Hello all...a short (I know!) chapter here...just trying to get all the characters closer to the end point. I'm going into my super-long work week, so I won't be able to update for at least a week...so I tried to get this out to you, at least! I hope I get to hear from you...let me know what you think so far!
Emerson
Part XXVII
Moving quietly down the corridor, Han wondered off-hand exactly why they were attempting to be so stealthy. If the Emperor was so powerful in the Force, if he could sense where they were...what was the need for all the sneaking around? Surely the old man knew they were on the way...sensed somehow the deceit. Still, he admired the Admiral and needed to be active in doing something, so this was better than simple waiting. Especially where Leia was concerned.
Ahead of him, Piett had slowed down even more, waving a hand at him to reduce his speed. Blaster drawn, Han complied. "General, this may be an opportune time for you to call in your Rebel friends...can you contact the Alliance Fleet from here?" Piett paused, disappointment passing over his features. "I did not think of it on the bridge, Solo. The message from Vader, I confess, had my complete attention."
Han responded, voice low, "I've already done that, Admiral. I wasn't gonna wait for your OK on that, no offense. When I saw Palpatine's ships arrive, I didn't want to waste any time. They're on their way now."
Piett gave an amused huff. "Still adverse to authority, General?"
Han shrugged easily and gave his trademark lopsided smile. "Depends on the situation, Admiral. Right now, I'd say we were both telling "authority" exactly where to stick it. But that's beside the point. How close are we?"
Piett motioned down the corridor. "Not far now. There's a private entrance to the throne room from Lord Vader's quarters...we'll have to go in through there. It will place us behind the dais...if we're in luck, the Emperor will be facing away from us. That will be our only advantage."
A grimace from Han. "Well, let's not forget Luke's in there, and Vader too. Perhaps they'll be able to take him."
"If...if they're not already dead, General. And if they are, or are somehow incapacitated...then we are all in very serious danger." Piett's tone was somber.
"You really don't sugar-coat things, do you? Either way, I'm not goin' anywhere until I know the Princess is safe. I'm ready if you are." Solo hefted his blaster up, in a ready position, his eyes meeting Piett steadily.
The Admiral said simply, "Then let's go, General."
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Wedge Antilles felt decidedly better already. Prepping the X-wing, R2-D2 twittering away, he felt the familiar sensation of excited anticipation come over him. The thrill of the battle. His fellow Rouge Squadron members were similarly readying their ships, preparing to head out. By now, Han must have sent for the Alliance Fleet. With that back-up, handling the Imperial ships may not be too much trouble. If they were lucky. All they needed to do was contact the Alliance fleet, tell them which Imperial ships to avoid. Thankfully the Emperor's personal ships were of a different design than the rest of the Fleet, so it should be easy to tell them apart. His ego was far too grand to be defended by the same ships that patrolled the rest of the galaxy. Well, thank the Maker for small favours. They'd put Rebel ships in with Imperial ones as well, to set them apart...let Mon Mothma and the others know they were on the same side.
Taking a moment for himself as the crew readied his X-wing, Wedge shook his head thoughtfully. How in the name of the Maker had he ended up fighting next to Imperials? Alliance and Empire struggling side by side. The Officers on the Executor were certainly not the type of Imperial he'd expected to come across. The short amount of time he'd spent with them here conversing had been eye-opening. These men, personally hand-picked by Vader himself, were different. They weren't so very opposite after all. They had the same goals, they'd just been waiting for Vader to make his move. Now, they could work together to achieve them. No longer Alliance or Imperial, they were all simply rebels with one common enemy. The Emperor.
R2 chirped to him, snapping him out of his reverie. As he settled into the cockpit, the blackness of space greeted his vision. The canopy closed, and Wedge smiled in spite of himself...that thrill was back. "All right R2, ready to go?" The droid beeped back, translation rolling across his screen. Biting back a moment of frustration, Wedge answered, "No R2...Luke's not going to be flying in this one...sorry to disappoint you, but you're stuck with me."
The droid gave a mournful sound, his dome swiveling back and forth between the opened hanger doors and Wedge. "Come on, R2. Luke wouldn't have had you come with me if he didn't think you'd be perfectly safe." A pause, no answer from R2. Finally, the Corellian said, "Let's go R2...I promise I'll get you back to Luke in one piece."
A final short blat from the droid, and the X-wing headed out of the Executor, the rest of Rouge Squadron falling in behind, Imperial ships scattered throughout. As each member of his group signed in over the comm, Wedge focused his thoughts and surveyed the scene in front of him. Being Coreillian, he'd practically been born spouting odds. But this was a battle he wouldn't want to hedge a bet on. He knew only one thing...this would be a day he'd never forget...however long he lived.
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Han Solo had been to some pretty strange places, with the Alliance and without. He'd spent time on unique planets, in odd cities, and in peculiar parts of space. Yet, despite all this, being in Lord Vader's personal quarters may have been the most unexpected place he could have ever dreamt of being in. If he'd anticipated some sort of dark torture chamber, or a grand tribute to the malevolence in which Vader dwelt, Han Solo was duly shocked. It would have been a good lesson in being judgmental...but try telling that to a Corellian.
Sparse, dimly lit, clean lines and open space. A simple computer terminal and view screen. Something Han could only assume was the mediation chamber. He'd heard rumours of that while at the Academy, but no one was able to prove it existed. A grand view port, and all trappings in soft, deep blues. Except for something on the far wall...Han squinted. What was it? Stepping closer to it, Han heard Piett's quick intake of breath as he hissed, "General, we don't have time to take in the sights. We need to get into that throne room."
"Relax, Piett, I'm just lookin'. What is that, anyway...artwork? That's kinda odd, don't you think?" Han gave a sarcastic laugh. "Imagine, Darth Vader, art aficionado."
Piett was still anxious. "I am not sure what it is, Solo...even I've never been here before."
Walking closer to the far wall, Han said, "Then how do you know there's a door to the throne room here?"
"Because I know the layout of this ship, General, and I have been present when Lord Vader leaves the throne room and returns...here. I simply have not been on this side of the door."
Han had reached the wall, and sure enough, it was artwork. A painting, Han couldn't say what media...he'd need Leia for that, but it was of someplace familiar to him. The twin suns setting over some rocky outcroppings in one of the deserts of Tatooine. Pale golds, deep reds, browns and blues so vibrant...Han wanted to reach out and touch the painting. Interesting. Luke had told Han once that his Father had also grown up on Tatooine...part of the reason why the sad excuse for a planet held such a prominent place in Luke's heart. Obviously, it was important to Vader too. But the real question was not why Vader had the painting at all...it was when he'd obtained it. Had he always owned it? Or had he acquired it after he'd learned he had a child. Luke, who'd grown up on Tatooine. Like his Father. A visual reminder of the son he knew existed but who was not with him. A symbol of longing. Very interesting...
"Are you ready now, General, or would you prefer to have a seat and sketch the painting in your notebook?" Piett asked dryly.
"Sarcasm really isn't you, Admiral. I'd stick to management." Han rejoined Piett across the room, seeing for the first time the doorway nestled near the far corner. He could hear nothing coming from inside, but knowing that they were in Vader's personal quarters probably meant that the walls were thicker than usual to block out all noise from the outside. One of the perks of being a higher-up. Han remembered his time at the Academy...the student quarters walls so thin...he could never get any sleep.
"General...General. We really must move on!"
"Uh, sorry Admiral...just lost in thought, that's all. Sorry."
Piett gave Han a slight frown, then, "Are you ready to save your Princess?"
Bringing up his weapon again, Han merely answered flatly, "Like I said, Admiral...just tell me where to point my blaster."
