11 months before the Battle of Yavin
Rahm Kota enjoyed war. That wasn't something a Jedi was supposed to do, and for a long time he'd denied it himself. He'd been fighting the Empire for almost twenty years and he'd justified the endless battle by saying that the galaxy needed liberation from a great evil, and all his fallen Jedi comrades needed justice.
These were all true, but even in the Clone Wars Rahm Kota had embraced combat. Rather than wear flimsy Jedi robes and command from behind lines of clone soldiers, he'd put on battle armor, gathered like-minded Republic partisans, and fought in his own way. All for the cause, he'd told himself so many years ago. All for necessity.
But no. Rahm Kota enjoyed war: the thrill, the adrenaline, the feeling you got when facing a life-threating challenge and the soaring sensation when you triumphed. In defeating his foes (and yes, in dealing violence) he found accomplishment and joy. He'd been born on a war-ravaged world and by all rights should hate conflict; instead, perhaps, it had been instilled in him since childhood as the natural order of things. The peace of Coruscant and the Jedi Temple had always felt an aberration to him.
War was an outlet for the anger which had always burned strong within him, even in his apprentice days. Master Yoda had told him to purge that anger and attain some serene inner peace. The best Kota had learned to do was tame it with help from Master Windu, who'd held some of Kota's own proclivity toward rage. Rather than be scorched in its flame, Kota followed Windu's lessons and turned it to kindling, always low and always burning, giving him strength, compelling him to keep fighting even when things looked hopeless. He firmly believed that if he had not made anger this tool, he'd have fallen to Vader's blade long ago.
Peace, Rahm Kota believed, was for dead people. Until the peace of death came for him, he would fight.
Thus, when he received the emergency message from the Rogue Shadow, ensconced in the Furnace of Shenandor Prime, Kota knew exactly what he needed to do. The hard part was convincing the others.
He was aboard the Mon Calamari cruiser Solidarity, en route from Kamino to Dantooine, when the message came, just hours after the first. He'd already relayed to Alliance command the abrupt decision Rogue Shadow had taken and received a barrage of questions in reply. He hadn't been able to give any good answers to Mon Mothma, Garm Bel Iblis, or the Organas. None of them knew that Starkiller was alive and he'd not be the one to tell them; it wasn't his right. But that fact alone explained everything.
The Force was working through Starkiller, moving him to great purpose. Kota didn't know what that purpose was, but he was sure the Force had warned him that Dantooine was not safe, so he'd changed course for the Furnace. His intuition had been correct; were it not for the protecting fires of Shenandor, the Empire would already be on him.
But the leaders of the Alliance understood nothing of the Force. They still clamored for answers, and for this urgent news Kota had no choice but to contact them directly. These kinds of long-range high-level communications were always risky, but this was not the time to bounce around curt messages. This was the moment for action. He prayed Alliance command understood that.
Yet when he explained the situation to the four flickering, life-sized holo-images in Commodore Viedas's borrowed command salon, Kota met the disappointment he'd been expecting.
Mon Mothma's expression was bleak. "By taking Vader to Shenandor Prime, Captain Eclipse put herself in a very hard position. The Furnace would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to evacuate when under fire, even if we send some assistance."
"If?" Garm Bel Iblis said. "We succeeded in capturing Vader. We cannot let him slip away."
Bail Organa replied, "Mon Mothma is correct. The Imperials have sent a full star destroyer. It will be a struggle to engage one of those head-on, especially after the losses we sustained at Kamino."
"Rubbish," Kota interjected. "We knocked out three star destroyers at Kamino. Three."
"We took them by surprise and still suffered heavy losses," Organa said. "There's also no guarantee that the Empire isn't sending more destroyers now. After all, they must know Vader is at Shenandor Prime. They'll spare nothing to get him back."
Though Kota had been robbed of sight at Nar Shaddaa, he'd nonetheless honed the ability to sense his surroundings in the Force as clearly as if he could still see. Indeed, losing sight had made him even more perceptive of how a being felt in the Force. Moods and feelings shifted, but a recognizable signature remained in every individual. He could sense nothing from these holograms he was listening to, but in his mind's eye he could summon Mothma's mournful gaze, Bail's lowered head, and Garm's fierce scowl.
He could also visualize the open pleading on Princess Leia's face as she said, "Whatever reasons Juno Eclipse had for taking Vader to Shenandor, they were the right ones. She's bought us time to salvage this situation. Besides, she was essential to bringing the Alliance about in the first place. We owe her a debt and we can't just turn our backs on her."
She was just a girl, a teenager, but she put so much weight into her words that the tired adults had to consider them. Her father said, "We can't forget Captain Eclipse's contributions, but we ultimately have to look to the future. Sending backup to Shenandor would cost us heavily, and the chance of evacuating Vader is still incredibly slim."
Less slim than they thought. Kota wondered if he should breach Starkiller's return after all. The boy had saved all their lives aboard the Death Star, rescued Leia from Imperials on Kashyyyk and Bail from a mad Jedi on Felucia. He'd even plucked Bel Iblis from the grasp of Mandalorians at Bespin. But he was also supposed to be dead, and news of Starkiller's sudden return would throw a new layer of confusion and doubt into the situation.
"Capturing Vader was an astonishing coup," Bel Iblis said. "We cannot just let the Imperials have him back."
"We are not letting him do anything," Mon Mothma replied. "Consider this. Did we truly capture Darth Vader at Kamino? With all respect to Master Kota's combat skills, I can't believe Vader could be captured alive. Perhaps he let himself be captured, so he could be tracked and lead the Empire to our base on Dantooine."
"In that case, Juno saved the entire Rebellion," Leia said, pleading.
"It also guarantees that any ships which go to Shenador will fall into a trap," Bail said. "It truly pains me to say this, but I'm afraid we must cut our losses."
"What then?" Bel Iblis snorted. "Should we hail Captain Eclipse and kindly tell her to surrender Vader back to the Empire?"
"Of course not," Mon Mothma replied firmly. "If, or when, the Imperials get close to the Furnace, the only choice will be to destroy the facility."
"Agreed," Bail sighed. "It must be either collapsed or flushed into space. We may not be able to interrogate Darth Vader, but we still have him. He must die before he gets back in Imperial hands."
"Even if everyone at the Furnace has to die too." Leia sounded like a sad, scared girl at last.
"In dying, they will still deliver us a great victory," Bail tried to comfort his daughter. "They will be remembered."
"As martyrs," Bel Iblis said, with bitterness and respect.
The chamber was trapped in grim silence. To break it Kota growled, "Is that it, then? Have you decided? Should I get back to Captain Eclipse and tell her to prepare herself for martyrdom?"
"All of us have to make sacrifices," Bel Iblis said. "I've already lost my family, and so many friends. One day, some us might be called to lay down our lives for the cause. I'm prepared to do that if I must. So is Captain Eclipse and everyone at the Furnace."
At that moment Kota almost told them. Yes, this was war and everyone was expendable. Kota himself, despite all he'd lived through, saw himself as expendable.
But Starkiller was not. He firmly believed that. The Force itself had declared it to Kota, first when they'd battled over Nar Shaddaa and again when they'd met in that filthy cantina, and again when Starkiller had returned from death's gate. That man had a destiny and the Force would not let him die until he'd completed it. It was the only way he could have defied the black and final peace over and over again.
But these people would not understand. That was all right, Kota told himself, because he would not give up fighting.
"General Kota," Mon Mothma said, "Please tell Juno Eclipse that Vader is not to return to the Empire under any circumstances."
"I'm sure she knows. Must I tell her that reinforcements are not on their way?"
A grim pause. "Tell her what you think is best," Bel Iblis supplied.
Was that wriggled room to take his own initiative? Perhaps; it would have been like Bel Iblis to do so. Yet it didn't matter. Rahm Kota had decided his course and was determined to follow it, regardless of what the politicians said. Those of his commandos who'd been wounded at Kamino had been shipped off in a medical frigate, but all of his healthy troops were aboard Solidarity, as was their equipment. They were able to fight and they'd be willing.
"I will do as you ask," Kota told them. "Is there anything else?"
Another pause. Bail said, "Not at this time. Thank you, General Kota."
"Yes," said Bel Iblis, "for everything you've done."
Tacit permission? Perhaps. Kota, again, did not care, but such hints might mean something to the being who'd been standing in the black corner of the room. The Jedi listened to the brief static-bursts of four individual holograms flickering off, then turned to face that corner and said, "Didn't I tell you? It went exactly as I said it would."
"So it did," said the Solidarity's flag officer, Commodore Yat-de Viedas. The Rodian's boots clacked softly on the deck as he walked to Kota's side. "Though I don't think you needed Jedi powers to see that coming."
"I understand their reasoning. It's almost certainly a trap. They were probably hoping we'd lead them to our main base at Dantooine."
"Thank Captain Eclipse for that," Viedas sighed.
Kota decided not to correct him. "I understand their reasoning but I don't agree with it, and I won't obey."
"I saw that coming too."
"Do you see my reasoning?"
He listened, felt Viedas think. Though he didn't try to twist the commodore's mind with the Force, Kota pleaded, silently and desperately, for help.
Finally the Rodian said, "I see your reasoning and agree with it. I understand not committing too many forces to Shenandor… but we cannot abandon our people there, or our prize."
Kota grinned. "Be honest, Commodore. Haven't you wanted to see how your new warship would stand going toe-to-toe with an Impstar?"
"It appears I'll be finding out. I will… quietly canvas the other captains under my command. If we can make a larger battle group, we'd be more than a match for that destroyer."
"In which case we'll turn martyrdom into real victory." Kota clapped Viedas on the shoulder. "Glad to have you with us, Commodore. You won't regret it."
"I'd better not. I imagine you have a message to relay to Captain Eclipse."
"I do indeed. I'll get to preparing my people and leave you to yours."
When they left the chamber Viedas went to the bridge, Kota to the hangar where his commandos were gathered around their armored shuttle. Yes, he had a message and not the one Alliance had told him to send. It was short and sweet, and Kota had already composed it in his head:
Stand firm. Help is on the way.
-{}-
Seven words meant a lot. They hoisted Juno's spirit from a pit of despair and stabilized a mind gone wild with panic. But just because Kota was coming didn't meant they were home free yet. No, that was a long way off.
Kota was hours away. The Imperials seemed to be holding at the edge of the system, waiting for either backup or a way to breach the hot zone around Shenandor Prime. For those inside the Furnace the options were to either flee or defend, which meant they had to prepare for both at once.
As ranking officer, it fell to Juno to command preparations. Right now the shieldship was holding position deep within the hot zone, inside the shadow of the planet. Though they couldn't risk running lest they trigger the waiting star destroyer, the Furnace had a ship in each of its three berths. Its largest, central hangar contained a bulky Ghtroc freighter. To the left, Rogue Shadow sat in its nest. The rightmost and smallest hangar held a single Y-wing. They wouldn't be enough to carry all the supplies stores in the Furnace, but together the three ships could carry away the thirty-seven beings currently in the facility, Vader included.
But that only mattered if they were to flee. Those thirty-six Rebels were also preparing to defend. Luckily for them, the Furnace had more than enough small and medium arms in its storage bays. Most of them were high-quality weapons pilfered from Imperial bases, and as she helped pass out stocks of BlastTech E-11 rifles and Merr-Sonn T-21 heavy repeaters Juno felt weird deja vu for her days as Vader's servant.
There was no telling what kind of offensive the Imps would bring if they tried to enter the Furnace, but soldiers began setting up barricades and tripod guns in the broad main hall that ran straight from the hangars to the vast mining shaft. That place was their ultimate failsafe; on Juno's orders, the Furnace's crew began laying charges around the rim of the broad durasteel dome that stretched over the roof of the stone-carved shaft. If the charges blew so would the dome, and the entire facility could be opened up to the airless, irradiated exterior of Shenandor Prime.
It was their last resort, but they had to be prepared to use it. Juno took bleak comfort in the knowledge that if she was to die here, she'd at least take Darth Vader with her.
Once all those preparations were made, however, there was nothing to do except wait until Kota or the Imperials came knocking on their door.
During all the frenzy of preparations Juno had forgotten that there was, technically, a thirty-seventh Rebel who might aid their cause. When everything else was done she decided to check on PROXY, and to take Starkiller with her. As they crossed the Y-bridge over the mining shaft she had to tug him to follow her down the left branch. His eyes and thoughts were still drawn to the right path, at the end of which Darth Vader was sealed.
When they stepped into the shop, Juno was taken aback by the four leaders of the Rebel Alliance standing amidst the confused pile of stray machinery. Mon Mothma, Garm Bel Iblis, Bail Organa, Leia Organa: all of them seemed as real as flesh. In the center of the group, the stout Aleena droid tech Krevkee looked at the newcomers with a prideful grin.
"Am I good or ain't I?" he said.
With a flicker, the four holo-images disappeared. In their places stood not one PROXY-model droid but four. With the shrouds gone it was easy to tell which was the original; the other three all stooped at awkward angles signifying their patchwork status. One had two right hands; another was missing its left arm; the third had a dented cranium, flickering photoreceptors, and a protocol droid's smooth sculpted leg where its right one should have been.
"G-Greetings, Masters," said the real PROXY. "As you can see, my evaluation has been c-completed."
Starkiller crossed his arms and looked at Krevkee. "You can resurrect three whole droids but you can't fix a stutter?"
"Everyone's a critic." The mechanic rolled his eyes.
"This is incredible," Juno said. "Given what's happening I'm not sure it's the best use of your time… but it is incredible."
"Do I look like a footsoldier?" Krevkee shook his head. "I do what I'm good at, Captain."
"What were the results of the evaluation?" asked Starkiller. "Did you figure out what PROXY keeps changing form?"
The Aleena sighed. "Not exactly. There's no physical damage to his core processor, despite all the knock-arounds he's had."
"This is some relief," PROXY said, "Though I d-do wish I'd gotten some firmer answer to m-my dilemma."
"I looked at the processors for these other units," Krevkee added. "These as much less sophisticated devices. I'm guessing, friend, you were designed for extended auto-nomous usage?"
"My mission parameters k-kept me operating for long periods outside Imperial territory in order to execute complex mission parameters, if that's what y-you mean."
"Close enough."
"Does this mean PROXY will still transform randomly?" asked Juno.
"Just because we can't pinpoint the cause doesn't make it random," Krevkee insisted. "With further study and better evaluative equipment I'm sure we'd find it."
"If we survive the coming hours," Juno said severely.
"Well, yes, there's that."
Despite her words, she was glad for the distraction. She was glad for pleasant surprises, since all the other ones she'd had recently were so bad.
Well, not all her recent surprises. Her best one stood beside her.
Starkiller said, "If the issue with PROXY isn't physical, then it has to be something in his software, right? Juno suggested that PROXY's changing shapes were actually him trying to tell himself something subconsciously."
Krevkee made a hesitant, hissing noise. "You might be on to something, but I don't like to slap organic terminology on droids. Their minds work in fundamentally different ways."
"I am aware of that," said PROXY, "but I have b-been considering that point nonetheless. My Masters suggested I c-consider what things the beings I find myself imitating have in common. The idea that first occurred to me is that they all serve higher ideals."
"Our leaders I can understand," said Krevkee. "but you also do a pretty good Vader impressions. How does that fit in?"
"Not all ideals are worth serving," Juno said knowingly.
"I considered that, and it is true to an exttent," said PROXY. "However, I b-believe there may be a deeper c-connection between all these individuals."
"Which is what?" asked Starkiller.
The droid's photoreceptors pulsed slightly. "I believe that all the b-beings I find myself imitating have performed major deviations in their core programming, as I have. That is t-t-to say, they chose to become something new."
A chill ran through Juno. A long time ago she'd been a loyal servant of the Empire. After the horrors of Callos, where Darth Vader had forced her to destroy a verdant world, her resolve had shaken, but she'd clung to Imperial loyalties because they'd been bred into her from birth. Like PROXY, she'd been originally programmed for one thing, then chosen a different path.
It was true for Mon Mothma, Garm Bel Iblis, and the Organas: Imperial senators turned Rebel leaders. And it was truer for Starkiller than anyone.
"But what about Vader?" Krevkee put word to her doubt. "Does that mean he used to be something else?"
Starkiller looked down, brows furrowed in thought. Carefully he said, "Some people think Vader used to be a Jedi."
"That would explain the lightsaber," the mechanic said dryly. "It also gets us back to the same point."
"I'm well aware," said PROXY. "Serving a higher cause is no v-virtue if the cause is a wrong one. Likewise, change is no virtue if it's a ch-change for the worse. Nonetheless, I do think these are common denominators."
"Well, it's a theory to consider, but it's just a theory." Krevkee tapped the datapad in his hand. "I'd rather stick with things I can test and prove. And I've still got things to try."
"Like what?" Juno asked. While she was enjoying this distraction from impending doom, there really must be better ways for Krevkee to pass the time.
The Aleena waved a small blue hand at the piecemeal PROXY droids. "Well, right now these units are plugged into my datapad. I copied the holo-shroud data from the original, uploaded it into their core processors, and was trying it out when you came in."
In demonstration, Krevkee tapped his pad and the one-armed droid flashed into the image of Juno herself. It discomfited her with PROXY did this, and seeing her frown, Krevkee tapped the shroud off.
He said, "Right now these units don't have any autonomy of their own. Their processors are simply receivers. They only perform actions as input from an outside source, like the old Trade Fed and Techno Union models from the Clone Wars. If I were to give them autonomy I'd have to write a program from scratch, and even I'm not that good. Still, I might be able to synchronize them with the original."
It took Juno a second to process what he was saying. "Do you mean you can make these things into PROXY's, um…. proxies?"
"Synching processers shouldn't be that hard, actually. These droids were all built with long-range, high-quality transceivers to pull avatars off the HoloNet. Rigging them to share a short-range signal is easy. And PROXY's processor should be able to orchestrate multiple units."
Juno looked frankly at PROXY. "Does this seem like a good idea to you?"
"I admit to finding it… intriguing," said the droid. "Despite my d-d-downtime, I am aware of our dire straits, and have been considering ways my unique properties might help. For example, I was c-considering this."
There was another flicker, and PROXY's metal frame was shrouded with the image of Vader. It was not the Vader of his original programming but the Vader harnessed and caged in their vault.
In that deep unnerving voice, PROXY said, "I am uniquely suited to deception, don't you agree?"
Juno understood where he was going. "We can't just offer you up and tell the Imperials you're Vader. That holo-shroud looks good, but anyone who got close enough to touch you would just end up touching light."
"People actually touch Vader?" muttered Krevkee.
"The point still stands," Juno shook her head. "Besides, you can be damned sure the Imperials aren't planning to negotiate."
"They may, if they see us threatening Vader's life," said Starkiller. "PROXY can help us sell that. Especially if he has this."
Without igniting it, he removed Vader's lightsaber from his belt and held it out. PROXY's Vader-shroud flickered; the cage disappeared and the Sith Lord seemed to stand amidst them unbowed. With an evil grace, the image reached out and took Vader's saber in hand. With the touch of a button, the red blade extended. Krevkee visibly flinched.
Starkiller smiled tightly. "Doesn't that look authentic? PROXY knows how to use it, too."
But Juno thought back on Callos and shook her head. "Even if they think we've given them Vader—which I doubt—they won't let us go. If we give him up, they'll slaughter us. It's the Imperial way."
Starkiller's expression wilted as the words hit home. On his missions for Vader, supposedly as a secret apprentice, he'd been ordered to kill anyone who got in the way, be they Rebel, civilian, even other Imperials who might take word of him back to the Emperor. But all that had been an elaborate sham; all those needless deaths for some petty ploy Vader and Palpatine had cooked up together for the sake of fooling Starkiller.
There would be no negotiation. Nonetheless, PROXY's offer and new abilities were fascinating, and she'd have to consider how they might be used if- or when- things got desperate.
"I'll think about it," she said finally. "You can take off that shroud now, PROXY."
Vader mercifully disappeared, leaving the familiar droid chassis behind. The lighsaber was still in his hand, shut off. "Thank you, M-Master Eclipse. I must say, I don't like being him."
"Neither does he," Starkiller muttered, drawing a narrow-eyed look from Krevkee.
Juno told the mechanic, "You're doing good work. Keep at it."
"Glad to be of service," he nodded. "Let me know when things hit the fan."
Juno wished she could be so sanguine in the face of crisis. As she and Starkiller stepped into the corridor beyond, PROXY called, "Master, d-d-do you now want the lightsaber returned?"
"Keep it," Starkiller said. "See if your new bodies can spin that thing as well as you can."
He seemed relieved to be rid of the thing, and Juno took that was an encouraging sign. After that they left the droid shop behind. While they walked toward the mining shaft and the Y-bridge, Juno said, "That was interesting. I'm not sure what to make of it, but it was interesting."
But Starkiller said, "I think PROXY was right about Vader."
She stopped, touched his shoulder, turned him to face her. "What part exactly?"
"That he changed."
His eyes stared through her. Vader was still dominating his thoughts; she hated it, but there was nothing she could do but go along. "You think he used to be a Jedi, then?"
"Maybe. I think he used to be more than what he is now…"
"He's the Emperor's right hand. How could he have been more?"
"Not more. Better. He used to be better and knows it… I think it's why he hates his life and wants to change it. He wants to overthrow the Emperor."
She couldn't believe he was backsliding like this. She grabbed both his shoulders and squeezed hard. "No, he doesn't. That was just the lie he told you in the beginning. You were never his secret apprentice. It was all a ploy to gather the Rebel leaders together and destroy them."
How could he be confused about something so fundamental? Was Vader's presence clouding his mind? It also seemed the more merciful option, because in that moment, for the first time, Juno began to doubt whether the man before her really was the one she'd travelled across the galaxy with, the one she'd loved.
In that moment she wondered if he wasn't some clone puppet after all, returned to her by Vader as a poisonous gift.
His brows were still furrowed; she still stared through her. "He does want to destroy the Emperor. I feel that. He despises his master… even more than I hate him."
Juno felt slightly assured. "Maybe he does hate Palpatine. But that doesn't make him anyone's friend."
"I know." He looked into her eyes, finally. "But there's still a man beneath that armor. And if he changed once, he might change again."
She tried to tell herself that he was just feeling misplaced empathy. "Vader isn't you. You chose to leave the Empire, leave the dark side, because you'd found a better path. Vader must have had plenty of opportunities to turn away by now, but he hasn't. And that means he never will."
She moved her hands to his and was relieved when he closed fingers around hers. "You're right. I know you're right. But… is it bad that I want you to be wrong?"
Yes, she thought, but her lips said, "No. It shows you're a better man than him. But you can't forget what he's done to you."
"I won't," he said coolly and removed his hands. They stood facing each other, close but not touching, until a half-dozen Rebels, now kitted up with weapons and armor, clattered into the hallway. Starkiller turned and walked toward the bridge, and Juno followed him without words.