Revenge (4/17)
Sep. 16th, 2011 01:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghraineI managed to get my favourite game of all time (Might and Magic VII!) working on one of the computers, and holy crap where did the day go? Also, after a year of lurking at Mark Does Stuff, I almost got up the nerve to delurk because omg they sorted non-HP characters wrong.
But really, Darcy as a Gryffindor? lolwut? I guess nothing says Gryffindor like monologues, flirting via philosphical debate, collecting books, and scheming (successfully, no less). Elizabeth, on the other hand, is totally Gryffindor, with Bingley, Lydia, and Lady Catherine, while Mr Bennet joins Darcy in Ravenclaw. Mrs Bennet edges towards Slytherin for me, though, as do Charlotte and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Jane and Georgiana are raging Hufflepuffs, of course. Anyway.
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Title: Revenge of the Jedi (4/17)
Fanverse: Revenge of the Jedi
Blurb: Vader schemes, Luke has an alarming vision, and Vader schemes some more.
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Chapter Four
Darth Vader was most seriously displeased.
Unfortunately, he could not simply execute the object of his displeasure. Yet.
He sensed Luke occasionally, shining in the Force with all the stability of their native suns, but he had not found him. By all reports, nobody had found him. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the universe.
That Vader had company in his failure did nothing to reconcile him to it.
Neither did the Emperor’s new plan, which was exactly the same as his old plan -- turning planets into rubble until his Empire was either compliant, destroyed, or both.
Palpatine was a fool, he raged, and worse: a fool with nigh unlimited power. If he wanted to build a dozen of these . . . Sun Crushers, he could. If he managed to garner the necessary resources. And cut the stormtroopers’ pay by three-quarters.
This, too, would not have the Death Star’s flaw in its design -- though knowing Palpatine, it would have another, equally exploitable one. Vader could not be certain; the Emperor had not chosen to inform him about this project, which he had discovered through -- alternate means.
Even if he had his own copy of the schematics, however, they would be of little use. It was the Death Star all over again; he had to be free to act when the right moment came. Any visible interference from him would be tantamount to treason; in all likelihood, would be treason. And everything he did was visible; Obi-Wan had ensured that much.
Yet neither could he expect the Rebellion to step in, as they had with the Death Star; they didn’t even know of its existence, and of course he would never betray the Empire to them.
Vader paused. No, not the Empire. He had served it faithfully for almost thirty years and could not imagine betraying it. But Palpatine had proved himself vastly unworthy of his charge. He had authorized the murder of billions of his own subjects for no reason except to instill fear in the rest. He had failed to bring any kind of order to the galaxy and never seemed to feel the slightest interest in doing so. Vader suspected he found the endless conflict amusing.
Palpatine did not deserve his position as Emperor, and he did not deserve his strength in the Force. It would be a decided pleasure to betray him, if it were possible, even to the Rebels. His weaker self could protest all it liked.
He paused, expecting the usual petulant complaints about loyalty and decency, and was met only with silence. That cringing, pathetic, sanctimonious side of himself had no objections whatsoever.
Interesting, if irrelevant.
Vader could easily think of any amount of intelligence which would do no more harm in Rebel hands than in corrupt Imperial ones -- and it was an unfortunate fact that, outside of his present crew, most of his colleagues in the Empire came only in varying degrees of corrupt and incompetent. And while war did not amuse him, the idea of the Rebels and the Emperor furthering Vader’s plots against them both, and thereby assisting in their own destruction, did have a certain appeal.
Unfortunately, it would never be more than a pleasant idea, unless he could find a way to leak information to the Rebellion -- nothing critical, of course, only nonsensical projects such as these, whose failure would be for the Empire’s ultimate good. It would require a different kind of agent: someone quick, resourceful, unobtrusive, someone trusted by the Rebel command, yet able to communicate with Vader.
Everything, he thought irritably, kept coming back to Luke. Luke, who he could not even find. On the few occasions when Vader did sense him in the Force, Luke kept his mind firmly shielded. His father could not have spoken to him even if he had tried.
Somebody was teaching him, and not what he needed to know.
Vader had to find him again, and not over the two years it had taken him to do it before. And he needed to prevent anyone else from doing so. And even if he managed those things, he then had to present an offer that Luke would not reject on the spot, as he had the . . . other. Something that Luke would find appealing enough to consider cooperating with him.
Vader remembered the Death Star, and thought that might be the least of his problems.
“What are you doing?”
An Imperial officer, too low in the ranks for Luke to recognize, jumped and turned his computer station off.
“Forgive me, I was just -- ” He glanced up and all but sagged in relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Jirod.”
Jirod didn’t seem much mollified by this greeting. “Skywalker, again? Didn’t you hear Lord Vader say that he doesn’t want us wasting any more time on him?”
“The Emperor still wants him. My cousin Radn -- ”
“Your cousin’s an idiot,” said Jirod, “and so are you, if you’re thinking about disobeying an order straight from Darth Vader.”
“That’s just some Jedi thing,” the officer said vaguely.
“So’s choking you with his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from doing it! Especially not lately. And defying him on his own ship? Janren, are you mad?”
Janren’s sharp features settled into an obstinate expression. “The Emperor will reward anyone who brings him the Rebel scum, and I think I’ve found a lead.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve got a report from an old general; he’s retired on some station in the middle of nowhere, and he swears -- ”
Luke’s eyes flew open.
He still struggled to foresee -- well, just to see other places in the present. His mind felt inexorably drawn towards the unformed potential of the future. But he was learning, and he’d managed it a few times. Enough to recognize the clarity and certainty of the present when he saw it. This wasn’t a possible future, or even the most likely of many futures. It had occurred even as he watched, and there was no changing it now.
He flipped onto the ground and raced towards the hut, where Yoda was amusing himself at Artoo’s expense.
“Master,” Luke gasped.
Yoda glanced up, and Artoo wheeled backwards with an indignant hiss.
“Someone knows where I am! Or will, soon enough. I knew I should have refueled at a different station!”
“Hm,” said Yoda. “Seen this, you have? When?”
“Now -- I mean, I saw it now, but it was just happening now, too. I could tell. I -- ”
At Yoda’s unimpressed expression, Luke cut himself off. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing his jangling nerves to settle down.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be . . . I didn’t expect anyone would find me here.”
“Found you, no one has,” Yoda pointed out, eyes briefly narrowing in thought.
“Not yet, but I saw an officer finding something that will lead him to me. An Imperial officer, I mean. One of -- of Vader’s.”
Yoda’s eyes widened in alarm, and something weak and petty in Luke’s mind was gratified to see it. So often, his master seemed entirely above ordinary concerns -- even extraordinary ones, at that. But his fa -- but Vader could disconcert even him. Luke repressed the feeling as unworthy.
“Vader! Knows you are here, he does?”
“No.” Luke thought back to the conversation he’d -- overheard. “No, he didn’t want anyone looking for me. Anyone else, that is. The officer was disobeying him. I think he was going to look for me himself, and . . . try to take me to the Emperor.”
Yoda chuckled. “Heh. Failed, he would have, yes? But it matters not.”
Luke stifled his instinctive protest. “I don’t think a single Imperial could overcome both of us -- ” Artoo beeped -- “sorry, all three of us. He didn’t seem like he commands any troops, either. But if he does track me here, the information will get out. These things always do.”
“Often,” Yoda allowed. “Always? No. There is no danger.”
He spoke with unmistakable assurance. Still --
“You’ve seen it? But maybe it’s like Cloud City.”
Yoda shook his head. “Never certain is it, what will happen. Possibilities only does the Force show us -- and impossibilities. When we are assured of what will not happen . . . that is certain. This man will fail.”
Luke still felt a flicker of unease.
“Well -- if you say so,” he said doubtfully.
“Hm! Exercises you have to complete, yes?”
“Yes, Master Yoda.”
Luke trudged off, remembering when his most onerous obligation had been gathering water in his uncle’s fields. It had been miserable work, not like this, but unthinking, too. Two years ago, he would never have imagined that he’d be floating above a swamp, trying to pick out pieces of reality from the mass of sights and sounds that could flood his brain at any moment.
At least he’d learned how to shut them out, even if his control was otherwise painfully fragile. That had taken a week, a week he’d spent all but locked into the Force. He’d practically gotten used to seeing double by the end of it. This was the first day he’d done anything else -- which would have been a relief, except that Yoda had taken it into his head that Luke should be able to levitate himself, clear out debris from a recent storm, and sort through visions, all at the same time.
I bet Father could do it perfectly. Probably before he turned fifteen, Luke grumbled to himself, distracted by the multiplicity of tasks, and felt a distant surprise followed by -- amusement?
Father!
He instantly shut down that connection, and everything else, too, feeling like he’d run a race in that single moment. He’d almost forgotten, thought of his father as the impossible paragon Obi-Wan had spoken of.
Of course, his father was Darth Vader. He had been that paragon, once, and now he was just as impressive, in an evil way. It was probably still true.
Luke remembered the duel on Cloud City -- not the revelation that had overshadowed everything else, but the actual duel. More than a duel, really; it’d been like the entire room was trying to kill him.
Definitely true, he thought. Luke sighed and went back to practicing.
If the Force could smirk, Vader suspected it would be doing so.
He had needed to find Luke; he had been frustrated by his fruitless search. Yet even as he plotted the overthrow of the Emperor and railed against the Sun Crusher in the comparative safety of his own mind, knowing that he could achieve none of his objectives without his son’s willing assistance, he felt a certain lack of -- urgency. The Force provided little guidance, but it reassured him that he need not overly concern himself.
Vader did not object to waiting; he had become accustomed to it over the last twenty years. It was one thing to wait for a proper opportunity to act. It was quite another to wait for a situation to resolve itself.
He obeyed his orders from Palpatine, since there was apparently nothing else to do, and simmered.
Then, as he sat in his hyperbaric chamber, breathing the heavily oxygenated air, he heard Luke speak. Not to him, but nevertheless, Vader heard him as clearly as if he were standing beside him.
For a moment, he was motionless with shock, and then he caught a familiar petulant note and, painfully, smiled. Before he could say anything, however, the connection faded back into the usual distant awareness.
Vader’s suit gave a discreet beep. He permitted himself one last glance around the sterile white walls before the mask came down, tinting his vision red. He emerged from the pod with considerable more purpose than he had betrayed since Cloud City.
So. Luke did not keep his mind closed to him at all times. Clearly, he had been practicing a comparatively advanced technique, on this occasion, and had simply . . . forgotten. As he continued, he might very well forget again.
It would not provide the contact that Vader needed for his overarching plan, certainly. But it might suffice for his lesser goals; if he were watchful and prepared, he should at least be able to pass information.
Not the Sun Crusher, he decided; not yet. Small, trifling things, of no importance to the Empire and little to the Emperor. Inconveniences -- for his enemies within the Empire. Any number of the grand moffs, for instance, had an unpleasant habit of maintaining private fleets.
It would be . . . impolitic to act against them directly. That was the difficulty of having enemies within the Empire. However, he kept a close eye on their movements, insignificant though they were next to the might of the Imperial Starfleet. They could be no threat to him -- but the presumption annoyed him.
Jerjerrod, Vader remembered, had plans to move a full half of his fleet to the abandoned Rebel base on Dantooine, in what passed for secrecy with him.
He had been particularly irksome this week.
Several days later, when Luke dropped his shields again, Vader was ready. He reached out -- and almost fell into a morass of wild, confused, largely unconnected imaginings. It took him a moment to determine that Luke had not ingested any hallucinogenic substances, purposefully or otherwise, and was instead merely asleep.
All the better.
Seven hours later, and a few dozen light-years away, Luke Skywalker opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling while his thoughts cleared, then blinked in confusion.
“Dantooine?”
But really, Darcy as a Gryffindor? lolwut? I guess nothing says Gryffindor like monologues, flirting via philosphical debate, collecting books, and scheming (successfully, no less). Elizabeth, on the other hand, is totally Gryffindor, with Bingley, Lydia, and Lady Catherine, while Mr Bennet joins Darcy in Ravenclaw. Mrs Bennet edges towards Slytherin for me, though, as do Charlotte and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Jane and Georgiana are raging Hufflepuffs, of course. Anyway.
---------------
Title: Revenge of the Jedi (4/17)
Fanverse: Revenge of the Jedi
Blurb: Vader schemes, Luke has an alarming vision, and Vader schemes some more.
---------------
Darth Vader was most seriously displeased.
Unfortunately, he could not simply execute the object of his displeasure. Yet.
He sensed Luke occasionally, shining in the Force with all the stability of their native suns, but he had not found him. By all reports, nobody had found him. He seemed to have disappeared off the face of the universe.
That Vader had company in his failure did nothing to reconcile him to it.
Neither did the Emperor’s new plan, which was exactly the same as his old plan -- turning planets into rubble until his Empire was either compliant, destroyed, or both.
Palpatine was a fool, he raged, and worse: a fool with nigh unlimited power. If he wanted to build a dozen of these . . . Sun Crushers, he could. If he managed to garner the necessary resources. And cut the stormtroopers’ pay by three-quarters.
This, too, would not have the Death Star’s flaw in its design -- though knowing Palpatine, it would have another, equally exploitable one. Vader could not be certain; the Emperor had not chosen to inform him about this project, which he had discovered through -- alternate means.
Even if he had his own copy of the schematics, however, they would be of little use. It was the Death Star all over again; he had to be free to act when the right moment came. Any visible interference from him would be tantamount to treason; in all likelihood, would be treason. And everything he did was visible; Obi-Wan had ensured that much.
Yet neither could he expect the Rebellion to step in, as they had with the Death Star; they didn’t even know of its existence, and of course he would never betray the Empire to them.
Vader paused. No, not the Empire. He had served it faithfully for almost thirty years and could not imagine betraying it. But Palpatine had proved himself vastly unworthy of his charge. He had authorized the murder of billions of his own subjects for no reason except to instill fear in the rest. He had failed to bring any kind of order to the galaxy and never seemed to feel the slightest interest in doing so. Vader suspected he found the endless conflict amusing.
Palpatine did not deserve his position as Emperor, and he did not deserve his strength in the Force. It would be a decided pleasure to betray him, if it were possible, even to the Rebels. His weaker self could protest all it liked.
He paused, expecting the usual petulant complaints about loyalty and decency, and was met only with silence. That cringing, pathetic, sanctimonious side of himself had no objections whatsoever.
Interesting, if irrelevant.
Vader could easily think of any amount of intelligence which would do no more harm in Rebel hands than in corrupt Imperial ones -- and it was an unfortunate fact that, outside of his present crew, most of his colleagues in the Empire came only in varying degrees of corrupt and incompetent. And while war did not amuse him, the idea of the Rebels and the Emperor furthering Vader’s plots against them both, and thereby assisting in their own destruction, did have a certain appeal.
Unfortunately, it would never be more than a pleasant idea, unless he could find a way to leak information to the Rebellion -- nothing critical, of course, only nonsensical projects such as these, whose failure would be for the Empire’s ultimate good. It would require a different kind of agent: someone quick, resourceful, unobtrusive, someone trusted by the Rebel command, yet able to communicate with Vader.
Everything, he thought irritably, kept coming back to Luke. Luke, who he could not even find. On the few occasions when Vader did sense him in the Force, Luke kept his mind firmly shielded. His father could not have spoken to him even if he had tried.
Somebody was teaching him, and not what he needed to know.
Vader had to find him again, and not over the two years it had taken him to do it before. And he needed to prevent anyone else from doing so. And even if he managed those things, he then had to present an offer that Luke would not reject on the spot, as he had the . . . other. Something that Luke would find appealing enough to consider cooperating with him.
Vader remembered the Death Star, and thought that might be the least of his problems.
“What are you doing?”
An Imperial officer, too low in the ranks for Luke to recognize, jumped and turned his computer station off.
“Forgive me, I was just -- ” He glanced up and all but sagged in relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Jirod.”
Jirod didn’t seem much mollified by this greeting. “Skywalker, again? Didn’t you hear Lord Vader say that he doesn’t want us wasting any more time on him?”
“The Emperor still wants him. My cousin Radn -- ”
“Your cousin’s an idiot,” said Jirod, “and so are you, if you’re thinking about disobeying an order straight from Darth Vader.”
“That’s just some Jedi thing,” the officer said vaguely.
“So’s choking you with his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from doing it! Especially not lately. And defying him on his own ship? Janren, are you mad?”
Janren’s sharp features settled into an obstinate expression. “The Emperor will reward anyone who brings him the Rebel scum, and I think I’ve found a lead.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve got a report from an old general; he’s retired on some station in the middle of nowhere, and he swears -- ”
Luke’s eyes flew open.
He still struggled to foresee -- well, just to see other places in the present. His mind felt inexorably drawn towards the unformed potential of the future. But he was learning, and he’d managed it a few times. Enough to recognize the clarity and certainty of the present when he saw it. This wasn’t a possible future, or even the most likely of many futures. It had occurred even as he watched, and there was no changing it now.
He flipped onto the ground and raced towards the hut, where Yoda was amusing himself at Artoo’s expense.
“Master,” Luke gasped.
Yoda glanced up, and Artoo wheeled backwards with an indignant hiss.
“Someone knows where I am! Or will, soon enough. I knew I should have refueled at a different station!”
“Hm,” said Yoda. “Seen this, you have? When?”
“Now -- I mean, I saw it now, but it was just happening now, too. I could tell. I -- ”
At Yoda’s unimpressed expression, Luke cut himself off. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing his jangling nerves to settle down.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be . . . I didn’t expect anyone would find me here.”
“Found you, no one has,” Yoda pointed out, eyes briefly narrowing in thought.
“Not yet, but I saw an officer finding something that will lead him to me. An Imperial officer, I mean. One of -- of Vader’s.”
Yoda’s eyes widened in alarm, and something weak and petty in Luke’s mind was gratified to see it. So often, his master seemed entirely above ordinary concerns -- even extraordinary ones, at that. But his fa -- but Vader could disconcert even him. Luke repressed the feeling as unworthy.
“Vader! Knows you are here, he does?”
“No.” Luke thought back to the conversation he’d -- overheard. “No, he didn’t want anyone looking for me. Anyone else, that is. The officer was disobeying him. I think he was going to look for me himself, and . . . try to take me to the Emperor.”
Yoda chuckled. “Heh. Failed, he would have, yes? But it matters not.”
Luke stifled his instinctive protest. “I don’t think a single Imperial could overcome both of us -- ” Artoo beeped -- “sorry, all three of us. He didn’t seem like he commands any troops, either. But if he does track me here, the information will get out. These things always do.”
“Often,” Yoda allowed. “Always? No. There is no danger.”
He spoke with unmistakable assurance. Still --
“You’ve seen it? But maybe it’s like Cloud City.”
Yoda shook his head. “Never certain is it, what will happen. Possibilities only does the Force show us -- and impossibilities. When we are assured of what will not happen . . . that is certain. This man will fail.”
Luke still felt a flicker of unease.
“Well -- if you say so,” he said doubtfully.
“Hm! Exercises you have to complete, yes?”
“Yes, Master Yoda.”
Luke trudged off, remembering when his most onerous obligation had been gathering water in his uncle’s fields. It had been miserable work, not like this, but unthinking, too. Two years ago, he would never have imagined that he’d be floating above a swamp, trying to pick out pieces of reality from the mass of sights and sounds that could flood his brain at any moment.
At least he’d learned how to shut them out, even if his control was otherwise painfully fragile. That had taken a week, a week he’d spent all but locked into the Force. He’d practically gotten used to seeing double by the end of it. This was the first day he’d done anything else -- which would have been a relief, except that Yoda had taken it into his head that Luke should be able to levitate himself, clear out debris from a recent storm, and sort through visions, all at the same time.
I bet Father could do it perfectly. Probably before he turned fifteen, Luke grumbled to himself, distracted by the multiplicity of tasks, and felt a distant surprise followed by -- amusement?
Father!
He instantly shut down that connection, and everything else, too, feeling like he’d run a race in that single moment. He’d almost forgotten, thought of his father as the impossible paragon Obi-Wan had spoken of.
Of course, his father was Darth Vader. He had been that paragon, once, and now he was just as impressive, in an evil way. It was probably still true.
Luke remembered the duel on Cloud City -- not the revelation that had overshadowed everything else, but the actual duel. More than a duel, really; it’d been like the entire room was trying to kill him.
Definitely true, he thought. Luke sighed and went back to practicing.
If the Force could smirk, Vader suspected it would be doing so.
He had needed to find Luke; he had been frustrated by his fruitless search. Yet even as he plotted the overthrow of the Emperor and railed against the Sun Crusher in the comparative safety of his own mind, knowing that he could achieve none of his objectives without his son’s willing assistance, he felt a certain lack of -- urgency. The Force provided little guidance, but it reassured him that he need not overly concern himself.
Vader did not object to waiting; he had become accustomed to it over the last twenty years. It was one thing to wait for a proper opportunity to act. It was quite another to wait for a situation to resolve itself.
He obeyed his orders from Palpatine, since there was apparently nothing else to do, and simmered.
Then, as he sat in his hyperbaric chamber, breathing the heavily oxygenated air, he heard Luke speak. Not to him, but nevertheless, Vader heard him as clearly as if he were standing beside him.
For a moment, he was motionless with shock, and then he caught a familiar petulant note and, painfully, smiled. Before he could say anything, however, the connection faded back into the usual distant awareness.
Vader’s suit gave a discreet beep. He permitted himself one last glance around the sterile white walls before the mask came down, tinting his vision red. He emerged from the pod with considerable more purpose than he had betrayed since Cloud City.
So. Luke did not keep his mind closed to him at all times. Clearly, he had been practicing a comparatively advanced technique, on this occasion, and had simply . . . forgotten. As he continued, he might very well forget again.
It would not provide the contact that Vader needed for his overarching plan, certainly. But it might suffice for his lesser goals; if he were watchful and prepared, he should at least be able to pass information.
Not the Sun Crusher, he decided; not yet. Small, trifling things, of no importance to the Empire and little to the Emperor. Inconveniences -- for his enemies within the Empire. Any number of the grand moffs, for instance, had an unpleasant habit of maintaining private fleets.
It would be . . . impolitic to act against them directly. That was the difficulty of having enemies within the Empire. However, he kept a close eye on their movements, insignificant though they were next to the might of the Imperial Starfleet. They could be no threat to him -- but the presumption annoyed him.
Jerjerrod, Vader remembered, had plans to move a full half of his fleet to the abandoned Rebel base on Dantooine, in what passed for secrecy with him.
He had been particularly irksome this week.
Several days later, when Luke dropped his shields again, Vader was ready. He reached out -- and almost fell into a morass of wild, confused, largely unconnected imaginings. It took him a moment to determine that Luke had not ingested any hallucinogenic substances, purposefully or otherwise, and was instead merely asleep.
All the better.
Seven hours later, and a few dozen light-years away, Luke Skywalker opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling while his thoughts cleared, then blinked in confusion.
“Dantooine?”