CHAPTER 3

General Jan Dodonna, Alliance Minister of War and commander of the Yavin IV base, sat back in his chair and placed his datapad on his desk. "I have to hand it to you, Captain Skywalker. Under other commanding officers, most of your pilots would have come back in pieces. You showed great leadership out there."

"Thank you, sir," Luke Skywalker replied respectfully. "But my pilots deserve all the commendation for staying alive."

"Ah, you're being modest," Commander Narra interjected from beside Luke. "But the Rogues are certainly proving themselves to be the premier pilots of the Alliance. I'll have to instruct my Renegades to spend more time in the sims."

Luke grinned and again thanked his superior officers. He'd been in charge of Rogue Flight for three months now and was finally starting to feel like a true leader in the Alliance. His pilots were confident, listened to orders, and worked extremely well together—when Janson wasn't on another prank rampage, that is. (Of course, such antics usually united the rest of the Rogues against him in extremely humorous retaliations, so Luke always turned a blind eye to such occasions.)

Rogue Flight had just returned to Yavin IV from an escort mission that had become an ambush, but the Rogues had managed to hold off the TIEs long enough for the transports to make another jump to lightspeed. Luke had felt immense pride that his group had been able to pull off such a feat, and was once again very glad for all of his pilots—especially Wedge, who had more than proven himself as his XO. Luke smiled, thinking of how his friend had opened up since the Death Star battle, and finally seemed to have gotten over his guilt about being forced to pull out of the trench run, and was now putting all his efforts into flying for the Rogues.

Both Luke and Narra rose from their chairs and saluted General Dodonna, but the aging general stopped Luke before he could leave the office. "As you know, Captain Skywalker, we'll be starting the final evacuation of the base within the week. After your success in your last mission, I hope that I can count on your Rogues to help lead the process."

Luke nodded eagerly. "Of course, general. We'll be glad to assist in any way possible."

"I knew I could count on you. You know, you take after your father very much."

The young pilot's head snapped up. "You knew my father?"

"Knew of him," Dodonna clarified. "Everyone who served in the Clone Wars knew of General Skywalker, of course."

The name echoed through Luke's mind: General Skywalker. For most of his life, he had believed that his father had been a navigator on a spice freighter. Then, one fateful day, he had met Ben Kenobi and come to learn that his father had in fact been a Jedi Knight named Anakin Skywalker, who had been killed by Darth Vader before Luke was born. Since arriving at the Alliance, some of the older leaders had approached Luke with stories of his father. They had described him as a fierce warrior, willing to go to any lengths to turn the tide of battle. They seemed to believe that Luke was destined to follow in his footsteps.

Their belief in him scared him senseless…but also filled him with immense determination to prove them right.

In comparison, nobody seemed to have any information about the identity of his mother. It appeared that his parents had not been married, or they had kept their relationship a secret. It saddened Luke to suddenly have so much information about his father, and yet his mother's identity was still shrouded in mystery. He tried not to dwell on that fact, and remained grateful that he at least knew the truth about his father now.

"You even resemble him," Dodonna continued. "We all believed that the Jedi were gone after Palpatine came to power, but now…it seems as if we were wrong."

Luke nodded, unsure of what to say. He had grown confident in his abilities as a pilot but his Jedi skills were still lagging far behind. He made a promise to himself to start practicing more after they arrived at their new base.

"…leadership believes that someone such as yourself will be a rallying point for the rest of the military," Dodonna was saying. Luke mentally scolded himself and readjusted his focus. "You have more than proven yourself in your time here, and as such I am officially promoting you to the rank of commander. Congratulations, Commander Skywalker."

The general stood and Luke quickly followed, snapping a salute. "Thank…thank you, sir," he stammered. Luke had heard rumors of a promotion for a while, but had refused to believe it would actually happen. It appeared that Wedge had been right after all.

"We'll expect you at the evacuation briefing tomorrow morning at 0800. And feel free to bring your executive officer."

Luke grinned; Wedge was going to hate being dragged to an official briefing. He couldn't wait to break the news to his XO that his presence was required, especially so early in the morning. "I'll be sure to do that, general. Thank you very much." Snapping another salute, Luke turned and left the office. He felt like he was walking on air as he made his way down the hallway. He was so distracted by his new promotion that he nearly walked smack into Han and Leia, coming from the other direction.

"Hey kid, watch where you're going," the Corellian scolded good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Han." Luke rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He hated doing stupid things in front of the Princess. "I guess I was distracted."

"I'll say. It's a good thing I was here to protect Her Highnessness from getting run over, huh?"

Next to Han, Leia scowled. Not giving Luke an opportunity to answer, she leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have you reported to General Dodonna yet?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.

Luke smiled sheepishly. "I just left his office, actually."

The Princess broke into a huge grin. "Well then, would it be safe to tell you congratulations?"

"It would."

Leia threw her arms around Luke. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Well…" Luke trailed off, feeling his cheeks flush.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Han interrupted.

"Ah, nothing; Dodonna promoted me to Commander."

"Hey, that's great, kid," Han exclaimed, slapping Luke on the back. "You deserve it, you really do."

"Thanks, Han." Luke couldn't help but notice that Han didn't seem as excited to hear Luke's news, and knew why: Han believed that Luke was signing his own death mark by serving in the Alliance. To Luke's amazement, the smuggler had stuck around for the past several months, helping out with the evacuation process and even going on several supply runs. Luke half-expected Han to take off for good any day now, but the Corellian kept surprising him, and Luke wondered if Han was sticking around just to keep an eye on him. Luke wasn't complaining, of course; he, more than anyone, wanted Han to join the Alliance for good. But Han didn't seem any more willing to dedicate himself to a higher cause than he'd been the day they'd arrived on the moon. At least he finally seemed to accept that Luke was in it for the long haul.

Luke turned to Leia. "I guess I'll see you at the briefing tomorrow?"

"Yes, and don't worry; I doubt they'll expect you to come to all the Command meetings from now on," Leia teased.

"And you wonder why I ain't signed up for your crazy Rebellion," Han mumbled under his breath. Again Leia scowled at him.

"Come on, Captain," she said through gritted teeth. "And don't forget, as my escort, you get to attend the briefing tomorrow, too."

Han rolled his eyes. "Oh, great." After saying farewell, the pair continued down the hallway. Luke turned around and watched their retreating forms, suddenly curious. Just when had they started walking around together? And Han was flying Leia off Yavin? She could hardly stand the man. Luke couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

But he shrugged and did his best to put those thoughts out of his mind. It wouldn't do him any good to be preoccupied during the evacuation process. Instead, he'd go inform his pilots that they were now required to refer to him as 'Commander' at all times.

He couldn't wait to hear Wedge's reaction to that piece of news.

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Admiral Kendal Ozzel stepped onto the bridge of the Executor,pausing for just a moment to observe his new subordinates before striding forth to converse with the ship's captain. Promoted just a month prior, Ozzel had been granted the most coveted position in the Imperial Navy: commander of Darth Vader's personal fleet of Star Destroyers known as Death Squadron.

The group of Star Destroyers, along with the newly constructed Super Star Destroyer, had been tasked with one goal and one goal only: to find and destroy the Rebel forces. Ozzel's first order was to lead the assault on the Rebel base at Yavin IV. He knew that most of the Rebels had already evacuated, but it was a symbolic mission, meant to strike fear in the hearts of traitors and demonstrate the might of the Imperial fleet. The Death Star may have been destroyed, but the Imperial Navy was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Admiral Ozzel?" Captain Firmus Piett turned from his position behind the navigator's station. "We'll be coming out of lightspeed in five minutes."

Ozzel nodded curtly. "Very good. Inform General Veers to prepare his troops for ground assault."

"Yes, Admiral. Should I inform Lord Vader that we'll be arriving in system?"

"No, Captain. Leave that to me."

"As you wish, sir." Piett saluted and left the bridge, leaving Ozzel to watch the man's disappearing form. Piett was a competent captain, with a lot of support from the Executor's crew. And, as such, Ozzel disliked the man entirely. Because he was often shuttled between the various Star Destroyers that made up Death Squadron, Ozzel was not nearly as respected among the flagship's officers as Piett. That had to change, and quickly, if Ozzel was to assert his authority as the most powerful officer in the fleet.

Of course, there was one person in the fleet who was vastly more powerful. The admiral paused as he reached Lord Vader's chambers. The leader of the Empire's military was an enigma, at once both highly logical and competent as well as volatile and temperamental. Vader did not tolerate mistakes, and larger blunders were often punishable by death. But serving with Vader was the highest recognition one could receive in the Imperial Navy, and therefore Ozzel had accepted his new position greedily, hoping that it could one day grant him even more power in the Empire. Perhaps if something were to happen to Lord Vader…

He silenced that thought before finishing. He had heard rumors that Vader could read thoughts, and had to continuously remind himself to clear his mind before approaching his commander.

Entering Vader's quarters, Ozzel waited before the black dome in which he'd come to learn Vader spent much of his time off the bridge. After several moments, the chamber began to separate, like the mouth of a great beast opening to devour its prey, to reveal Darth Vader, staring at Ozzel unsettlingly.

"Yes, admiral?"

"We are approaching the Yavin system, my lord."

"Good. Are General Veers' troops prepared for ground assault?"

"Yes, my lord."

"When we arrive in the system, order the other Destroyers to form a blockade. The Executor alone will approach the moon and destroy the base."

Ozzel frowned. "Are you sure, Lord Vader? We would have much more firepower if accompanied by other Destroyers—"

"You will do as I command, Admiral Ozzel. Bring the Executor and the Executor only. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," Ozzel responded. Before he could say anything else, the chamber closed in front of him.

Sighing, Ozzel made his way back to the bridge just in time for the reversion to real space. He begrudgingly transmitted Vader's orders to the other captains and made preparations for the Executor to make another short jump to Yavin IV.

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Every officer on the Executor knew when Lord Darth Vader arrived on the bridge. His boots clacked ominously and his breath rasped menacingly, a warning to all his subordinates that mistakes would not be tolerated on Vader's watch.

Vader ignored the stares as he stalked towards Admiral Ozzel, who was staring out the viewports at the mottled pattern of hyperspace. "Well, admiral?"

"I transmitted your orders as requested, my lord. We'll be arriving at the Rebel base in moments. General Veers has orders to launch his troops as soon as we come out of hyperspace."

"Good," Vader responded. He was so close to regaining the Emperor's favor. Now, he just had one more task to accomplish. "Inform General Veers that I will be accompanying his troops."

Ozzel's head snapped up in confusion. "My lord? Surely you won't be off the bridge during our assault?"

"I have business to attend to on the moon. Surely you are capable of commanding an assault on your own, admiral…?" Vader trailed off, allowing the implication to hover in the air. It worked wonderfully, and the aging admiral began to balk in protest.

"Yes…yes, of course," he stammered.

"Then you are in control now, Admiral Ozzel. Do not make me regret your assignment."

"Never, my lord."

"I hope so, admiral, for your sake," Vader threatened, staring down at Ozzel from behind helmeted eyes. Somehow, Ozzel managed to maintain his composure and did not back down. The Sith Lord gave him some credit for that.

With a swift movement of his cloak, Vader turned and exited the bridge. Soon, he would be on the moon; soon, he would have the Rebel leaders in his clutches.

And very soon, he would know the name of the pilot he'd almost shot down, the one who was so very strong in the Force. And the Emperor would be pleased.

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"This piece of junk is never going to get us past that Super Star Destroyer!"

Han cringed and tried to ignore the shrill voice coming from behind the captain's chair. "Hey, flying in this ship was your idea, sweetheart, not mine!"

"Don't remind me." Han could almost hear Leia's eyes roll.

"Are you at least strapped in back there? We gotta jump as soon as we get clear of these TIEs."

"Of course I'm strapped in, you nerfherder! I do have some experience in space travel, you know."

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on the way Han wanted to look at the situation—See-Threepio's chatter interrupted their bickering. "Captain Solo, I do believe that Princess Leia is correct. The odds of successfully avoiding capture by an Imperial Super Star Destroyer are approximately—"

"Shut up, Goldenrod, or you're gonna find yourself blown out the airlock!"

"…Shutting up, sir."

Han banked the Millennium Falcon into another sharp turn, avoiding laser fire from the squadron of TIE fighters in hot pursuit. They'd sustained several direct hits already, and even Han was starting to wonder if his trusty ship was ready to fall apart. The Imps' new flagship was a sight to behold, but Han had seen enough of it for a lifetime. Growling in frustration, Han toggled the comm switch. "Hey, kid, any time now!"

Luke's voice came through apologetically. "Sorry Han, we got held up. Turn to point oh-seven; we'll take care of the TIEs and escort you out."

"Gladly." As Han turned the Falcon as requested, he saw six X-wings approaching from behind. Several of the pursuing TIEs were vaped immediately, and their green laser fire finally stopped crossing the Falcon's hull. Han breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Luke's X-wing peel off from the others and close up with the ship, the other five snubfighters quickly demolishing the remaining TIEs.

"Are there any other transports on their way?" Luke asked. "We lost communication with the base."

Han grimaced, dreading his next words. "Sorry, kid, but I don't think anyone else is making it off."

Han could hear Luke's protest before it even began. "But there's only one ship out here, we can hold 'em off in time—"

"Imperial troops are on the ground, Luke. Sorry, but you better make the jump right behind us if you want to get out of here alive."

After a few seconds, Luke sighed. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "Go ahead and jump; we'll see you at the rendezvous. May the Force be with you."

"Yeah, you too, kid." Toggling the switch again, Han turned to his co-pilot. "Alright Chewie, punch it."

The stars outside the cockpit turned to lines, then the swirling patterns of hyperspace. Han leaned back in his chair in relief and pushed up his sleeves. "See, Princess?" he said, turning around to look smugly at the woman sitting behind him, with her arms crossed over her chest. "Nothing to it."

"Yes, well. It's a good thing Luke and the Rogues were there to bail you out." Without another word, she rose from her chair and exited the cockpit.

"What the—?" Han sputtered. After a moment, he hurled a stray datapad against the cockpit door. "And you be quiet!" he added, trying futilely to quiet Chewbacca's guffaws.

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Luke watched the Millennium Falcon disappear into hyperspace, feeling both relief that his friends had escaped and dread that he and his Rogues had no choice but to follow. Han was right; with Imperial troops on the ground, there was no way any other transports would be able to launch.

The Alliance had been prepared for an attack, but Intelligence had estimated that the attack would not come for several more days. They had hoped that the base would be fully evacuated by then, but they woke up to a surprise that morning: a group of Star Destroyers entering the system. Thankfully, the fleet had come out of hyperspace far away from Yavin IV, alerting the Alliance to the impending assault. General Dodonna's staff had managed to calculate hyperspace coordinates that would allow the few remaining transports to get around the blockade, and had stayed on the moon to direct the evacuation. As much as Luke wanted to stay behind to assist in the general's escape, he knew that the Rogues had to leave now if they were going to survive.

But that didn't mean Luke had to like the decision. He hated it. But he'd come to learn that, in the military, such decisions were often necessary to preserve the lives and freedom of many others.

After the final TIEs had been eliminated, Luke gave the command for the Rogues to jump to hyperspace. "You ready back there, Artoo?" His astromech droid blew an affirmative, almost encouraging, twitter.

With one last glance at the jungle moon, Luke pushed the hyperspace lever in his cockpit and silently asked forgiveness from all those he'd left behind.

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On the jungle moon of Yavin IV, Darth Vader strode through the abandoned Rebel base with singular purpose. General Veers had informed him that his troops had captured the base's leader, along with several other higher-ranking officers. It did not matter to Vader in the slightest that most of the base's personnel had already evacuated. As long as there was someone to interrogate, his mission would be a success. It still baffled Vader that Imperial Intelligence had not yet uncovered the name of the Rebel pilot that had destroyed the Death Star. He smiled to himself under his helmet, knowing that he would not fail his master in the way Isard had.

When Vader entered the base's command center, the aging Rebel general was slumped against the wall, blood dripping from a vicious wound on his head. Vader turned sharply to Veers, who was standing in observance, but did not reprimand him; it was clear through the Force that the Rebel was still coherent enough to be interrogated. The Sith Lord dismissed Veers and the other officers, wanting to interrogate the prisoner alone.

Leaning down to face the man, Vader reached out with the Force. "What is your name?"

The man opened his mouth several times, clearly trying to resist the pressure on his mind. But it was futile. "Dodonna," he croaked.

Vader recognized that name: General Dodonna, the Rebellion's so-called Minister of War, who had fought in the Clone Wars. Surely he would know the information Vader sought. "The pilot who destroyed the Death Star," he rumbled. "Is he here?"

Dodonna's head moved slowly back and forth. "Escaped…told him to get out…while he still could…"

Vader's fist clenched in anger, but he pushed aside the emotion, focusing on the man in front of him. He reached out further into the Force. "I want his name."

"Can't…give that…to you. He is hope…"

"You will tell me his name!" Vader roared. At the same time, his fist clenched again, and Dodonna began to choke. The general's eyes widened in fear but he remained defiant, shaking his head "no."

With no other option, Vader reached into the Force and pushed himself into the other man's brain. Dodonna screamed in agony and for a moment Vader thought he would remain silent until the end…

But unable to resist Vader's probe, he whispered two words: "Luke…Skywalker…"

Then, there was silence.

Vader stood abruptly, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You lie!" he snarled. But he knew it was the truth. He could read it in the general's mind, could feel it through the Force. The man was telling the truth.

"No lie…" he said. "He will be a Jedi…like his father…Empire will fall…"

With a roar, Vader grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Dodonna immediately crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

The Sith Lord stood over the body for a long time, silently brooding. Like his father…like him…

How could that be possible? They had died…both of them…he'd seen the holos! He would have known if he had a son…how could he not have known?

He will be a Jedi… His son…a Jedi, like he had once been? He thought back to the duel in the Death Star's corridors, when he had slain Kenobi and the Rebels had escaped. There had been a boy there…a boy in desert clothes with familiar blond hair… And the pilot he'd chased through the Death Star's trench had shone through the Force…

And Vader knew it was true.

His son lived. Kenobi had stolen him and warped him against his own father. He was a Rebel, and must now die. What other options were there—?

Empire will fall…

No. Not the Empire, Vader realized, the implications sending shivers down his spine.

The Emperor.

The Jedi had told Vader he was the Chosen One, the most powerful Jedi of all, and now he had a son. A son, with as much potential for power as his father. After Mustafar, Vader was not strong enough to stand alone against the Emperor…

But with a son…with a son, they would be unstoppable.

When he returned to his flagship, Lord Vader informed his master that the Rebel base had been destroyed in an impressive demonstration of the Executor's power. But, most unfortunately, there had been no survivors from which to extract the name of the pilot who had destroyed the Death Star.