Disclaimer: Disney owns it now, but I don't care what they're up to.
"In my dreams here, I have seen the destruction of the Jedi. The death of the Republic. I have seen the Temple in ruins, the Senate smashed, and Coruscant itself shattered by orbital bombardment from immense ships of impossible designs. I have seen Coruscant, the seat of galactic civilization, become a jungle far more hostile and alien than any on Haruun Kal. I have seen the end of civilization."
From the Journals of Mace Windu
Chapter 7:
In the Sullust system the Rebel fleet gathered: vast Mon Calamari star cruisers, Nebulon-B frigates captured from the Empire, Assault Frigates converted from old Republic Dreadnoughts, Corellian gunships and corvettes, recommissioned Alderaanian frigates, Venator-class Star Destroyers reclaimed from junkyards, ex-CIS warships carefully hidden for years, bulk cruisers converted to carriers for all kinds of Starfighters: X-Wings, Y-Wings, A-Wings, B-Wings, T-Wings, Z-95's, Skipray's and gunboats.
The Rebels had never gathered their entire fleet into one place before, but even this vast force was not the full might of the Rebellion; for it did not include the various Sector Forces all across the Empire that were, even now, staging attacks against countless Imperial targets.
In the war room of the Rebel flagship, Home One, hundreds of Rebel commanders of many species gathered and awaited orders. The grapevine was alive with rumors and excitement. At the center of the room was a large circular table with a holo-projector, currently inactive.
Lando Calrissian made his way through the crowd and over to his friends.
"Well, look at you," Han said, "A general."
Lando grinned. "Someone must have told them about my little maneuver at the Battle of Tanaab." Tanaab was an agarian planet that had been raided seasonally by bandits from the nearby planet Norualac. Before Lando's stint as Baron-Administrator of Cloud City, he had wiped out the bandits against all odds, using unheard of strategies and exceptional flying. And all for a bet.
"Well don't look at me," said Han, "I just told them you were a fair pilot, I had no idea they were looking for someone to lead this crazy attack."
"I'm surprised they didn't ask you to do it."
"Well who says they didn't?" Han smirked. "But I ain't crazy. You're the respectable one, remember?"
The conversations died down when Mon Mothma, a stately middle-aged woman dressed in white and the elected leader of the Rebel Alliance, arrived with two of her chief military advisors: General Crix Madine and Admiral Gial Ackbar. Madine was in charge of the Rebel Alliance's Special Forces and, like many other Rebels, was an ex-Imperial. In Madine's case, he had created the notorious Imperial Storm Commandos before his defection. Ackbar was a Mon Calamari and a veteran of the Clone Wars where he had led the defense of his people against the Separatist-influenced Quarren.
"The Emperor has made a critical error and the time for our attack has come." The lights dimmed as the central holo-projector activated, projecting a holographic display of the unfinished Death Star, hovering beside the moon of Endor. "The data brought to us by the Bothan spies pinpoints the exact location of the Emperor's new battlestation. With the Imperial fleet spread throughout the galaxy in a vain effort to engage us, it is relatively unprotected. We also know that the weapon systems of this Death Star are not yet operational. But mostly importantly—," Mon Mothma paused for emphasis, "we have learned that the Emperor himself is personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of this Death Star. Many Bothans died to bring us this information."
Luke, who had been there when they'd died, nodded grimly at the price they'd paid for this information.
Mara frowned and pursed her lips in thought.
"Admiral Ackbar, please," Mon Mothma finished and Ackbar stepped forward.
"You can see here the Death Star orbiting the forest moon of Endor. Although the weapon systems on this Death Star are not yet operational, the Death Star does have a strong defense mechanism. It is protected by an energy shield, which is generated from the nearby forest moon of Endor." Ackbar pressed a button on the table and a coruscating energy shield appeared, encompassing both the Death Star and the Endor moon. "The shield must be deactivated if any attack is to be attempted." Another button enlarged the display of the Death Star so that it occupied the full space of the projector and showed a simplified internal schematic. "Once the shield is down our cruisers will create a perimeter while the fighters fly into the superstructure and make an attempt to knock out the main reactor." Ackbar pressed one last button and the holoprojector shut off, bringing the lights back up. "General Calrissian has volunteered to lead the fighter attack."
"Good luck," Han said. "You're gonna need it."
"General Madine," Ackbar said and Madine stepped forward.
"We have stolen a small Imperial shuttle," said Madine. "Disguised as a cargo ship, but using a secret Imperial code, a strike tream will land on the moon and deactivate the shield generator."
"It sounds dangerous," Threepio said over a sudden murmur throughout the room.
"I wonder who they found to pull that off," Leia said sotto voce to Han, who looked at her incredulously.
"General Solo," Madine continued, "Is your strike team assembled?" Now it was Leia's turn to wear that sudden incredulous, disbelieving look at the news that Han had finally, officially, joined them.
"Uhh, my team is ready," said Han, "but I don't have a command crew for the shuttle." Chewie interjected a sharp growl and raised his paw. "It's gonna be rough, pal, I didn't want to speak with you." But Chewie insisted with another growl. "That's one."
"General," said Leia, savoring the title, "Count me in."
"I'm with you too," said Luke.
"As am I," Mara added.
The assembly broke up into many small groups for last minute farewells.
Artoo beeped a singsong observation to Threepio, who replied, "'Exciting' is hardly the word I would choose." Being a translation droid, of course, Threepio was then immediately occupied trying to pick the right word to describe the present situation.
Luke went and found his good friend Wedge Antilles.
"You sure you want to be a ground-pounder on this Luke?" Wedge asked. "After all, you destroyed the first one of these things. It doesn't feel right to have you grounded for the second one."
"There are few things I enjoy more than flying," Luke said, "But the squadron is yours now; your destiny, for a time anyway, will be to lead the Rogues to victory, for I sense that even if we win this battle, there will be many more yet to fight. My destiny, however, is to restore the Jedi Order."
"I don't know which one of us has the harder task," Wedge said. They clasped hands. "May the Force be with you."
"And with you."
Down in one of the hanger bays of Home One sat, among other ships, the Millennium Falcon and the captured Imperial shuttle. Halfway between the two ships Han and Lando were saying their own farewells, in their own way:
"Look," Han said, "I want you to take her. I mean it, take her. You need all the help you can get, she's the fastest ship in the fleet."
Lando put up his hands. "All right old buddy. You know, I know what she means to you. I'll take good care of her. She—she won't get a scratch."
Han started for the shuttle, then turned back with a warm smile, "I got your promise. Not a scratch."
"Look, would you get going you pirate."
They exchanged jaunty salutes.
"Good luck."
"You, too."
They parted without another word as none more needed to be said.
As Han entered the cockpit of the Imperial shuttle, Luke was doing some fine-tuning on a rear navigator panel. Mara was seated behind him and the droids stood near her. Major Derlin, the leader of the commando team, was seated across from her. Chewbacca, in the copilot's seat, was trying to figure out the Imperial controls.
"You got her warmed up?" Han asked as he took the pilot's seat.
"Yeah, she's coming up," Luke replied.
Chewie growled grumpily.
"No, I don't think the Empire had Wookiees in mind when then designed her, Chewie."
Leia entered and took her seat next to Luke.
Chewie barked and hit some switches, starting the preflight. Han found his attention drawn to the Falcon, which could be seen from the window. For a moment, he just stared at the ship that had been and still was—in so many ways—his life. So many times she had saved him with her speed, and so many times he had saved her with his cunning. So many things they had seen together.
"Hey," Leia nudged him gently, "Are you awake?" She was reluctant to interrupt this moment, knowing that Han had a special love for his ship, but time was dear.
"Yeah, I just got a funny feeling," said Han, "Like I'm not gonna see her again."
"Come on, General," said Leia softly, "Let's move."
"Right," Han said, "Okay, Chewie, let's see what this piece of junk can do. Ready everybody?"
"All set," said Luke.
Threepio said quietly, "Here we go again."
Han threw some more switches and the stolen shuttle lifted off, eased out of the docking bay and headed out into space, lowering its wings into flight position.
"All right. Hang on," Han pushed the hyperdrive lever and the shuttle jumped to hyperspace.
Darth Vader stepped out of the elevator into the Emperor's throne room on the new Death Star. He ignored the Royal Guards standing on either side of the door, clad in red and holding force pikes, and walked across the black floor, past the deep chasm off to the right, and up the stairs to the platform where the Emperor's throne sat before a huge circular window.
The Emperor was sitting in his chair and staring out into space, at the uncompleted half of the Death Star where men in space suits even now labored, and at the green moon of Endor beyond that glimmered like a jewel in the blackness of space. A blackness that was broken up only by the twinkling of distant stars, like specs of diamonds.
Darth Vader paused and knelt behind his master, awaiting recognition. The Emperor let him wait and continued perusing the vista of all that was his and more. It had not always been so. Once Palpatine had merely been a Senator and the galaxy had been a Republic under the care and protection of the Jedi Knights. So it had been for thousands of years.
But corruption had set in and eroded the foundations of the Republic, not quickly but slowly, like the slow drip of water over a rock. Greedy senators, arrogant bureaucrats, perverted officials. Like a vast tree, the Republic had withstood many external assaults but all the while had continued to rot from within.
Into that mix had come Senator Palpatine; through fraud, subterfuge, bribery, terror, clever promises, astute political maneuvering and manufactured crises, he had risen to become Supreme Chancellor of the Senate and then had become accumulating more and more power, all the while presenting the façade of a mild-mannered but well-meaning politician from a backwater world, who had only risen to his position by chance.
Then had come the Separatist Crisis, followed by the Clone Wars. Few knew even today the true purpose of that conflict, namely that it had been a diversion, an illusion, a Jedi Trap on a grand scale. Merely by fighting at all they had already lost and by the time they'd realized it, it had been too late for them to stop their extermination at the hands of the very soldiers they'd trusted their lives to. The Republic had finally fallen and from its ashes had risen the Empire.
An Empire ostensibly devoted to order, security, and peace, but the Emperor knew better. Everything and everyone in the Empire existed solely for the Emperor's own benefit; nothing less and nothing more. The Empire would live as long as the Emperor lived, and the Emperor intended to live forever; and if he did not, then nothing else mattered.
Finally, the Emperor rotated his chair and gazed at his still kneeling apprentice.
"What is thy bidding, my master?"
"Send the fleet to the far side of Endor," the Emperor said, "There it will stay until called for."
"What of the reports of the Rebel fleet massing near Sullust?"
"It is of no concern," said the Emperor, "Soon the Rebellion will be crushed and young Skywalker will be one of us."
"And what of young Jade?" Vader asked, "I have reports that she has been seen in Skywalker's company."
"It changes nothing," the Emperor said, "the Rebels have no choice but to attack, and they know it as well as we do. She will be dealt with in due time."
"Yes, my master."
"Your work here is finished, my friend," the Emperor continued, "Go out to the command ship and await my order."
"As you wish, my master."
Vader rose and exited. The Emperor turned back to the window that showed his domain.
Once aboard the command ship, Vader withdrew to his hyperbaric chamber. He was about to seal it up when two people entered the room: Jix, one of Vader's many human operatives, and Kohvrekhar, a Noghri Death Commando.
"Report."
"Skywalker has retrieved Solo from Jabba's Place," the Noghri stated, "With him were Jade, Princess Organa, the Wookiee, and the gambler Calrissian."
"The Princess is something different," Jix added, "First she deep-fried Jabba with a thermal detonator and then she cut down Boba Fett with a lightsaber. I've never seen anyone move that fast."
Behind his mask, Vader frowned. Organa had a lightsaber? And, if Jix was to be believed, not only knew how to use it but possessed Force abilities? At first that didn't seem to make sense and yet…
And yet Vader remembered sensing tremendous strength within her during her interrogation…and something else as well, something he hadn't quite been able to put his finger on.
"Although I didn't get very close," Kohvrekhar said, "I was still close enough to get a whiff of her scent and it was very similar to Skywalker's scent…and to yours, my lord."
For a moment Vader just sat there trying to understand why Kohvrekhar would say that. Noghri had a very sensitive sense of smell—one so good in fact that they could even sense blood relationships…and suddenly the pieces all came together: Force abilities, a strange sense of familiarity, a definite resemblance to her, and a similar scent to Luke and himself….
'I am a fool! Why didn't I realize it before?' His right hand came up in a fist and all the glass in the room suddenly shattered, startling both Jix and Kohvrekhar.
"My lord?" the Noghri asked cautiously.
"Leave!" Vader snapped, barely in control of his anger and both of them hastened to obey.
'I was right; she was carrying a girl. We were both right….twins!'
The Force must have a twisted sense of humor and Kenobi…Kenobi had died much too quickly and too painlessly. He deserved to suffer a thousand painful deaths for this!
Yet even now, four years after killing him, Vader could still almost hear Kenobi's chiding voice:
I'm not the one who tortured her, Anakin.
Vader pressed a button on the chair and from the top of the chamber a metallic arm descended, grasped onto Vader's helmet, then lifted it up and suddenly he could not breathe. Vader stoked the anger he was already feeling with his anger at his condition, on his hatred of Obi-Wan, and of the Emperor, and on the pain he felt every moment of every day. The energies of the Dark Side filled him and for a moment he could breath as normal men could.
Vader focused his anger and fought the sense of relief, clung to the feelings of pain even as they were fading. He concentrated on the injustice of his condition, the unfairness of being confined to this suit. His anger held and so did the healing energies. One minute became two; two minutes became five.
He was becoming stronger and soon he would add Luke and Leia's power to his own and finally be able to shed this armor and walk as normal men walked—Vader fought the joy that threatened to erupt…and failed. The healing energies evaporated and Vader could breathe no more. With a gesture he sealed the hyperbaric chamber.
Still, he had held for five minutes now, a new record, and Vader knew that it was possible to hold such energies indefinitely. The Sith Lord Darth Scion, who had lived some four thousand years ago, had managed to survive injuries so severe that the Force itself was all that had kept his body intact. And he had lived like that for years. But, unfortunately for Vader, Scion had not left behind a holocron describing how he had accomplished that feat—forcing Vader to try and reinvent the technique through trial and error. The fact that he was getting better seemed to show that he was on the right path, but one thing continued to hold him back: that small spot of light within the dark, a tiny fragment of Anakin Skywalker that Vader had never been able to purge from himself.
That was his flaw, Vader knew, the thing that was stopping him from completely immersing himself in the Dark Side. A flaw that Vader had never been able to eradicate over the past twenty-three years no matter how hard he'd tried. A tiny spot that had become a little larger the moment Vader had learned that a piece of her still lived in his son—inarguable proof that the Emperor had lied to him even then…and that was a little larger now that he'd realized the truth about Leia.
Vader had known, beyond any doubt, that Luke was son from the moment he'd heard the boy's name and his first instinct had been to find him and train him. But if the Starkiller fiasco had taught Vader one thing, it was that a secret apprentice could never be concealed from the Emperor. And so Vader had pursued another course of action, one partially inspired by the Emperor's own behavior during the Clone Wars. Vader had used all the official reasons for pursuing Luke to mask another agenda: every attempt to capture him had been genuine enough to fool almost anyone but in truth Luke's escapes had served Vader's purposes almost as well as his capture would have, for each time Luke had learned something valuable.
And so for several years Vader had taught his son from afar, all the while expending considerable efforts to keep the Emperor from learning Luke's name, and it seemed to have been working. It was through Vader's distant manipulations that Luke had crossed paths with and defeated Baron Orman Tagge and the Dark Jedi Kharys—the former of whom had been a longtime thorn in Vader's side and the latter of whom Vader had personally trained—and in so doing learned valuable lessons about fighting. Janek Sunber, Domina Tagge and Shira Brie had each been used to teach Luke about betrayal in an effort to harden and isolate him.
Unfortunately, Vader had eventually realized that he must not have been careful enough for the Emperor had at some point gotten wise to his plans; their conversation shortly after the Battle of Hoth had proven—once again—that nothing could be hidden from the Emperor, and Vader had been forced to both move up and modify his plans.
On Cloud City Vader had finally faced his son in combat and that fight had made him feel, like he had never felt before—challenged him in a way he hadn't been challenged in far too long. The boy was nearly ripe now, Vader could feel it. He just needed one more little nudge and he would embrace the Dark Side. And Leia…she might more closely resemble her and have even taken the same job as her, but Leia's personality was much more like his own. And, if Jix's report was accurate, she was already not thinking or acting like a Jedi. That was…promising.
The space about Endor bustled with activity as construction proceeded on the Death Star. Transports, shuttles, freighters, and TIE Fighters flew about the area, a hive of frantic activity overseen by the massive Super Destroyer Executor. In the midst of it all, the arrival of yet another shuttle went almost unnoticed.
"If they don't go for this," said Han, "We're gonna have to get out of here pretty quick, Chewie." Chewie growled an agreement though everyone knew that this puny shuttle wasn't about to outrun anything. A voice came over the comms:
"We have you on our screen now, please identify."
"Shuttle Tydirium," said Han, sounding every bit like a bored Imperial pilot, "requesting deactivation of the deflector shield."
"Shuttle Tydirium," the controller replied, "transmit the clearance code for shield passage."
"Transmission commencing," Han said.
Tension mounted in the cockpit as the transmission began.
Leia bit her lip. "Now we find out if that code is worth the price we paid," she said. The Super Star Destroyer was getting larger in the viewport and she was getting a very cold feeling creeping up her spine, as well something dark, dread and foreboding and somehow familiar.
"It'll work," Han said. "It'll work."
Chewie whined nervously.
Luke stared at the huge Super Star Destroyer that loomed in front of them, like a glittering, malignant cataract—and filled with an all-too familiar black fear.
"Vader's on that ship," Luke whispered.
"Now don't get jittery, Luke," Han said, "There are a lot of command ships."
"Luke's right," Mara said, also staring at the ship. "That's Vader."
Although Leia had never sensed Vader in the Force before, she nonetheless nodded as well, her throat suddenly dry.
"Keep your distance though, Chewie," Han continued, "but don't look like you're trying to keep your distance. Chewie barked the obvious question. "I don't know. Fly casual."
"We're endangering the mission," Luke said quietly, echoing the thoughts of Leia and Mara. "We shouldn't' have come."
"It's your imagination, kid," Han said trying to sound dismissively, though all this negativity was starting to get to him, "Come on, let's keep a little optimism."
"I don't know," Leia tightly, "they're taking a long time with that code clearance."
Even Chewie mumbled grimly.
Lord Vader had been standing on the bridge of the Executor contemplating the Death Star through the viewscreen: a technological terror even greater than its predecessor, a monument to the Dark Side and the physical embodiment of the Tarkin Doctrine. And then, all at once he became absolutely still and cast his senses out.
Someone was here. An echo only he had heard, a vibration only he had felt, had passed—no, had not passed, was still there at the edge of perception, swirling the moment and altering the shape of things. Someone was here…someone familiar.
Vader turned and walked down a row of controllers, finally pausing next to Admiral Piett, who was leaning over the tracking screen of one of the controllers. Piett straightened at his approach, then bowed stiffly.
"Where is that shuttle going?" Vader demanded without preamble. Piett leaned back down and spoke into the comlink.
"Shuttle Tydirium, what is your cargo and destination?"
The filtered voice of the shuttle pilot replied, "Parts and technical personnel for the forest moon."
Piett looked to Vader, awaiting a reaction and hoping that nothing was wrong.
"Do they have a code clearance?" Vader questioned.
"It's an older code, but it checks out," Piett replied immediately. "I was about to clear them." There was no point in lying to Vader; he always knew if someone was lying. When Vader made no immediate reply, just stared at the screen, Piett continued hurriedly, "Should I hold them?"
"No," Vader finally said, "Leave them to me. I will deal with them myself
"As you wish, my Lord," Piett bowed, sounded a bit surprised. He nodded at the controller and said, "Carry on."
In the Tydirium the Rebels waited tensely.
"They're not going for it, Chewie," Han said, finally starting to sound grim as well. It was taking too long and more questions about things like cargo and destination would increase the danger of blowing their cover.
The static voice of the controller broke up, and then came in clearly over the comlink. "Shuttle Tydirium, deactivation of the shield will commence immediately. Follow your present course."
Han and Chewie exhaled in simultaneous relief, as if their trouble was all over now instead of only just beginning. Luke, Leia, and Mara all continued to stare at the command ship, engaged in their own silent and complex dialogue.
"Okay," Han grinned as Chewie barked loudly, "I told you it was gonna to work, no problem."
Han maneuvered the stolen shuttle smoothly toward the green moon.
On the Executor Vader, Piett, and the controller watched as the deflector shield parted just long enough to admit the Tydirium, which headed slowly down toward Endor.
"Ready my shuttle," Vader announced, "I must go to the Emperor." Without waiting for a response, Vader turned and strode off.