Revenge of the Jedi (9/17)
Sep. 21st, 2011 01:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghraine---------------
Title: Revenge of the Jedi (9/17)
Fanverse: Revenge of the Jedi
Blurb: Luke and Vader: awkwardtiemz! And Leia approaches the mysterious planet.
---------------
Chapter Nine
Darth Vader was seldom surprised by anything. Events transpired as he intended them to, slowed only by the occasional obstacle, easily removed.
The encounter at Cloud City had been the first exception to that rule in many, many years. He had not expected Luke to penetrate his defenses, or fall to likely death rather than turn; he had not expected Calrissian to discover what passed for courage with him; he had not expected the Corellian pirateship to miraculously regain hyperspace capabilities. Nevertheless, he had been partially successful; almost everything that occurred had been expected.
When he arrived at Tatooine, he expected -- he did not know. But he knew that the Force had drawn him here for a reason other than rank sentimentality. Presumably that reason would reveal itself in due course.
He had not known that the house had been burned, but he was not surprised. The homesteaders led a precarious existence. Owen and Beru, alone, would have been especially vulnerable.
Vulnerable? he scoffed. Owen could hold off an entire colony of Sand People.
Vader dismissed the thought, and the dismay pervading it. His -- Owen had known the risks he took in living here, just as he had known the risks he took in leaving.
I was fourteen. I knew nothing.
He stalked past the house, uncertain what the ruins of this place could offer him, but determined to discover it. He hesitated a moment, thinking he felt Luke’s presence -- but no, it was impossible. The heat must be interfering with his senses.
The suit should have been able to endure much higher temperatures without any ill effects -- but he foresaw no danger, so he could investigate the minor malfunction at another time. Vader turned around the corner and saw a pair of cairns alongside the two markers he remembered.
Owen, and Beru, he assumed. If his brother and sister-in-law had died at the hands of raiders, it was rather odd that the same raiders would then have the courtesy to dispose of their remains. Not important. But odd.
His legs moved towards the first grave he recognized -- almost of their own volition, he would have said, if the cybernetic limbs had any volition. Vader stared down at his mother’s name.
It occurred to him that, as successful as most of his immediate plans had been, that success had never extended beyond the immediate. He had meant to end the war, overthrow the Emperor, bring peace and order to the galaxy, and protect his son. He had not achieved any of those goals, except perhaps the last -- for a certain value of protect -- and as for what had been achieved, he had never intended it. In fact, he had ultimately succeeded neither in accomplishing what he did intend, nor in preventing what he did not.
Eighteen years ago, he had stood here, and sworn this would never happen again. Now every member of his family, but one, lay buried here, and the wretched weakness within himself refused to be silent.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never meant for any of this --
The suit did not register any increase of heat, but it must have been mistaken, because he thought he sensed his son right here. He refused to succumb to his fleshly weakness so much as to even check behind him. It was impossible. He knew that. He would find Luke in due time, but --
“Hello, Father.”
Vader paused, then turned around. For all the protestations of the moment before, he was not especially surprised.
“So you have accepted the truth,” he said.
“That you were once Anakin Skywalker?” said Luke, approaching him -- or the graves. “Yes.”
The respirator stuttered, then resumed its regular gasps. “That name no longer has any meaning for me.”
Luke shrugged. “If you say so,” he said, with an indifference, almost insolence, that would have been suicidal in anyone else. “Father.”
Vader crushed the first several replies that sprang to his mind. “You have been trying to hide from me,” he said instead. “Why are you here now?”
“I’ve been succeeding,” Luke snapped, sharply reminding his father of how very young he still was. Twenty-one in two months -- too old to tolerate childish weakness, too young to realize he was not invincible.
The vocoder didn’t bother to vocalize Vader’s sigh.
“And I don’t know,” Luke went on. “The Force didn’t provide a lot of details. But apparently I need to be here. So here I am.”
Vader remembered the lack of urgency that had so exasperated him, not a week earlier, and his jaw twitched. So. The Force had summoned Luke, just as it had him.
For what purpose, he did not know, and had no particular interest in knowing. It was enough that he’d been handed the opportunity he needed.
“And why are you here?” Luke said, turning to face him. “I can’t think you came to leave flowers.”
“It may not be necessary for you to turn to the Dark Side,” Vader mused, ignoring the question. “Yet.”
“What?”
“You have had a number of prescient dreams lately,” said Vader. “Dreams you have not sought -- which are nevertheless oddly specific to your goals.”
Luke stared at him, then paled. “You sent them. You’ve . . . but they were true. I could tell -- ”
“Of course they were true,” Vader said impatiently. “I cannot be seen to attack moffs and admirals -- not, at least, without incurring my master’s displeasure.”
Luke flinched. “But why would you want them attacked?” His brows drew together. “They were all your enemies?”
Vader paused a moment, then said, “They made themselves my enemies, some more recently than others.”
Luke folded his arms, waiting. His right hand tightened around his left forearm, but he gave no sign of pain; the hand seemed at least as functional as his father’s.
Vader drew himself out of his inexplicable preoccupation, and returned to the uncomfortable business of explaining himself. He had not answered to anyone but the Emperor for almost twenty years, and had no intention of making a habit of it, but he needed Luke’s willing assistance, and thanks to Palpatine’s folly, he needed it much more immediately than he had intended.
He found it strangely difficult to meet his son’s clear gaze, and turned a little away, towards the house. “There are those in the Empire who benefit from the war,” he said. “Many of them have done everything in their power to extend it. They have no concern for order and security, or any prosperity beyond their own.”
“Father, I’m a Rebel,” said Luke, and Vader’s gaze swung back to him. “That’s not exactly news to me.”
“They are a disgrace to the Empire!” Vader snapped, and added unnecessarily, “I . . . disapprove.”
Luke’s expression was unreadable. “You were on the Death Star,” he said, in a slow, careful, bewildered voice. “You stood by while Tarkin destroyed an entire planet. Now you’re leaking intelligence about your own allies to the Rebellion because . . . you disapprove of political corruption?”
“Yes,” said Vader, without further elaboration. This was different; everything would be different, this time.
“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Luke ran a hand through his hair in evident frustration. It was blond, Vader noted idly, like Arissa’s, but darker. “Why -- ”
“My change of mind is not as significant as you seem to think,” Vader finally told him. “I disapproved of the Death Star, as well, and made my feelings quite clear to the heretics I was forced to cooperate with.”
“Yes, but -- ”
“And the destruction of Alderaan was --” he paused -- “foolish. If I’d had the power to prevent it, I would have. I will have that power, next time. And there will be no more waste and corruption if I can stop it. Some small cooperation with your Rebel friends is far from the highest price I am willing to pay to bring order to the Empire and the galaxy.”
Luke opened his mouth, then shut it. “Right,” he managed to say, and frowned. “Wait. I blew up the Death Star. No thanks to you, since you were trying to kill me.”
“I had not yet discovered your identity, Luke,” said Vader. “If you die, it will not be by my hand.”
“I know,” Luke said absently. “But you said next time. What were you talking about? It’s not like there’s another Death Star floating around.”
Vader fell silent.
“Is it?”
“No,” he said. “Not another Death Star.”
“But something along the same lines?” Luke pressed.
Vader paused, considering. He had intended to provide the exact details somewhat later, after he had already won Luke’s allegiance, but if the revelation would gain his cooperation now, it was more than worth it.
“Yes,” he admitted. “The Emperor has secretly designed a weapon known as the Sun Crusher. It is still being planned right now, which makes this the perfect opportunity to strike at it.”
“The Sun Crusher? What does that do?”
Vader looked at him. “What do you think it does?”
“I was hoping it was a code name.”
“That would be too subtle for the Emperor,” Vader said, and even here, couldn’t keep from pacing back and forth, as if he were on the bridge of the Executor.
“I wasn’t going to mention that,” said Luke. “So -- um -- not that I don’t appreciate the information, but why are you telling me? Even if I do inform the Alliance, the knowledge that a plan to build another superweapon exists, somewhere, isn’t enough to act on. We’re not the Empire. We don’t have unlimited resources.”
“I know that,” Vader said irritably. “A full-scale attack would be pointless at this stage. A lone agent would be far more effective. An agent who could respond instantly to any change in plans, and pass unnoticed within the Empire.”
“Not you, then.”
“Of course not. I will not commit treason.”
Luke made a small, muffled sound that might have been a laugh. “You won’t commit treason,” he repeated. “So instead you want me to commit treason on your behalf?”
“You have an excellent grasp of the obvious.”
“And you should know how important it is to make sure everything’s been laid out clearly,” Luke replied, his insouciance sharpening to something Vader could not read, but which would undoubtedly hasten his eventual turn to the Dark Side. “You were trained by Obi-Wan, too.”
It was the first time in the last eighteen years that the mention of his old master’s name made Vader want to laugh, rather than to kill someone. But then, he had already killed Obi-Wan.
“I see,” he said, with perfect comprehension, then returned to the earlier subject. “I need an agent who can bypass mundane security measures, who I can contact immediately and securely, who has experience sabotaging Imperial projects, and who will under no circumstances betray me to the Emperor.”
“So basically, a Force-sensitive Rebel who happens to be your son,” said Luke. “How many of us are there?”
“You are my only child,” Vader said coldly.
“All right. But I can’t -- I know you’re not lying, but . . .” Luke rubbed his temples. “Even without the Dark Side, you’re -- but I can’t just let this thing -- I don’t know. What would you want me to do?”
“Is your foresight clouded?” Vader asked.
Luke’s brow furrowed. “Clouded? What do you mean?”
“No, then. Right now, I need information. You must meditate -- ”
“Meditate?” Luke gave him a look of almost comical dismay.
“I will do the same, but you are likely to obtain more specific information. Once we know when and where construction begins, you can infiltrate and sabotage the early stages of the project, delaying it as much as possible. Your disguise will depend on the security measures in place. Something face-concealing would be best, like stormtrooper armor.”
“I’m too short to be a stormtrooper,” said Luke, on another almost-laugh. “But I’m sure I can come up with something. If I do it.” He chewed his lip. “I have to think about this, all right? I realize we have a gigantic common interest here, but . . . I know you have your own agenda, and it is not mine. I’m not just going to be a weapon against the Emperor. Yours or anyone’s.”
“So you still have a master of your own,” Vader observed.
Luke’s lips thinned, and this time, Vader had no difficulty interpreting the emotion that blazed in his eyes: anger. Good.
“I have a teacher. There’s a difference, Father.” He paused, recovering himself. “But I do need advice.”
“And you think you will get practical advice from a Jedi?” Vader said skeptically. “You must learn to rely on your own wits and instincts.”
Luke looked startled. “Er, thanks? But -- no, not a Jedi. I’m going to consult Grandmother.”
“Your grandmothers are dead,” said Vader.
“I know that. But one of them was Force-sensitive. She can appear as a ghost, like . . . Jedi, and she talks to me.”
Vader stiffened. “You have spoken to my mother?”
“Sure.” Luke’s steady gaze was at once harder and more sympathetic. “Mostly about you,” he admitted. “She can’t go near you, you know. The Dark Side repels them or something. And nobody will talk to her about you either. So I guess she just haunted the furthest corners of your Star Destroyer until she found me.” He paused. “Do you want me to tell her anything?”
The respirator labored slightly. He had been in the heat too long.
“You may greet her,” Vader said, as coolly as he could manage.
“All right.” Luke glanced up at him, and a flicker of alarm crossed his face. “I need to get back. I’ll --” he made a vague gesture -- “talk to you when I’ve made a decision.”
“Very well,” said Vader, and left with no further response; he had made his case as clearly as he could, and any further conversation would be pointless. As he walked away, he thought that for all the insolent vacillating, there was something brisk and autocratic underlying Luke’s boyish manner. In time, he would make a very effective Emperor.
Vader had nearly reached his shuttle when another thought crossed his mind.
"Luke," he said.
There was a hesitation, then -- "What?"
"You may be followed. Chart an indirect course."
He had the impression of amusement, and yet another indefinable emotion.
"Yes, sir!" said Luke. Then he slammed his shields down and flew into hyperspace, fading to a distant presence in the corner of Vader’s mind.
Leia’s initial journey was surprisingly uneventful. She travelled in an unmarked ship, of course, and Chewie kept to the smuggler lanes, where everyone did their best to ignore everyone else. They replotted their course two or three times, just to be careful, but between their relative anonymity and Leia’s deep pockets, they had no difficulty avoiding notice.
No difficulty, at least, until they approached their destination -- Carathis, second planet in the Alcar IV system -- and Chewbacca gave a roar of alarm.
“What is it?” Leia asked. She saw nothing but the blackness of space, but Chewie had spent hours modifying the ship’s sensors. She suspected that, if they functioned at all, their reach extended well beyond the usual.
“He says he’s picking up three -- no, five -- other vessels,” said Threepio. “They’re too distant to make out clearly, but -- what do you mean? Don’t be silly, Chewbacca, that’s impossible!”
Leia turned to glare at him. “What, Threepio?”
“He . . . he suspects they’re Imperial cruisers, Princess, but that can’t be. Not this far --”
Her throat dried. “I thought you said there hadn’t been any Imperials here since the wars!”
“There haven’t,” reported Threepio. “Chewbacca spoke to his colonial friends only six months ago. These ships must have arrived recently, if they are Imperials. Which, I must say, I consider highly unlikely -- ”
She turned to the Wookiee. “How far are they?” she asked, and frowned at his reply. “That’s much deeper in the system than Carathis.”
“But Princess Leia,” said Threepio, “the only planets beyond Carathis are gas giants, and the only habitable satellite is the forest moon of --”
Chewbacca gave a mournful howl.
“Endor,” Leia finished. “They must be doing something there. Chewie, I’m so sorry. We’ll -- we’ll find a way to help your friends, all right? I’m sure high command will be interested in a secret project all the way out here.”
“He says that he’s interested,” said Threepio. “But he doesn’t want to risk your mission. He thinks they’re far enough away that we won’t show up on their radar, if we keep our shields up. Are we going ahead?”
Leia folded her arms, staring at the dark viewscreen.
“Yes,” she said.
She stepped out of the cockpit, closing the door behind her and facing the Alliance’s exploratory team. A full third of them were Alderaanian.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “we’re approaching the planet Carathis. We’ve found evidence of an Imperial presence deeper in the system, likely on the forest moon of Endor.” She took a deep breath. “I advise everyone to proceed with appropriate caution.”
Title: Revenge of the Jedi (9/17)
Fanverse: Revenge of the Jedi
Blurb: Luke and Vader: awkwardtiemz! And Leia approaches the mysterious planet.
---------------
Darth Vader was seldom surprised by anything. Events transpired as he intended them to, slowed only by the occasional obstacle, easily removed.
The encounter at Cloud City had been the first exception to that rule in many, many years. He had not expected Luke to penetrate his defenses, or fall to likely death rather than turn; he had not expected Calrissian to discover what passed for courage with him; he had not expected the Corellian pirateship to miraculously regain hyperspace capabilities. Nevertheless, he had been partially successful; almost everything that occurred had been expected.
When he arrived at Tatooine, he expected -- he did not know. But he knew that the Force had drawn him here for a reason other than rank sentimentality. Presumably that reason would reveal itself in due course.
He had not known that the house had been burned, but he was not surprised. The homesteaders led a precarious existence. Owen and Beru, alone, would have been especially vulnerable.
Vulnerable? he scoffed. Owen could hold off an entire colony of Sand People.
Vader dismissed the thought, and the dismay pervading it. His -- Owen had known the risks he took in living here, just as he had known the risks he took in leaving.
I was fourteen. I knew nothing.
He stalked past the house, uncertain what the ruins of this place could offer him, but determined to discover it. He hesitated a moment, thinking he felt Luke’s presence -- but no, it was impossible. The heat must be interfering with his senses.
The suit should have been able to endure much higher temperatures without any ill effects -- but he foresaw no danger, so he could investigate the minor malfunction at another time. Vader turned around the corner and saw a pair of cairns alongside the two markers he remembered.
Owen, and Beru, he assumed. If his brother and sister-in-law had died at the hands of raiders, it was rather odd that the same raiders would then have the courtesy to dispose of their remains. Not important. But odd.
His legs moved towards the first grave he recognized -- almost of their own volition, he would have said, if the cybernetic limbs had any volition. Vader stared down at his mother’s name.
It occurred to him that, as successful as most of his immediate plans had been, that success had never extended beyond the immediate. He had meant to end the war, overthrow the Emperor, bring peace and order to the galaxy, and protect his son. He had not achieved any of those goals, except perhaps the last -- for a certain value of protect -- and as for what had been achieved, he had never intended it. In fact, he had ultimately succeeded neither in accomplishing what he did intend, nor in preventing what he did not.
Eighteen years ago, he had stood here, and sworn this would never happen again. Now every member of his family, but one, lay buried here, and the wretched weakness within himself refused to be silent.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never meant for any of this --
The suit did not register any increase of heat, but it must have been mistaken, because he thought he sensed his son right here. He refused to succumb to his fleshly weakness so much as to even check behind him. It was impossible. He knew that. He would find Luke in due time, but --
“Hello, Father.”
Vader paused, then turned around. For all the protestations of the moment before, he was not especially surprised.
“So you have accepted the truth,” he said.
“That you were once Anakin Skywalker?” said Luke, approaching him -- or the graves. “Yes.”
The respirator stuttered, then resumed its regular gasps. “That name no longer has any meaning for me.”
Luke shrugged. “If you say so,” he said, with an indifference, almost insolence, that would have been suicidal in anyone else. “Father.”
Vader crushed the first several replies that sprang to his mind. “You have been trying to hide from me,” he said instead. “Why are you here now?”
“I’ve been succeeding,” Luke snapped, sharply reminding his father of how very young he still was. Twenty-one in two months -- too old to tolerate childish weakness, too young to realize he was not invincible.
The vocoder didn’t bother to vocalize Vader’s sigh.
“And I don’t know,” Luke went on. “The Force didn’t provide a lot of details. But apparently I need to be here. So here I am.”
Vader remembered the lack of urgency that had so exasperated him, not a week earlier, and his jaw twitched. So. The Force had summoned Luke, just as it had him.
For what purpose, he did not know, and had no particular interest in knowing. It was enough that he’d been handed the opportunity he needed.
“And why are you here?” Luke said, turning to face him. “I can’t think you came to leave flowers.”
“It may not be necessary for you to turn to the Dark Side,” Vader mused, ignoring the question. “Yet.”
“What?”
“You have had a number of prescient dreams lately,” said Vader. “Dreams you have not sought -- which are nevertheless oddly specific to your goals.”
Luke stared at him, then paled. “You sent them. You’ve . . . but they were true. I could tell -- ”
“Of course they were true,” Vader said impatiently. “I cannot be seen to attack moffs and admirals -- not, at least, without incurring my master’s displeasure.”
Luke flinched. “But why would you want them attacked?” His brows drew together. “They were all your enemies?”
Vader paused a moment, then said, “They made themselves my enemies, some more recently than others.”
Luke folded his arms, waiting. His right hand tightened around his left forearm, but he gave no sign of pain; the hand seemed at least as functional as his father’s.
Vader drew himself out of his inexplicable preoccupation, and returned to the uncomfortable business of explaining himself. He had not answered to anyone but the Emperor for almost twenty years, and had no intention of making a habit of it, but he needed Luke’s willing assistance, and thanks to Palpatine’s folly, he needed it much more immediately than he had intended.
He found it strangely difficult to meet his son’s clear gaze, and turned a little away, towards the house. “There are those in the Empire who benefit from the war,” he said. “Many of them have done everything in their power to extend it. They have no concern for order and security, or any prosperity beyond their own.”
“Father, I’m a Rebel,” said Luke, and Vader’s gaze swung back to him. “That’s not exactly news to me.”
“They are a disgrace to the Empire!” Vader snapped, and added unnecessarily, “I . . . disapprove.”
Luke’s expression was unreadable. “You were on the Death Star,” he said, in a slow, careful, bewildered voice. “You stood by while Tarkin destroyed an entire planet. Now you’re leaking intelligence about your own allies to the Rebellion because . . . you disapprove of political corruption?”
“Yes,” said Vader, without further elaboration. This was different; everything would be different, this time.
“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Luke ran a hand through his hair in evident frustration. It was blond, Vader noted idly, like Arissa’s, but darker. “Why -- ”
“My change of mind is not as significant as you seem to think,” Vader finally told him. “I disapproved of the Death Star, as well, and made my feelings quite clear to the heretics I was forced to cooperate with.”
“Yes, but -- ”
“And the destruction of Alderaan was --” he paused -- “foolish. If I’d had the power to prevent it, I would have. I will have that power, next time. And there will be no more waste and corruption if I can stop it. Some small cooperation with your Rebel friends is far from the highest price I am willing to pay to bring order to the Empire and the galaxy.”
Luke opened his mouth, then shut it. “Right,” he managed to say, and frowned. “Wait. I blew up the Death Star. No thanks to you, since you were trying to kill me.”
“I had not yet discovered your identity, Luke,” said Vader. “If you die, it will not be by my hand.”
“I know,” Luke said absently. “But you said next time. What were you talking about? It’s not like there’s another Death Star floating around.”
Vader fell silent.
“Is it?”
“No,” he said. “Not another Death Star.”
“But something along the same lines?” Luke pressed.
Vader paused, considering. He had intended to provide the exact details somewhat later, after he had already won Luke’s allegiance, but if the revelation would gain his cooperation now, it was more than worth it.
“Yes,” he admitted. “The Emperor has secretly designed a weapon known as the Sun Crusher. It is still being planned right now, which makes this the perfect opportunity to strike at it.”
“The Sun Crusher? What does that do?”
Vader looked at him. “What do you think it does?”
“I was hoping it was a code name.”
“That would be too subtle for the Emperor,” Vader said, and even here, couldn’t keep from pacing back and forth, as if he were on the bridge of the Executor.
“I wasn’t going to mention that,” said Luke. “So -- um -- not that I don’t appreciate the information, but why are you telling me? Even if I do inform the Alliance, the knowledge that a plan to build another superweapon exists, somewhere, isn’t enough to act on. We’re not the Empire. We don’t have unlimited resources.”
“I know that,” Vader said irritably. “A full-scale attack would be pointless at this stage. A lone agent would be far more effective. An agent who could respond instantly to any change in plans, and pass unnoticed within the Empire.”
“Not you, then.”
“Of course not. I will not commit treason.”
Luke made a small, muffled sound that might have been a laugh. “You won’t commit treason,” he repeated. “So instead you want me to commit treason on your behalf?”
“You have an excellent grasp of the obvious.”
“And you should know how important it is to make sure everything’s been laid out clearly,” Luke replied, his insouciance sharpening to something Vader could not read, but which would undoubtedly hasten his eventual turn to the Dark Side. “You were trained by Obi-Wan, too.”
It was the first time in the last eighteen years that the mention of his old master’s name made Vader want to laugh, rather than to kill someone. But then, he had already killed Obi-Wan.
“I see,” he said, with perfect comprehension, then returned to the earlier subject. “I need an agent who can bypass mundane security measures, who I can contact immediately and securely, who has experience sabotaging Imperial projects, and who will under no circumstances betray me to the Emperor.”
“So basically, a Force-sensitive Rebel who happens to be your son,” said Luke. “How many of us are there?”
“You are my only child,” Vader said coldly.
“All right. But I can’t -- I know you’re not lying, but . . .” Luke rubbed his temples. “Even without the Dark Side, you’re -- but I can’t just let this thing -- I don’t know. What would you want me to do?”
“Is your foresight clouded?” Vader asked.
Luke’s brow furrowed. “Clouded? What do you mean?”
“No, then. Right now, I need information. You must meditate -- ”
“Meditate?” Luke gave him a look of almost comical dismay.
“I will do the same, but you are likely to obtain more specific information. Once we know when and where construction begins, you can infiltrate and sabotage the early stages of the project, delaying it as much as possible. Your disguise will depend on the security measures in place. Something face-concealing would be best, like stormtrooper armor.”
“I’m too short to be a stormtrooper,” said Luke, on another almost-laugh. “But I’m sure I can come up with something. If I do it.” He chewed his lip. “I have to think about this, all right? I realize we have a gigantic common interest here, but . . . I know you have your own agenda, and it is not mine. I’m not just going to be a weapon against the Emperor. Yours or anyone’s.”
“So you still have a master of your own,” Vader observed.
Luke’s lips thinned, and this time, Vader had no difficulty interpreting the emotion that blazed in his eyes: anger. Good.
“I have a teacher. There’s a difference, Father.” He paused, recovering himself. “But I do need advice.”
“And you think you will get practical advice from a Jedi?” Vader said skeptically. “You must learn to rely on your own wits and instincts.”
Luke looked startled. “Er, thanks? But -- no, not a Jedi. I’m going to consult Grandmother.”
“Your grandmothers are dead,” said Vader.
“I know that. But one of them was Force-sensitive. She can appear as a ghost, like . . . Jedi, and she talks to me.”
Vader stiffened. “You have spoken to my mother?”
“Sure.” Luke’s steady gaze was at once harder and more sympathetic. “Mostly about you,” he admitted. “She can’t go near you, you know. The Dark Side repels them or something. And nobody will talk to her about you either. So I guess she just haunted the furthest corners of your Star Destroyer until she found me.” He paused. “Do you want me to tell her anything?”
The respirator labored slightly. He had been in the heat too long.
“You may greet her,” Vader said, as coolly as he could manage.
“All right.” Luke glanced up at him, and a flicker of alarm crossed his face. “I need to get back. I’ll --” he made a vague gesture -- “talk to you when I’ve made a decision.”
“Very well,” said Vader, and left with no further response; he had made his case as clearly as he could, and any further conversation would be pointless. As he walked away, he thought that for all the insolent vacillating, there was something brisk and autocratic underlying Luke’s boyish manner. In time, he would make a very effective Emperor.
Vader had nearly reached his shuttle when another thought crossed his mind.
"Luke," he said.
There was a hesitation, then -- "What?"
"You may be followed. Chart an indirect course."
He had the impression of amusement, and yet another indefinable emotion.
"Yes, sir!" said Luke. Then he slammed his shields down and flew into hyperspace, fading to a distant presence in the corner of Vader’s mind.
Leia’s initial journey was surprisingly uneventful. She travelled in an unmarked ship, of course, and Chewie kept to the smuggler lanes, where everyone did their best to ignore everyone else. They replotted their course two or three times, just to be careful, but between their relative anonymity and Leia’s deep pockets, they had no difficulty avoiding notice.
No difficulty, at least, until they approached their destination -- Carathis, second planet in the Alcar IV system -- and Chewbacca gave a roar of alarm.
“What is it?” Leia asked. She saw nothing but the blackness of space, but Chewie had spent hours modifying the ship’s sensors. She suspected that, if they functioned at all, their reach extended well beyond the usual.
“He says he’s picking up three -- no, five -- other vessels,” said Threepio. “They’re too distant to make out clearly, but -- what do you mean? Don’t be silly, Chewbacca, that’s impossible!”
Leia turned to glare at him. “What, Threepio?”
“He . . . he suspects they’re Imperial cruisers, Princess, but that can’t be. Not this far --”
Her throat dried. “I thought you said there hadn’t been any Imperials here since the wars!”
“There haven’t,” reported Threepio. “Chewbacca spoke to his colonial friends only six months ago. These ships must have arrived recently, if they are Imperials. Which, I must say, I consider highly unlikely -- ”
She turned to the Wookiee. “How far are they?” she asked, and frowned at his reply. “That’s much deeper in the system than Carathis.”
“But Princess Leia,” said Threepio, “the only planets beyond Carathis are gas giants, and the only habitable satellite is the forest moon of --”
Chewbacca gave a mournful howl.
“Endor,” Leia finished. “They must be doing something there. Chewie, I’m so sorry. We’ll -- we’ll find a way to help your friends, all right? I’m sure high command will be interested in a secret project all the way out here.”
“He says that he’s interested,” said Threepio. “But he doesn’t want to risk your mission. He thinks they’re far enough away that we won’t show up on their radar, if we keep our shields up. Are we going ahead?”
Leia folded her arms, staring at the dark viewscreen.
“Yes,” she said.
She stepped out of the cockpit, closing the door behind her and facing the Alliance’s exploratory team. A full third of them were Alderaanian.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “we’re approaching the planet Carathis. We’ve found evidence of an Imperial presence deeper in the system, likely on the forest moon of Endor.” She took a deep breath. “I advise everyone to proceed with appropriate caution.”