NOTE: In my version of this galaxy far, far away, the Galactic Standard Year consists of ten calendar months, each containing 40 days, or four ten-day weeks. A Galactic Standard Day consists of twenty, fifty minute hours. But this is usually deferred in preference to local time.
This story is part three of an arc that started with Forty Days to Bespin and continued with One Night on Bespin. There are also references to my other stories, The Princess and the Sith Lord, Mission to Galadan, Under Coruscant, and Ice.
Inspirational music: "Blade Runner" soundtrack by Vangellis, "The Dish" soundtrack by Edmund Choi, "X-Men" soundtrack by Michael K-men, "Paris" the musical soundtrack by Jon English, and "Chess" the musical soundtrack by Benny and Bjorn from ABBA.
FAMILY MATTERS
By Leela Starsky.
CHAPTER ONE.
She was on Coruscant. Lying in the middle of an enormous bed draped with mollemar silk, itsbrilliant colours subdued by the soft light from the aromatic burners scattered around the room. Grinning up at the predatory-looking Corellian poised over her, delighting in the fact that he was about to make love to her, Leia Organa decided that at this particular moment in time she was the happiest woman in the Galaxy. She considered teasing Solo a little longer; considered wriggling out of his embrace and making him chase her around the bed again, but the noise of their boisterous game had brought Luke to the door last time and she didn't want the Tatooine farmboy there again.
A warm breeze drifted through the open window, stirring the feathers scattered all over the room. Feathers that had exploded from one of the pillows when she had hit Han with it. Leia's grin broadened at the memory and Solo's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"What?" he wanted to know.
Leia's look became gentle and she whispered, "Love you."
Solo nuzzled the side of her face as he manoeuvred himself between her legs and murmured, "Love you too, wife."
Wife. Leia let herself wallow happily in the moniker. They were just pretending, but it was nice to let herself believe it. Just for a little while…
"Husband," she heard herself tease softly.
"Mmmm," he growled, and she wondered if he had any idea what the sound of his voice did to her. How the deep rumble of it seemed to touch her very core.
I should tell him, she thought. Tell him before it's too late…
Then the carbonite slab hit the platform with a resounding smack.
….
Leia Organa woke with a gasp and the cold, hard reality of her cell slammed into her. She curled into a foetal ball, longing to escape back to her dreams. Escape from the prospect of Vader, escape from everything the Empire stood for, escape from the thought of going on without Han.
She took a shuddering breath and tried to calm the panicked race her heart was doing. Tried to force herself to relax, but she was trembling from cold as much as anything else. It had been such a pleasant dream too…
She closed her eyes, remembering the bed that she and Han had been forced to share in Farrouq's mansion on Coruscant over two years ago. When the risk to her life had required them to pretend that they were husband and wife. They had not made love then, but part of her wished they had.
A muffled wailing penetrated her cell and she put her hands over her ears to block it out. The door to her cell was thick, but by no means sound proof. Hearing the misery of fellow inmates was an integral part of the psychological torment of incarceration.
She had heard them drag Chewbacca out some time ago, his protests and bellows almost clear enough for her to make out his words. She hadn't heard him since and it worried her to contemplate what the Imperials might be doing to him. Shipping the Wookiee off to some slave-labour camp probably. And this time there would be no Han Solo to rescue him .
Tears snuck out from beneath her closed lids. No Han Solo to rescue Chewie, no Han Solo to rescue her, and she seriously doubted Luke would be racing in any time soon.
The shock of finding out that Darth Vader was Luke's father had rendered Leia speechless. She remembered the wave of revulsion she had felt, and the awareness of it being expressed all over her face by the look of bitter self-loathing on Luke's, but shehad been powerless to stop it. And while the saner part of her could understand how horrific the revelation must have been for Luke, her own overwhelming pain had left her unable to cope with the blow.
Chewbacca had dragged her back from the brink of insanity by demanding her help with shutting down the ship, and Leia had responded immediately. This was something she could do; something she could comprehend. Then Calrissian and Chewbacca had gone to the trouble of disabling the droids and hiding them in one of the smuggling compartments before the Falcon settled into the docking bay the Super Star Destroyer was dragging it into. It had disturbed Leia at the time, not because she thought hiding the droids was a silly thing to do, but because it had left her alone in the cockpit with Luke. Vader's son.
Appalled with herself, yet still unable to speak to him, Leia wondered how Luke had suddenly gone from being her friend, someone she had loved and trusted for almost three years, to Vader's son?
Leia sat up, wiped her hands across her face and wished she could wipe away the last forty hours. Wished she was still on the Falcon with Han. Thinking about him had tears springing behind her closed lids, and Leia pressed her fingers against her eyes in an attempt to stop them. But all she could see was Han's face as he was lowered into the carbonite pit, his eyes telling her how much he loved her and how afraid he was. Not for himself; for her, and her chest ached so much it hurt.
Everything I touch, everything I love dies.
Despite her efforts to the contrary, Leia sobbed. She hid her face further behind her hands, aware that she was undoubtedly under surveillance and angry with herself for showing weakness. The memory of the invasive surveillance she and Han had suffered on Bespin washed over her. The lustful, sneering looks from the Imperial officers. It exacerbated her despair, and she could feel her body trembling as she struggled to squash her emotions.
She wanted to scream. Wanted to rage. Wanted to lash out at those responsible. She wanted to kill Vader for taking everything she cared about and destroying it in the most violent way possible. Alderaan, her home, her family, her life. Leia knew Vader was not responsible for the Empire, but she was too distressed to think rationally. He had become the focus of the Empire for her and, as a result, the reason why she was a Rebel. And now he had taken not just Han and Chewie from her, but Luke as well.
Abruptly Leia's distress and outrage reached flash point, ripping a scream from the depths of her soul as she threw herself against the door. Not in any attempt to escape, but to overwhelm the pain in her soul with physical pain while she screamed herself hoarse.
Finally spent, she slid trembling to the floor, wishing desperately for the numbness that had overwhelmed her after Alderaan's destruction.
….
Vader felt her. Felt her dark rage like a palpable force and moved to the screen that displayed the Princess' cell, awed by the potential she represented. The young woman was a hair's breadth away from using the Force. Using the Dark side of the Force. Her unbound anger would make her formidable.
His Master would see her as a threat, without question. Would insist upon her immediate termination. By his rules there could only ever be two Sith; a Master and an Apprentice. But Vader had decided to change that rule.
The Dark Lord of the Sith had lost faith in his Master with the destruction of Alderaan, and he was well aware of Palpatine's intentions for his son. The Emperor wanted Luke dead, without a doubt, but if Palpatine could replace his current Dark Lord with a new one; one that wasn't bound by the constrictions of a life-support suit, Vader had no doubt at all that Palpatine would do so.
Vader, of course, had his own agenda for his son, which he supposed his Master suspected too. It was the way of the Sith; for the Apprentice to kill the Master and take on an Apprentice of his own, and Vader intended to have Luke as his Apprentice. But the Princess of Alderaan was a wild card none of them had foreseen.
Could he take on two Apprentices and survive? Vader felt certain that he and his son working in unison would be unbreakable; butwould the girl sour that? Would she come between father and son in a way that would render his plan unworkable? It was possible. Yet he sensed that if he turned the girl, his son would swiftly follow. Her presence would certainly curtail any more suicide attempts from Luke, and there was a distinct possibility that she would bind the three of them more adroitly than he and Luke could ever be alone.
With her, Vader sensed, his usurping of Palpatine was a certainty, without her it was only a possibility.
How could Organa have spawned such a child?
He turned to the screen that showed his son, knew that he had felt her as well, and decided it was time to talk to him. Soon they would be on Coruscant and the game would become deadly.
…..
Luke was in pain. Everywhere. His head ached, the arm from which his hand had been severed was throbbing and the abrasions and contusions all over his body reminded him of their existence every time he moved. But it was the chipped and broken bones that really hurt. The pain-killer that Leia had given him had worn off several hours ago and, it seemed, the Imperials were in no hurry to top it up. They didn't want him comfortable. They wanted him incapacitated and controllable.
They had him under twenty-hour guard in a private section of the medcentre, and Luke wondered when Vader would make his appearance. He had expected to find the Dark Lord waiting for him when they were dragged off the Falcon, but hadn't seen Vader since boarding the Super Star Destroyer. He knew Vader was there, was as aware of Vader's presence as he knew Vader was of his, and couldn't help wondering what the Sith Lord was waiting for.
He was half asleep when he felt Leia's rage touch him like cold spectre, and the implications rendered him speechless. He had suspected her Force sensitivity for several years now and, when he had finally broached the subject on Hoth, had been met with a mixture of hostility and humour. Leia did not want to know.
Luke knew what the Dark Side felt like. Yoda's teaching there had left an indelible impression, and Vader's presence was a constant reminder. To feel a wave of it from the princess was almost heartbreaking, and Luke couldn't stop himself from crying out, physically and mentally, "Leia, no!" But he knew she hadn't heard. She was far too deep in her own misery to hear him.
But he knew Vader had felt her, was drawn to the darkness in her like a sandworm to vibrations in the sand. And, like the sandworms of Tatooine, he moved with a singular purpose: to feed. But unlike the sandworms that had been contained to one sector of his home planet by a man-made mountain range, Darth Vader was free to feed on the galaxy.
Darth Vader, his father.
Luke grimaced, grieving the loss of the father he had imagined all his life. The father Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had told him about: the freighter captain. It was the freighter captain who had inspired Luke to hone his piloting abilities, and becoming a freighter captain himself had always been an attainable goal. The father Kenobi had invoked in his imagination was of another calibre entirely. Anakin Skywalker the Jedi Knight. The Jedi Knight, Kenobi had told him, had been betrayed and murdered by Darth Vader.
Suddenly the father of his imagination had been thrown into an entirely different theatre. One of galactic peace-keeper and warrior. And Kenobi had woken the same abilities in him; had helped him touch the Force. From that moment there was no turning back. Luke had made learning as much as he could about the Force and the Jedi Knights his new goal, and had spent the last three years wielding the only hard evidence he had of the man who had sired him: his father's he had lost, along with his innocence, on Bespin. Ironic that it was his father who had parted him from it.
He felt the Dark Lord approach the medcentre and closed his eyes in resignation, Yoda's prophetic words echoing in his mind: "You will destroy all for which they have fought and suffered." How could he have been so stupid? So arrogant? And why hadn't Yoda and Ben told him?
Luke heard the telltale rasp of the respirator as Darth Vader entered the medcentre. Listened while the Dark Lord dismissed the troopers standing just inside the door as he stepped into the small room, and then the door hissed shut. Luke felt his father deactivate all the surveillance devices in the room with a thought, and opened his eyes to regard the dark figure at the end of his bed. He sensed they were each waiting for the other to break the silence.
Not one to mince words or waste time, Vader said, "You felt her."
Luke nodded. There was no point denying the fact.
"How long have you known?" the Dark Lord asked.
"I've suspected her for a while now," Luke replied flatly.
"But you haven't taught her anything?"
"She…" Luke considered Leia's reaction to his suggestion that she might have been the cause of Han's miraculous recovery after the cave-in on Hoth. That the princess had somehow used the Force to save the Corellian's life. "She didn't want to know," he said.
Luke felt Vader subtly probe the surface thoughts and emotions in his mind, seeking a quick answer, and didn't have the energy to block him.
"She fears it," Vader observed, and Luke sensed the Dark Lord's inability to comprehend Leia's lack of power lust.
"She fears what she may become," Luke clarified, knowing he did not have to voice his thought, …a Sith Lord like you.
Vader paced away to one corner of the small room, then turned to look back at him, his hands clasped casually behind his back. "And you?"
"I will not join you."
"Yet you accept the truth that I am your father."
Luke looked away; sickened afresh at the prospect of accepting the figure at the end of his bed as the person he had longed to emulate all his life. He sensed Vader touch his mind again and felt his face redden with embarrassment and a sudden flush of anger.
"No," he said crossly. "I accept that Anakin Skywalker was my father."
Vader stiffened slightly then said, "That name no longer holds any meaning for me."
"Then you are not my father," Luke snapped.
Vader seemed to consider this for a moment then he said quietly, "They tried to kill you when I turned. Do you remember? You were about two…"
"What?" Luke asked, frowning. "Who?" Who would kill a two-year-old?
"The Jedi," Vader replied. "They sensed your potential and labelled you too dangerous."
Luke's eyes narrowed and he tentatively tested the Dark Lord for suspected falsehood. And met with resistance. Then abruptly an image came to him. An image of a woman with long, dark hair holding the lightsabre he had lost on Bespin. His father's lightsabre.
"Your mother revived you," Vader said quietly.
Luke concentrated and, using the Force, explored the image further. Was it a true memory, or something Vader had just put there? It felt true. And the woman certainly looked like the one in the holo he'd kept in his bedroom on Tatooine. The holo Aunt Beru had given him when he was seven.
In the vision, he was looking at the woman from an angle that suggested someone was holding him. Someone wearing black gloves…
Luke withdrew from the vision and looked at the black spectre at the end of his bed. "You were there," he said.
"I sensed your… distress," Vader admitted, but Luke got the definite feeling from the Dark Lord that he meant 'death'.
"They killed me?"
"Your mother revived you," Vader repeated.
The Jedi had killed him? They'd considered an infant that dangerous? Luke shifted uncomfortably as he considered this new information. Just what did they think him capable of, he wondered, then looked at the answer standing at the end of his bed. Much anger in him; like his father, Yoda had said in his initial protests against training Luke. Was Yoda right? Was he destined to repeat his father's mistakes?
Luke closed his eyes and berated himself; I should never have left Dagobah. He focussed on the various pains in his body for a moment, using it to distract himself from the pain of failure and betrayal. Ben, why didn't you tell me?!
"He didn't teach you self-healing, did he?"
Luke opened his eyes, startled by the nearness of Vader's voice, and found himself looking directly into the visor of the Dark Lord's helmet. Was even more shocked to realise he could see the man's eyes. They appeared to be blue, like his own.
Luke shook his head, unable to answer Vader's question, and felt a wave of anger from the Dark Lord as he stalked back to the other side of the room.
"Made sure they taught you all the warrior skills," he growled scathingly. "Turned you into a guided missile and pointed you at me."
With a shock, Luke realised Vader was right. That was exactly what Yoda and Kenobi had done. Trained him with the express idea of using him to kill Vader. Using him to correct their mistake. He betrayed and murdered your father… Luke felt a surge of anger flush through him at how well he had been manipulated. Of course they hadn't told him Vader was his father! He might not have been such a puppet if they had!
Vader's hand encompassed his face and Luke was surprised to realise he no longer feared the man. He felt the pain in his body lessen, knew that his father had somehow used the Force to help him, and couldn't help wondering what catastrophe had forced him into the suit.
"I am not healing you," Vader told him. "Just lessening your pain. I can't risk you trying to escape or kill yourself."
It was a reprimand of sorts, and Luke accepted it. He was grateful to feel a little more comfortable and the lessening of pain made him able to think a little more clearly. It made him wonder why Vader did not use the Force to heal himself. In his limited experience, Luke had always thought of the Dark Side as being more selfish, yet Vader obviously had the ability to help others.
Exploring this new insight, Luke came to the surprised conclusion that the man before him was not evil. Dark, yes. Savagely efficient, yes. But not evil.
"What made you turn?" he asked.
It took so long for the Dark Lord to answer that Luke thought he was going to avoid the question all together.
Finally he removed his hand from Luke's face and replied simply, "You don't know the power of the Dark Side."
"Easier, more seductive," Luke said, quoting Yoda, then risked baiting the man further by adding, "There's still good in you; I can feel it."
Vader regarded him sharply and Luke sensed the Sith Lord was glaring at him, despite the fact that he couldn't see the man's eyes from this angle. He felt a spike of anger from Vader, which faded as quickly as it had come.
"It is too late for me, my son," Vader said quietly.
"I will not join you," Luke told him, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. "I will not turn, and you'll be forced to kill me."
"Perhaps," Vader agreed without looking at him. "Or the Emperor will." He paused in the act of opening the door and looked back at Luke. "The Emperor must not find out about the princess. He will kill her without question."
"What are you going to do with her?" Luke asked, terrified of the answer.
"Teach her how to conceal herself," Vader replied, and opened the door.
Luke watched the door shut as the Dark Lord left the room and wondered how receptive the princess would be.
….
Leia looked up apprehensively as the door to her cell slid open. Her anger had subsided somewhat but her irritation levels were at their peak. Her menses had started on Cloud City, but now it had stopped again, probably due to the stress of waiting to be tortured. Leia wished it would simply come and be done with. Not that she had any way of dealing with it here. That thought left her even more affronted and, despite the personal nature of her complaint, Leia had decided that the next officer through her cell door would cop her full ire. When Vader stepped into the cell she hastily reassessed her decision.
"I am not here to torture you, Princess," the Dark Lord assured her matter-of-factly.
"Really?" Leia snapped defensively. "Then what do you want?" She folded her arms across her chest and suggested sarcastically, "Here to regale me with your scintillating conversation?"
"We are one day away from Coruscant," Vader explained. "I want to show you how to protect yourself."
Leia regarded him with disdain. "From what?" What could be worse than you?
"From the Emperor."
"Why?"
"You have the Force, Leia Organa. As soon as he senses this he will kill you."
Senses? The Emperor was Force sensitive? That explained a lot, but why Vader would want to protect her from him was a mystery.
"What have you done to Luke?" she demanded.
"He is in the Medcentre."
"And Chewie?"
"You care about the Wookiee?"
"Yes, I care about the Wookiee!" she snapped. "I care about a lot of things which I'm sure you could never comprehend."
"The Wookiee has been assigned to a position where his talents will be most useful," Vader said.
"Slave labour," Leia said scathingly. "Why not just execute us and be done with it?"
"Executing a potentially valuable resource is short-sighted and foolish. I can assure you, Princess, I am neither."
Leia felt a deep wave of loathing flood through her. This was the monster who had tortured her on the Death Star, who had made her watch while Tarkin destroyed Alderaan, who had used Han as a test subject in the carbon freeze on Bespin. Leia fanned her hatred and glared at the Dark Lord.
"No!" Vader said sharply. "That is like illuminating yourself as a Sith Lord." Leia took a step back, horrified, and the Dark Lord pressed his point. "To hide yourself from the Emperor you must feel nothing."
Nothing? She wondered, and then it came to her, Like after Alderaan… Oh, how she wished she could reach that state of not feeling! Had been struggling to reach it since everything had gone to hell on Cloud City. But opening herself emotionally to Han had put a crack in the shields Leia Organa had built around her feelings. And like oxygen through a puncture in a vacuum suit, her emotions seemed to be enlarging the fissure as they escaped.
Vader's demand enraged her. How could she feel nothing when the cause of all her distress was standing in front of her? How could she feel nothing when Han had been reduced to a block of organic metal and was being delivered to Jabba the Hutt? Thinking about Solo smothered her rage with a thick blanket of depression and made Leia's lip tremble, forcing her to bite the inside of her lip to still it. She turned away from the Dark Lord; afraid he would see the tears in her eyes.
"Draw it in, Princess," she heard him say. "Draw it in and hold it tight. Cherish the pain and use it to make yourself stronger. Harder. Unbreakable."
Yes, Leia told herself, desperately trying to revive the person she had been on Hoth. Like ice. The Ice Princess. Cold, hard and unbreakable. And currently brittle enough to shatter into a million pieces, the unhelpful part of her mind told her.
A flare of anger lit in her again, but this time it was directed at herself, and was as cold and hard as the rest of her emotions.
"You have exceptional control, Princess," Vader told her and she glared at him, her eyes full of cold hate.
"Exceptional," Vader said again, then left her alone in the cell.