Leia wasn't thinking as she covered deck after deck. She refused to think because she knew that if she did, she wouldn't do it. She couldn't defend her position and she couldn't justify the actions she was about to take. She only knew that it made sense... to her.
At long last, she arrived at the communications centre of the medical frigate. She burst in like a whirlwind.
The two officers sitting at their posts turned in their seats and on recognizing her, they sat up straighter.
"Your highness, is there anything we can do for you?" the older one asked.
Thinking fast, Leia decided to rely on her authority. She was about to commit an act of treason; the least she could do was pull rank and thus relieve these men from responsibility.
"Yes," she nodded gravely, taking a deep breath. There would be no going back after this.
She didn't hesitate.
"Leave the room. I must send a transmission."
The two officers obeyed at once. They took off their listening devices, put them on their consoles and stood up.
Leia moved aside and nodded back at them when they saluted her on their way out.
Once alone, she quickly sat at one of the consoles and put on one of the devices.
How was she going to do it?
The first thing was to make sure that the transmission never existed. That one was easy. As one of the top leaders of the Alliance, she only had to introduce a particular code before and after sending the message, and all traces of it would disappear from the ship's computer banks.
Also, she had to transmit in a frequency the Empire could intercept. If it failed, her act of treason would be useless. Then, she had to make certain that the message reached its intended recipient. It had to be a short message that only one person could understand.
The frequency was actually easy to pick. She thanked her father wordlessly for his history lessons in all fields.
The message itself took longer to write – it hurt to speak about someone so loved in such impersonal, cold terms.
Her finger lingered for a moment on the send button. She closed her eyes, mouthed a soundless 'please' and pressed the key.
It was done now. She couldn't change it back. But before she started thinking again, there was something else she had to do: to mitigate the consequences of her actions as much as she could. And that meant getting out of here as fast as possible... alone.
She pressed another button.
"Commander Quincy here," a strong male voice answered her call.
"Commander, this is Leia Organa," Leia marvelled at her firm tone of voice.
"Yes, your highness," the man acknowledged assertively.
"I want you to change course immediately. I am relaying the new coordinates to your console as we speak," she quickly pressed some keys and readied herself for the baffled reply.
"But your highness," the commander's voice conveyed utter incredulity as he undoubtedly tried to make sense of his new orders. "These coordinates would practically take us out of the galaxy."
"I'm aware of that, Commander," Leia stated the obvious. "Also, you will tell our escorts to stay with the rest of the Fleet. We'll be on our own from now on."
"Your highness..."
"It's an order, Commander. Please, proceed." Feeling strangely detached, Leia wondered at the absurdity of putting the words "order" and "please" in two consecutive sentences. It said it all about her current frame of mind.
"Yes, your highness," the pilot acquiesced without any further questions.
Shutting off the communication, Leia remained still, staring straight ahead, unmoving.
She had done it. She had successfully carried out an act of treason. In the name of love.
A slight tremor passed through her and seconds later, she was shivering uncontrollably.
"What have I done? What have I done?" she cried, covering her face with her hands.
The two communications officers waited patiently by the door, sharing ocassional curious glances, wondering what all the secrecy was about.
Finally, the door opened, and a perfectly composed Princess came out.
"I will be back in about four hours to get the reply message," she told them.
"Yes, your highness," they responded in unison.
Leia's long, confident strides slowed down to shorter, heavy ones the moment she disappeared from sight.
Auren rose to her feet when Leia walked in.
"Nothing's changed," she reported. "He muttered some unintelligible words a few minutes ago, but he's out again... Are you all right?" she asked, noticing the younger woman's alarming paleness.
"Yes," Leia nodded, walking straight to Luke's bedside. "I-I'd like some time alone with him, if you don't mind," she requested softly, not taking her eyes off him.
"Of course not," Auren took her hand and squeezed it on her way out.
Leia sank into the chair by Luke's bed. Shaking from head to toe, she reached out and stroked the emaciated visage with cold fingers.
"Oh, Luke! What have I done?" she lamented. "There is no reason for... him to..." she looked up and let out a weary sigh. "And yet, something... Somewhere deep within... I feel... I know..." She lowered her eyes to the dying soul that meant more to her than her own life. "Please, tell me I did the right thing! Tell me I didn't just ensure the destruction of the Alliance pursuing a foolish quest!"
She jumped in her chair when one, two, and then three alarms went off almost simultaneously. And right then, right before her horrified eyes, Luke started to convulse once more.
She was on her feet trying to restrain him when Dr. Vilk and the nurses entered the room.
The ravaged, broken body went suddenly limp.
Vilk took a quick look at the monitors.
"His heart stopped! Begin resuscitation at once!" he shouted.
Leia drew back and watched the scene as if it wasn't really happening. Everything seemed unreal, like watching a holomovie. She felt disconnected from the madness around her, the loud voices, the frantic commotion surrounding her.
Until, in a rush, she was back inside herself, seeing the dearest thing to her heart exhale his last breath.
"LUKE!" she cried out, feeling as if her own heart had stopped beating along with his. "LUKE, DON'T GO! DON'T GO, PLEASE! PLEASE, DON'T!"
The Dark Lord of the Sith walked up the Executor's bridge with long, ominous strides, straight for a colourless Admiral Piett, who watched in abject horror how his destiny was coming to meet him. Just before Vader reached him though, something appeared to slam into him. He stopped dead in his tracks and doubled over, his cape closing in around him almost protectively, hiding him from the stumped eyes of his subordinates. A mechanical groan, heartrendingly human at its core, escaped his throat.
Mystified, Piett looked around, as though to verify from the other officers on the bridge that he wasn't hallucinating.
He wasn't.
"L-Lord Vader?" he asked tentatively, taking a little step forward.
An eternity seemed to pass before the big form unfolded itself and gradually rose up, fists tightly clenched at his sides.
"No. No. Nonononononono..." an inaudible litany escaped Vader's lips, a violent denial of the truth he could feel in his blood.
The moment stretched out for what felt like forever. Vader made a herculean effort to not collapse as his eyesight faded in and out and his heart hammered against his ribs, crying out its terror and helplessness.
An excited bustle coming from below floor level had Piett looking down at one of the communications officers sitting at his post. He was making gestures at his nearby companions, asking them to verify something, and nodding enthusiastically.
"What is it, officer?" he asked.
"I've got something, sir!" the chubby, middle-aged man pointed at his console with his index finger.
Both Vader and Piett hurried to the very edge of the pit.
"What have you got?" Piett seemed to realize that the Dark Lord was in no condition to take over yet.
"A short message, Admiral," the officer smiled slyly. "In a frequency that hasn't been used in decades. Since the days of the Old Republic at least," there was a fleeting look of confusion in his eyes. "But the strangest thing is that the message is only partially coded."
"What do you mean?" Piett asked, arching his eyebrows.
"The body of the message is coded, but not the recipient. It makes no sense," he scratched his head, perplexed. "It's almost as if it was meant to be intercepted."
"It could be a decoy," Piett suggested, clearly suspicious.
"To whom is it addressed?" Vader's voice sounded strained but firm. Inside, he was experiencing an overpowering feeling of foreboding.
"To an Anakin Skywalker, milord," was the mind-blowing answer.
"Anakin Skywalker?!" Piett exclaimed in disbelief.
"Give me that message!" Vader ordered, reaching out his arm.
"But milord, I haven't decoded it yet..." the officer began.
"I SAID GIVE IT TO ME!" the superhuman roar promised to crush every living being in the ship.
The officer sprang to his feet, disc in hand. Piett bent down to retrieve it and handed it to Vader, who snatched it and disappeared from the bridge like a haunted black spirit devoured by his obsession.
Leia paced back and forth faster and faster. She was not afraid, she was enraged. Luke couldn't die. Couldn't die! Not now, when they were so close to...
It had to mean something. This senseless ordeal, this nightmare they were all going through... there HAD to be a purpose to it!
Auren followed the Princess' frenetic pacing, fearing what would happen when Dr. Vilk emerged from the adjoining room and told them... for she harboured no doubts about the inevitable outcome. She closed her stinging eyes.
"Leia..." she began in a shaky voice.
Leia whipped around and faced the older woman with bloodshot eyes.
"He's NOT dead, Auren. YOU HEAR ME?! HE'S *NOT* DEAD!"
Auren stood and approached the distressed Princess, who couldn't stop wringing her hands.
The door opened and before Vilk was even out of the room, Leia was already in his face.
"He's alive, isn't he? Isn't he?" her tone left no room for disagreement.
Vilk nodded tiredly, and both women realized he almost regretted that fact.
"More organs are failing him now," he shook his head dejectedly. "He won't survive the next 24 hours, your highness. Keeping him alive in this state borders on therapeutic cruelty," he tried to reason with the unyielding Princess.
"I have my motives," Leia replied unbendingly. "Whatever happens, you *must* keep him alive for 12 hours," her eyes turned to the white-haired man's in supplication. "12 hours, doctor! That's all I ask!"
"I'm afraid it's not in my hands anymore," Vilk reminded her of the irrevocability of the situation with a despondent shrug.
Away from prying stares, Darth Vader sat still at his console. The sound of his respirator pumping oxygen into his lungs was the only sign of life in his otherwise silent chambers.
His eyes wouldn't look away from the words he'd decoded a few minutes ago. The words that announced the end of his world and his only hope.
To Anakin Skywalker:
The Light is dying. If you want to say goodbye before it's all over, you must come alone. You have 24 hours. Meet at the following coordinates.
He didn't need to look at the coordinates again. The numbers had etched themselves into his brain the instant he'd read them. But the words... THE words...
The Light is dying.
Dying.
He didn't have to be told. He knew. He had been feeling it for days. He could feel his child's lifeforce slipping away with every passing second.
But having it confirmed... Reading it in such a thoughtless manner... it felt shocking and offensive; as if the boy's existence was irrelevant. As if Luke Skywalker's life had never meant anything. As if no one cared whether he lived or died.
'Ani, I'm pregnant.'
'That's wonderful!'
'Daddy, where are you? I need you. I need you so much!'
'Our baby is a blessing.'
'Father!'
'Son, come with me.'
'I want to die!'
"Your existence means everything."
His own voice snapped him out of his spell. Pulling himself together with a deep intake of breath, he turned around and activated the screen, revealing Piett's back.
"Admiral Piett," he called hoarsely.
Piett quickly turned, hands behind his back.
"Yes, Lord Vader?"
"Prepare my shuttle at once and meet me in the hangar deck."
A look of surprise crossed Piett's face.
"Acknowledged, milord," he nodded. The screen went blank.
Vader turned back to the console and looked at it without seeing it.
'He will join us in the Dark Side, or die.'
'Father.'
'You killed him!'
'Daddy!'
A startingly shaking hand appeared before him and typed a brief reply. On autopilot, he entered the appointed frequency and sent the message.
It was done. In a few hours, he would be gazing upon the beautiful, tormented face he had dreamed about for weeks; the visage that had plagued his nightmares and his waking hours, whispering impossible promises, tempting him with feelings he had cursed and despised for as long as the child had been alive.
One thing he was certain of, though. If he was going, he had to go as a father, not a Sith. The message had been addressed to Anakin Skywalker, and even if that person had ceased to exist decades ago, he knew he wouldn't be allowed near his son any other way.
Rising in all his imposing form, he abandoned his quarters, wondering passingly where he would be when it all ended.
Leia hadn't moved from Luke's side for the last two hours. She sat at his side, holding his hand in an unbreakable grip, willing him to stay in the world of living with every ounce of passion she possessed.
Not one word had been said. A tense silence permeated the air. The machines keeping the young man alive made the only audible sounds in the room, and at this point, Auren was grateful for them. The cadence of those sounds was soothing, and as long as nothing disturbed that cadence, everything would be all right.
A soft alarm went off, shattering the silence, and almost giving the poor woman a heart attack.
Unfazed, Leia moved her left arm and checked the time. Nodding to herself, she released the unresponsive hand with the utmost care and stopped the alarm on her wrist. She stood up, all determination and resolve, and bent down to the dying man's ear.
"I'm leaving for a while," she whispered to him, her voice shaking with trepidation and anger. "You'd better still be here when I return, or I will never forgive you, do you hear me? I'll NEVER forgive you!" she threatened, straightening up with all the dignity she could muster and exiting the room.
Vader entered the hangar deck and walked up to his shuttle. Admiral Piett and two pilots awaited him by the deployed ramp.
"Your ship is ready, milord," Piett informed the Dark Lord with a nod.
"Good," Vader approved, turning his eyes to the pilots. "Your services are not required. I will pilot the shuttle myself."
Astoundment showed in the two pilots' faces, but they complied with Vader's orders and walked away.
"Anything else, milord?" Piett asked his superior officer once they were alone.
"Yes," Vader produced a disc that Piett took from his hand. "I am leaving here precise instructions for you to follow, including a special coded frequency I will use to communicate with you and only with you if it were necessary. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, Lord Vader," Piett felt oddly honoured by the privilege the Dark Lord had bestowed on him. "Have a safe flight," he flinched inside, wondering what in blazes had made him say that. With Vader's mercurial temper, who knew what his reaction would be towards a comment that could be easily miscontrued as flippant?
"You are welcome, Admiral," Vader's retreating voice spoke while its owner began to ascend the ramp.
With his jaw almost hitting the floor, Piett watched the massive form disappear inside the shuttle.
Unbeknownst to Piett, a crooked half smile appeared on the pale lips behind the mask. Little did the Admiral know that the disc he had given him was the same disc where the communications officer had recorded the Alliance's transmission. All traces that the message had ever existed, would disappear the moment Piett played his instructions.
Indeed, irony was one of the most exquisite pleasures in life.
Leia entered the communications centre of the medical frigate for the second time that day. The two officers turned their heads and on seeing her, they rose to their feet and exited the room with a polite nod to her.
"Thank you," she told them before the door closed.
She sat at one of the consoles and tuned in to the right frequency. The answering message shouldn't take long now.
She waited for the longest eight minutes of her life. Every moment apart from Luke was agony, and the uncertainty of not knowing how he was, unbearable.
At last, a short beep announced that a message had been received. Cold sweat broke out over her entire body. Shivering, she opened it and decoded it.
I am coming. Alone. Meet at the appointed coordinates.
A dry snort escaped her, releasing some of the tension around her throat.
Curt and to the point. That was Darth Vader.
It suddenly dawned on her that in about five hours she would face her nemesis, the one and only being she hated with all her soul, responsible for causing more damage to herself and all those she cared about than anyone else in the Empire.
Would she be able to handle it? What had possessed her in the first place to...?
'Calm down. Calm down!' she told herself, willing her uncontrolled rage to subside. 'You know why you are doing it. Because despite everything, something keeps telling you that he's the key to this. The decent, upright man Auren's story portrayed, the loving father holding his child in your dream... One way or another, this conflict will come to an end.'
Dragging her arm across the console, she deleted the message. Once she'd taken care of that, she crossed her arms and lowered her head with a sigh.
'Oh, Han!' she allowed herself to think of her beloved. 'I wish you were here! I wish you could help me to make peace with what I'm doing. You could always navigate through the grey areas of life better than I. I wish...' feeling that her eyes were beginning to tear up, she sobered swiftly. She'd learned to keep a tight rein on her emotions eons ago. Only a very selected few were permitted to see beneath the façade, and none of them was with her now.
Biting her lower lip, she took a deep breath and stood. Squaring her shoulders, she left the room with a quiet 'thank you' to the two men waiting outside.
Auren stood from Leia's chair when the Princess entered. She had been holding Luke's hand, trying to keep a lifeline between the young man and the people who loved him.
"He's still with us," she smiled bashfully.
Leia returned the poignant smile and relieved her, taking hold of the bony hand between her own and sitting down.
"You should eat," Auren reminded her some time later. "I heated the soup again," she nodded in the direction of the tray on the small table.
"Not now," Leia shook her head.
"Are you sure of what you're doing?" Auren dared to ask after a few seconds of comfortable silence.
"By keeping him alive?" Leia met her friend's eyes wistfully.
Auren nodded.
Leia looked away.
"I know what I'm hoping for," she said at last. "In any case, we'll know before the day is over."
"Do you trust your dreams that much?"
Auren's inability to understand resonated profoundly with Leia. If she wasn't the one having those dreams, she would be exactly in her position.
"I trust Luke and..." she bit her tongue. "I trust his heart. I know why he wants to die, and I don't intend to let him go before I've done everything in my power to prevent it. If there's any chance, any chance at all, to save his life and maybe solve this, then I'm bound to do it; as his friend, as the only family he has."
The mention of the word 'family' brought back the memory of their earlier conversation.
"Tell me about Anakin Skywalker," she requested all of a sudden, stroking the back of the limp hand absent-mindedly. "How was he, physically? His voice, his mannerisms..."
"Oh," surprised by the non sequitur, Auren retreated back into her memories of her adolescent crush with a faraway smile. "He was very young; no more than 20 years old. Tall, blond, blue-eyed... and very handsome. Straight nose, full lips, and the most penetrating gaze. But..." she made an effort to remember her thoughts at the time, so many years ago, "...there was something behind his eyes... Something that spoke of... of a soul in pain. He was deeply scarred inside."
Leia swallowed hard. Definitely, it was the same man she'd seen in her dream – as if there were any doubts left – but the personality Auren described couldn't be more different. The young man in her dream glowed with love for his son. He looked at Luke as if he was the only light in his universe, his very reason to live.
"And yet..."
Auren's enraptured voice brought her back to the present.
"...The way he stood up for the child who was being insulted by his peers... The way he taught his bullies a lesson..." she nodded in understanding. "Only now I see what he did. He was able to turn an ugly situation into something positive," she made a bitter grimace. "He was wise beyond his years but he'd paid a price for that wisdom." A short silence followed. Then she smiled, remembering her youthful naiveté. "At the time I just thought he'd make an incredible father. Even if Jedi weren't allowed to marry."
Leia's ears pricked swiftly.
"They weren't?"
Auren shook her head.
"They lived a life of seclusion and retirement. There was an aura of mystery around them that was very exciting for the public. You'd be surprised at the rumours that circulated around the galaxy."
"What rumours?" Leia asked.
"Really outrageous ones," Auren smiled in amusement. "Like they were born in pods... That they had the power of invisibility..." she chuckled.
But Leia's mind was going in another direction. If Jedi weren't allowed to marry and Anakin Skywalker had engendered a son, that meant he'd gone against the rules. It meant he'd loved fiercely enough to risk everything he believed in and sworn to uphold to embrace a human passion.
For the first time, Leia wondered what had happened; what had turned Anakin Skywalker into the implacable enforcer of a regime based on the complete suppression of individual freedom, and the merciless annihilation of all dissension she'd known all her life.
What had gone wrong in his soul to the point of brutalizing and mutilating his own child, who had done nothing but love him since the day he was born?
The answer to that question was likely to remain a mystery. What she did know, was that she had to be prepared to face that creature of evil in a few hours.
"I think I'll have that soup now," she blurted out. She hadn't expected to say that, but she was glad she did when Auren's face lit up with joy. "Want to take over now?" she stood and offered Luke's hand to her.
"It'll be an honour," Auren walked over to Leia, took the warm hand in hers and sat down on the chair she vacated. Unconsciously, she began to caress it.
'You're much too loved to give up now, young man,' she mused. 'Give yourself a chance at life.'
TO BE CONTINUED...
