Chapter Nine:
Darth Vader, Emperor of the galaxy, paced agitatedly before the enormous window in the throne room. Padmé, after having spent time with him attending to court matters, had retired for the evening.
But Vader couldn't settle. His thoughts were elsewhere, and his soul was troubled.
Luke was late in his return. His son should have been home already, and it wasn't like Luke at all to be late without any notice. And though the rational part of Vader knew it would be best to wait until morning to solidify Luke's absence, the Sith part of him knew something was wrong.
Yes, Luke questioned Vader as well as the man's morals and such, but when sent on a mission, Luke performed his task. And while Vader could count on that at least, his son's inability to adhere to Vader's Sith teachings and way of life continuously appeared to Vader as failure.
Luke was far too soft, to tender-hearted, and Vader feared this would be his son's undoing. And Vader had tried all he knew save to actually poison Luke with Sith-created hssiss poison.
Vader had hoped Luke's Dark Side conversion could be a natural one, but if it took poison to certify Luke's ascension to his Dark birthright, Vader wasn't above doing so. But first Luke would be punished for his failure.
If he had indeed failed. The Emperor couldn't jump to conclusions yet. He had to give Luke the benefit of the doubt this time...
... but if Luke had succeeded in his task, why the delay in coming home to report?
Vader clenched a fist and the thrones nearby began to rattle some in their fastenings. His anger roiled, and in a need to release his anger without damaging his wife's property— she loved her throne— he stalked from the throne room.
He took the swiftest route to his personal training room, where he initiated an intense workout, swiftly losing himself to the pseudo-battle against multiple droids.
00000
While his men scrambled to clean up the mess in the clearing and get their precious cargo into the safe house, Zolar knelt beside his best friend's remains. Rain had begun to fall, a light drizzle not uncommon for the jungle. Tiny rivulets fell from the man's tough hide to pool in the folds of Prand's unmoving skin.
Anger simmered unchecked in the pirate, and his three-fingered hand reached out at some point to close Prand's frozen-open eyelids. And as they shut, Zolar felt his breathing come to a passionate peak. Someone approached from behind to deliver a status report, but Zolar stood in a manner that caused the other to pause apprehensively.
"I want everything we can find on this... Force-user. Is he one of the Emperor's Inquisitors or something else?" Zolar turned, gesturing. "And I want his head on my desk. No, scratch that: I want him alive, because I would like to kill him myself for this." He considered. "But if that doesn't work, I will settle for his corpse."
His underling nodded. "Yes sir."
Zolar thinned his lips and gestured for some of his men to take Prand's body so they could give him a proper burial. Swiftly they obeyed while the first man gave his report at last.
"Sir, we lost all but two fighters, and there were six in the ground-based fight who died also." The pirate held out a datapad to Zolar. "On the bright side, the spice is all here and in good condition."
Zolar closed his eyes. "We lost a lot of good men today. They will be missed. Gather the men for a funeral, and then we will make preparations to bring Solo and his friends— mostly that kid— to justice. We will have our vengeance."
00000
Luke remained in the gun turret after their crazed jump to lightspeed, feeling his aching, bloodied body and leaning his head back against the seat's headrest. He hadn't wanted to kill Prand, but the Chagrian hadn't given him a choice. Luke had defended himself from a killing blow: that was all. He had tried to leave without killing, but casualties had still happened. At least this time he hadn't killed for Vader.
The view beyond the transparisteel before him calmed Luke's soul to a degree, and he daresay he felt most at home in a ship... among the stars.
It also allowed him to think unhindered.
Now his mind wandered back to something that had niggled his conscience for days now: whose voice had spoken to him that day of his mission? Who would have such... he didn't quite know the word to use, but power seemed accurate. But who could hold such sway over him as to convince Luke to disobey his father and risk everything for the unknown?
Luke didn't know, only that the voice had left him with such a longing and yet peace that he wished for more. But why?
He remained hidden in his perch for some time before the goings-on's of his new companions filtered up to him from below. Luke contemplated the pair a moment. Before the incident on Delrakkin, he'd been wondering at how the two had managed to make it this far.
The reports he'd been given to read hadn't painted the man and the Wookiee as much more than lucky vermin. Granted, that was probably a biased Imperial opinion... but still. Now Luke knew that Han and Chewbacca were more than they seemed at first glance.
Much like this ship, Luke mused with a wry twist to his lips.
He took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly before he finally moved to leave the turret, climbing slowly down the ladder and feeling his body protesting the battle even more now. But Luke pushed aside his discomfort and reached the deck.
It wasn't long before he found himself face-to-face with Han. "Listen, Kid, I let it slide during the fight, but don't you ever presume to fix my ship without my permission again, understand?"
Luke blinked, indignation surfacing. "What should I have done, let us die?"
Han placed his hands on his hips. "Chewie was on his way to fix the issue, Junior."
Luke's eyes flashed at the demeaning name. "You really should cut it out with calling me names like that."
Han's eyes narrowed. "Or what? You gonna take me out like Prand?"
Luke flinched, and Han softened some. "By the way, thanks for the save back there. We'd not have gotten off Delrakkin without you."
Luke frowned at the man, trying to puzzle him out. One minute he was angry that Luke had worked on the Falcon— and thus saving their lives— and the next he was thanking Luke for... saving their lives.
Finally, sensing the good intentions in the man and the truth in his words, Luke let out an exasperated chuckle. "You sure have a funny way of showing gratitude."
Han's lips twisted into a lopsided grin Luke knew fitted the man perfectly. "I told you the job wouldn't be nice to you; me either."
Luke just rolled his eyes. "Sorry for touching your ship. I will defer to your wisdom next time."
Han slapped Luke on the back. "There ya go, now you're getting it."
Luke shook his head and then Chewbacca popped his head out of the compartment and rumbled off a series of growls at Han. The man lifted a brow and turned to Luke.
"You must really know your ships. Chewie says that whatever you did will get us to Vestar without anymore major problems." Han eyed Luke. "You know, it's not easy to impress him."
Luke offered a cheeky grin. "About as easy as impressing you, right?"
Han snorted. "Don't get cocky, Kid. Didn't I tell you that you were good in a fight? You came in real handy."
[You didn't put it in exactly those words, Han,] Chewie retorted, amused.
"Yes I did," Han argued while pointing a finger in the Wookiee's face. "Just get an inventory of repairs and parts needed, will ya?"
Chewbacca waved a furred hand and disappeared again.
Han steered Luke to the medical station and had him sit on the edge of the makeshift bunk. Luke did so with a sigh, watching as Han retrieved some medical supplies. Then the man began to tend to Luke's injuries and the younger man held still.
After a few moments, Luke spoke softly. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Han glanced briefly to Luke's face and spoke further as he returned to work. "You know, you're going to be on Zolar's most-wanted list now. Prand and he were best friends."
Luke sighed deeply. "I was only defending myself. The man attacked, and I reacted."
Han nodded. "Yes, but Zolar will only care about revenge. And he won't stop until he sees it through."
Luke closed his eyes. "I'll manage. It's not like I have a choice now."
Han knew the kid was right. Changing topics somewhat, Han touched on something he'd put off as of yet. "By the way, you kind of went into general-mode or something back there."
Luke's eyes opened, and something unreadable flashed through the kid's gaze. "I did?"
Han nodded, eyebrow lifted just-so. "Yeah. It seemed you went from a soldier to an officer in a heartbeat. Almost like you were used to giving orders and expecting them to be followed..."
Luke fought down a wave of panic. Had he really given himself away like that? What would Han do if he discovered Luke's true identity? But if Han had known the truth, the man wouldn't be so non-chalant... would he?
Deciding to play on his hunch, Luke cleared his throat. "I was training to become an officer among the other... Inquisitors. Our training covered many things."
Han studied Luke openly for a time, in which the younger of the two forced himself to remain calm. "I'll bet." Han finally allowed, returning to his doctoring.
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Leia sat upon her bed, unable to sleep. Her body was weary, but her mind was alight with concern.
Where was Luke?
Had something happened to him after all?
Had he finally snapped and defected?
Leia wouldn't blame him if that were the case, but she did envy him... until their father caught up with him. Leia knew it would only be a matter of time before that happened. Vader was nothing if not thorough, and when he wanted something, he got it.
She sighed heavily, knowing there was little point in stressing over something she couldn't control. But she couldn't help it.
Fed up with her inability to rest, Leia decided to pass the time productively and so she went to her office and pulled out one of the many reports she still had to read through. Partway through the document, the mention of supplies and ships reminded her of the Rebellion.
Something twinged inside Leia, a wish to do something actually worthwhile for the galaxy. She wanted to know what it was like to be part of an actual family unit... well, at least one that was created by those who fought together in battle.
But unless something happened, Leia didn't foresee that ever occurring. But... maybe she could just look at something the Alliance could get for themselves? It wouldn't hurt, would it?
Biting her lip, Leia glanced toward her door as if she expected it to burst open at the very thought.
Finally her deeply buried rebellious streak won out and she turned to her computer to look through files the Imperials had collected. Droid parts on Malastare... food from Tanaab— that would always be welcome— medical supplies from Thyferra. Leia snorted. Unless there was a shipment the Rebellion could intercept, that would never work. Thyferra was guarded closely since it was the site of the galaxy's bacta production.
Something her parents' government horded jealously.
Leia noted anything that might be of use and saved it in a file named an inane topic to ward off suspicion or set off red flags.
Then her gaze happened upon something interesting: there was a junkyard on Tatooine that might have parts the Alliance could salvage. Her father hated Tatooine more than any other planet, and Leia was certain that the man purposely avoided the dust ball at all costs.
Leia added the information to her file and moved on, working well into the night. She never noticed when she fell asleep at the terminal.
00000
Han and Chewie stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the hatchway, going through the parts they had and trying to figure out what they would need to buy in town and what they could do without.
"We don't have enough type-two wiring," Han decided. "And it looks like the housing for the cooling unit on the port-side engine cracked. We will have to replace that."
[We need coolant too, Han,] Chewbacca pointed out. [And we should probably stock up on food while we're here.]
Han sighed. "Yeah, who knows when we'll run aground on a neutral planet again?"
[And what of the Cub?]
Han glanced at the Wookiee. "What about him?"
[Do we bring him along or leave him with the Falcon?] Chewie asked.
"Ah," Han murmured, considering. "We don't need all three of us going out. And the trek to town and back will take all day."
Chewie turned a dubious stare on his friend. [You trust the Cub enough already with your ship?]
Han gave the Wookiee a sour look. "Where is he going to go? The ship won't go far even if he gets it off the ground."
Chewbacca huffed softly, but conceded the point. The pair spent another minute verifying inventory and then walked out to find Velius sitting silently in the lobby. His eyes were closed but Han didn't think he was sleeping with the straight-backed pose he maintained.
"Hey Kid." Han called.
"Yes?" Velius asked calmly while maintaining his pose.
"Chewie and Me are going into town, but we need you to stay behind." Han ordered. "Can you handle that?"
The young man's eyes fluttered open at that, and he gave Han a small smile. "I think I can. How long will you be gone?"
"If all goes well, twenty four standard hours," Han replied. "Maybe two days if things get iffy."
The other nodded. "Alright. Am I allowed to work on anything while you're gone?"
"Yeah, try relaxing." Han turned toward the ramp, slinging a backpack onto his shoulders as he did so. "It'll be good for ya."
He didn't catch the surprised look on the other's face, but he did hear a shuffle of seat-cushions as Velius shifted. "Okay then. Be careful."
Han grinned lopsidedly over his shoulder. "Hey... it's me!"
