I haven't updated in months (sorry!) so here's a brief reminder of what's happened: Luke's drastic actions saved his father's life. After a stay as a prisoner of the Alliance, Palpatine wants him back, and father and son are separated. That's too hard for Luke to bear so (with Vader's influence) he convinces Alliance Command that Vader will turn and to let him go with Vader. Adventures ensue on Planet Sith where Anakin is the ruler and Luke is his heir. Planet Sith is an intelligent entity that forms a symbiosis with the Skywalker clan. It has never forgiven Anakin for leaving the planet and unleashing its Darkness, causing him to become Darth Vader. However, while on Sith, he's physically back to being Anakin Skywalker because Sith is a mystical, magical place. From the day of their birth, every Skywalker has had a Lightshiner to balance their Light/Dark. Luke finally met his companion, Laark Lightshiner, who became his friend and told Luke how important it was that he stay on Sith and not abandon them like his father did. Luke passes his Trial and bonds deeply with Planet Sith, which causes Anakin some jealousy and resentment. But he overcomes his annoyances because he loves his son (even though he has no idea who Luke's mother was) (no Padmé in this AU). In this chapter, Luke and Laark have returned to the Rebel Alliance base to begin the plot to overthrow Palpatine. However, Luke's friends find that he has changed; he's confident to the point of arrogance, not the sweet boy they remember. (Note: Han, Leia and Chewie know that Luke's father is Vader.)
# # #
"Not that one! That one!" Han bellowed from under the Falcon.
Chewbacca threw the torch aside with a snarl. Han would never make up his mind, and he was tired of acting as mechanic for this useless equipment. Solo should have never bought this new scanner from Jabba. Fool, Han sometimes was, hoping to ingratiate himself with the Hutt. He'd paid the debt; he should have left it at that. But, no, not Han-o. He'd bought - bought! - gear for the Falcon from that scoundrel. And now they were paying for it again, in hours of labor and repair. Foolish, foolish Han. He would tell him so, but what was the point? No one was as stubborn as his Han-o.
"What are you doing?" Han's head appeared at the top of the ladder. "Taking a nap?"
Chewie snarled. *I try to restore that worthless device which you have inflicted upon us. If you do not approve, get yourself another first mate! I am done with your folly!*
"All right, all right, calm down. Why don't we break for a meal? Maybe that'll put you in a better frame of mind."
*Meal will be good for the stomach. Only less foolishness from you will alter my state of mind.* He descended the ladder after his unpredictable human friend. Han would never change. But, then, humans rarely did.
A signal horn warned of an incoming ship. Turning to the sound, Chewie saw a small figure running across the bay toward them. *Wedge,* he pointed out to Han. Han stopped.
"Did you hear?" Wedge called when he was within shouting distance. He waved wildly, pointing behind him.
"Hear what?"
"It's Luke! Luke - he's back!"
Chewie turned his head and studied the vehicle that approached. It was an alien shuttle, a type he'd never seen, but beautifully crafted with wings like a delicate bird. It made a perfect landing - he would have recognized the Young One's light touch even if he hadn't known the identity of the pilot.
Han let out a whoop and raced across the bay, Chewie following at an only slightly more sedate pace. Han had missed the pup more than Chewie had thought he would. There was friendship between them, but it held something else. A fine father Han would make one day; he needed children of his own to guide, instead of experimenting on the Young One. Still, both of them had seemed to benefit from the relationship.
The ramp lowered slowly, too slowly for the impatient Han. Eventually feet appeared. Chewie watched in fascination as a long black cloak - Vader, he thought instinctively - glided down the ramp. It swayed with its owner's commanding stride. Not the Young One, surely it was Vader - but no! Beneath that mysterious hood, was that their little Luke?
A second man appeared, similarly cloaked and hidden, but dressed in warm brown, the color of Wookiee younglings. Then the first man pushed his hood off his head and revealed a smiling face. Was this Luke Skywalker?
Chewie gawked. Yes...and no. This man - not a boy any longer - this man was young but his eyes were old with wisdom, older than any Wookiee Chewie had known, and his bearing was more imperial than the Spunky One's had ever been. This man was made of precious metals, platinum and gold, and he glowed even more than when they'd met him on Tatooine. His hair was long, a full year's worth of growth caressing his shoulders. And his face had changed in a way Chewie knew was most pleasing to humans - smoother? No, they called it handsome. Strong jaw. Firm mouth. The exotic blue of the eyes was still the same, but now they were full of the radiance of stars. Strangest of all the changes was an aura of power, limitless and forbidding, like nothing he'd ever felt. It seemed to fill the huge hangar bay. Chewie shivered.
"Luke?" Han's voice wavered. He took a few steps forward. "Is that you?"
"In the flesh." At least the voice was the same.
Chewie relaxed and moved ahead. With surprising agility, the stranger placed himself between Luke and his friends, one hand reaching under the cloak. For a weapon? Luke made a small gesture, and the man calmed. But he remained watchful, hovering at Luke's left shoulder like a guardian angel of legend.
Luke opened his arms and briefly embraced first Han, then Chewie and Wedge. "It's great to see all of you again." He waved to other pilots who hovered just out of speaking distance, strangers most of them. Too many young pilots had died in the last months.
The youthful exuberance was gone, Chewie noted with sadness. But Luke didn't look unhappy, only remote. *Welcome back, pup. We have missed you.*
"Thanks." Luke smiled, but no similar sentiment was expressed; Chewie knew the pup had rarely thought of them. Still, that was good. It was a sign of maturity. "This is my companion, Laark Lightshiner. Laark, this is Han Solo, Captain of the Millennium Falcon as well as captain - oh, general now - congratulations! - in the Rebel Alliance. His First Mate, Chewbacca of Kashyyk. And Commander Wedge Antilles of Corellia."
"Pleased to meet you," Wedge said with his usual politeness. "Are you joining the Alliance? We can always use another recruit."
Lightshiner's young face was unreadable. He pushed back his hood to reveal gold-flecked brown hair, burnished skin, and a pleasing countenance. "I serve my lord," he replied stiffly. "That is my function."
"Laark," Luke said in an aggravated tone.
"Well, it is!" For a moment, something warm sparkled from under the formal demeanor.
Chewie wondered if the boy was Luke's friend or a servant. Or both. Uncommonly pale grey eyes turned his way. "I am my lord's Lightshiner," the Bronze One said in an explanatory tone.
Chewie nodded, hiding his surprise. The boy had read his mind. He felt Han shift uneasily and knew that his friend understood what had transpired. "So." Han rocked on his heels. "Chewie and me were just going to grab something to eat. Why don't you join us?"
"I really should report in."
"Nah, then you'll be stuck forever. There's plenty of time for the Council. They're having one of their piss-and-moan sessions today. Wait until later and give them a little good news." He grabbed Luke's arm to lead him. The Bronze One stiffened and knocked away the Corellian's hand. Han glared at him. "Back off, junior."
From nowhere, a lightsaber appeared and was ignited. "Laark!" Luke hissed. "Put that away!"
Lightsaber? Another Jedi? Chewie's eyes widened. Oh, Luke would have many stories to tell.
"Master Luke, Master Luke, oh, thank the Maker you're safe!" As fast as his stiff legs could move him, Threepio came barreling toward them, followed by an excitedly beeping Artoo.
The Bronze One remained alert, saber brandished menacingly, his face an expressionless mask.
"I won't tell you again, Laark."
The cool command reached the boy. After a moment's reluctance, he extinguished the saber and replaced it under his cloak. The youngster pouted. Chewie had seen that same expression on Skywalker's face; it evoked fond memories.
"Hi, Threepio, Artoo. You're both looking well." Luke smiled and patted Artoo's dome with more affection than he'd displayed for the humans. "We'll be happy to join all of you for lunch. If you'll excuse us for just a moment first." With a fixed smile, Luke grabbed young Lightshiner's arm and dragged him into the shadows below the shuttle.
Chewie couldn't hear the words, but the gist was clear. The Bronze One was being instructed in appropriate behavior. He hoped Luke was not too harsh with the boy; obviously, he was a Guardian and not familiar with their customs. Where was he from? Was he a Sith, too? - though Chewie was not certain if he believed Luke's claim to be Sith. Since the pup had been gone, he'd done much research and found little more than myths and fables. If such a place existed, it was well hidden. Still, he knew Luke would explain everything to them.
When the two young men rejoined them, Chewie growled softly and put his hand on Luke's shoulder. This time the Guardian did not object, and they headed for the canteen.
# # #
Han delivered a tray of beverages to the table and sat down. "So where were you?" he asked, struggling to remain cool despite this rush of anger he felt over the treatment he'd received from that punk Lightshiner - disrespect that Luke had tolerated.
Luke hesitated, though the question could not have been unexpected. He slid a sideways glance at Wedge. "Sith." He watched Wedge as he spoke.
The younger Corellian laughed uneasily. "That bad, huh?"
Luke shook his head. "No. That's where I was. Sith. The planet Sith."
"I don't understand."
"Join the party," Han interjected sarcastically. "So you spent a year on that planet of paradise? Terrific. Learn anything, sport?"
Lightshiner whispered something in Luke's ear, and his friend nodded. Then Laark sniffed and folded his arms, glaring at Han with open dislike.
*It has been a difficult year for the Rebellion,* Chewie explained anxiously. *Your - Lord Vader led the Imperial troops to victory after victory. Many lives were lost - many people you will not see again.*
"I'm sorry to hear that," Luke answered, not sounding sorry at all. "There was nothing I could do."
"Mothma thinks differently," Han retorted tightly. "After you left, bad luck seemed to dog us. She believes in that Force crap of yours." And there had been moments when he believed it too - believed in Luke, believed that a young Jedi had been sent to rescue them. But Luke had deserted them, and hell had filled his empty place.
Luke patted Lightshiner's arm as if to quiet an angry pet. "I'm glad to see the three of you are still all right. How's Leia?"
He resented that Sith brat or whatever he was. Apparently he could communicate telepathically with Luke - and what he was saying wasn't complimentary to the Rebels. "Good enough," he said shortly, because Leia was none of Luke's damn business. "And another thing, why the hell was Vader leading the Imperials? I thought he went with you."
"With Luke?" Wedge interrupted, totally bewildered. "Why would Vader go with Luke?"
Han bit his lip and stared fixedly at the ceiling. He hadn't meant to mention Luke's parentage - but now that he had, how would Luke weasel out of it?
"He...came after me." Luke looked down at his entwined fingers. It wouldn't take a genius to see that Antilles was being cut out of the conversation, and Wedge was quick.
Wedge took several deep breaths, looking around the table at the others who remained silent. Color rushed into his face. Then he stood. "I see. Well, I have to...get to work. Excuse me. Good to have you back, Luke. And to have met you." He inclined his head toward the other Sith.
Regret was plain on Luke's face, and it pleased Han that something could break through that aloof air. The younger man turned back to him. "Lord Vader was with me."
"He commanded the Imperial troops - "
"- telepathically," Luke finished. "From Sith."
The information didn't faze Han. "And you let him."
"For awhile, I didn't know. When I found out, there wasn't anything I could do to stop him. He is responsible, after all, to the Emperor."
He liked nothing about the boy's manner. There was too much self-assurance, damn near arrogance. Too much like Vader. "Just how hard did you try to stop him? Not at all? And why should you. Corellians have a saying: Blood will tell. Well, I guess your blood finally caught up with you. Tell me one thing - why did you bother to come back here?" His glare was torn between Luke and Lightshiner, who appeared to be endlessly whispering in Luke's ear.
"I promised I would. Han…."
"Worthless promises we don't need. We've had plenty." Han pushed back his chair and stood. A beverage container toppled with the force of his movement, spilling clear liquid across the table. This Luke was truly a Vader. This Luke would lie to get what he wanted; he could feel the difference, the power, and it both frightened and infuriated him. "Why don't you go back where you came from - Sith!" He spat out the word, turning it into the vile curse that it was.
Filled with bitter disappointment, he strode from the canteen. This wasn't his friend. He didn't know how he knew - but he could feel it.
# # #
Luke stared at the spreading pool of juice, listening to the sound of hard, angry footsteps pounding away. His father had warned him that he would no longer fit Outside. He was Sith now; his former friends would not accept that - or him.
*Try to forgive Han,* Chewie said. *We lost many friends - most of your old squad. And Leia was injured.*
He looked up quickly. "Is she all right?"
*She is recovered, but she is not the same. Much anger in her. I fear she blames you, too, for the change in fate.*
"But you don't?"
*I am more sensible than these pups. If your actions were responsible, I know it was not malicious on your part but rather the result of Fate itself.*
He wondered if the change was because of him or was it just part of Sith's plan? He suspected the latter. He leaned back, resting against Laark's shoulder. His Lightshiner still whispered nonsense to him, that constant comfort he offered when times were difficult. Luke closed his eyes.
*Will you stay after you've seen the Council?*
"Yes." He didn't offer further explanation. The plans with his father were too daring, too tightly woven to risk unraveling by the Rebels. He would tell the Council nothing of their true plans to govern the galaxy; in view of what had happened in his absence, they would have no reason to trust him anyway. He would tell them only enough to intrigue them with his mysterious powers and give them a promise of victory in the future.
*Do you wish me to leave now?*
He gathered his thoughts and opened his eyes. "No. I'm sorry, Chewie. I don't know what I was expecting, but it never occurred to me that Han would feel - would be angry. I'd hoped he and everyone else would be glad to see me again."
*He is glad. When he heard you arrived, he was excited. I think he is jealous that you have a new friend. Afraid, maybe, that you will no longer need friendship with him. Angry that you return looking better than before, unscathed.*
"He wanted me to be hurt?"
*To be disillusioned. He fears this birthright of yours.* Chewie blinked a few times. *Is it true? You are Sith?*
"It's true."
*And did you find what you needed?*
You found your Lightshiner! Laark transmitted proudly. What more do you need?
Luke smiled. Enough, Lightshiner! "I found many things. Things I'd never dreamed existed. Mostly I found knowledge."
You talk too much, Lord. Wrap it up.
"And now I must see the Council. Chewie, did Leia tell them about my father?"
*No. She and Han-o talked about it, decided to respect your wishes. She is not as unyielding as you think, pup.*
He accepted the gentle chastising with more grace than Laark did. His Lightshiner bristled and frowned. "I'm glad to hear that. Because I want to tell the Council the truth." The Truth According to Skywalker. Gently, he insinuated his will into Chewie's mind and traveled back to the day he had told his friends about his father. With a feathery-light touch, he eradicated that knowledge from the Wookiee's mind. The amazement he still felt when he used his new powers held only perfunctory regret.
Chewie leaned back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head. *I wish I could be an oomvarc on the wall when you tell them -* Chewie hesitated. *What is it you will tell them?*
Luke smiled. "I'll tell them I'm a Sith and that I've come into my powers. I'm going to use those powers for the benefit of the Alliance."
*Yes,* the Wookiee agreed vaguely. *Good luck, Young One. And luck to you, Guardian.*
"Thank you, Sir Chewbacca from Kashyyk." Laark smiled his approval. "I am pleased to have made your acquaintance." He may be a strange-looking creature, but he's much nicer than the others.
Luke stood, Laark rising up behind him like his shadow. He clasped Chewie's hand briefly, then they left the canteen. There were few people here he recognized and even fewer as they travelled the corridors of this makeshift building. One young man caught his attention. Their eyes met, and Luke recognized him - though how he could never explain - as a fellow Sith. The pilot inclined his head, and Luke understood it was obeisance to the future Great Lord of Sith.
See? Laark whispered in his head. I told you they would recognize you! And you picked him out right away - you're finally getting smarter, Lord!
Thanks so much.
He wondered if Leia would be at the Council meeting. His heart beat a little faster at the prospect of seeing her after so long.
She is the one with whom you wish to bond?
No! She's not - Must you listen to everything I think?
Of course! Otherwise I might not hear wonderful praises of me!
Luke groaned and tried to clear his mind. It was impossible. If you're going to keep this up, I won't let you come before the Council with me.
I'll still hear you.
HEAR me, fine. Just quit talking!
There was an immediate silence in his head. He snuck a glance at Laark. There was a pout on the delicate features, but it was definitely an artificial one. Stifling a grin, Luke halted in front of the small chamber where he sensed the Council in session. Two armed guards studied them.
"We will see the Council now," he intoned firmly. "Admit us."
The soldiers were not particularly weak-minded men, but his powers had increased a hundredfold since Obi-Wan had taught him. He wondered if he could make everyone do his will. Unthinkingly, he waited for Laark's affirmation, taken aback when he didn't hear it.
His mind trembled with the small shock. I meant don't talk while I'm talking to the Council. That's all. Don't be angry.
Laark made an indignant noise in his throat. The guards opened the set of doors, and they stepped inside. He was ready with the plan he'd rehearsed with his father, ready with the story that held as much truth as they dared tell. It would require only his skills in Force persuasion to maneuver the Alliance and Empire conflict to a head. Then they would destroy Palpatine and, with him, the Darkside's freedom.
Circling an oval table sat a trio of familiar figures: Mothma, Rieekan, and Leia. A fourth man, a stranger in the uniform of a general, was at Leia's side. Without hesitation, Luke delved into the man's mind, dredging out all the information he needed. Crix Madine, Corellian, ex-Imperial, no living family. Covert Operations - a former spy. Didn't want to sit on the Council, but Mothma had insisted, resulting in Madine holding a deeply-buried feeling of resentment against the Alliance leader. He would trust no one and nothing.
Enough. Luke shared the information with Laark, then cut off the contact. They approached the table, and four pairs of eyes focused on them, their expressions uniformly puzzled and alarmed. He sent a message: Leia! Her brown eyes widened, and she rose to her feet. "Luke!"
By that word, she identified him to the others; he knew they had not recognized him, changed as he was. "Leia." He smiled at her, touching her mind. She was pleased to see him, relieved, but underneath was a great sadness, a repressed rage. He felt a twinge of conscience, but put it aside and turned to the others. Later there would be time for Leia.
"Mon Mothma." He bowed to her, gave Rieekan a genuine smile, and sent a polite nod to Madine.
"Command - Jedi Skywalker. You have returned."
Oooh, isn't she the observant one? Please tell me this isn't the Alliance's revered leader!
His lips twitched. Laark-
Oops, sorry. I'll be quiet.
He would believe it when he heard it - or rather, didn't hear it. "Yes, ma'am. This is my companion, Laark Lightshiner."
"I am honored," Laark said with a straight face and an elegant bow.
She nodded at him and gestured to the table. "And this is General Madine. Please join us. We are interested in hearing your report."
What report? She wants a report on your vacation?
Laark!
Luke smiled gravely. "I understand that the tide of war has turned against the Alliance."
Rieekan leaned back in his chair. "Yes. We've been very unlucky. The Empire seems to know where we are, no matter how often we move our base. Even in space, we're not safe. They dog our every movement. Particularly Vader."
There was a significant pause. "Evidently your attempts to convert him were totally unsuccessful," Mothma finally said. "He was not left with a modicum of sympathy for our cause."
"Did you think he would be?" Madine asked sharply. He fixed his stare on Luke. "I heard about your Jedi beliefs and what you thought you could achieve with Vader. Had I been your commander, I would not have allowed it. All you accomplished was to give Vader access to our base, our plans and, apparently, some kind of knowledge of our thoughts."
"Harsh words, General," Rieekan said reprovingly. "And undeserved. Jedi Skywalker has the most sincere of motives."
"You put too much faith in your Jedi - or whatever he is." The unsympathetic gaze strafed Luke. "I knew Jedi twenty-five years ago. This one doesn't have the eyes of a Jedi. Perhaps he's a sorcerer, in league with Vader."
Perceptive, Laark noted unhelpfully.
"That's enough, General Madine," Mothma said. "Forgive this rude greeting, Jedi. Please tell us what you have been doing and if you intend to remain with us. We tried to contact you on Tatooine, but were unsuccessful."
She's got the hots for you.
LAARK!
Like father, like son! That's why she keeps saying the J-word!
Luke cleared his throat, trying to banish the picture of Mothma panting after him or Anakin. "I was not on Tatooine, ma'am. And General Madine is not far afield in his assessment of me. I am not a native of Tatooine, I am a Sith. A sorcerer, perhaps, but that is only a word. I am a Jedi by choice and the son of a Jedi by birth." The half-truths flowed easily from his lips. He was a Jedi no longer; his father was right, they were all dead, their faith was meaningless. Sith was the true way. "I spent the last year on Sith, learning about the Force. Learning how to defeat the Emperor."
Hope and dismay warred for superiority on Mothma's serious face. As he expected, hope won. He could say anything now, and she would believe him. He wondered if she'd loved his father. "Defeat Palpatine? How?"
"With my command of the Force and with the assistance of the Alliance, I can overcome the Emperor's sorcery." He folded his hands on the table, concentrating on her and Rieekan. Leia he could control, and Madine didn't have the ear of the others. "The Empire is building another Death Star."
An icy wind seemed to sweep through the room, reminding him of Hoth, lost in the blizzard, Han rescuing him, and then he felt the others' despair follow on the heels of his memories. This was nearly a death-blow for the Rebellion, he could sense it among the leaders. They had had no successes since the destruction of the first Death Star; now that sweet victory was nullified.
Mothma closed her eyes briefly; when she reopened them, they were unfocused and full of desperation. "Another...? "
"Yes, but we can destroy it." He projected his Force voice at them, returning the hope he'd just stolen. "The Death Star is under construction, and soon Palpatine will allow your spies to learn its location. He wishes you to attack because although it appears unfinished, it is fully operational. It is situated in the Endor system, protected by a shield generator located on the Sanctuary Moon. The Alliance must disable that generator and attack the Death Star with all your firepower. While the Emperor is distracted by your relentless attack, I will use my Force powers and defeat him."
"Wait." Rieekan held up one hand. "You're going too fast - where will you be?"
"Wherever the Emperor is - the Death Star or the Executor."
"How are you going to get aboard either of those? And how did you obtain all this information?"
Luke lowered his gaze, willing Leia to remain silent. "I have access."
"Vader," Mothma breathed. "You were successful with Vader!"
He did not reply to the comment. Instead he looked directly into her eyes, demanding her obedience. "Will the Alliance heed our plans?"
"Indeed we will, Jedi Skywalker." Mothma smiled.
"Slow down," Madine interrupted. "I don't like this. Rieekan's correct - this is too fast. We need to think."
Corellians! Are they all so rude?
"Of course," Luke said smoothly, still using Force persuasion. "Please, discuss it among yourselves and advise me. When you agree, I will put my plan in motion." He stood and looked down at Mothma. "You wanted the return of the Jedi. We are here." Behind him, he sensed Laark brushing aside his cloak and displaying his lightsaber, leaving the implication obvious. Beautiful, my Lightshiner! "For the sake of the galaxy, I hope you will accept our help. Ladies. Gentlemen." His nod encompassed them all, then he and Laark swept out of the room.
They would agree and would vote down Madine. Even Leia would trust him, he could feel it although her silence made him wary. The Rebel Alliance, so humbled by Vader's attacks over the last year, so depleted in ranks, would confront the vast Imperial army and navy in a last, desperate stand. That would, necessarily, mean the death of the Alliance, but Palpatine's demise would also destroy the cohesion of the Empire.
No Empire, no Alliance. Nothing would be left but Sith, as it should be.
Yes! Laark's glee-filled thought was broadcast clearly. Your father has taught you well.
Indeed he had. But Sith had taught him more. Luke Skywalker had come a very long way from the naive soldier who believed that the Alliance held the only path to freedom. Now he knew that true freedom was the result of guidance by a benevolent ruler.
And Sith was nothing if not benevolent.