Disclaimer: Do I really need one of these? If you really need one, see first post or something.
Well, here's another post, just before my midterms start.
Part V
Half awake, Leia rolled off her cot. Some days, she just did not want to budge from her bed – just sleep the hours away. Sleep was now the best part of the day. The only part when she did not feel like she was coming undone. Her life was falling apart. She hadn't thought it could get worse after she'd lost Han – she no longer avoided thinking about it. Whether she locked it away in her mind or not, it felt the same. Not only had she lost the love of her life, she was forced to watch the Alliance – all that she lived for - be reduced to practically nothing. They were losing bases at an alarming speed, and they were left with a meager excuse for a fleet. They could destroy their fleet, but not their spirit, Leia knew.
She would survive, even if all was lost. Even if there were but a handful of them left, they would stand strong. What ripped her apart was watching her best friend break. He said nothing. He tried to be as cold and aloof as he could; he even tried to be hostile and spiteful. He tried to drive her away, perhaps so that she would not care when he would be lost to death or madness. You do not fool me, my naïve friend. I see right through you. I see the despair in your eyes. I know you are hurting…I know you don't sleep anymore. I know you cry when you are alone. I feel the anguish, and witness the war inside you. If only he would drop the façade. Then, they would have each other… But we do. I'm here, whether you know it or not.
…But you are not. I don't think I can hold on much longer…
Luke blinked, eradicating the last remnants of sleep. The ceiling above was not his. It was not as cracked, not quite as filthy and had a different kind of fungus growing on it. Now how had he gotten here…Oh Crap. Now he remembered. What had he been thinking? The last thing he needed was to drag people down with him. Damn…What was he to do now. Next to him, Jade – beautiful, charming Jade – moaned and absently threw her arm over his bare chest. Gently, he removed it and sat up.
"Mmmff…Where you goin', flyboy...?"
"Sorry, I have to go, Jade. I'll be back." He bent down and kissed her, and promptly took his leave. As much as he would have loved to stay, he had to see Leia. Though she was far too attached to him for her own good, Luke just could not leave her that way. He could not let himself be this cold.
He knocked on her door, but Leia would not answer. She probably wanted nothing to do with him. When she finally did open the door, he fully expected her to rage at him, maybe even beat him half to death with a hairbrush, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight inside.
Her modest quarters were a disaster area, her things spread all over the place, the shards of a dirty mirror and empty bottles of Corellian ale strewn all across the floor. In the middle of it was a completely inebriated, unresponsive Leia. Oh Force, what have I done…
…Your fault…
…Failure…
…Worthless…
…Maybe you should just kill her…
…Put her out of her misery…
Shut up!
Give in…All it takes is one shot of a blaster…
Won't do it…
…Do it! It will bring you all that you want… It's the only way…She is worthless rebel scum anyway…
You're WRONG!
Yes, the voice was wrong. He would never listen. Next time it would try something, he would laugh in its face. Maybe it would go away. No maybe. It will go away. Just need to wait long enough. Patience, stupid, reckless one. With a heavy sigh, he bent down to pick her up.
"I'm so sorry, Leia. Please forgive me. I…I didn't know what I was doing. I just wanted to protect you. I know you probably hate me now, " He choked out, his voice starting to break.
"Just know that I am truly sorry. I'll never hurt you again, I swear it! Never."
" Please forgive me," he whispered.
"S'okay…still love ya…" She slurred drunkenly. With the sheer quantity of alcohol she had ingested, she would wake up to one hell of an unpleasant surprise. He set her down on the cot, the only remotely orderly spot in the room.
/Sleep…/
Leia drifted off in a few seconds – hopefully she would sleep off most of the effects.
Darth Sidious' plan was taking effect, but there was still one major obstacle. Its name was Darth Vader. Vader was a good slave, of course – he fulfilled all his orders and more, but he was thinking dangerous things. If Sidious was not careful, Vader would soon turn on him, and that was definitely not what he wanted. That, and he was not immortal. He could, of course, clone Vader, but that would cost more time than was available. And why settle for less when you can have more? That was what it came down to. Power. Vader was immensely powerful, the armor having no impact on it, but Sidious sensed that his brat would very soon surpass him. Young Skywalker was also as naïve as Lord Vader had once been, and Sidious would use it to his advantage.
Vader, on the other hand…He would soon be taken care of, so to speak. His shuttle was riddled with explosives, and Darth Sidious had made considerable efforts to conceal them amidst strands of darkness. Vader would soon be gotten rid of. If only the fool had known that he would so swiftly be disposed of twenty-one years ago, when he had destroyed his own kind.
What the Dark Lord did not know was that his apprentice had been two steps ahead all along. While he had been planning his betrayal, he had been utterly oblivious to his would-be victim's own plans. As he remained caught in his own musings, the doors burst open, and enraged, black-armored Sith Lord flew at Sidious. He moved with the grace of a fallen angel, cape rippling behind him. The anger and ferocity of Darth Vader's blows could only be matched by that of the Sith himself.
But it was not Vader that fought with such passion. This was not the wrath of a Sith. No, it was that of a father. Ultimately, it was all that mattered. Lord Sidious was slain.
Luke Skywalker sighed as he exited the room where the rest of his squadron were drinking themselves into oblivion – and having a good time at that. He, on the other hand, had had just about enough of booze that morning. Then again, a healthy (or unhealthy) dose of alcohol might have done him good. Still, he was not in the mood for socializing. Hell, if they knew who I am, they wouldn't come within a lightyear of me…He toyed with the idea of spilling the beans, then smirked. Yeah. And I'm sure they'd keep me around, even though I'm the emperor's slave's son.
Yes, he knew that under the title and the mask, Vader was just a slave. He did not know how he knew this. Maybe it was because no one could ever want such a life. Maybe it was purely intuitive. Whatever it was, a part of him wanted to free him, to break the chain.
Another part wanted to kill him, to slay the monster, to drive his blade through Vader's dark, frozen heart. What blade? Remember how he defeated you? Remember how you screamed? Remember what he said? Remember how you jumped down that shaft? Remember how you almost let go of the vane? It didn't matter. He's my father. Does that not mean anything? Did it not? No. He deserves to die. He wiped out the Jedi. He tortured your friends. He has killed millions. Could he not be redeemed? Was there still good in him? No. Wasn't there? What does it matter? You can't save him. You will never be good enough. You will fail.
"Don't tell me you're disappearing on us again," Said a fairly drunk Wedge, a most idiotic grin plastered to his face.
"Does it look like I'm planning to stay?"
"C'mon, you're no fun!" Still with the stupidly cheerful countenance. Luke started to walk away, but his annoying friend followed.
"Yeah, I absolutely love ingesting poison until I tip over." The grin lessened a little bit, but not nearly enough.
"Never knew sarcasm was your thing…C'mon…" Luke felt his face grow stiff. Someone getting angry?
"No. Leave me alone," was his flat reply, but it was getting mighty hard not to lash out. He kept walking, until they hit a poorly lit dead end near some storage room.
"Man, you really need to loosen up." No, that was not what he needed. What he needed was to be alone.
"Go away!" His shouted response had no effect on his friend – friend?
"Come on, you're never around anymore…Y'know, I think I liked you better before you went all dark and broody." This was getting tiring, and his patience grew short.
"What part of go away do you not understand! Leave. Me. Alone." But Wedge did not go away, and before he knew it, Luke's blaster was out and drawn, his finger on the trigger, Wedge backed against the wall, with genuine fear on his face. There was something in the eyes, the look of an animal trapped by a predator…Struggling to keep his breathing even, he started to lower the blaster. His muscles would not obey him – the blaster stayed drawn, and his finger pressed down on the trigger. Don't let go…don't let go of it; you'll kill him…Sweat dripped down his palm. His finger slipped.
I bet you want to throw me off the cliff right now.Well, as long as you review...
