21 The Epic: The Suspendered Moment - Trouble in Paradise

In the conference room, the meeting was already in session. Eva picked up bits of subject matter and hostility as she unhurriedly made the trip to the far side of the long table. She noted each player as she passed the back of their chair. The imposing craft that delivered those in attendance, dotted the starfield beyond the Eclipse's band of trapezoid windows.

"…More funding, when you haven't justified current over-expenditure?" Joint Chief Tzvii sneered.

Moff Jerjerrod responded, "For most part, the supply chain shortages were a byproduct of scheduling compression…"

"That's a creative way of admitting you're woefully behind schedule."

"It depends on which projection you're consulting." Jerjerrod was doing his best to maintain civility. "You'll notice I've separately itemized savings offset by the earlier extinction of the Alliance."

It was becoming harder to keep a neutral expression.

"I'd expect so. It's not for you to make any determination of disarmament, if there is any at all."

"Of course there will be some disarmament…" Jerjerrod smirked. "You completely underestimate the impact this weapon will make."

Councilor Ars Dangor cut in, "Not to mention, routing the Alliance is still up to question."

There was a noticeable uptick in tension as the room fell silent and attention shifted to the Emperor seated at the head. The last statement could have been construed as a personal affront. By then, Eva stood behind Palpatine and could not read his expression.

Finally the Emperor addressed them, "You haven't been convened to discuss strategy." As much as you'd prefer to do so without Vader's presence. "But in a few weeks' time, I believe you will find the landscape completely altered." He rose and began heading to the exit as she walked behind. "Blista-Vanee…fill the Death Star's funding gap at a hundred percent. Submit your proposal for the sourcing to Pestage.

"And the labour shortages?..." Moff Jerjerrod put forth hopefully just before the door slid shut with a hiss.

When Eva alone returned to the conference room, only Jerjerrod remained. He was seated engrossed in his datapad with his work clutter flung out across the table.

"I regret to interrupt. The ship will be making the jump to hyperspace soon. The Emperor has places he wants to be. I'm leaving the Eclipse myself. Will you walk with me to the main docking hanger and I'll arrange your shuttle?"

He hesitated then, "I'm not supposed to talk to you, now that you're a Greater Courtier." Jerjerrod had known her distantly from the time she served as Piett's adjunct.

Her lip curled in a wry smile. "Oh… that. No one pays attention to that protocol." Actually most did, but now she'd challenged his nerve. "Just please don't ask a favor of me. A word in with the Emperor, or anything," she begged with humility.

How very odd, thought Jerjerrod, that an effervescent, informal girl was kept by the Emperor's side. What piecemeal mystique the rest of the galaxy clutched so fleetingly, the Courtiers experienced in overload. There was a moment of silence, as each thought what to say next - so many subjects were restricted.

"I have seen you spoken to, at a ceremony. You were flanked by a Munn and a Pyke." Jerrod was polite - curious but guarded.

"The Emperor's staff likes to keep me book ended between the… least attractive. I would stand no chance of being seated by you, I'm afraid. But for the record, the Munn Anolo and the Pyke Kitz, were both fascinating…"

By then she was half leaning, half sitting on the conference table beside his datapad, indicating he needn't pack and rush off immediately. "Do you realize that the Kuat Drive Yards are operating with a full labor force? Those are the same construction modules, technicians and contractors you could use, aren't they?"

Jerjerrod nodded, confused.

"The labor there is managed by Director Wallace…," Eva continued. "…but within Joint Chief Tzvii's jurisdiction. The two of them have a mutual pact to help each other which started when Tzvii grossly miscalculated thorilide sourcing and Wallace negotiated a timely shipment. It saved face for Tzvii, along with his career path. Tzvii also accepted some questionable kick back in the form of three slaves staffing his private residence - ones that used to work the shipyards…or so I hear. If it were out in the open, Wallace would lose his currency with Tzvii. Some of the Kuat labor force would be freed up for you. If you can make it come to light anonymously…

"Our Emperor believes official compensation is more than generous. There is a lack of character in those who seek more…" She trailed off and watched through the viewports while one of the star destroyers shot into hyperspace.

Why in heavens would he discuss labour percentages with a handmaid? It left Jerjerrod off balance. And how would she know all that without Palpatine... "I can't believe if the Emperor was aware of this, he'd allow it. He abhors corruption. He wants DS-2 operational."

Eva lowered her head. The Emperor wasn't going to mentor or referee his officers. No… quite the opposite. He pitted them against one another and cast weak away. Just like his apprentices. The insight momentarily distracted her.

She felt a tinge of pity for Jerierrod - for the challenges he faced, for his artlessness. "This is the Emperor helping to get DS-2 operational."

Luxurious and scenic -the stretch of private beach where she lay was a high point of both. No other soul was in sight, save her entourage of guards and the occasional Imperial milling about the jungle base which the property adjoined. The Bothan Zakk was always positioning himself where Imperial installations abutted civilians.

Three cases of Domaine de la Maison sur le Lac from Naboo, procured by the Emperor's nephew Evan, went a long way to ingratiate Zakk. And as she expected, he offered himself as host and so was present for their stay at his tropical abode. She'd already let Zakk overhear a personal conversation with Marius about their relocation with the Emperor to the Death Star.

Too easy. Far too easy and she couldn't even relax. Eva had been made to do so many difficult tasks. She adjusted the shade and admired the stunning aqua of placid seas. This was certainly not one of them.

Eva was not bothered by the constant, distant scrutiny of her personal detail. She privately enjoyed being tethered to the Emperor. Although, as she made her way to the tiny structure set back into the palms to rinse sand off her belongings, there was a disturbing aspect to the supervision coming into play that very moment.

Every time she looked back in his direction, the Imperial Shoretrooper was a little closer. It practically seemed comical, if the danger wasn't so real. Eva stiffened and eased out of the line of sight from her guard, putting the structure between them. Her hand slipped inside her satchel to wrap around the grip of a SE-14R as the Shoretrooper slowly but blatantly approached, his own weapon lowered.

From her time as Captain, Eva was accustomed to carrying a small blaster whenever she was beyond Imperial restricted space. But now, to even be seen reaching for one would be self-destructive. If any threat was perceived, her own detail would take her out. Courtiers after all, were of no strategic value and wholly replaceable. But what they knew was a liability.

That was when he sprung. She abruptly dogged and fell off balance into a roll. Righting herself quickly enough a clear shot, her heart sunk as his approach was so inhumanly swift, her blaster was sent flying into the undergrowth. Her bare fists were ineffectual against his armor and he blocked her assault with inordinate strength. Trying to trip him was like kicking a boulder. His moves were defensive and it was clear he was trying to take her alive. She surprised him by bolting in the opposite direction of the three guards, leaving them unaware anything was amiss. Making every effort to keep down a full on panic, she had never felt so outmatched. Next thing she knew she'd made a face plant on the sandy path. Attempting to kick him off and flailing sand, she tried to wiggle free. She bit his gloved hand as he covered her mouth.

"Don't call out. I'm not here to harm you." His voice came muffled from under the helmet rather than through the modulator. Even with few words, the tone was familiar. But it couldn't be…"Luke?"

Of all the Rebels, wouldn't they send the one they thought she'd least resist? Questions chased themselves around her mind. "Do it. I know the hatred you feel for me." Her low voice welled up from someplace deep and feral. She twisted in exasperation.

"Jedi don't take revenge… I couldn't feel it, what you planned for us on Hoth. You were a blank… It's unfortunate. The lives…"

"Where's the former occupant of that armor you're wearing?"

"He'll survive." You win by living, not killing. He loosened his grip, so that his helmet was no longer pressed tight against her head.

"Hoth was for the greater good. To shut you down," she told him under her breath. He had shown her nothing but softness and kindness, and she had betrayed him. "How many lives will the Rebellion throw at an unbeatable Empire? Trying to tear it all up to leave chaos behind? Attack just strengthens their resolve, and harshness. And if you don't win?"

For the greater good. Words Luke often whispered to himself when he thought about the Death Star.

"…Less lives lost overall. Lives from any side. War is inefficient, a waste! All this destruction. ALL OF IT. Isn't needed…" She anxiously tilted her head to look for her guards from the corner of her eye. "If one person has control…" her voice dropped back to a whisper. "…you only have to change one person." And if Palpatine had to dip into that…freakish dark alchemy…to stay strong, so be it. Better than all the in-fighting, or worse, for a bunch of egos to be destroying stability fighting their way to the top. Thirty-five years, Palpatine had managed.

Luke stared at her blankly, then spoke with a tone completely free of judgment, "I don't think you understand who you're dealing with." He let go of her and rolled over in the sand, his frustrations easily apparent. On the narrow path he lay on his back and looked up at the lush palms and turquoise sky, through grey tinted Imperial lenses. He wasn't there to try to bring her back and turn her to good. Luke Skywalker was not going to rescue her.

"This isn't going like I wanted." He sat up and in the process clutched a lump of sand with his fist, examined it briefly, then cast it aside in disgust. He'd lost Ben and just hours before, Yoda as well. He'd never felt so alone. "Just by happenstance…and because of me…you know my father better than I." He glance up at her, long enough to affirm she understood who he meant. "Yes…you know." That was much was telling.

"I wasn't aware he was your father when I was on Hoth."

"I've had only fleeting moments with him. The worst possible moments."

"My allegiance is to Vader," she tried heading him off.

"Why?" His helmet turned to her. "Why do you want help and protect him? What do you know of him that I don't?" He pleaded, "Tell me…"

"Why are you here? Why would you even believe what I say!"

"Would you lie? When I've risked my life to speak to you?" He shook his head. "You are the only one, who knows both me, and my father as he is now."

Was he asking as a son, or an enemy? She hadn't told anyone the things Vader had confided in her, not even the Emperor (who fortunately had not asked.) She dug her toes into the sand and gathered her thoughts. Implicit in all he was saying, Luke was seeming to hold out hope for her. Against all reason.

"The mask," she began, "...everyone thinks Darth Vader is black. But he's not. He's gray - be it a very dark gray." She looked to Luke, wishing his face wasn't covered with the helmet.

Tell me what I already sense.

"He is not a monster," she sighed. "If you were on the same side, he would move the planets and the stars for you…"