Thank you for your kind words and reviews. Yes, my version of Vader is pretty mean. He is the bad guy, after all. -T.
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The signal to move in didn't take as long as Han had expected. But it was a little more of an abrupt indicator than he had been anticipating.
With a suddenness that made him jump, there was a crash and the sound of shattering transparisteel. Solo flinched back as a flash of electric blue blade sliced through, humming menacingly outward, then disappeared again.
He heard a woman's voice. "Luke!" and then another ominous crash.
Well, that was his cue.
Han's eyes darted around to check for anyone aiming a blaster in his direction, saw none, and scrambled down to the landing, level with the shattered window, Luke's voice shouting just as he straightened to peer into the gloom of the empty room, "Han, get her out of here!"
Then a nearer voice: "Han!" It was the Princess, alive and well, seated at a rustic table, hands shackled awkwardly behind her, her face alight with hope and worry all mixed together.
Han cleared the jagged edges of the shattered transparisteel in one awkward leap, grinned at her in spite of himself. "At your service, Highnessness."
She made a face, trying not to smile in her relief, twisted back. "Get me out of here - hurry!"
He made a face back as he pulled his vibroblade from his boot. Was there ever a time when she wasn't issuing orders?
Leia looked dubiously at his blade. "I don't think that knife is going to be able to cut through these cuffs."
Solo knelt down near the back of the chair to inspect the binders, ignoring her. His blade was a multi-tool with a few options. He flipped through several of them. "Sure could use the kid's lightsaber about now," he muttered.
As if on cue, there was another crash of saber blades from the corridor, and the bass rumble of Vader's voice, very angry.
"Hurry," the Princess repeated, twisting to the door again, her fists balled in worry.
Han shushed her. "I'm trying, okay? This takes a minute." He finally found the tiny saw feature on his blade, activated it. "Don't move unless you want to lose a hand," he ordered sternly. Leia immediately held still.
It took a few minutes, the steady whine of the miniature saw uncomfortably loud in the sudden silence. Luke and Vader had moved down the corridor, and the clash of saber blades faded with them. "He's going to get himself killed," Han muttered unhappily.
Leia didn't respond.
With a snap of metal, the cuffs snapped free of the chair. "There!"
Leia yanked her hands free in front of her and leapt to her feet, her right hand going to rub away the pain in her shoulder.
Suddenly there was a thundering boom from the distant corridor. Han traded looks with the Princess. Whatever that just was, he would like to be far, far away from it as soon as possible. He grabbed Leia's wrist, dashed back to the window. "Come on!"
But she jerked back. "Wait - we can't leave Luke to Vader. We have to help him!"
Han shook his head, not willing to risk getting caught because Leia Organa wanted to stop and argue with him. "Princess, the kid can take care of himself." She raised an eyebrow at that one. "Okay," Solo amended. "He can take better care of himself if we stay out of his way."
"Like hell," Leia muttered, her expression disbelieving. "Did he tell you to say that?"
Han pulled her toward their escape. "He told me my first priority is to get you to safety, and that's what I'm going to do."
She stumbled after him, stepped carefully over the jagged shards of the window. "I'm not leaving without him."
She was going to prove to be the galaxy's most irritating female. "No one's leaving without Luke," Han ground out. "But we're getting out of here right now. No use to the kid if we both get caught."
The stairs groaned with their added weight. Solo headed downward, the Princess's wrist still firmly in his grasp, pulling her along behind - as if he was afraid she would dart off at any moment and try to run after Luke. The wind whipped his hair, tiny snowflakes pelting his exposed skin.
"Lovely weather we're having this evening," he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly there was a gasp behind him and Leia jerked to a stop. Solo turned back to snap something at her when he saw it too: five stormtroopers coming around the corner below, conversing casually with each other. All they had to do was look up.
Sitting pittins, he thought for the second time in an hour.
They stood, frozen for a moment until Leia deftly freed her hand and began creeping back up the stairs.
What in blazes was she up to?
Glancing quickly back down, Han realized they didn't have much other choice if they didn't want to walk straight into the Imperials' arms. They were outnumbered, with one blaster between the two of them. Shooting them would be out of the question if they hoped to keep a low profile and actually get out of here.
Moving much more slowly this time, he followed Leia back up the stairs, testing each step for its potential to creak, which could give them away.
Don't look up, he pleaded to the white-armoured figures down below. His blaster was in his hand just in case. He figured if he heard a shout, he could get off at least two shots before anyone would be able to fire at him.
Going back into the room they had just vacated seemed like a bad idea. Who knew how many troopers still guarded the other side of the door? At the same time, shattering a window on a different level would certainly give them away. And the stairs had a very distinct dead end two and a half meters below the roof, which would make getting to the roof more difficult than getting off it was.
They communicated this roughly through hissing whispers and angry pantomimes.
Finally, Han gesticulated to the tow cable, still dangling over the edge of the roof, swaying slightly in the wind, indicating that they were going up and over.
"Are you crazy?" Leia hissed at him.
"I'll pull you up, your Worship," he shot back, setting forward again. Luke wasn't the only one who could climb vines.
At the top of the stairs, with another glance down at the Stormtroopers still milling around, he fisted the thin rope in his hands. Leia moved aside slightly for him to be able to jump. He glanced at her; thin, gauzy jacket blowing against her in the wind. She looked cold.
"Do you know how to do this?" he asked, nodding at the cable.
She smiled benignly, not amused at being patronized. "I think I can manage. After you, Captain."
Solo sneered at her rebuttal, tossed her his blaster in case someone started shooting at them. "Hold this, will you?"
He seized the rope with both hands, swung his feet up to the brick wall and began climbing, booted feet walking up the wall. The cable dug painfully into his hands, the wind whipping around him as he approached the rooftop and the end of the feeble shelter the wall had brought.
Once he pulled himself up to the top, heaved himself up to the snow-covered roof, he reached down to give Leia a hand. But she was already tossing the blaster up to him, catching the cable. It turned out she didn't need much help at all - she'd clearly done this before. Han tucked that fact away under the category of Things That Should No Longer Be Surprising. When Leia reached the edge, he grabbed her arms and pulled her over, quickly.
They'd made it - and no one had sounded an alarm.
Leia got to her feet and brushed herself off. The wind whipped her jacket around her like a flag. She crouched down near Han. "What's our next move? How are we going to help Luke?"
Solo hooked his thumb behind them. "Me and Luke got up here from the stairs on that side. We might have to wait it out if it's overrun with Stormtroopers though. Here," he took off his thick parka and handed it to her.
Hesitantly, surprised at his gesture, she took it. "Thank you."
Solo waved her off. No time to get sentimental. "Come on, let's go check it out."
She frowned, slipping her arms into the parka, and pushed to her feet.
"Leia, keep down," Solo hissed after her when she straightened. They might be on the roof of a building, but it was by no means the tallest one and Solo had no idea who else might be lurking around on the roofs or at windows. It would be great not to advertise their location to everyone who might want to take a potshot at them.
She glared, ducked down. Han scrambled after her across the roof to the far side, dashing behind the cover of the airshaft unit.
What he saw suddenly turned his blood to ice.
"Luke!" the Princess gasped beside him.
The building across the way was shorter by about two levels. It was more rectangular, with no fire escape stairs in sight. Standing square in the middle, glowing sabers locked in a standoff, were two figures, one much taller than the other, black cape flapping in the wind.
With a dizzying blur of blue and red, the lightsabers moved, crashing, the two wielders circling each other. The larger of the two pressed the advantage brought by his tremendous bulk, leaning in, the crackling of the blades audible from where Han and Leia were crouched.
Suddenly, with a blur of movement, Luke rolled, backflipped somehow, and managed to leap clear of Vader's blade. He did not wait for the dark lord to recover from his stumble before he was running toward him, slashing furiously, a blur of blue-white light.
A sharp yell from the young Jedi and it looked for a moment that Luke had disarmed his opponent, hooking Vader's weapon out of his hands and sending it arcing through the air.
As the lightsaber was flying through the air - curiously changing direction and sailing back to Vader's outstretched hand in the process - the Sith lord extended his other hand to Luke's direction just as Luke had raised his own saber to attack. The young man suddenly doubled over with a cry, as if struck, dropping awkwardly to one knee.
Beside Han, the Princess gasped angrily, jerking to her feet, just as Han yanked her back down. She turned to spew venom in his direction, but Solo was already hissing at her to be quiet. "There's nothing we can do for him like this," he muttered angrily. "Don't give away our position and give Vader more ammo by distracting the kid."
Han bit down on his lip, even as he saw Luke regain his feet and swing two-handed to block another blow. He didn't like it, but it was true. "Luke's trained for this. He knows what he's doing."
Leia looked like she was trying to reign in her temper. Solo could see the fear shining in her eyes. She was afraid for Luke. "Where," she asked shakily, "did he learn to fight like that?"
Han glanced at her sidelong. "He's been pretty busy since we left." He again surveyed the roof where they sat, crouched against the airshaft unit, considering. The snow was coming down thickly, layering small white drifts over everything, then promptly scouring away again in a burst of cold wind. They were sitting nerfs if they stayed up here, and no help to Luke at all. If they could get to the speeder, they could get out, past the jamming and call Chewie to come pick them up.
If Luke could hold on that long.
Solo frowned, another burst of wind sending stinging sleet into his face. That was a pessimistic thought.
In any case, staying here wasn't accomplishing anything but to increase their chances of getting caught. He grabbed Leia's hand. It was cold. "It's time to leave this party," he muttered. For once, she had the good sense not to argue with him. "Come on."
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Rieekan and Danlin made it to the third floor without encountering a single soul. By the second floor, they could hear voices - the familiar mechanical, tinny sound of Stormtroopers. Still not knowing the status of their colleagues or how many troopers remained in the building, they beat a hasty retreat back up to the third floor, which appeared to be deserted.
The windows on this level were painted over, completely opaque.
"Are there any back exits from this floor?" he asked Danlin.
Wordlessly, the younger man pulled his pocket navigator, fine, blue hairlines of the building's schematic projecting in a holograph above the silver disc.
A sound from the stairwell made Rieekan jerk in surprise, his blaster immediately pointed at the door. After a long moment of silence, he relaxed slightly.
"Two others sir," Danlin whispered. "Both at the rear of the building."
"What are the odds they aren't being guarded right now?"
"It's worth a shot, sir."
Rieekan chewed his lip for a moment, thumbed his comlink, almost as a nervous habit - static - and nodded shortly. "Okay, let's try the south corner."
For once, the odds were in their favor: the south door wasn't guarded from the inside. Before he shot off the lock, Rieekan considered how many troopers might be waiting to meet them on the other side. He put his ear to the door for a moment: silence.
"Ready?" he whispered.
Danlin swallowed and nodded, his own blaster in his right hand, thumb over the safety.
The shot rang out deafening against the metal and stone of the stairwell, melting the lock with a blinding red flash. Rieekan and Danlin both hugged the wall behind where the old-fashioned hinges would swing if someone pushed the door open from the outside, hearts thudding in their ears.
They waited in tense silence, ten seconds, then twenty.
No one.
Carefully Rieekan pushed away from the wall, nodded curtly to Danlin, and grasped what was left of the door handle. It appeared not to have been opened for some time, corroded as it was to the frame. He gave the door a mighty pull, and with a tremendous too-loud shriek of metal, it came free.
A flurry of snow and dead leaves rushed the entrance in an icy puff of wind.
"Freeze!" cried a tinny voice.
Rieekan stopped in his tracks. A single Stormtrooper, heavy carbine aimed squarely at the Rebel General, stood at the door, not five feet back. "Drop your weapon!"
Rieekan did so, leaning to set it carefully on the ground in front of him, careful to keep his hands visible. There were no more troopers in sight.
"Step forward!" barked the voice, menacing. From the corner of Rieekan's eye, he saw Danlin move, position his blaster slowly to the gap in the hinged door.
Rieekan took a step forward, held his breath.
Suddenly a blinding red flash and the trooper collapsed in a heap without even firing a shot.
Rieekan leapt forward, snagging his weapon. Another couple of heartbeats later, it was clear there weren't reinforcements - yet - and he motioned to Danlin.
"Let's go."
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Luke had no plan, was tiring quickly, and felt his options narrowing. He and Vader exchanged blow after blow, the force of the strikes reverberating down his arms until they felt numb with the vibration of the saber and the icy sting of the wind.
"My son," Vader rumbled, parrying another of Luke's over-swings. Luke was getting tired and knew he was getting sloppier.
"You do not get to call me that," he hissed through gritted teeth, striking back with three quick jabs to the midsection which the Sith lord barely caught. "A father is more than just blood. It's a title you have to - " jab, parry, strike - "earn!"
Luke spun away from Vader's backhanded swing, planting both feet on the slippery, snow-covered surface. The wind slung pelting snow into his face. He blinked rapidly, ignoring the pain of the cold.
"But you are my son," Vader continued, unfazed, advancing on him.
Luke spun, out of reach of the next parry, anger coursing through him, warming him momentarily. "I'm more than a" - jab, parry - "possession to be claimed!"
"Join me," the dark lord continued as if he had not heard Luke at all. The cold did not seem to bother him in that suit. "On the dark side of the Force. Together we could defeat the Emperor and rule as father and - "
"Not...interested!" Luke parried furiously in quick succession, one, two, three, four. Vader fell back momentarily from the onslaught. Luke's only hope at winning this duel would be to back the sith lord to the edge of the roof. "I will never join you!" He cried, his voice carrying away in the wind. "You have no claim on me!" Vader backstepped again.
Perhaps to both their surprise, Luke got a strike in, his saber catching the edge of Vader's shoulder armor. The dark lord roared in fury and pain, hooking Luke's saber with his own and catching it with enough force as to bat it aside.
That moment was all Vader needed.
In a blur of movement, the crimson saber flashed in front of Luke's eyes, sweeping deftly through Luke's right arm.
Suddenly his world exploded into white hot, searing pain.
It was a long moment of his vision blanking out in knifing agony before Luke could register what was in front of his eyes; realize the sound of someone screaming was his own voice. His right hand, inexplicably, ended at the wrist, the blue glow of his lightsaber arcing away, through the air, sailing over the edge of the building's flat roof, its light burning a line across Luke's vision before it disappeared into the inky darkness beyond.
Luke stared in frozen horror at the stump of his arm, collapsing to his knees in shock, his voice choked off now to a hoarse silence. Then at Vader, also locked in place, lightsaber still activated, pointed now to the ground, thumb over the power button. The agony cutting through Luke's arm and shoulder was so intense he almost blacked out.
It was another long moment before he realized his voice was screaming again, his arm tucked protectively under his left armpit now, his vision beginning to tunnel.
"What - ?" he rasped, voice raw, his eyes glaring daggers at the dark form towering unmoving over him. "What kind of a father - ? " he couldn't finish, for the hot, knifing pain left him gasping, his words ending in another sharp cry.
Vader stood frozen, unmoving, neither taking advantage of the situation by driving his blade home through his now disarmed opponent, nor deactivating the lightsaber.
What kind of a monster would maim his own son?! Luke screamed through the Force, through that connection Vader had sought for so long to make, bombarding Luke's shields from even light-years away. He thought, but could not be sure, that he felt the dark lord flich under the accusation before Luke slammed those shields up again. Thought too, for a moment, he sensed danger; another threat, a siren of warning in his mind. He focused now on the snow-covered roof where he knelt, his knees cold and wet, though, strangely, he could not feel the sting of the icy water soaking through his pant-leg. He used his left hand to push himself unsteadily to his feet, boots sliding for a moment in the snow, shuffling a step away from Vader and the insect-like humming of the lightsaber, blinding now in the low light of dusk, the wind pushing at him, howling anguish in his ears.
The edge of the roof was a mere five feet from where he stood.
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They were at the edge of the roof now, easing onto the new set of stairs - without a cable this time - Han noting with satisfaction that on this side of the building they were sheltered on three sides by windowless brick walls, no Stormtrooopers below. They could still hear the crash of sabers over the wind, still see the sparking white flash of light every time the super-heated plasma swords collided, the combattants inching slowly to the far side of the roof.
Han had a hold of Leia's wrist again, leading her down the stairs, gesturing sharply in the direction of the place he and Luke had hidden their speeder. It was not far. They were going to make it. He could -
Suddenly there was an anguished scream - an inhuman sound reverberating between the canyon-walls of the buildings. Han jerked his head up to see Luke, on his knees, arm clutched to his stomach, Vader towering over him like a vengeful demon ready to deliver the death-blow.
"Luke!" Leia cried in terror, all caution about not being noticed completely forgotten. Han stood frozen in place, heart in his throat. Luke was stumbling to his feet, screaming fury at the dark lord, the words carried away in the wind. Vader rumbled a response, still not making a move to deliver the final blow.
Vader wants him alive. He wants him alive, Han repeated to himself like a mantra, grasping the princess's wrist again to pull her down, out of the way of potential fire. Her face was stricken, white with cold and shock.
"Luke!"
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The wind sliced through the tight weave of his tunic, threatening to topple him. Luke ground his teeth, pushed at the pain. They were four or five stories up, which wasn't exactly his prefered height for jumping, but with the aid of the Force -
"Luke. You do not yet realize your importance," Vader cut into his swirling consciousness. Luke backstepped again, willing his mind to block the pain arcing through his arm, lancing to his shoulder. His chest felt tight - it was starting to feel like he couldn't draw a breath. "Your importance to the Empire. You could rule by my side, as my son."
Luke fumbled clumsily for calm, for the center Master Yoda had taught him, shutting out the dark lord's voice. He boxed the pain into a compartment, shut his mind against it. "I'll never join you!" he rasped with an animosity that surprised even him.
Clumsily, he shuffled back another step, Vader moving with him, that red blade still menacing. Luke wondered in the part of his mind completely overrun by wild panic if Vader would go for his other hand.
What kind of a father…
He didn't finish the thought. He pushed the fear and blinding pain down, away into its small box, lid shut, focused only on the goal a few stumbling steps behind him. With the aid of the Force, he could slow his fall, cushion his landing. By now Han would have gotten Leia away from here. He would find a speeder, or a ship. He would escape.
Vader was speaking again, rumbling voice forming words Luke couldn't understand, gauntleted fist extended, saber still loosely en garde.
Immersed in the Force as he was, two things jolted him. The first was Leia's presence very close by - fearful, alarmed, and it was directed at him. Why was she still here and not escaping to the Falcon already? The tamped down panic began to creep up into his throat again, distracting him momentarily from the other warning of the Force: danger, imminent, deadly, warning him to -
Duck! -
His reflexes would have normally been sufficient, but the shock and the pain in his arm were too much for him to work around, and he was not fast enough. The danger came in the form of a blaster bolt, a red flash from a building away, a man taking careful aim from the rooftop, deadly precision.
Distantly, Luke knew Vader had felt it too, but his reaction was too slow to reach Luke, had he even wanted to react, which Luke almost doubted.
Luke had been halfway to taking another step backward when he instead lurched sideways to avoid the blaster bolt, aimed for his heart.
He ducked just as a flash of light and burning pain ripped through his left shoulder, dropping him to the ground. Again his vision whited, but he fought against the unconsciousness grasping at him, rolling over him. A face full of snow, the sense of Vader's rage, and suddenly the Sith lord's laser focus was no longer on Luke, but on the sniper, not immune from the dark lord's wrath even from the distance of the neighboring building.
Luke shut out the man's sudden, violent death, somehow rolled to his knees. He could not hear anything but the blood pounding in his ears, registered the crimson blood staining the pristinely white snow - so much blood - and he crawled, somehow pushed up on one knee without the aid of either arm, each beat of his heart sending agony pulsing through his body. Gray spots in his vision obscured the edge of the roof, but he knew it was there. The Force could bolster him, would keep him upright, slow his fall.
He could do this.
A second roar of outrage from Vader behind him as Luke pitched over the edge, black nothingness below, escaping his dear father at any cost.
Luke would never join him.
His last conscious thought was the realization that he hadn't slowed his fall as well as he had intended, as the ground rushed up at him with alarming speed.
Then the tremendous bang thundering in his ears as he hit the ground and the blackness took him.