A Chance Meeting
The simulation was over.
Luke and Hunter had come to a draw.
Luke could only moan as he brought his head to the yolk. I tied? I bet that high-ranking officer is going to have my hide. The terminal shut off and the pod's hatch opened, forcing Luke to meet whoever the officer was, and inexorably, determine what fate had in store for the young man.
"Well done Lieutenant," an older gentleman said, wearing the bronze-brown officer's tunic of a Grand Moff. The older man's face was thin and his features were sharp. The older man happened to be Grand Moff Tarkin.
"Thank you, sir," Luke replied crisply, though in his heart he didn't really mean it.
"You have proven to be a very capable pilot—you managed to tie Lord Vader."
Luke was thankful for his flightsuit's mask, as he paled at the mere mention of the Emperor's right-hand man. I tied with him? Luke found himself regretting everything he had ever said about the Dark Lord.
Before the conversation could go on further, however, the mechanical and laboured breathing of the dark figure interrupted. "You have done well, young Skywalker," the figure began.
Luke gritted his teeth, realizing Lord Vader was addressing him—and the young man happened to have his back turned on the man. Turning around slowly, he met the imperceptible gaze of the taller man. I'd always wished that I could be as tall as him, Luke thought lamely. "Thank you, Lord Vader," he bowed.
Vader eyed Skywalker closely, fully aware that the young man had covered his face in the mask. He's shorter than me, he thought lamely, as he tried to look for some suitable topic to speak of. His fists clenched, aware that the young man had tied with him. Luke tying with someone such as himself did not allow Vader to get used to such things, and it didn't make Vader any more comfortable about the power the boy wielded. "Your skills are useful, Lieutenant," he said at last, his laboured breathing filling the eerie silence in the room.
"Thank you," Luke said, his eyes shifting nervously towards either side of him. What do I say? "I—uh—I've always wanted to meet you," he said, closing his eyes and cursing in his mind. Nice topic—now he's going to kill me!
"And I've been looking forward to meeting you," the Dark Lord said, nodding. For all of those years dealing with aristocrats and politicians, Vader was thankful he had something to fall back on. "I've heard your skills are unparalleled."
"Well sir, it is my opinion that I try my hardest to be the best."
Vader smiled behind his mask, as Luke reminded the Dark Lord of the goals he had once carried. "Tell me, young Skywalker," he said, knowing full well that the young man was nervous and that this would most likely be the best time to spring his plan. "Do you know anything of the Force?"
"The Force?" The young pilot asked quizzically.
Intriguing, he thought. "Yes—the Force is an energy that surrounds us all, pulling us in its webs, binding us to the Universe," he said, remembering an ancient lecture by his old Master a long time ago. "There is hardly anything that can live without it."
Luke nodded slightly, almost as if he knew what the older man was talking about. Luke had, in fact, heard of this at some point. "I have heard of the Force—Ben, an old hermit I used to know, told me something about it."
"I see," he replied, "and is this 'Ben' still alive?"
"Old Ben? I don't think so," Luke said, furrowing his brow beneath the emotionless exterior of his mask.
"You and I shall have to have a talk about the Force—it runs strong in your family. I once…I knew your father."
Luke's expression lightened up and his heart skipped a beat, as he could scarcely believe what the Dark Lord of the Empire had just told him. He knew my father! Before Luke could say anything, however, a loud klaxon began to blare, as an officer rushed from the door, panting heavily.
"My Lord," the officer began, bowing, "we have captured a vessel."
Vader turned to face the officer, slightly angered that something had called his attention away from his son. He felt somewhat lightened, however, as he now had something with which to deal with. "I'll be on my way," he said, turning back to face Luke. "We'll continue this discussion at a later date, young Skywalker. We shall watch your career with interest." He grimaced slightly, remembering those words he heard from the man who would become his new Master so many years ago, when he was but a small boy.
"Yes, Lord Vader," Luke replied, bowing, as he watched Vader leave at a quickened pace. That was close, he sighed.
The Grand Moff faced Luke. "Your skills are quite impressive, Lieutenant," he said, trying to remember where he heard the vague surname of the pilot.
"Thank you, sir," Luke replied, tired but maintaining a crisp voice. When will this be over?
Almost as if to answer his silent question, Tarkin said, "I must attend to some…personal matters. I trust you'll attend to your duties, Lieutenant." Before he could leave, however, Tarkin paused for a moment and added, "I believe Lord Vader has taken an interest in you. You're the first pilot to match him stride for stride."
"Thank you, sir."
Tarkin nodded and left, adding the thought, it would appear that the Emperor should hear of this soon.
Vader traversed through the hallways and entered the turbolift, waiting patiently as it arrived to its stop.
He couldn't stop thinking about Luke.
He has my eyes and the gentle soul of his mother, Vader mused, feeling a cold, hollow feeling in his chest. Padmé, he thought, you would have been proud of the boy. He clenched his teeth, remembering the last time he would ever see her. It was obvious the boy hadn't been brought up by Padmé's family. It served as a reminder that he lost her before the boy was born and that she was nothing more than a bad memory that lived within the boy.
He felt a slight shaking and jingling, only to look down at his right hand, shaking slightly. He touched it with his left hand, calming it. He felt the phantom pains run across his arms and legs. The pain that had always found a way to remain there as a reminder of who he was and what he'd become.
A pain only Obi-Wan had brought to him but 20 years before.
Vader sighed. Perhaps my former Master is dead, he mused darkly. I would have suspected that he would have kept an eye on the boy, watching him grow and teach him the lies of the Jedi.
The door opened and he stepped out of the lift, turning to move down the curved hallway that revealed a large, battered freighter in its adjoining hold.
Vader entered the hangar, noticing the sharp precision of the Stormtroopers who stood at attention, while others ensured the freighter was secure. He strode towards it, sensing no life aboard it.
Almost as if to confirm his feelings, a dark clad officer met the Dark Lord. "We've searched the vessel, Lord Vader," he explained, "there is no one aboard it. One escape pod has been jettisoned and the computer's log reports that the crew abandoned ship just after take-off. It's markings match that of the freighter that escaped Mos Eisley."
"Perhaps they were attempting to return the stolen plans to the Princess," he mused. "Sending a scanning party aboard—search every piece of that ship. This could still work in our favour." Vader nodded and the officer left. He focused on the hull of the ship, probing the signs of life and looking to see if they had hidden themselves within the vessel. Instead, he felt something masking itself, almost as if it didn't want to be hidden. As he continued to prod, feeling a similar tingling sensation run down the base of his spine, he found himself feeling a small iota of the presence of a man. An old man. A man he had not seen for a very long time.
"I sense a presence I haven't felt since…"
Fire.
Ash.
"You turned her against me!"
"You were the Chosen One!"
"I hate you!"
"You were my brother…I loved you."
Searing pain.
Fire.
Ash.
Vader's eyes grew darker and his upper lip curled into a snarl behind his mask. He turned and stormed off. So, you've come to finish the job, Old Man.
The stormtroopers moved throughout the ship, seeing nothing but standard components on a relatively abandoned ship. For all they cared, it was nothing more than a ghost ship. Spotting each other, the pair made their way down the landing ramp, leaving the ship to bask in its own emptiness.
A few moments later, a deck plate shifted, moving away to reveal a wary Han Solo.
"These plates have come in handy," Obi-Wan said quietly, rising from his hole.
"Yeah, I smuggle things through here. I never thought I'd be smuggling myself."
Chewbacca rose, revealing his upper torso as he let out a low growl of relief.
"Now we need to get out of here," Han muttered. "But we're not going anywhere without that tractor beam engaged."
"Leave that to me," Obi-Wan said, sensing the powerful presence of Vader, his former Apprentice. The old man had achieved the ability to mask his presence, however in ensuring that his companions would not be discovered, he masked theirs, revealing his presence in such a way that only a Jedi would have known it were him. Or worse, a fallen Jedi.
"Damn fool," Han replied, unaware of Obi-Wan's foreboding expression, "I knew you were going to say that."
Obi-Wan glanced at the smuggler. "Who's more foolish? The Fool or the Fool who follows him?"
Han merely scoffed. "You better have that tractor beam down."
"I will."
Chewbacca let out a growl of confidence in the old man.
The pair of Imperial officers carrying the large scanning equipment moved sloppily as they treaded up the ramp.
"Let us know if you hear anything up there," TK-421 said, as he guarded the ramp.
One of the officers nodded and the pair made their way up there.
Moments later, a loud thud could be heard, followed by another loud thud.
"Hey down there," a voice rang out, "could you give us a hand?"
TK-421 glanced at his companion and nodded. The pair moved up the ramp, leaving the freighter unwatched.
Moments later, a loud thud and a distinct mechanical whining could be heard.
Eerie silence followed.
Above in the watchtower, a greenish-yellow clad officer spoke through an open channel. "TK-421, why aren't you at your post?"
No reply.
"TK-421, do you copy?"
Almost as if to answer him, a lone white-clad stormtrooper came down the ramp, looking up to the control room, pointing at his helmet.
Figures, the officer thought. He turned to face his compatriot. "Stand by, we've got a communication malfunction. He turned around and moved towards the door, opening it, only to be shocked as he was greeted by an enraged wookiee and an old man with two droids behind him.
In a blur, the wookiee pulled his crossbow and fired into the officer's chest, sending him back, while the old man shot forth, igniting an azure shaft of pure energy that sent a bolt flying back at the officer's companion, who fired it, square in the chest.
Moments later, the lightsaber deactivated and the clad stormtrooper, TK-421, came running down the hallway, locking the door and removing his helmet to reveal a shaggy haired Han Solo. Eyeing the scene, Han complimented, "not bad."
Obi-Wan nodded subtly, "thank you. Now if we can find where this tractor beam control is, then perhaps we'd be on our way quickly." His eyes shifted towards the computer terminal that R2 had begun to slice. Obi-Wan brought his hands into the folds of his robes, rubbing the cold sweaty and grimy hands on the cloth. He's here, he thought, hoping that Han and the others didn't know that Obi-Wan appeared apprehensive.
He knows I am here, the old man thought resigned to the inevitable. He had to protect the others and knew full well that Vader was here now and knew that the old man was on board. Obi-Wan also felt the presence of another—someone he thought he would never have found.
He felt the presence of Luke.
"Master Kenobi," C-3PO began, "R2 has located the tractor beam control terminals."
Obi-Wan nodded, looking through the readouts and turned around. "You stay here—I'm going to have to do this alone."
Han brought his hands up diplomatically, "I ain't going to argue, Old Man. Just hurry up, will ya?"
Obi-Wan nodded. I'm coming for you Luke, he thought determinedly, his fists clenched as he threw his hood over his head. He walked out of the room, moving as if he were stalking his prey throughout the polished floor and hallways of the Death Star. His hands caressed metallic cylinders on either side of his hips.
Obi-Wan moved towards his destiny, knowing he would soon have a chance meeting with Luke and Darth Vader.
Author's Notes: I know, this was really delayed and not as long as I hoped, but I had a bout of writer's block. But soon I shall have the ball rolling--and we shall see what fate befalls Kenobi, Luke, Leia and of course, Vader.