Chapter 3: Meeting Tyloid

The second senate lesson was shorter than the first, as the proceedings were more than half over by the time Luke arrived. The professor was more talkative this time, and engaged Ben in a long discussion about the pros and cons of power invested in many, versus power invested in one.

Luke couldn't really follow it. More than likely because he'd been distracted by Leia. Unfortunately, the princess didn't make a speech this time around and apparently some new law had been introduced over the last few days, preventing senators from making unfounded accusations involving the Imperial military.

Luke had wanted to stay behind to see if he could have a chance meeting with Leia again, but Ben had homework to finish.

"Are we going to the library?" Luke enquired, once they were airborne.

"No," Ben said. "Back to the palace."

"Meeting your father?" He hadn't heard much from Ben about his father recently, which hinted that they might have stopped arguing.

"Unfortunately. We're going over to my uncle's for dinner."

"Does he know about the senate lessons?" Luke asked.

"No. If I mentioned them, he'd only take that as an excuse to start encouraging me into politics again."

Luke was silent, thinking. If only there was some way he could fix all this. Maybe if he talked to Ben's father alone. On the other hand, he didn't want to nosy into something that was really none of his business.

"I just wish there was some way I could help," Luke said, as they entered the palace security zone. He flicked a switch to start transmitting their clearance code. "I hate to see you drifting apart."

Ben sighed. "I know. I don't want it to happen, but ... nothing is going to change until he accepts that I'm going to medical school, and that's final."

Luke grinned. His friend was rarely so stubborn.

"You know what he said to me the other day?" Ben said, as Luke flew the speeder down into the underground hangar bays. It would be easier for Ben to get to his father's office from there. "He said that because he had spent the last seventeen years supporting me and my education, all by himself, that he deserved a say in my career."

"What did you say?" Luke asked, looking around for a space to park in. The bay was crammed with boring speeders that were probably owned by the palace staff. Finally he spotted a gap next to a few fuel canisters.

"I told him I didn't ask to be born."

Luke twisted his neck around, reversing slowly into the gap.

"What did he say?"

"He said he didn't ask for me to be born either."

Luke slipped off the brake in shock, sending them shooting back into the wall. There was a loud crunch, and four crates tumbled backwards.

"Stars, Luke, you've broken something!" Ben jumped out onto the floor. "You've broken the Emperor's property!"

"Calm down!" Luke insisted, turning off the engine. "It was just some crates! Nothing the Emperor owns would be stored down here."

"He's going to kill us!" Ben said, rushing around behind to see the damage. "We're going to be locked up, we're going to be—"

Luke followed his friend.

"What is it?"

"Some crusty old bike," Ben said, sounding relieved. "I think it was already broken, thank the Force."

Luke saw a lid had fallen off one of the crates, and a half-moon speeder bike had slipped out onto the deck. It was certainly old and covered with sand.

"Wow, an antique!" Luke said. "I wonder if it still goes?"

"Don't even think about it," Ben said, raising his hands. "I'm getting out of here. You should too."

"I guess you're right," Luke said, glancing idly at the other crates. They had fallen down, but appeared to be still intact.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," Ben said, rushing for the doors.

Luke remained staring at the bike, wondering what it would look like after a lube and polish. There was a heavy equipment elevator at the rear of the hangar bay, and a repulsorlift trolley. If he was discreet about it, he could shift it up to his father's personal hangar bay without anyone noticing.

"What is that?!"

"This?" Luke said, sliding out from under the engine. His father was filling the doorway to the workroom where he'd found a new home for the speeder bike. He'd been working on the engine for an hour now and was thoroughly covered in sand and grease. "I was hoping you could tell me."

His father ran his hand over the back storage compartment, and then leaned over to see the controls.

"I would guess about ten years pre-Empire. Where did you find it?"

"In one of the hangar bays near the guard headquarters. It was in a crate. I'm still trying to clean all the sand out of the engine."

His father took a step backwards at the mention of the word sand.

"The Archduke of Quasher and his son arrived this afternoon. The Grand Vizier is hosting a state banquet for them this evening. You will attend."

Luke looked back at the engine. "But … I really want to work on this. Can't you tell them I'm sick?"

His father folded his arms. "Do we need to have a talk about duty and responsibility?"

"Stars, no," Luke said. He'd well and truly memorised his father's favourite lecture on that subject.

"Then go and get yourself cleaned up and dressed appropriately. This event is in an hour. I will accompany you to the dining room for introductions, but I will not stay. You can practice your diplomatic skills."

"What diplomatic skills?" Luke said, standing up and brushing himself off.

"That's why I said practice."

This was sounding worse by the minute. "So how dressed up do I have to be?"

"Let me put it like this," his father said, in a dry tone. "Can you think of any situation that would require you to dress better than if you were representing the Empire at a state banquet at the Imperial Palace?"

"I'll see what I can find," Luke mumbled, taking one last longing look at the speeder bike. Perhaps they'd be time to go back to work on it afterwards.

After an hour of showering, dressing, and generally making himself presentable, Luke tried to push away the lingering feelings of resentment at having to give up his evening to have dinner with strangers. But he did enjoy his father's nod of approval as he stepped out of his room.

"Good. Apart from the engine grease in your hair."

"That's hair gel," Luke protested.

"I know engine grease when I see it, Son. But we must go."

Luke followed his father, starting to feel a tinge of anxiety. No matter how many formal social occasions he had attended over the last five years, he never felt comfortable. Everyone must see immediately that he didn't exactly look like he belonged around here.

"It is time you started accompanying me to official events more often," his father remarked, as they entered the elevator. He clearly wasn't tapping into his thoughts for once.

"You hate official events," Luke said.

His father continued as if he hadn't spoken. "The senate is a start, but there is only so much you can learn there. You need to observe the true mechanism behind the workings of the Empire."

"I know exactly how the Empire is run," Luke said, as the elevator began to rise to the upper levels. "The Emperor tells everyone what to do, and everyone obeys him."

"A crude appraisal, but not entirely untrue."

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Luke asked, staring at his boots. One was polished far more than the other, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

"This is not an appropriate time or place," his father replied.

Luke smirked, sensing a yes behind the words.

They remained in silence on the walk through the corridors that led to the main dining room. There were extra royal guards present, due to the event, and it reminded Luke of Ben's conflict with his father.

"Have you spoken to Captain Jarnet lately?" Luke said, looking down.

"No."

"He and Ben have been arguing over his career since the start of the semester," Luke said.

"Please tell me he doesn't want his son to enter the guard training academy. That boy couldn't win a fight against a Jawa."

"Hey, we can't all be unstoppable forces of destruction," Luke said. "Ben's smarter than anyone I know."

"He should apply to the officer academy then. I could use more officers with more than one functioning brain cell."

"He wants to go to medical school. He likes the idea of developing new medical technology."

"And his father disapproves?"

Luke shrugged. "Yeah, I don't understand it either. But I guess it's normal. After all, we sometimes argue over stupid things."

"I don't believe I have ever heard the word normal used in connection with either of us."

"Hey, I'm normal," Luke said.

"Make sure you stay that way during the meal," his father said, reaching out to guide him forward as they reached the outer doors. "You will be expected to make conversation with the boy. Ask him about his home world. Perhaps you could tell him about your experiences at the senate."

Luke was expecting this to be boring enough already, without having to weigh it down with political talk, but he didn't say anything. For all he knew, politics was the only thing this person knew how to talk about.

The more Luke considered it, the more nervous he became. A teenage senator would be confident, mature, sophisticated ... everything he wasn't. He lagged behind as they approached the final doors to the dining hall, studying the pattern on the lush red carpet.

He was so preoccupied, he didn't realize his father had stopped in front of him, until he felt his hands reaching out to prevent a collision. He looked up, realizing his thoughts had been picked up over their empathic link.

What is it?

Luke looked across and realized there were guards waiting to open the doors. His father obviously did not want to be overheard.

Nothing. Just nerves.

You have no reason to be nervous. Stay close, and I will present you.

His father reached up to straighten his head, and then sent some reassurance, causing Luke to relax a notch. His father walked on, and this time, Luke stayed by his side.

The guards opened the doors for them, and Luke stared around at the guests waiting at the table. It seemed they were the last to arrive. The table was black, and appeared to have the center missing. It wasn't until they came closer that Luke realized it was made from transparisteel. It was designed to look like a giant Imperial insignia.

There was a loud clatter as all the current occupants of the table stood up. The man nearest them, who was decked out in naval dress uniform, inclined his head in a military bow.

"Good evening, my lord."

"Governor Sanex," his father said. "You have met my son, Luke Skywalker."

"Of course, a pleasure once again, young Mr Skywalker."

Luke shook his hand, wondering when he was supposed to have met this man. As far as he knew, he'd never seen him before. On the other hand, he did meet a lot of people when he was with his father.

The other guests had quickly lined up in some sort of receiving line. Luke glanced backwards, but his father was right behind him, preventing any possibility of escape.

The next person was elaborately adorned with a headdress and silver lined cloak. Luke guessed that this was the archduke of wherever.

"Your highness," his father said. "May I present my son, Luke Skywalker."

"A great honor to meet you," he said, gripping his hand firmly.

"Likewise, your highness," Luke said, trying hard to sound confident.

His father stepped back, and the archduke took over the introductions, and Luke met his wife, his chief advisor, his brother, and finally they reached his son.

He was of similar height, and his greenish hair was thick and bristly, like a cleaning brush.

"May I present my son and heir, and soon to be Imperial senator, Tyloid Hareldius Lindtsand Fenlius the Sixth."

Luke wondered if he was supposed to remember all those names. For that matter, how did the archduke remember all those names?

"Pleasure to meet you," Luke said, offering his hand.

Tyloid hesitated before accepting it, and then smirked in an odd way. Luke released the handshake, feeling uncomfortable. He looked around for his father, and found he had already left.

The last person, standing on the other side of the empty place next to Tyloid, was the Imperial Grand Vizier, Mas Amedda. Luke had known him since he'd first arrived here, and he used to think the man despised him, especially after that one time he'd careened into him while riding a hoverboard around the corridors. But as he grew older, he'd warmed up a lot. He even gave him a smile this evening.

"Good evening, Luke."

"Hello," Luke nodded.

"I'm glad you could join us."

He then gestured for everyone to sit, and Luke pulled out his chair beside Tyloid. The adults all resumed their conversation around them, leaving Luke sitting in awkward silence. It was time for what his father dismissively referred to as 'pleasantries'. No wonder he'd left with all speed.

"So," Luke said, glancing at Tyloid, "is this your first time on Coruscant?"

"Yes," Tyloid said. "Honestly, I expected a lot more. It's all a bit of an eyesore, really. Too many primitive species. I actually saw a Rodian this morning."

Luke's eyes widened. They'd been a Rodian girl in his class at the Anchorhead school, and she often won the spelling competition.

"Coruscant is a diverse place," Luke said, shortly. "But one thing people have in common is they find being called 'primitive' insulting."

Tyloid laughed as if he was joking.

Let me out of here, Luke thought, staring longingly at the door. So much for being sophisticated and mature.

A serving droid rolled up between them then, enquiring as to what Luke would like for a drink. Luke looked around, seeing everyone else had a glass of wine. Normally he'd order some juice or chilled water, or even milk, but perhaps that wasn't appropriate for this kind of dinner.

"The Toniray isn't half bad," Tyloid said, gesturing to his own glass. "One of the only things they do well on Alderaan."

"I'll try that, then," Luke said to the droid.

Some lights flashed across the droid's chest, and then it said, "I apologise. According to your dining profile, I cannot serve you a drink with alcoholic content. May I suggest a chilled junla juice?"

Tyloid made a snorting noise. "They keep you wrapped in cotton wool, huh?"

"A junla juice is fine, thank you," Luke said, struggling to keep his temper. He'd met other sons and daughters of visiting dignitaries over the years, and none of them had been like this. Normally just knowing the identity of his father was enough to give people pause.

To make things worse, one of the Imperial officials on the other side of the table asked Tyloid a question about Quasher's trading partnership with neighbouring Skayalo, and his entire tone and demeanor changed to one of politeness and respect. What was wrong with him, that someone like Tyloid felt entitled to be rude?

It was a relief when the droids began serving the food. Luke took a small amount of the few things he recognized, knowing from past experience it was better not to leave anything behind. He could always fill up later on.

Tyloid was silent while he was eating, something Luke was grateful for. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

"So why didn't your father stay for dinner?" he asked.

Because he didn't want to have to talk to people like you, Luke thought.

"He probably had something important to take care of," Luke said.

"What does he look like under the mask?'

Luke rolled his eyes. "So, I heard you were going to be a senator," Luke said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I was at the senate today."

"Good for you," Tyloid said, smiling. "So you don't like to talk about your father, huh? Why not?"

Luke looked around, wishing one of the adults would somehow save him from this.

"Why don't we talk about your father?" Luke suggested. "Was he born an archduke, or did he get elected?"

"Elected?" Tyloid said, sounding amused. "They really don't let you out much, do they? His mother is the Empress of Quasher, and he's next in line, so they gave him some silly title to use until he ascends the throne."

"So you are third in line?" Luke asked.

"No, I have an older brother and sister. They're both idiots though. My father isn't the brightest spark either, but even he was smart enough to see that neither of them could ever handle a job in the galactic senate. My brother is too busy seeing how many illegitimate children he can father with his household staff, and my sister has some new project involving a massive labour camp of conquered natives. She's inherited a little too much of our grandmother's brutal streak, but not enough of her brains, unfortunately. The whole thing will end with her being shot in the back if you ask me."

Luke almost choked.

"But me, I'm more savvy. More low key. Politics bores me, but I know how to play the game."

Privately, Luke thought 'low key' were the last words he'd ever use to describe Tyloid. He picked up his knife, and occupied himself with cutting his vegetables into even smaller pieces.

"So how do you keep yourself busy?" Tyloid asked. "I've been told Coruscant has the best nightlife in the galaxy. Where's the best place to pick up high quality girls?"

Luke felt himself blushing again, and Tyloid stared at him in disbelief.

"I don't believe this. You've never even spoken to a girl, have you?"

"I speak to many girls at school," Luke said. "I don't 'pick them up' at nightclubs."

"School? You attend school with the common herd? On my planet, the ruling class have private tutors."

Luke imagined what Ophelia Halifax would say about being referred to as 'the common herd'. "What can I say. I'm low key."

Tyloid smiled then. "So you've at least kissed a girl, then?"

It was moments like this that Luke wished desperately he wore a mask too. Then he wouldn't be quite so transparent.

"I can see I just got here in time," Tyloid added.

Luke put his fork down with a bang. "Excuse me."

No one stopped him as he half-ran for the exit.

Vader was pacing up and down in a nearby hall of sculpture when he paused beside a bust of an ancient Sith Master. Luke's presence in the Force flared with anger, causing waves to buffet against his shields. A moment ago, he'd been wondering if he was being an overprotective father by remaining in the vicinity instead of leaving his son to figure this out for himself. Now he had an answer.

He reached out along their bond, and Luke responded immediately. A moment later, he came through the entranceway, arms already raised dramatically.

"I can't do this!"

"What happened?" Vader asked, keeping his tone even.

"He's a complete and utter nerf herder! That's what happened!"

"So are most people I have to work with on a daily basis," Vader said, coming closer. "You must learn to deal with them."

"It's different for you," Luke said, turning away in a sulk. "You can be honest without consequences."

"Not always."

"Please don't make me go back there," Luke said. "Say I was sick and had to see a doctor. Better yet, say it's contagious, and I won't be able to see Tyloid ever again."

"Luke, if I made excuses for you every time life put an obstacle in your path, you would never learn to deal with difficult situations."

"At least tell the Emperor that I'm sorry for whatever I did to make him punish me like this."

"This isn't a punishment," Vader said. "It is an honor. Remember, you're doing this for the Empire."

Luke gave a deep sigh. "I'm doing this for you. And you're the only reason I would do this."

"That's good enough," Vader said, reaching up to flatten Luke's tousled hair.

"By the way," Luke said, ducking out from under Vader's hand. "Did you tell the palace droids to never serve me an alcoholic drink?"

"That sounds like something I would do," Vader said. "And given your low tolerance for such things, I am unlikely to be changing it."

Luke was about to protest, when he glanced aside. Vader turned to follow his gaze, and saw Mas Amedda enter the hall. He looked from Luke to Vader and then said, "I have had words with the young Quasher man over his lack of respect. He is most apologetic."

Vader placed a hand on Luke's shoulder, giving him a gentle push in the direction of the Grand Vizier.

"Luke will return to the dinner."

"I will?" Luke said, glancing up.

"Come now," Mas Amedda said, turning and gesturing for Luke to join him. "Walk with me, young man."

Vader gave Luke a nudge along their link, causing him to reluctantly sigh. He moved forward though, joining the Grand Vizier. Once they were out of sight, Vader resumed pacing.

"I know what you are feeling," the Grand Vizier said, walking slowly. He didn't seem in any hurry to return to the dining room. "I did overhear some of your conversation. You are wondering how someone so lacking in basic class can occupy as high a position as he does."

"Not exactly," Luke said. "He told me he was born into it."

"The Quasher royalty, and I use the term royalty lightly, are descended from pirates and escaped convicts who conquered the planet some centuries ago. It shows. They have none of our breeding or nobility."

Luke smirked. People were always talking about money and breeding around here, as if that said anything about someone's integrity. In Luke's experience, the richest people on Tatooine were also the most immoral. "My 'breeding' is a farming family from Tatooine."

"I'm aware. I'm also aware you are the son of the greatest queen Naboo has ever enjoyed."

"My mother was a great person, but unfortunately I never knew her."

"A shame. We rarely saw eye to eye but I admired her. Everyone did." He stopped to stare out a window, and Luke glanced up.

"Did she enjoy sitting through fancy dinners with annoying people?"

He smiled. "If she didn't, no one would have known. You are more like your father in that regard. Everyone always knows how he is feeling."

Luke smirked. Too true.

"It may help if you understand more about what it is we are doing here," the Grand Vizier continued. "Quasher is a small planet but has significant mining resources. Recently, a new valuable mineral has been discovered on its surface, and this is required by the Empire for vital military construction projects. Projects which will ensure the safety and security of us all. This dinner is the first stage in a process of securing those resources. There are those detractors who believe the Empire would accomplish this by sending in a fleet of Star Destroyers and laying waste to the population in the most brutal manner possible. That is far from the truth."

"Are you talking about people like the princess from Alderaan?" Luke said. "I met her at the senate."

"Yes, she is a prime example of such detractors. Instead, we have welcomed this Quasher delegation to the palace itself, and will treat them as honoured guests. I have already approved the appointment of the youngest son to the position of senator. Tomorrow, the governor will discuss the issue of their mining resources, and propose some favourable terms for a contract with the Empire. Within a few weeks, we will hopefully receive our first shipment."

"What if they don't accept the deal?"

"Let's hope they do. You can play an important role here by representing the new generation of Imperial leadership. A friendly young face who wants to improve the lives of our most vulnerable citizens."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "I don't think Tyloid cares about that at all."

"You're right. Your task with him will merely be to keep him occupied and out of trouble while he is our guest. That will impress his minders and contribute to their favourable impression of the Empire. We each have a role to play, Luke. It may seem small but it will have wide-reaching consequences."

"I'm not sure I—" Luke broke off as Lev came around the corner, looking left and right. It was late for him to still be on duty. "Lev? Are you okay?"

"Ah, Luke." He straightened and gave Mas Amedda a military bow. "Grand Vizier. Have either of you seen Lord Vader in this area?"

He sounded stressed.

"He's in the sculpture hall," Luke said, walking ahead of Lev and gesturing for him to follow. "I'll show you." Anything to delay having to return to that dinner a little longer.

His father came out of the hall as they approached, and he looked at Luke briefly before his gaze turned on Lev.

"Lieutenant," his father said. "Is there a problem?"

"Sir, your presence has been requested at the military command centre as soon as possible. The Rebels have attacked the Imperial Naval base in the Leryis system, near the Kuat drive yards!"

His father began walking towards the elevators, and Luke followed, curious to learn more.

"Losses?"

"One Star Destroyer and two corvettes were defending the base. One corvette was destroyed, the other boarded and captured. The Eradicator was badly damaged and forced to retreat into hyperspace. She has just arrived in system."

"What has become of the base?"

"We don't know, sir. Two Star Destroyers are rushing to defend it, but they may be too late."

Luke could sense his father was becoming increasingly angry as they entered the elevator.

"Who was in command of this disaster?"

"Captain Yahza was in command of the Eradicator, sir. He has provided senior command with some recordings of the battle, which he claims prove there was nothing he could do. General Jerel is already planning our retaliation in the command center."

There was a corridor that linked the Imperial Palace to the military headquarters. When they reached the junction past the security checkpoint, Lev glanced back at Luke and then moved to prevent him going further. His father had already walked on ahead.

"Luke, why don't you go and relax? This will take all night."

"I want to see the battle recordings," Luke said, pulling away from Lev's grip. This was the one aspect of his father's job that he was actually interested in.

"Trust me, Luke, you do not want to see this," Lev insisted, casting a nervous glance down the corridor. "Besides, the recordings are classified and you don't have clearance."

"But—"

His father stopped walking and turned back to stare at them.

"Luke may accompany me if he wishes," he said.

Luke brightened and made to go after him, but Lev still held him back.

"Sir, Captain Yahza is about to arrive at the command center to make his report."

His father was silent for a moment. "Very well," he said, finally. "Luke, return to the dinner. I believe you have a job to do."

He turned and walked onwards, leaving Luke and Lev alone. Luke frowned, sensing a conspiracy.

"You heard your father," Lev said, firmly.

"Okay, okay," Luke said, raising his hands. "No need to get uptight."

"I'm sorry, Luke," Lev said, averting his gaze. "This is a very bad situation for all concerned."

"Well, I hope you get some sleep," Luke said.

"So do I," Lev said, grinning at last. "But I'm not counting on it. How is the dinner with that Quasher delegation?"

"Dragging like a protocol droid with a broken leg. I'd rather go back to the ship hangar."

"Well, I doubt your father will notice if you do, and the Grand Vizier will assume you are still with your father," Lev said, winking. "Not that I'm endorsing playing hooky from a diplomatic dinner."

"I'll blame you if anyone catches me," Luke said, smirking.

He turned to leave and was careful not to look back as he followed the corridors towards the palace. Once he turned a corner, he flattened himself against the wall, and then peeked slowly around the edge. As he suspected, Lev had gone.

Luke was about to go back, when he hesitated for a moment, considering. Was this really a good idea? If Lev caught him, his friend would think he'd deceived him, and he'd lose his trust. If his father caught him ... seventeen or not, he'd be grounded for disobeying an order.

On the other hand, he was itching with curiosity and dying to see the battle recordings. He'd be careful to stay hidden and he wouldn't stay long. Just a few minutes. That would be enough to satisfy his interest. Besides, his father had said he should learn more about how the Empire was run. Here was a perfect opportunity.

The entrance to the military command center was guarded, but he entered just as two officers came out, and was not stopped. Either the guards recognized him, or they were half asleep and didn't see him.

There was a small group of officers in the foyer, talking in serious tones. They were too busy to notice him, and Luke walked quietly over to the stairwell. He'd been here a few times, and he knew the main command room was in front of him. If he wanted to avoid being seen, the best idea was to sneak up to the balcony level, so he could spy from above.

When he stepped onto the upper level, he heard voices down below. Time to be extra careful ... if anyone should look up and see him, there could be trouble. He slowly crept forward, and then crouched down, peering through a gap between two barrier panels.

There was a giant holoprojector on the floor below, showing red holograms of ships and planets. The walls were lined with hundreds of computer screens. His gaze was attracted by the largest one, which was currently showing static-ridden recordings of a space battle. That must be it.

Luke rose up on his knees, enjoying the view.

Vader felt his mood darken by the minute as he watched the battle recordings. A lethal combination of incompetent pilots and equally incompetent commanders.

"X-Wings," Vader observed.

"Yes, my lord," the general said. "Much faster than Y-wings."

Vader watched the lead X-Wing launch torpedoes, hitting the corvette's main bridge. It was followed up by its wingmates, and as they lifted away, the corvette erupted into flame, breaking apart.

"Sirs."

Vader turned and saw two stormtroopers had entered, escorting a navy captain between them.

"Captain Yahza," the general said, "we've been anxiously awaiting your report."

"I came as quickly as I could, sir," the captain said, walking forward. "I had to ensure the Eradicator was safe."

Vader felt his mood reduce even further—the man sounded remarkably relaxed, considering the situation. He should be on his knees by now, begging for his life. Anyone would think he was reporting a victory, rather than a dismal failure. He had indeed let his reputation slip too far. That was about to change.

"Lord Vader," the captain said, bowing in greeting.

"Captain," Vader replied, casually.

Luke strained hard to hear what was being said. He leaned over the railing, starting to wish he'd hidden somewhere down below. The captain was making his report, saying something about a damaged shield generator. His father stood listening, with his hands clasped behind his back.

Luke's eyes began to wander, and he noticed a monitor lit up with the image of a TIE and X-Wing engaged in an intense dogfight. Now this was what he'd come to see! He watched happily for a few seconds, and then glanced back at his father.

Something was wrong ... the captain's hands were wrapped around his throat, and he was gagging like he had swallowed a lemon whole. But no one was making any move to help him.

Luke frowned in confusion—then jumped in shock as he felt someone grab his arm.

"Luke!"

He whirled around, and found himself looking at Lev.

"Go! Quickly!"

He pointed in the direction of the exit, but Luke looked back down below.

"Wait ... what's he doing?!" The captain fell to his knees, and Luke had a horrible realization. "Oh burning stars, he's killing him! NO! Fath—"

His shout was cut off as Lev put a hand over his mouth and dragged him backwards. Luke struggled, but he didn't manage to break Lev's grip until they were at the top of the stairwell.

"I've got to stop him," Luke said, rushing for the stairs. He ran down them, two at a time, with Lev yelling at him to stop.

At the bottom, he ran headlong into two guards.

"Hold him!" Lev called, skidding up behind. "Take him into the corridor."

"Yes, sir."

"No!" Luke shouted, pushing against them with all his strength. Despite his best efforts, he was forcibly dragged, kicking and shouting, until he was in the corridor outside the entrance to IMH. Lev followed behind, and then ordered the guards to give them some privacy. The heavy doors sealed shut behind them.

Luke collapsed against the wall, his head spinning. He finally looked up at Lev, feeling betrayed in more ways than one.

"How could you?!" he said, almost shaking with anger. "How could you let that happen?"

"Luke, that man's fate was sealed as soon as he abandoned the base and entered hyperspace. If your father didn't do it, he would have been court martialed and executed anyway. You shouldn't have to see it ... that's why I told you not to come! Why didn't you listen?"

"What, so you can shelter me?" Luke said. "Hide the truth? You make me sick! You, Lieutenant Hicks, Commander Julius … all of you just look the other way! You know this isn't right!"

Lev looked rattled at his words. "What power do you imagine I have, Luke?"

"You could have let me talk to him!"

"There's no reasoning with your father when he's angry! You should know that by now."

"I could have stopped him. He would have listened to me! I could have saved him ... I could have ..." Luke felt his eyes fill with tears, seeing the image of the man falling to the floor, once again.

"This isn't your fault," Lev said, helping him up off the floor. "Your father makes his own choices."

"Why does he make them so wrong?"

"I don't know. But you will make your own choices. Better choices. That's why we—"

Lev broke off at the sound of the doors sliding open behind him. The Sith Lord in question stepped out, and was about to walk straight past, but he stopped when he saw them.

"I am leaving to join the efforts to hunt down these Rebels," he said to Lev. "Advise the flagship to wait for my arrival."

"Yes, sir," Lev said, his voice not bearing any sign of the tension.

Luke flinched as his father turned his gaze on him.

"I distinctly remember telling you to return to the dinner," his father said. "Why are you here?"

"Murderer!" Luke spat. He glared at his father for a moment, feeling an uncontrollable anger rising up in his chest. When it became too much to bear, he pushed past Lev and ran off down the corridor.

Vader was left staring after Luke's quickly retreating form, until his son disappeared around a corner.

"I take it he witnessed Captain Yahza's demise."

"Unfortunately, yes, my lord. He made a show of leaving, but sneaked back when I wasn't looking."

"No matter," Vader said. "He is too innocent for his own good. It is about time he understood the reality of command."

For a moment, he remembered how lacking in innocence his former self had been at Luke's age. He already knew what it meant to kill someone to serve the greater good. He knew the reality of war. He had done his best to shelter Luke. To give his son the childhood he'd never had. But perhaps he'd gone too far.

"Sir, should I see about informing the Eradicator's crew?"

Vader turned his attention back to the lieutenant. "Yes. Tell them their late captain was a cowardly, inept fool, and the average intelligence of Imperial officers has doubled, simply by his death. I will expect better from them in the future."

"Yes, my lord."

Vader walked on, planning his next move. He should make a brief report to the Emperor, and then depart as soon as possible. There was no time to smooth things over with Luke, if he could even find the boy to begin with. It was of no great concern. By the time he returned, his son would likely have forgotten the incident entirely.