A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! There were several questions asked which I promise will be answered in due time. Also, thanks to Gryphon for the clarification of the different star destroyer classes. Very helpful!

Another Route

25

"Luke!" Leia's eyes flew open at the strange sensation of another's emotions crossing into her mind. Pain… anger… Denial? What had happened? What was the matter?

"Princess Leia?" Mon Mothma asked worriedly. "What is the matter?"

"I don't know," Leia admitted faintly. An overpowering sense of rage swept her. "Something is wrong," she said at last. "Something has happened to Luke."

"How do you know?" Mothma asked quietly.

"We're twins," Leia said slowly. "We must have a connection of some kind. A bond. I don't know what it is. All I can feel is that something is horribly wrong." She frowned.

"What was the last transmission from the Millennium Falcon?" Mothma asked briskly to a technician in the communications room, where she and Leia had been inspecting the equipment.

"We haven't gotten one," said the technician. "All we've gotten is one from ID VS-1, but no one's listened to it yet."

"VS-1?" Leia mused aloud. Something was familiar to her about the serial number—something was calling it to her. "Play it."

"Has it been checked for bugs and tracers?" Mothma interjected. "Don't be rash, Princess."

"It's clean," said the tech. "But it was sent on a secure line that I've never seen before. Shall I play it?"

"Do," said Leia curtly, her senses singing.

The technician downloaded the transmission onto a smaller holoproj and brought it over to the table. "There you are," he said, retuning to his post.

"Thank you," said Mothma, reaching forward and pressing the 'receive' button.

Instantly the smaller version of Darth Vader—in full regalia—sprung up from the proj. "Anakin Skywalker reporting at Date of Departure plus three days and four-point-five hours," he began in formal military protocol. We arrived at Bain, only to be taken aboard the ship Executor." It seemed, for a moment, that he hesitated, or had to steel himself to continue. "The Emperor was aboard and managed to capture Luke and injure me. With the help of an officer loyal to myself, Lady Amidala, Chewbacca, Captain Solo, and myself managed to escape and rendezvous with my private flagship, VS-1, the Varykino. No contact has been made with Luke. My resources have been activated. I await confirmation of our similar goals. My private comm is VS-21.14.518."

The holo deactivated.

Leia and Mon Mothma both stared at the place it had been in complete shock.

The Emperor had Luke. The idea rolled around in Leia's numb mind.

The Emperor was aboard and managed to capture Luke

——

"I trust you're feeling much better, Lord Rexus."

Luke looked up to stare blankly at the Emperor's shriveled form as he entered the room. He hadn't moved a muscle in the two days that he had been there. "My name is Luke Skywalker," he said numbly.

The Emperor ignored him. "I have given command of the Victor to Admiral Bayne until you are recovered," he said. "In a few days, it is my hope that you will be fully functional once more."

"I will never serve you," Luke said darkly.

"That is enough!" Palpatine said sharply. "I am losing my patience, my apprentice."

"I am not your apprentice," said Luke flatly. "I am Luke Skywalker."

"There is no such person as Luke Skywalker," Palpatine hissed. "I grow weary of this figment of your imagination!"

"Then who destroyed the Death Star?" Luke spat. "Then who rescued Anakin Skywalker from the Imperial Palace? Who is the Rebel pilot?"

"The Death Star is in perfect condition," the Emperor said, bemused. "And is nearing completion. Anakin Skywalker? Tell me, who is this?"

"My father," Luke snarled. "You once deceived him into joining you! I will not let myself make that mistake!"

"Anakin Skywalker does not exist," Palpatine said coolly. "And you are certainly no Rebel pilot."

"Shut up!" Luke shouted, incensed. "This game isn't going to work!"

"I am not trying to trick you, my friend," said Sidious gently. "You are distraught."

"If I'm not Luke Skywalker, then what happened to my face? You did it! I'm sore because you Force-shocked me!" Luke said angrily. "Get out of that one, Sidious!"

"You were the target of an assassination attempt on Malastare," said Palpatine patiently. "Of which a captured wampa was a part. You chose to keep the scars as a testament to your bravery."

"Liar," Luke hissed, when suddenly the dim memory of an enormous white creature with red eyes and terrible claws rose to the surface of his mind. He swallowed numbly. "You did it!"

"I? Lord Rexus, that is not the work of a man," the Emperor said calmly.

Fury rose up in Luke's chest and he stood without thinking, lifting his hand. The lightsaber flew to his palm and he brought it before him. "I am Luke Skywalker," he said once more. "I am a Jedi!"

He activated the saber, and then, in startled and horrified recognition, dropped it to the ground as soon as the blood-red blade leapt to life. The weapon of the Sith!

——

Darth Sidious was pleased, very pleased. At last—after decades of planning, conniving, and preparation, he was invincible. He now had his apprentice—the one who would propel the Sith into the stuff of legend, who would ensure the Sith Order's survival for the millennia to come. And on top of that, Darth Rexus' unwavering loyalty to his master promised Sidious' power forevermore. Darth Maul had been a warrior—a keen-edged weapon on which to lay his plans. Darth Tyrannus had been a mere tool, a fill-in, for the apprentice that was supposed to have fulfilled Rexus' duties—Darth Vader.

His lips curled at the mere thought of the man. Sidious had labored long and hard over the creation of that apprentice. From the moment he had first sensed the boy, his cunning had been thrown into motion. With Jedi the likes of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, how could he Turn the supposed Chosen One? To all others, it would have seemed impossible.

But the Force was his ally, as was his political prowess. It had only taken a simple visit to Tatooine to spur the savage Tuskens into the capture of Skywalker's mother—thus beginning of the Jedi's Fall. At the time, he had hoped that the death of his mother would be enough, but the boy had proven stronger than he had anticipated. Though, perhaps not without the aid of Padmé Amidala.

However, Sidious admitted, he had underestimated Kenobi. Yes, he had manipulated everyone around the young Jedi—including both his master and his precious Amidala—but in the end, Kenobi had proven stronger than he had thought. He had been sure that his apprentice would dispose of the Jedi easily, but instead the duel had destroyed Vader's body—leaving him helpless and crippled, and Force-blind as far as Sidious was concerned.

Oh, that wasn't to say that Vader hadn't had his uses. He had, after all, been his right-hand man and without him, the Empire would be where it was. Sidious was not so arrogant as to claim otherwise. But, in the end, Vader had been subject to his weaknesses once more, and had failed. But he hadn't gone without a parting gift.

Ah, yes.

Lord Rexus. He would be the undisputed king of the Galaxy—awed and feared by all. His word would be law, his powers unending. All the power of an undamaged Anakin Skywalker lay in his veins, and therefore in Sidious' hand.

It hadn't taken much effort to secure Rexus' place, Sidious mused. The boy—trained as he had been by Vader and by Yoda, apparently—was no Master. His shields were thin, flimsy, and Sidious had crushed them and entered the boy's mind, sifting through the years of memories and emotions and events. It had taken only a brush of the Force to create an illusion that the boy's own power sustained—the illusion that his hand was flesh. Another light touch rendered the boy's mind-link with his father useless and hidden, leaving Skywalker with no other option but to think that his father was dead.

Soon, Sidious would begin to erase the boy's memories of his attachments. Soon, he would be the ultimate weapon, the absolute Sith. Soon.

Oh, yes. Very soon.

—

"You are prepared to re-take the helm of the Victor, my young friend?"

"Yes, Master," said Darth Rexus at once, cold pleasure rising up within him.

"Good. Re-acquaint yourself with your ship, Lord Rexus. Consult the High Admirals and begin planning the first offensive against the Rebels. We have lain dormant against them for too long—I sense that they are collecting themselves and are preparing for a large offensive. You must uncover the location of their base. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," Rexus repeated.

Barely visible behind the cowl, Sidious smiled. "Excellent. Go, my friend. Your shuttle awaits you."

"Thank you, Master," said Rexus, rising to his feet. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, ignoring the strangely unsettling feeling that the immediate guard of stormtroopers created as they surrounded him.

He entered his shuttle and barked, "Back to the Victor. Now."

"Yes, my lord," the nervous pilot replied instantly. "At once."

Rexus sat in a chair, leaning back into the padded comfort. The Rebels were a threat—a threat to the Empire. His Empire. He needed to discover the location of the base at once and crush them with one, searing blow. Then the Galaxy would be fully at peace and would function the way it had been meant to function. And Rexus and his master would be at the helm of it all.

"We've arrived, my lord," said the pilot over the comm system.

Rexus rose. "Good. Lower the ramp."

"Already done, my lord."

But Rexus didn't hear him. He turned quickly and moved down the ramp with a catlike grace, heading towards the ensemble of captains and admirals that awaited him.

—

Darth Rexus was certainly no Darth Vader—that much Admiral Bayne was sure of. He hadn't yet met the man—it seemed that no one had—and his only orders were that he was the new commander of the military and that he was to be treated with complete respect and submission.

He detested the thought. Bayne was no puny officer who had been promoted on achievements of a large purse and important family. He had risen from humble origins. Born the son of a merchant trader on the Outer Rim, he had been accepted into the Empire's best military academy and had graduated a lieutenant. Over the next twenty years, he had proven himself again and again. And now, he would be forced to bow to a Sith Lord who had emerged out of nowhere to snatch the opportunity of commander right from Bayne's waiting hand.

When the flowing black robes swept towards him, Bayne half-expected to see a life-support panel and black mask. He glanced upwards to see a pale, horribly scarred face—utterly impassive—moving towards him rapidly. At the man's waist a lightsaber swung in time with his strides.

The captain beside him bowed briefly. "Lord Rexus," he began nervously. "Welcome."

Rexus' brow raised slightly and he nodded. "It has been some time."

His voice was a tenor, but rasping. He had probably been very innocent sounding as a young man. Bayne leaned in to examine the man more closely, and it took careful schooling of his features to hide what he had found.

This Rexus—he was a child! He couldn't be more than two-and-twenty! Anger spread from the center of Bayne's body to the rest of his limbs. His ambitions had been crushed for a mere boy?

Suddenly, he found himself unable to move—and invisible vice clenched his arms and legs, keeping him locked in place. Rexus was staring at him coldly. "I am many things, Admiral Bayne," he snarled. "But I am certainly not a child."

Cold fear replaced the anger. In his passion, Bayne had forgotten that Vader had shown signs of mind reading as well. It was only natural that this new Sith Lord would have the same ability. But what had prompted the change to begin with? Where was Vader? He, at least, had proven himself to be an excellent commander and strategist. This young man surely didn't have the experience!

"Darth Vader is dead," Rexus snapped. "I need to be briefed."

"Of course, my lord," Bayne said, closing his mouth from when it had opened in sheer surprise. Darth Vader—dead? The very thought seemed treasonous! He had been the Emperor's staunchest servant, the man to almost single-handedly insure the Empire's survival hundreds of times. What was the Empire going to do without him?"

"This way, my lord," said General Cesin hesitantly. "To the bridge."

"I know my way around my own ship, General," Rexus snarled, stalking past them and out of the hangar. His robes billowed out behind him not unlike the way Vader's cape had.

The officers stared at each other once he had left, all pale and surprised. "This is his first time ever on the Executor, though," Cesin whispered.

"The Victor, you mean" Bayne corrected dryly. "I know. It doesn't make any sense."

"Who is he? He looks familiar somehow," Captain Teknu mused. "Maybe he's actually Vader, but they're trying to pull one over on us or something."

"Nice theory, but it doesn't make any sense, Captain," Bayne said, amused. "Where's the suit, first of all, and second, Vader is far taller."

Teknu shrugged. "I don't like him."

"Did you like Vader?" Cesin reminded him. He shuddered. "Let's go. We have to go brief him."

"Right," said Teknu, his brow still furrowed. "He still seems familiar, though."

—

"And we do not know where the Rebel Base is?" Rexus said darkly as he paced the length of the conference room. The other officers found the pacing to be as unnerving as the stock-still position Vader had favored.

"No, my lord, said another captain. "We have re-checked all likely worlds as according to their previous bases, but we have uncovered nothing."

"Do we have any Rebels in custody?"

"Not at the moment, my lord."

Rexus whipped around to stare darkly at the officers, who visibly recoiled at the sight of his eyes—hints of blue shone through, but they were almost an unnatural yellow, a sickly orange. "Then this meeting is pointless. Inform me when you have actual information."

"Yes, my lord," said the officers in unison, rising hastily to their feet as Rexus strode out of the conference room. The various personnel in the halls instinctively avoided him, the disfiguring scars and Sith robes creating apprehension.

His feet led him to the bridge. He stared out the viewport, walking slowly to a spot that was familiar to him, and clasped his hands behind his back. He supposed that the reason for the strange familiarity of the place was because he normally spent his time there. The swirl of hyperspace was oddly hypnotic.

"Hey, kid, don't use that lightsaber this time, alright? I don' need to explain you again," the scruffy-looking Corellian said, laughing.

Rexus felt himself roll his eyes. "You weren't so against it when we had to escape from that Rodian, Han, remember?"

Han laughed again. "Yeah, well that was life-or-death. This is just a simple pick-up."

"I'm not going to use it if I don't have to, Han," the words spilled out of Rexus' mouth.

"I know, Luke, because of the Emperor," Han said, as if reciting something that he had said many times.

Rexus jerked himself out of the recollection, his lip curling. It was yet another memory of this Luke Skywalker that his mind had created. It sickened him. But who was this 'Han?' Was he another imaginary character, or did he exist?

He felt a familiar brush against his senses from his Master and turned quickly. His Master wished to speak to him. He walked the familiar distance to the holo-communications chamber. Once there, he knelt down and waited for Sidious' holo to project.

"How was your return, my friend?"

"Good, my master," said Rexus. "Though there has been no progress made on the search for the Rebel Base."

"I see," said Sidious thoughtfully. "Then you should encourage your men to double their efforts by any means necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," said Rexus instantly. The holo flickered out, and he turned to face the viewport. "Cesin," he snapped, and the general immediately stepped up to him from his spot at a console, reading various reports.

"My lord," said the man at once.

"Prepare a holographic display of Sector Eight," said Luke. The Force was trying to tell him something—it was leading him to that part of space.

"Yes, m'lord," said the man, turning towards the pit. The crew members rose to their feet. "Continue all present directives," said Cesin. "I shall return shortly."

They all saluted and Cesin turned back to Rexus. "This way, m'lord," he said respectfully as Admiral Bayne rose as well. The two officers led the man down a series of halls to a large, darkened room. "Initiate Sector Eight," he informed the droid at the control panel.

Instantly, the labeled hologram of Sector Eight was projected into the room, and Rexus stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "Dantooine, Yavin IV, Hoth, he said. "What do they have in common?"

Cesin and Bayne exchanged nervous glances. "Remoteness," Cesin offered. "Lack of sentient population and generally, life at all."

"Not too far from the Outer Rim, but not close to the core," Bayne continued. "Easy access to underused trade routes."

"Those are all obvious traits," Rexus snapped, causing Cesin and Bayne to unconscoiusly step back. Rexus froze. Right in front of his eyes was a small system labeled: "MSF. 1/3. Red." The statistic meant that of the three planets in the system, only one was habitable, and the classification 'red' meant that while it was capable of sustaining life, the environment was dangerous and had never been occupied for any length of time. He narrowed his eyes and they suddenly flashed yellow. "What is this system?" he growled.

"It is…" Bayne began, turning to peer over at the console. "The Mustafar system, m'lord. Volcanic environment, but the upper atmosphere has sufficient oxygen—my lord?"

Mustafar.

The name evoked strange memories in Rexus—memories mostly of pain, of fire… but of other things as well. The image of a pale, scarred man kneeling at the banks of a lava flow leapt to the forefront of his mind. He scowled and came back to himself, realizing that the planet was the one the Force had been singing to him about. All his energies were drawn to the spot, as if that which gave him life originated there. He found himself on the floor, in the same position the man had been in his fractured memory. He snarled and stood, turning to the officers. "The Rebels are there," he snapped. "We leave for the Mustafar system with a contingent of ten more Star Destroyers in seven standard days."

The two men gaped at him as he strode from the room, returning to the shuttle that had borne him to the Victor. This news merited his master's audience, as the manner in which he had gotten it demanded Sidious' council.

——

"What?" Sidious snapped at his kneeling apprentice.

"The Rebel Base is on Mustafar, Master. I am sure of it," Rexus repeated calmly.

"I… see." Rexus waited patiently for his master to speak further. "And how did you learn this?"

"The Force led me to it, Master," said Rexus. He hesitated, and Sidious recognized it instantly and pounced upon the lapse in his apprentice's control like gundark did its prey.

"Something troubles you."

"Yes, Master," said Rexus uneasily. "The mention of the planet… revives strange memories."

"I see," Sidious repeated in a clipped tone. "Come here, boy," he commanded. At once, the former Jedi stood and moved more closely to the raised dais. He knelt again at Sidious' feet. With a knarled, decaying hand, the Emperor snatched Rexus' chin and yanked him forward. Despite his surprise, the Sith did nothing. Sidious closed his eyes and waded into the maelstrom of power and barely disguised confusion that was his apprentice's mind. Rexus struggled a bit at the intrusion, when a sharp mental rap silenced him. Sidious sifted through the memories and cast a Dark shade over them. He did not erase them completely—he would, perhaps, have use for them one day—but let them fade from the Sith's consciousness. He let go.

The man who had once been Luke Skywalker didn't move, his eyes glassy and glazed over. "Get up," Sidious ordered sharply.

Rexus rolled to the side of the dais and threw up, the invasion of his mind having negative effects on his body. He was severely weakened.

"Get up, apprentice." Sidious snarled, angered at the weak response of the boy who was supposed to be invincible. Except, perhaps, against Sidious himself. The thought pleased him. "You are to be presented to the galaxy tonight," he said, and Rexus raised his dull eyes to his master. "Clean yourself up. This display has sickened me. After you are presented, you will continue with your plans regarding Mustafar." Rexus slowly raised himself to his knees and Sidious bared his teeth in anger, raising his hands. "I will not tolerate this weakness," he hissed, as his body became a vassal for the white-hot lightning that was the visible power of the Dark Side.

Rexus cried out as the Dark energy burned through him, but Sidious cut its flow as abruptly as he had encouraged it. "Should you fail me again," he threatened. "I shall not be as lenient."

"Yes, master," Rexus gasped. "Thank you."

"Leave my sight."

——

"Lord Vader… This is unexpected."

"Vicereine Castana," Anakin greeted, inclining his head as a sign of respect to the aging human woman whose holo was projected in front of him. "I contact you on a matter most grave."

"Indeed," said the woman. "And would it have anything to do with rumors my spies have brought me concerning your defection and apparent leave of the Empire, Lord Vader?" she questioned shrewdly.

"It would."

"And this is a call to raise up in arms against the Empire, is it not?"

"Yes."

"Tell me. What could possibly be the reason for this?" Castana asked after a moment. She crossed her arms. "I want to know the truth before I just hand over my people's military to you."

"The Emperor committed betrayal of the worst kind," said Anakin. "On multiple counts. I hereby call on your oath, made to me the second day of the tenth month of seven standard years ago."

"I see." Castana was silent for several moments. "My military is yours to command, Lord Vader. I will wait for more instructions."

"Excellent," said Anakin, just as she cut the transmission. He mentally ran through his list of loyalists, of which Castana had been the last. All present and accounted for, he thought dryly. All of the short conversations had gone more or less in the same way as the one with the Cethir system's Vicereine. He leaned back into the chair in his meditation pod and, with the Force, pressed the button that would begin his maintenance cycle. It had taken four hours—longer than he had anticipated—to gather together the newly rebellious planets. But his plans were now set in motion, he thought as the mask was lifted from his face. The brief second of suffocation—and then his lungs began to work on their own.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Luke. How could he have been captured? What would the Emperor do to him?

It wasn't that hard to imagine. As the Sidious' former apprentice, he was all too aware of what Sith Master was capable. He would try to turn Luke—to make the Jedi bow to him as had his father. Vaguely, the memory of his frantic shield lessons he had given Luke right before he met the Emperor floated to his mind and made Anakin smile ironically. He had been worried, then, that the Emperor would take his son from him. Life had not changed much in four years, he supposed, only that now Sidious truly did have Luke.

The slow ache between his temples that had been growing throughout the day pierced his consciousness and Anakin held his head in his hands, wishing, for the millionth time, that he had made better choices. If not for him, none of this would have happened.

"Beating yourself up, again, I see."

"Of course," he replied, no longer surprised at his former master's random comings and goings. He looked up to see Obi-Wan as he had looked when he had just become a Knight. Clean-shaven and hair cropped, he could have been mistaken for a Padawan still, were it not for the fact that his braid was gone. "Do you know what has happened to Luke?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm sorry, brother. I cannot see past the Dark that shrouds everything close to Sidious. It makes me a most ineffectual spy."

Anakin cracked a weak smile as the droids whirred about his body, removing the suit piece by piece to clean his body. He winced as one of the droids made some nerve ending changes to his left hand, and looked up just in time to see Obi-Wan's discomfort. "Don't start," he said warningly, knowing that his former master had been just about to apologize for the hundredth time.

"Very well," Obi-Wan assented, crossing his arms and 'leaning' against the wall of the meditation pod. "I am worried for Luke, Anakin," he admitted.

"He won't turn, Obi-Wan," said Anakin. "He won't."

Obi-Wan gazed at him through troubled eyes. "That, my friend, is what I said about you."

Anakin sat in shocked silence for a few moments before he managed, "That was low."

"Yes. But true," said Obi-Wan heavily. "He has not been fully trained, Anakin. I don't know if he has the experience to resist Sidious. You and I, of all people, know how cunning he can be. How seductive."

"Yes, I know," Anakin snapped, unwilling to recall the memories.

"We need to be prepared," said Obi-Wan slowly. "For the possibility."

"He won't turn," Anakin growled. "If you've got nothing productive to say, then leave."

And he did.

AN: Please review!