force, Luke tried to adjust his position, but to no avail.
Palpatine let out a laugh. "Quite the contrary one, my stubborn little apprentice," he said, his voice echoing inside the chamber. "I have gained everything. Not to worry, son of Skywalker. You will soon realize that your petty Jedi ruminations are naught compared to the might of the Dark Side."
"The Dark Side is no more powerful than the Light," Luke said forcefully, Yoda's explanation echoing in his head.
"The Light Side?" Palpatine scoffed. "The weak side. Your father thought to his useless Jedi teachings of the Force against me, and he was destroyed as easily as I could now destroy you."
Bile rose up in Luke's throat.
No.
It couldn't be! His father couldn't be dead! If the Jedi were right, his father was the Chosen One—the one to defeat the Sith! Sidious was lying, he had to be!
Still, a thorn of doubt had burrowed into his heart and lay there, silent as an assassin waiting to strike. If Palpatine had killed his father… If his father had died, simply because the Emperor wanted Luke… Luke harshly suppressed the shudder that the thought produced and exercised one of the calming techniques that Yoda had taught him to as to quell his sudden nausea. "You're lying," he managed finally, several minutes after the Sith Master's words.
"No," Palpatine hissed. "Skywalker is dead, and he paid many times over for his treachery against me—for his audacity to think that he could deceive me. I have known for several years that you still lived, young Skywalker, and I watched as your pathetic sire believed himself safe. The lightning that snapped his last, pathetic connection to life—the connection I gave him—was particularly satisfying, as I recall."
"YOU'RE LYING!" Luke shouted before he could stop himself. A small ball of fear knotted his stomach. Palpatine was a master of deception—he had to be lying! This was only a ploy to provoke anger and hate!
"Am I?" Sidious questioned, removing from somewhere in his robes the familiar shape of a lightsaber. "He dropped this Jedi weapon the instant I struck him," Palpatine revealed. "Completely useless."
Luke froze as Palpatine allowed the lightsaber—the lightsaber Luke had seen nearly every day during training sessions—to fall from his fingers to clatter down the steps of the raised dais. His father's words echoed in his head.
A Jedi's lightsaber—the one that he builds—is an extension of his arm, of his will, and is part of the Jedi's connection with the Force.
Surely his father would never have relinquished his weapon so easily? That, coupled with that fact that Luke could not feel his father's presence in the Force…
"No," he whispered, hanging his head, all of the defiance seeping out of him. His father was dead—after everything that had happened… His return to the light, his reunion with Padmé, Luke, and Leia… He couldn't be dead! "I don't believe you."
"You truly are an orphan now, Skywalker," Palpatine continued ruthlessly, delighted at Luke's acceptance of his claims. "Your lovely mother ran at once after him, and got herself shot by my men. I did not waste my time as I once might have with Padmé Amidala."
NO!
Hot, boiling rage leapt up in Luke's heart at Palpatine's words.
His father, dead.
The mother that he had only begun to know, dead.
All because of the subtle manipulations, the disgusting plots, and complete evil of the monster that sat before him, swathed in robes. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Not of his own volition, Luke suddenly found the binders released and he stood, his anger and pain completely clouding his sense of awareness. Palpatine had murdered his parents! Murdered them, after all that they had been through to get together again, to fight the Darkness!
"Strike me down, Skywalker," Palpatine taunted, the lightsaber flying to Luke's hand. The Jedi took it automatically. "I am unarmed. Defenseless."
A small voice made it past the red veil that was Luke's fury. Attack, a Jedi must not. A path to the Dark Side, aggression is. Defend always, a Jedi must.
The calm advice of his Master cleared away the haze like the mist on Dagobah and Luke let out a ragged breath. Without thinking, he flung the lightsaber away from himself. "I will not turn," he told the Emperor, repressing the pain for a moment.
His father…
"It is the Dark Side where your Destiny lies," Palpatine croaked. "I have foreseen it. You will become the most powerful Sith since Darth Bane. You will have the Galaxy at your feet, the most unimaginable power at your fingertips… You will join me, Skywalker."
"Never," Luke spat automatically. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."
"A Jedi," Palpatine spat. "You are no Jedi. The anger runs strong in you… It is pure… I can feel it, no matter how hard your try to seek the Jedi calm." His tone was mocking, but at the same time, he talked of Jedi matters as though they burned him. "Your father, also, had rage, even as a Jedi Knight," he continued, and Luke lost his control.
"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY FATHER!" Luke screamed, the dams in his mind cracking and the emotions flooding his mind. His father dead dead dead dead all because of him all because of him
Father, Father, where are you? Help me, help me! Tell me you're alive!
At once the lightsaber was back in his hands and Luke stalked towards the chair in which the Emperor sat, raising it above his head—
And then he was flying back through the air, in agony as Dark tendrils of energy clawed their way into his body, attacking the light within him and his body at the same time. This—this was worse than his dreams of Mustafar, and later the operating table on which Darth Vader was created.
He called out desperately, trying to fight back the pain, Father, Father, are you alive? Obi-Wan, help me! I can't… can't… can't… can't…
Until at last, he fell into blissful darkness.
And he was jerked back to consciousness, his face screaming in pain. The Emperor's hooded visage was close to his face, and Luke could smell his vile breath, the man's claws clutching his face. "My apprentice," the Emperor snarled, his nails digging into Luke's scalp, burning trails of white-hot pain down, across his forehead, cheeks, and over his nose. Blood dripped from his face onto the floor and Luke was powerless to resist, held in place with the Force. "My apprentice," Palpatine repeated, digging in with his fingers deeper still. Luke fought past the Force bonds on him and let out a terrible scream as the Emperor's nails dug into his eyes. All went black. "My apprentice."
Luke groaned as blinding lights burst into being above him, shaking him from his sleep. And then it all rushed back to him—their apprehension on the Executor, his confrontation with the Emperor…
His parents' death.
The thought brought a sickening lurch to his stomach and Luke flung himself over the surprisingly soft surface on which he found himself, gasping in surprise as his muscles spasmed in protest. What…?
The lightning. It came back to him quickly, the agonizing pains that the Dark energy produced as it flowed through him… Luke repressed another bout of nausea and started crawling towards a white door in the white room, hoping that it was a 'fresher. What had Palpatine done with him? What had he been doing, at the end, with his hands? Luke hesitantly lifted his hand to his face and froze in shock as he felt hard ridges and divets in his skin… scar tissue. What had happened?
With newfound adrenaline in the face of his panic, Luke dove for the 'fresher door and stood, shakily in front of the mirror.
It was not his face that stared back at him.
This face—it was pale and had horrible, gaping scars that tore rents across its skin—marring the features so that its lips were twisted and cheeks warped. It had no hair, and more scars tore over its bare scalp, running like a tortuous river through a canyon.
Luke thought he was going to be sick. He lifted trembling hand to touch it and blanched when he felt fingertips touch his cheek. What had the Emperor done to him? In a horrified daze, he stumbled back to the room just the door slid open and the familiar figure of the hooded Emperor stepped inside. Hatred reared its ugly head before Luke even realized it. "Get away from me!" He snarled, his voice a rasp, throat sore and savaged from his screams.
"Lord Rexus?" the Emperor's voice was strangely concerned. "What is the matter? Surely you're not that upset over your defeat yesterday. I am much more experienced with a lightsaber, after all."
——
The three destroyers were an impressive sight. Like the Executor, they were coal-black and retained the arrowhead shape, but they were slimmer and had curves rather than the straight lines of the standard Imperial destroyer. They were sleek and deadly, and as Vader he had been immensely proud of them. There were some things that didn't change, Anakin supposed as they docked in the main cargo bay of the command ship.
"You designed them?" Han asked in disbelief, having overcome his apprehension of the mask and suit that hid Anakin's features from him.
Anakin nodded, smiling behind the mask. "Yes. They have enough firepower to do some damage, trust me."
"I believe it," Han said weakly as Padmé emerged from the 'fresher, dressed in Rebel fatigues. She threw Anakin a timid smile, which he returned with the Force.
"What's the plan?" she asked curiously once he stood, dwarfing the lounge.
"We make corporeal contact with my officers," he said.
Padmé narrowed her eyes. "Corporeal contact?"
"Yes. While at Bain I commed the admiral of my fleet and had him begin the process of moving the specialized fighters from the holds."
"You mean those ships are going into battle?" Han gaped. "But some of them, they're invaluable!"
"Not those," said Anakin was a slight laugh at was distorted through the mask. "You underestimate both my interest as a military commander and as a pilot, Captain Solo. I have squadrons of Advanced TIE fighters and modified Naboo starfighters prepared. I would not send those other ships into battle by any means."
Han let out a sigh of relief. "Good thing. I'd hate to see those babies damaged," he said truthfully.
"Spoken as a true pilot," Anakin remarked, turning to his wife. "Are you ready?"
She nodded, taking his arm. "Let's go. The sooner we do this, the sooner we get Luke back." Gone was the tired, frail-looking woman in her mid-forties. The Padmé who Anakin remembered fighting her way out of any arena, both political and the actual gladiatorial arena in which they had once found themselves (because of her, he recalled fondly), had returned. She had even found a spare blaster and had placed it into the holster. Her hair—dark brown with only a few strands of gray—was pulled back in a severe braid.
They stepped down the boarding ramp and Chewie roared his surprise at the rows of soldiers in solid-black armor that formed a lane from the base of the boarding ramp to the exit of the hangar. "My men," Anakin explained calmly.
Han looked more closely and found that, unlike the Empire, Darth Vader's private army was one that was multi-species. Granted, they were all humanoids, but it seemed that Vader did not have the prejudice against non-humans that plagued the Empire. He grinned to himself.
"I grew up in the company of mostly non-humans," said Anakin quietly. "And then later, in the Jedi Temple, species was considered unimportant. While Palpatine had his clear preferences, I was not of like mind."
Chewie roared his happiness as they approached three men—two human, one Chiss— wearing the rank insignia of admiral on otherwise plain black uniforms. "Lord Vader," said the first smoothly, walking forward.
Anakin inclined his head slightly at the Chiss. "Admiral Thrawn. Thank you for your efficiency." He turned to his company. "Admiral Thrawn is Grand Admiral of my fleet," he explained to Han and Padmé's dumbstricken faces. "This is Admiral Jin Vaskall and Admiral Di'in Lij."
The two humans bowed to Padmé, Han, and Chewie respectfully. The first was a tall man with closely cropped gray hair and a hard, unforgiving face. While at first glance the second had been human, upon closer inspection it was clear that he had features that marked him as some type of humanoid cross. From Anakin's body language, it was clear that he held these men in high esteem. Their confident manner also seemed to indicate both their mutual respect for Vader and their utter lack of fear for the permanent discharge that Imperial officers dreaded.
"Lady Amidala of the Naboo," Anakin then said, introducing his wife to his men. "My wife. This is Captain Han Solo of Corellia and Chewbacca of Kashyyyk."
The three men looked unsurprised at his pronouncement. "Lord Vader, a briefing room has been prepared," said Thrawn calmly. "We are prepared to jump into hyperspace at any moment."
"And is my Intelligence Commander on board?" Anakin inquired, not bothering to correct his title despite his wife's dislike of it. It would only serve to remind her that Vader and Anakin were the same person.
"He is," said Thrawn, not bothering with the incessant 'milords' that his Imperial officers favored.
"Excellent," said Anakin, pleased. "We are engaged in war with the Empire, Admiral," he said. Thrawn raised his brow in slight surprise.
"For what reason, if I may ask?"
"The Emperor has overstepped his bounds, and I have come to realize some errors in judgement," Anakin admitted. "And while the Rebel Alliance understandably did not believe me to be sincere, we are Rebels nonetheless. Should you desire to leave my command, you are free to do so."
Han gaped at him.
"Not at present," said Thrawn lightly, while the human—Jin Vaskall—let out a laugh.
"If you have found a reason to defect, Lord Vader, you can be assured that every being on any of these ships will follow you," he said easily.
"I am glad to hear it," Anakin said, turning to face his three companions. "If you will come with us," he said to them before turning and walking with his three admirals to the exit of the room.
Padmé, Han, and Chewie exchanged bewildered glances and followed them to a large room with a long table and chairs, clearly the briefing room. Seated at the table were three more of Anakin's employees.
Vaskall and Lij sat down and Anakin immediately pulled a chair back for his wife. She sat down, a little wary of the situation. Han leaned against the wall, arms crossed and Chewie beside him. Thrawn and Anakin remained standing. "We heard you went AWOL and got worried for a while," said one of the unfamiliar men—a Zabrak with violent blue markings on his face and a crown of horns. "Welcome back, Lord Vader."
"Thank you, Sahid," said Anakin, folding his arms. Again he introduced his wife, Han and Chewie to the other men. "We have important business to discuss," he began, explaining the situation to the men. Once he had finished, he said, "But first we must leave orbit of Bain. The Executor is in orbit at the moment, with Emperor Palpatine aboard."
"Where should we go, Lord Vader?" questioned Vaskall. "I would recommend the Rebel Base, but we don't have the coordinates."
"I am sure Admiral Thrawn has discovered the location of the Rebel Base," said Anakin smoothly.
"The Mustafar system, the first planet," said Thawn swiftly. Han stared at him.
"How'd you…?" he asked weakly.
"Admiral Thrawn is a master tactician," Anakin replied. "Had he commanded the Imperial Navy, the Rebellion would have been long since crushed," he admitted. Padmé stared at her husband, wondering at the uncharacteristic humility, before he continued, "We will go there, but do not exit hyperspace until we have made contact with Leia Organa." Beside him, Padmé flinched.
"Already done," Thrawn said calmly. "We will shortly jump to hyperspace." Indeed, just a few seconds after his proclamation, they all felt the familiar shudder that indicated they had moved into super-speed.
"Good." Anakin turned to the man who sat next to Sahid. "Tevin. You are to alert all of your men. They are to begin the rumor that the Emperor betrayed me and killed my son. For that reason I defected to the Rebel Alliance. This must be done as quickly as possible."
The black-haired, heavily tanned man nodded once. "And… Lord Vader, is that the case?"
"No. Luke is still alive, but in Palpatine's clutches," said Anakin. Padmé shut her eyes tightly. "I was unable to prevent his capture."
"That is bad news," said Vaskall, frowning.
"Indeed."
"Lord Vader, I have a suggestion," said Tevin, brow furrowed. He didn't wait for Anakin's acknowledgement. "I am going to give my men different versions of the story," he told him. "But all with the theme of your betrayal. Thus, all the rumors will achieve some kind of congruence that will lead to their being perceived as fact."
"Excellent," said Anakin said. "Sahid." The Zabrak snapped to attention. "Inform your operatives that they are now on active duty. I want them to report daily."
"Yes, of course," said Sahid.
Anakin turned to the last person seated—a Twi'lek female of a magenta color. "Re'eyan. The same goes for you."
"Including from Jabba?" she questioned, twirling her left lekku around her index finger.
"Yes. I suspect that the Empire will soon extend a hand to Jabba and the other Hutts. If that is the case, you will eliminate them. Once the Empire's natural allies are disposed of, it will be weakened."
"Silently or not?" Re'eyan asked next, her eyes gleaming.
"Not," Anakin replied coldly. "The Emperor must know that it was no petty uprising of slaves. I want the news of the Hutts' deaths to reach the Emperor's ears simultaneously."
"Understood," she said.
"That is the end of Part One, then?" Thrawn questioned.
Anakin turned to the blue-skinned humanoid. "Indeed," he said. "Though we are doing so with considerably more allies than I had first anticipated." He returned to view his other subjects. "You know what to do from here on out," he began. "Inform me when we reach Mustafar."
"Of course," Vaskall. "But what of our TIE pilots in the system?"
"Do not worry, Vaskall," said Anakin with a hidden smile. "Your son and his comrades will soon be on our side." He moved his gaze to rest on Padmé, Han, and Chewie, all of whom looked dumbstruck. "If you would follow me," he said, turning and striding out of the conference room.
"Anakin, what was that?" Padmé gasped.
"It is a Sith tradition for the apprentice to overthrow the master," Anakin explained. "I have been readying myself to do so since the beginning of my apprenticeship."
"What does all of this mean, though?" Han asked weakly. "I mean… I don't understand. You've got operatives poised to exterminate the Hutts?"
"That was my first move once I gained power," Anakin admitted. "I once belonged to Gardulla the Hutt, and my dislike of the creatures has only increased with time."
"Anakin… what does the Emperor know of this?" Padmé asked worriedly. "What if he anticipates this move?"
"As far as Sidious knows, my destroyers are still in construction," said Anakin. "Of the breadth of my Intelligence network, he knows nothing. Foolishly, he thinks that his own system is superior to my own."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Anakin confidently as he led them towards one of the upper levels of the ship. "Otherwise my loyalists would have been executed long ago. That they are still alive is a mark of the Emperor's obliviousness to my contacts."
"What do you mean?" Padmé asked suspiciously.
Anakin paused. "I told you that my bank account had been increased by thankful planetary governments," he began to his wife. "That is only partly true. In return for certain services, several systems are secretly loyal to me. Some even within the core. In years past, I have engineered various laws to allow them to have militaries, making them even more important. Should I decide to call upon their vows of loyalty to me, over fifteen influential and wealthy systems will openly declare rebellion."
Beside him, Han let out a low hiss of surprise, while Padmé's eyes widened. "But won't the Empire attack them?" Han asked.
"They are widespread across the galaxy," Anakin explained. "And an inexperienced military commander will react to the threat and deploy a minimal amount of Star Destroyers to each rebellious system, thus stretching thin the Imperial Navy. And once a significant portion of the Navy has defected to me—"
"Defected to you?" Padmé exclaimed.
"Of course," said Anakin, surprised. "I was the military's commander for two decades, Padmé. I have achieved a certain amount of loyalty from my own men. Not to mention, I personally promoted several of my own men into high official positions within the navy."
"Anakin… this is…"
"The Emperor will soon learn that fighting a poorly-funded, disorganized Rebel Alliance is a far cry from me," Anakin continued. "And once the Rebel Alliance and I are allies, the Empire will fall."
"But what about Luke?"
Anakin froze mid-step. "Don't worry, Padmé. Han will help us with that."
Han started. "What?"
Anakin turned to him. "You know Luke better than any of us, Han, and you have a history with him. You will be able to predict his moves when he escapes."
"He'll escape?" Padmé said joyfully. "You've seen it?"
Her husband hesitated. "No. But Luke won't turn. I'm sure of it. His only option will be to escape, Padmé." He stopped walking in front of white double doors. "We've arrived," he announced.
"Where?"
"Your apartments," he explained. "You, Solo, and Chewbacca will be staying here," he said, opening the door with a wave of his hand. Han's eyes went wide.
"Here?" he gasped.
The first room was an enormous living area with a large viewport that took up the space of one wall. The décor was simple and elegant, mostly in muted taupes and creams with a black base. Two doors on either side of the room led into the rest of the apartment.
"Solo, Chewbacca, you're on the right," Anakin announced. He looked to his wife. "And you, my lovely wife, are on the left."
Padmé stared at him. "I think that I need some rest," she said finally, still awed by the strange preparedness of her husband. "Where will you be staying?"
"I have a meditation pod aboard," Anakin said uncomfortably. "One level up."
"You're not… staying here?"
"I cannot," said Anakin. "I'm sorry." Han and Chewie wandered off into their rooms, curious, leaving Padmé and Anakin alone.
"Ani… Please stay with me," she asked him quietly.
"There are certain… procedures that must be done regularly, Padmé," he told her. "But I will come up here to stay with you until we reach Mustafar."
She glanced down, obviously sensing his discomfort. "Very well."
"Good. I will return in approximately three hours," he said briskly, turning to leave. Before he left the room, he paused. "Get some rest, my love," he told her gently.
——
Palpatine's tone was light, friendly.
Lord Rexus? What was the madman talking about? Luke forgot about his terrible scarring for a moment to back away. "I don't know what you're playing at, Palpatine," he hissed.
An expression of surprise flitted across Palpatine's own ruined features, and then understanding. "You had another dream about Skywalker, didn't you, Rexus?" He said in a bizarrely sympathetic tone.
"What are you talking about? Luke snapped. What was Palpatine trying to do? Did he think that scarring his face was enough to make him think that he was dead, like it had his father?
His father! Dead! Luke winced as the memory surged up to the surface.
"Lord Rexus, calm down," said Palpatine gently. "It was only a dream. It will pass. Skywalker does not exist."
"I am Luke Skywalker!" Luke roared. "I don't know what you're think you're doing, but you won't trick me!"
"I won't tolerate disrespect, apprentice," Palpatine said coldly. "I have dealt with these waking nightmares for long enough, Rexus. Get a hold of yourself."
"Stop playing this sick game," Luke snarled. "You're trying to make me think that my life never existed or something. I'm not your apprentice, and won't ever be! You killed my parents!"
"Your parents?" Palpatine, again, sounded vaguely surprised. "This was a vivid one, then. Rexus, your parents died before you were born. I found you—you are unmistakable in the Force, my dear apprentice—and have trained you since."
"You're lying," Luke growled. "I know this game."
"I never lie to you, my dear apprentice," Palpatine said soothingly. "You have told me, many times, that this Skywalker is an enemy of mine."
"I am!"
"Look around you, Rexus," said Palpatine, raising his hands. "We are on your ship, the Victor. Behind you, a viewport. The chambers of a Sith Lord."
"I am no Sith!" Luke roared as a seed of confusion and self-doubt swelled up inside of him. What if this wasn't a game?
NO! He was Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Naberrie of Naboo, brother to Leia Organa, student of Yoda! He was not Darth Rexus!
Palpatine's expression grew cold. "Be calm, my apprentice," he said finally. "I will leave you to your meditation. Soon, you must use the Force to shield yourself from these unpleasant dreams. They are mixing with reality, and may soon interfere with your duties. I cannot allow that."
"You're trying to trick me," Luke snapped. "I'm not falling for it, Sidious."
"You should address me as 'Master' or 'my lord' at all times," Palpatine said, annoyed. "I will forgive your lapse of respect this once, as you are distraught. Meditate, Lord Rexus. Calm yourself."
Luke opened his mouth to shoot off a furious response when the Sith Master deftly left the room, leaving him alone. He sat still for a few moments before deciding to explore the chamber that he was in to look for any chance of escape.
What he saw astounded him. The walls were white, yes, but it seemed that these were nice chambers. He had vacated an immense bed with black mothsilk sheets. A lightsaber—not his father's—lay on the bedside table, and a black robe lay, as if flung over a chair in front of a desk, on which there were several flimsies and datapads. Intrigued, Luke wandered over to the worktable beside it and found several logic processors and various tools laid out neatly on his desk… half-finished, most of them. Designs of a ship lay beside them.
He turned around to see another door and walked to it. It opened and Luke saw that it was a closet of sorts, only the clothes within were much like the ones that he had worn in his father's care—black monochrome. He lifted a black tunic into his hands and then let it drop onto the floor. This was an elaborate illusion designed to lure him into believing the Emperor's words, Luke realized. He closed the room and turned back, seeing another door across the room. He entered it and saw that it was an office—strewn with flimsies, datapads, and various consoles. He swallowed. It looked so…used. As if he really had lived here, worked here.
What if the Emperor's words were true? What if he really was Darth Rexus, and not Luke Skywalker?
Luke bit down on his lip. He was a Jedi, not a Sith! He was Luke Skywalker!
A small voice inside his mind questioned slyly, a Jedi that uses the Dark Side without thinking?
Nausea crept up into Luke's stomach once more. He had reached out to the Dark Side without even realizing it! When the Emperor had entered the room, he hadn't had any control over his emotions, he had been full of hate and anger and fear, all emotions that Yoda had told him led to the Dark Side.
Luke was sickened at the thought.
Tell me. Who is this Yoda? The Emperor's voice echoed inside his head and Luke blanched.
No one! Get out of my mind!
A small laugh echoed across the Force. We share a bond, my dear Lord Rexus. The bond between Master and Apprentice is not one lightly abandoned. Tell me about this Yoda.
Never! Luke shouted mentally. I am not Darth Rexus!
I know your dreams have been troubling you. You have told me of them before… I can only assume that the trauma caused has given you some kind of amnesia. I will tolerate this for the time being, my apprentice, but soon you must return to duty.
Luke savagely threw up shields against the voice that was the Emperor and sank to the floor. Could he escape?
Who was left to run to?
Leia. Han. Chewie. But Leia was on Mustafar, and he had no way of getting there… Han and Chewie—Luke didn't even know if they were alive. They could be dead.
Dead.
Dead like his parents.
He bit back a cry of pain and buried his face—his horrible, scarred face—into his hands. How could this have happened? Wasn't his father the Chosen One? Hadn't he sworn to protect his mother at all costs? What could have happened to him that the Emperor could kill him so easily?
The memory of Obi-Wan's shimmering visage in the Medbay on Mustafar rose to the surface of Luke's mind.
His father was not powerful enough to destroy the Emperor. But should he have been able to repel him, at least, until they could get away? Until his mother was safe, until Han and Chewie—defenseless against a Sith Lord—could reach sanctuary?
Anakin would have done anything he could to protect his wife and son, Luke realized. There had to be an explanation. He couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. Tentatively, he reached out into the Force, searching for the vortex of power that was his father's mind.
Nothing.
He could feel nothing—no shields, no weak awareness—it was as if Anakin had disappeared. Or died.
A primal cry tore itself from Luke's ravaged throat, infused with anger—at himself, at the Emperor—pain, denial, fear—
There were no shields against those emotions, Luke realized as he quieted, spent. Nothing. As if he had been using them for as long as he could remember. He bit back tears. How could he know the truth? How could he see if the Emperor was lying to him or not?
The answer came to him like a bolt of lightning. Eagerly, Luke shoved up his sleeve, expecting to see the metallic seam of flesh and machine—the control panel embedded in his forearm—
His hand was natural. He even had calluses. Luke lifted his right hand, staring at it in disbelief. It was no prosthetic. It was real. Which meant…
NO!
NO!
He was Luke Skywalker Jedi Knight Anakin's son Leia's sister padawan commander pilot Padmé's son her lost baby a smuggler little brother of Han and Chewie the rebel that blew up the Death Star the apprentice spied on by Terzé Ba'kuun by Hannon Lang Vaskall's friend Dase's murderer
MURDERER!
SITH!
He WAS DARTH REXUS!
HE WAS!
He was Darth Rexus, Dark Lord of the Sith, apprentice to the Emperor, Commander of the Military!
No! A weak voice cried out in Luke's mind. No, no, no!
Murderer murderer murderer
Not a JediJedi don't murder
Sith
He was a Sith
A Sith, a Sith
Darth Rexus
Darth RexusA/N: Yeah. So I hate it.