Chapter Thirty-Three:
Leia hadn't seen this much of a crowd since her parents had announced the twins' official place in the line for succession. The fact that almost everyone was dressed in black did nothing to alleviate the Princess' sorrow.
She wished the reason for gathering had been a happier one, but alas, the entire galaxy stood still for a few hours as they mourned the loss of their prince.
Leia sat beside her mother and father as an officiator gave an opening speech, though in truth she drowned out most of what he was saying, sensing he didn't really mean most of the endearing remarks. She knew they had been pre-planned to gain sympathy from the citizens of the Empire and more.
When the man finally sat down, there was a scattering of soft applause and then Padmé took the podium. In the true fashion of the politician the woman was, Padmé adopted her most mournful expression.
"Today is truly a dark day for the Empire. For the galaxy. We have lost one of our sweetest citizens. My dear Luke was a kind-hearted young man who loved the people. He always wanted to do the right thing, and he hated when others were treated unfairly. He was truly a gem among stones."
Padmé dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, and Leia had to suppress an eye-roll. She was probably one of the only ones who noted that Padmé's tears were feigned.
"But we will remember Luke by continuing to live our lives and fight for the freedom of all Imperial citizens." Padmé threw her gaze out about the crowd, and to the cameras. "He has not died in vain. Luke, we loved you." Padmé looked down. "May you rest in peace, my son."
She sat down and Leia gritted her teeth, but said nothing, even when her father rose to take the stand, his stance making it clear he meant business.
"My fellow Imperials. Thank you for coming to this memorial service for our son, your Prince and once-future Emperor." Vader paused, and then stared straight into the nearest camera. "However, I can assure you that Prince Luke's death was no accident."
Murmurs shuffled the crowd, and Leia frowned slightly, wondering what her father was up to now.
"Indeed. Evidence has come to light that the Prince was assassinated by the Rebel Alliance! They coordinated a second kidnapping and managed to sneak into the Palace. It was not very widely known before this that Prince Luke had been severely injured upon his return home after his original kidnapping. It now appears that whoever let him go sent with him a means of getting him back... and they also orchestrated his demise."
The noise level of the crowd rose in indignation at this, and Leia couldn't believe that Vader was using Luke's funeral to paint the Rebellion like this. She could just imagine all the indignant shouts and cat-calls happening in many an Alliance gathering places, where they too were no doubt viewing the proceedings.
"The Alliance killed our Prince!" Vader thundered, pounding a fist onto the podium. "And they will be brought to justice! They will not get away with this treachery! It is one thing to target the military, especially in war, but to target innocents who aren't involved actively with the fighting is wrong on any front!"
The crowd began to voice its agreement, with many men shouting their own curses upon the Alliance. Vader's sense grew triumphant, and Leia swallowed.
"The Empire will not rest until the Alliance had been brought to justice for their crimes! Not just against my family, but against the citizens of our Empire! We will have peace! No longer will my people live in fear of those who terrorize our borders and steal our supplies to feed their violence! Long live the Empire!"
The people below roared their own 'Long live the Empire!' and cheering went up as Vader lifted his lightsaber and ignited it.
He stood for several seconds and then deactivated the blade, nodding his head and gesturing for the pyre that had been set up with Luke's image on it. A man in uniform bowed and lifted the torch, setting it to the small pyre and the crowd fell into solemn silence once more as the image was swallowed up and reduced to ashes along with the wood.
Leia didn't bother hiding her tears, and she was surprised when out of nowhere a silent, but gentle hand rested on her shoulder in support. She glanced behind her to see Quane giving her an honestly sorrowful gaze.
She managed a small smile for him, grateful for the gesture before he dropped his limb. Leia allowed her gaze to rest on what had once been an image of Luke, regretting that there hadn't even been a body to burn.
Leia felt a nudge to her elbow when the ashes began to flutter in the breeze, and she took note of Padmé and Vader rising to leave. Hesitant, Leia looked to Quane, then rose and whispered something to him.
He nodded. "I'll take care of it, Princess."
Satisfied that she could trust the man, Leia left with her parents.
Hours later, when the after-funeral 'festivities' had concluded, Leia sank wearily onto her couch, and was about to lie down when Quane announced his arrival and entered.
Leia perked up when he handed her a vial, and she accepted the ashes of her brother's pyre tenderly. "Thank you, Sergeant."
Quane dipped his head. "Of course. Luke... was a good young man. I will miss him."
Leia nodded, sensing his sincerity. "I will too."
She began to break down then, and without waiting permission, Quane sat beside her and pulled her to his chest to offer himself as comfort.
00000
Three sets of eyes stared at the holovid as it played the funeral proceedings, and they were hardly surprised by the mixed reactions of the patrons around them. A rounded orange head shook with a deep sigh, and goggled eyes turned to her two companions.
"This will complicate things," Maz muttered.
Nella turned her photoreceptors onto the small woman and tilted her cranium. "How so?"
Maz glanced at the screen once more and then back to the droid. "Because, now the entire galaxy believes their prince is deceased."
"But is this not a good thing?" Nella asked, somewhat confused.
The woman shrugged. "That remains to be seen."
Their third party member finally shifted, coming out of her thoughts. She looked troubled, and in fact, she hadn't said much at all in her time there with Maz and Nella. With the exception of one explanation.
Mara thinned her lips and stood without a word, retreating to the steps that led down into the basement levels of Maz's castle cantina. She felt the attention of Maz and Nella, but ignored them both as she descended as far down as she could. When she reached the apparent end of the corridors, Mara paused, having to go through a hidden doorway in order to continue on to the secret chambers beyond.
She entered a well-lit corridor that was blocked from view by several dark hanging curtains meant to avoid giving the corridor away with the lighting in an otherwise darkened hall before. Mara traversed the walkway, passing an operating room and then coming to the three patient recovery rooms beyond.
In the furthest room, lying prone in the bed was a blond young man on the cusp of adulthood. Mara entered his room and paused, uncertain.
She moved closer and stared at his still face, noting the scars and blemishes that now covered it, even after Maz's droids had finished surgery. The patient had just come out of the bacta tank, and was now in full-out recovery mode.
No one knew for certain when the young man would awaken, but Mara wondered what Prince Luke would do when he realized what he was now: dead to the galaxy.
Mara's gaze took on a faraway look, and memories resurfaced.
"Come on! Come one!" Mara growled at her ship even as the Force was screaming at Mara that she needed to be there right now. She was seconds from the reversion point, and Mara had never been so on edge.
She saw the counter hit zero and instantly drew her ship from hyperspace... and promptly swore in three different languages when an explosion buffeted her ship.
Mara was about to turn around when two silhouettes, backlit against the brilliance, caught Mara's attention.
With urgency surging through her veins, Mara never stopped to question where the skill came from: she merely feathered her repulsors, swiveled her ship and sucked the pair of beings into her hold.
Not waiting for the green light, Mara punched the hyperdrive again and leapt blindly in a daring maneuver. She dropped from hyperspace seconds later, calculated the next fastest jump she could manage and leapt again...
Mara shook her head to clear it, the hours after her rescue a blur of medical equipment, secret passages and tense waiting for a diagnosis.
And all the while, Mara had remained on edge.
She sensed the being coming into the room before she heard the soft footfalls behind her, and Mara spoke without turning. "He won't ever be able to show his face in public again. He will be confined to the shadows."
Maz eyed the red head from behind. "Indeed."
Mara still did not turn. "I don't know what he hoped to gain from this stunt, but his moves are seriously hampered now."
"Are they really?" Maz countered.
Mara nodded once. "Yes. Everyone thinks he's dead, so if he suddenly appears somewhere things aren't going to end well for him."
"True, but at the same time, his supposed demise will allow him to train in secret, without the constant need to look over his shoulder for his enemy."
Mara thought about how sad it was that the prince had been running from his family the entire time he'd been away from Coruscant. She didn't have any family left so Mara truly felt for the other teen for that. He shouldn't have had to be afraid of his parents.
Dropping her arms from their folded position she hadn't realized they'd adopted, Mara sighed. "You have a good point. But I still don't see why he is so important."
"Maybe the better question is why would you drop everything to help a stranger?" Maz asked knowingly, seeing through Mara's shields with a well-practiced eye.
Mara tensed, and Maz knew she'd hit a nerve. "I don't like what you're insinuating."
"The truth." Maz returned simply.
"And that would be?" Mara's voice was cold as ice.
Maz was unperturbed. "You tell me. What does a young woman such as yourself find in a total stranger that makes her drop her life to save him from the impossible?"
Needing to vent to someone, Mara had tentatively opened up to Maz about the experience with Luke while he'd been in surgery, and how odd it had all been. Also how Mara's feelings about the prince had been... conflicted.
Mara didn't know what to feel. She had spent most of her life surviving, not giving in to her desire for an emotional attachment. Karrde was as close as she came to such a thing, and he was more of a father-figure to her, and she knew it would never develop into a romance.
"I don't know!" Mara snapped, spinning around when Maz's gaze continued to burn her. "I don't know why I did it, only that I couldn't bear not to! I tried to deny it, believe me." Mara shifted uncomfortably, her voice dropping uneasily. "But I couldn't."
Maz stepped forward, and Mara eyed her warily. "You feel a connection to him."
Mara's mouth turned downward. "No."
Maz's eyebrows lifted knowingly. "Really?"
Mara glared. "What do you want from me Maz?"
"Only for you to accept what is right before you," Maz said gently.
Mara's glare intensified. "Let's get something straight. No one and nothing decides my future for me! Only me. I may feel a connection, yes, I will admit that. But what that means is something I will decide for myself."
Maz actually smiled. "I admire your spirit, Child."
Mara rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah. I'm going up for some air."
And with that she brushed past the woman and disappeared into the hall. She paid no heed to Nella coming the opposite way, only sitting in a corner booth and ordering a drink.
Mara thought of Karrde, and how worried he had to be over her. She hadn't contacted him since the night she'd arrived on Takodana, and Mara hadn't been very informative then either. She'd only said she wouldn't be back for a while and not to worry.
She'd then gone on to cut the line before Karrde could counter and spent several subsequent hours feeling guilty, but it had been out of fear for giving herself away.
Now she could only imagine how she'd return to Karrde and explain herself. The notion wasn't one she wanted to dwell on for long.
00000
Two days had passed since the funeral, and Padmé stood before the one-way window of Vader's and hers private chambers. She had been lost to her thoughts for hours now, and Vader had been silent but respectful of her need for space.
But now, after forty-eight hours and a determination to correct wherever they went wrong, Padmé turned to her husband, who was lounging on their bed in nothing but a pair of sleep pants.
Padmé herself wore a revealing nightgown she knew he loved on her, and she drew near to him.
Vader looked up at her approach and set his datapad aside. "What is it Angel?"
Padmé sat at his side, angling her body so she could see him clearly. "Ani... give me another son."
Vader's eyes widened a little, surprised. "What?"
Padmé didn't back down, taking his hand. "We will not leave this galaxy without an heir... a proper heir. One we have groomed from the start. We went wrong with Luke, obviously, so let's start fresh."
She could see the cogs turning in Vader's mind, and Padmé continued her pleas. "Give me a son; give us an heir we can be proud of. Ensure our families' survival after we are gone."
Vader eyed her, and Padmé could see she was winning him over. Pouring on the charm, Padmé shifted to stand on all fours over him, her nightgown purposely revealing more cleavage.
"Make love to me..." Padmé began to tease his naked chest with seductive kisses. "Let's start anew..." He was trembling under her ministrations, and Padmé moved to whisper in his ear, her voice husky. "I want you."
And with that he snatched her up and pulled her close, crushing his lips to hers. Padmé smiled against his mouth and melted into his fevered embrace.
