Chapter 16

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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Mara knocked lightly on the Peerless' ready-room and entered without waiting for a reply. Skywalker was stood to the far side with his back to the room, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, still looking out at the Fury.

She frowned, still uncertain why he remained in such a melancholy mood when the operation was a significant success. Yes there were unexpected complications, but he'd taken the leader of the Rebellion into custody, after two decades of the Empire hunting her, and he'd done so with a small force and minimal conflict or collateral damage, which made her capture that much more embarrassing for the Rebellion.

For herself, right now Mara felt... what? Buoyant; infused with confidence- certain that he would lead them to further victories, more convinced daily of his loyalty to the Empire and positive of Palpatine's faith in him.

She remembered when she had first seen him unconscious in the Perlemian Apartments - now referred to by all as The Heir's Apartments - and the Emperor said that he would lead the Empire one day. Remembered her indifference; her unconvinced disapproval. Now... now she simply couldn't imagine life without him; didn't want to. She had a vague memory of it being... serious and sombre; less stimulating, less energising. But then in the Palace it still was, she supposed- she'd always preferred to be out here in the galaxy... it was just that now, she preferred to be out here, in the galaxy with Skywalker.

With The Heir.

It had been a rocky road from that first wary meeting to his acknowledgement by Palpatine as the man who would one day rule the Empire, but more and more she had faith in his ability to do just that. More and more she saw in Skywalker the man worthy to be successor to Palpatine. They still had their disagreements, he and the Emperor, the friction often bordering on blatant dissent, and she didn't expect them to stop any time soon. But what she'd once seen as a stubborn obstinate flaw, she recognised now as part of his strength; he wasn't easily browbeaten or bribed, even by a Sith Emperor. In Vader, her master had always sought to create a savant; a loyal advocate - in Luke, he was moulding a leader. She saw that now. Saw the lessons he taught; the distinctions, the subtle adaptations and tolerance - though she doubted Skywalker had that perspective yet.

But he surely would, given time; she believed that absolutely now. Mara couldn't for one moment imagine anyone else in the role Skywalker had achieved. Nor, she suspected, could the Emperor.

Yes, she knew Skywalker still had ties- more probably than Palpatine thought. She'd played a hunch and gone back to check the security images from the prisoners who were transferred over to the Peerless from the scuppered Fury, and Han Solo had been among the prisoners taken onboard and magically, when Mara had checked again less than an hour ago, he was no longer in the manifest. What exactly Skywalker had done with him, she didn't know, but she could pretty much figure out the bigger picture - she knew that Skywalker had kept the Corellian smuggler's freighter in deep storage aboard the Peerless since about three months after he had taken command, and she'd bet a year's salary that it was no longer there.

But this was small-fry, unimportant in the larger scheme of things; one of those quirky little contradictions which made him so intriguing. Luke had taken prisoner all of those of value to their master; had been most conscientious in that.

It was that which she knew now as she looked to his reflection in the tall viewpane to the rear of his ready-room, Luke remaining still and silent, lost in thought, eyes on the hulking shadow of the dead Star Destroyer. It didn't matter, she knew; he had many more in his fleet.

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Luke stared at the crippled Fury, lost in his own thoughts, changing his focus just momentarily from it to the reflection of Mara Jade in the viewpane then back to the Destroyer again without speaking.

An awful lot of mess and loss in this last desperate tangle and nothing to show for it - on both sides. But at least his was by choice. Could he have caught Madine? Yes, easily when the Peerless had arrived, but he'd ordered them to leave the distant Rebel freighter alone, claiming no-one of value was onboard, telling his Admiral to let it return to its Rebellion with the full tale of their failure and Mothma's loss. The truth was that he wasn't prepared to risk Leia's involvment to catch Madine, and since they were together, if he caught one then he also caught the other. First rule of sabacc; never get pot-committed. So he'd let Madine get away; after everything he'd risked, the price was just too high - this time.

Some small part of him had been tempted to tell the Peerless to disable the tiny Rebel freighter and reel it in, firstly because he wanted Madine and secondly because he wanted to confirm what his Master wanted with Leia. But it would have required a massive editing of Luke's own plans to gain what was probably only a minor and, now that he knew what she was capable of, unsurprising piece of information. Presumably his Master wanted Leia Organa because she was Force-sensetive; he either wanted to train her or he wanted to kill her, and neither were particularly conducive to Luke's own plans.

No- he needed her where she was for now. And he'd needed Han to watch her- and hopefully intervene on Luke's behalf, when it came to the crunch. Leia was integral to his long-term plans and Han... Han was his insurance. That was the only reason for is actions today. He smiled just slightly, the action pulling at the scar over his lips;

And anyway, he couldn't imagine Han Solo without the Falcon - it set the galaxy to rights.

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Seeing him smile slightly, Mara returned the same, relieved that her initial reading of his mood had been wrong.

"Congratulations." She said; the first time she'd felt safe to do so. "I haven't contacted the Emperor yet. I thought you'd want to make this report yourself."

"No." He replied casually, turning back to walk to his desk. In someone else, she would have thought it false humility, but in Luke she knew it was more calculated than that; he was playing his political games, even now. "Make the report. Send it to..." he paused, glancing up at her without lifting his head, voice teasing wickedly, "...whoever the hell you send those things to that I'm not supposed to know about."

She set an unimpressed expression on her face, head to one side, but was prevented from making any reply by a quick knock at the door. Skywalker gave his best 'how convenient' look in return as he spoke out, "Yes."

Lieutenant Fallin, another relatively newly-appointed bridge officer entered, clearing his throat. "Sir, all the prisoners are logged and confined; just under a hundred in total. We're ready to make the jump to join up with the Executor at Nubia. Ops are asking what's to be done with the Bothan ship- the Attin'Cho."

Mara half-turned, reciting the Commander's usual order under such circumstances, "Set it adrift and use it for target practice. Have the gunners..."

"Wait." Luke interjected, "Is it still capable of life-support?"

"No Sir." Fallin replied, glancing down at his automemo which clearly held a 'tech run-down of the freighter before adding, "But I think engineering could get it made ready in a few hours if you require it."

Mara took a long look at the young officer; that kind of initiative wasn't common among his kind anymore; in the Imperial fleet it was more usual to keep one's head down. He was another one of Luke's finds, poached from the ISD Hurricane a few months earlier and given a promotion to earn him a place in the Peerless' bridge crew.

She hadn't failed to notice the recent turnover of staff onboard the Peerless - nor the subtle change in attitude which had accompanied it. There was a pragmatic, get-it-done mindset now; a sense of purpose, promotions depending not on who you knew or where you had trained, but on aptitude and attitude, less relevance placed on following the rules and more on achieving results. The consequent determined optimism was quietly contagious, spreading not just through the Peerless, but beginning to be whispered further afield. Skywalker was no longer leading someone else's forces; he was creating his own.

Luke nodded, "Do so, and leave parts onboard so that its comm system can be repaired."

Mara glanced back, confused, "Why do you want it spaceworthy?"

Luke turned mismatched eyes to her, "The Bothan crew presently held in the detention centre are to be returned to the ship when it's been made safe, then it's to be cast adrift before the Peerless goes to lightspeed."

Mara frowned, "You want to let them go?"

"I am letting them go." He stated simply, tone inviting no argument as he turned back to Fallin, "See to the freighter- quickly as possible; I want to be in lightspeed by the shift change."

Fallin clicked his heels as he bowed his head, "Yes Sir."

He turned smartly and exited, leaving Mara to stare at Luke as he sat down and turned his attention to the automemo on his desk. He remained silent for long moments, but Mara held her peace, and eventually he spoke out without looking up, "You disapprove."

She shrugged, "I simply wonder what you're doing."

"Perhaps I'm feeling generous." he evaded, eyes on the automemo screen.

She smiled just slightly, "Yeah, 'cos I would fall for that."

Luke sighed slightly, looking up. "Well then perhaps it's the fact that in the last three months I've take over sixty-five prisoners, all Bothan. The Attin'Cho was a Bothan ship with a predominantly Bothan crew- if I hold those who were onboard that will effectively double the number of Bothans who have been arrested on my command recently. I've no wish to alienate the Bothan species and create further problems for myself in the future over what's effectively nothing more than circumstance - that's not my objective here."

He turned back to his automemo, voice dismissive. "Plus there's a long-established Bothan spynet which serves the Empire and I don't wish to lose it- and neither dos the Emperor. More importantly, I'm not about to create a time bomb which will make all future dealings with the whole planet difficult simply for the sake of a few political miscreants. To do so would be to hand a moral victory to the Rebellion, and I won't give them something valuable to pull out of this defeat. Let them go."

Mara nodded slowly, very aware of the fact that more and more, Luke was thinking and acting with a real awareness of his future with the Empire - of his eventual position. He was becoming a leader.

"I'll make the arrangements." She said simply, turning to leave. She was at the door before he spoke again, bringing her eyes back to his own.

"Mara-"

He'd always had such flawless sky-blue eyes; now that wide segment of darkest brown left those perfect pale blue eyes mismatched so that when he looked at her, she often felt some vague uneasiness for several moments which she was unable to pin down, just as she did now. Then she would notice afresh the dark shard tainting them... and realise she was staring just a moment too long - just as she was now.

He paused just slightly and she looked away quickly, aware of those mismatched eyes on her, curious. Then he continued, all business again, the moment broken. "The Bothan leader Olin'yaa; he stays- I want to know how the Rebellion got the information about the Dynamic EMP from the restricted Invincible dockyard and how they managed to get the resources to build their own. And I want to know what the Rebellion intended to do with them, because it certainly wasn't for this."

She nodded and turned away, hand to the door release...

"Mara." His voice brought her instantly back round.

"Yes?"

He paused again; "You did well today. Thank-you."

She blinked, unused to praise from him, then shrugged, "We make a good team."

He smiled genuinely, the action pulling the scar through his lips to a crescent, "Yes... we do."

He held her gaze for a few seconds before turning back down to his work and she was left to stare at his dark hair for long seconds before wiping what was probably a very foolish grin off her face and turning to leave.

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The two immense wedge-shaped hulls of the Super Star Destroyers made an impressive sight holding position close to Nubia, just beyond the well-travelled trade route crossing points of the Hydian and the Corellian Way. With the two Flagships were a total of nine Imperial-Class Star Destroyers, an outrageous show of force made more for political effect than to actually protect the prisoner they held.

This imposing squadron, a mix of Core and Rim Fleet Destroyers, remained in tight formation, ostensibly awaiting confirmation to make the last leg of the return to Coruscant together, synchronising systems so that they would arrive in orbit at the same time. In truth, the relative Fleet Admirals had made all arrangements hours ago and were simply awaiting confirmation from their Commander-in-Chiefs, who had spoken to each-other only briefly by inter-ship com several hours earlier.


It was common knowledge among the Fleet that Lord Vader and The Heir had a strained professional relationship bordering on hostility...

And they both worked hard to maintain that perception.

The Heir had continued to work through the changing shift onboard his Flagship, as was his habit, before returning to his quarters to continue working in his private office there, as was also his habit, Mara and Reece retiring for the night when he did.

So no-one noticed the man who slipped away in the carefully-timed gap between the patrolling guards' attention, the surveillance lenses along the corridors about The Heir's quarters always incidentally pointing the wrong way in their pre-programmed sweeps. He left the Peerless on a maintenance lugger, waiting for him in the off-limits bay occupied by the 701st, and landed in the docking bay of the Executor dedicated to Vader's own trusted troops, the 501st. He'd return the same way in a few hours' time, no-one being any the wiser. It wasn't the first time he'd done it and he doubted that it would be the last.

But it was of particular relevance because he had one stop to make, and though the arrangements had been made by his father, for once it wasn't him Luke was going to see.

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Mon woke with a start to the near-darkness of the cell, staring at the blank wall before her. For long seconds she lay still and listened to her heart beat loud... then the slightest of sounds scraped through the darkness behind her, tingling up her spine as she twisted about.

There, crouched down and sat on his heels, leaning back against the far wall, was a hunched, dark-clothed figure who watched her through pale eyes, cold as ice in darkness...

"What do you want?" She had meant it to sound stern and unafraid, but it had come out as little more than a whisper.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." He said simply, eyes intent on her.

Mon sat up pulling the thin blanket to her, uncertain what to say, all her resolve bleeding away into the dim shadows. His eyes remained steady on her, face unreadable in the low light, and Mon couldn't help but look again to the deep scar which ran down the right side of is face. She glanced away, then made herself look back as those unsettling, mismatched eyes remained steady on her. Had they always been that; one eye blue, the other cast through with brown, so dark in the low light as to seem almost black.

"You're being taken to Coruscant for trial." He said finally, voice emotionless, "I should imagine the verdict is pretty much a foregone conclusion."

"Is that what you're here for? To gloat?"

"No." he seemed strangely placid, not rising to her angry accusation. "I thought you would want to know. Nobody should have to go to death unprepared."

Mon felt lightheaded at this, angry and outraged all at once, her passion giving her courage.

"I'm not afraid of you." She announced, and he moved just slightly, making her start despite her words.

"Yes you are. You'd be a fool not to be, and you were never that, Mon. Blind perhaps- willing to be led."

She frowned into the shadows, shaking her head in refusal. "I'm not going to play your word-games."

He remained hunched against the wall, a shadow in darkness, those star-bright eyes glinting. "No? Not even once, for old-time's sake?"

Mon searched his face in the dusky light, but nothing was there save expectant amusement, any real intent or emotions well hidden, the man she had thought she knew completely discarded.

"Do you have anything you'd like me to pass on?" he asked at last, completely serious.

"To whom?" Mon challenged, "We hardly move in the same circles."

He only shrugged, unoffended. "To the Alliance perhaps...to Leia. I know how close you were to her."

Mon shivered at the realisation that he spoke to her in the past tense - as if she were already dead. Then realisation of what he'd said brought her chin up, "Leave Leia alone!"

He shook his head, bringing his steepled fingers up before his scarred face, the deep slice through his lips twisting as he smiled just slightly, "I can't do that, Mon. You started a war- you opened the floodgates."

She shook her head, "Don't blame me for your own vindictive desire for revenge."

"I have no need for further revenge - the score is settled. And in truth it was only partly that anyway; my desire to remove you coincided with your attack. The latter hid the former- bought me permission I would never otherwise have had."

She frowned, uncertain, and he tilted his head just slightly, murmuring gently though that did nothing to ease Mon's trepidation. "You see I have plans... an Empire to build. When all the obstacles are removed."

"She'll stop you." Mon said of Leia, absolutely sure.

He smiled genuinely, but in anticipation rather than agreement. "Perhaps. If anybody can then it's her... but I don't think so."

"She knows what you are."

"So did you, Mon." he said easily, "But you still let me lead you."

Mon dropped her head, rubbing at her temples, lost. He gave her the time, not speaking as she struggled to come to terms with this; the realisation that he would go after another leader, then another, then another. Hunt them down; single them out and split them from the pack then close in for the kill - like the wolf Palpatine always claimed he was.

And still he sat, mute and mild, watching her with those strangely mismatched feral eyes...

"Why?" She murmured at last, "Why do you hate us?"

He only shrugged, impassive. "I don't hate you, Mon. But as I said, I have plans - and you were in the way."

Mon lifted her chin in defiance, "How inconvenient for you."

"Yes it was. And I had no idea how to deal with it, none at all. Until you forced my hand- made it personal."

"You think removing me will make a difference but it won't - not at all. You'll only feed the fire. Leia will replace me. She'll lead the Alliance when I'm gone."

"Why Leia?" He asked, openly curious.

"She was born to lead. It's in her blood..." Mon paused, unsure why that statement seemed to interest the Sith so very much.

"Why Leia- why not Madine?"

"You know why - have you forgotten or did you never really listen?" Mon said, but he remained silent, expectant... and as good as she was, Mon fell for the oldest trick in the book and kept talking; "Madine is a General, and a good one, but he's a military man and ours is not a military organisation, no matter what we have been forced into. The military are there to support the Alliance's ideals- not to lead. Leia is a political leader therefore she can take power... Madine never could. But she's also a pragmatist- and a fighter. She'll find a way to bring your precious Empire..."

He rose, making Mon's words trail off.

"Thank-you, Mon." He said at last, his tone indicating that the conversation was finished as far as he was concerned.

"What...?" Mon Mothma rose, uncertain.

"Thank-you. Since I didn't catch Madine this time, I needed to be sure that Leia and not Madine would take command before I could move forward. Anybody else would have required an editing of my plans."

He gazed at her for long seconds, face strangely open yet completely emotionless. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, Mon - but the choices were yours, not mine."

She shook her head, "I don't regret them."

"Really?" He looked at her for a long time, eyes calculating, searching...

Luke sighed, reluctant; aware that he should simply turn and leave... but unable to do so. Whether it was to ensure his ongoing plans or simply settle his curiosity he didn't know, but he wanted, needed to do this; to make this offer. If she proved him wrong and took him up on it, he had absolutely no idea what he would do. But he still had to make it- if only to answer his own jaded conscience. "If I told you that I could help you - help the Alliance covertly - that there may be a way to work together to..."

She lifted her chin in defiance, cutting him off. "We don't need your help. We can fight our own battles."

His silence invited further comment, and Mon heard her own voice harden as she issued through clenched teeth, "I don't trust you; and nothing you can do and nothing you can say would ever make me."

Even this he seemed strangely tolerant of. "No- I thought as much... but I had to try."

He glanced back up, his smile reminding her momentarily of the idealistic boy she had known... but that effortless smile turned so easily into a feral grin, "Time to move on..."

And finally, like a bolt from the darkness, Mon Mothma put all the pieces together - his offer to pass any message on to Leia, his confidence that he could, his need to know that Leia would succeed Mon...

"You're in contact with Leia!"

"Among others." He allowed, no triumph at all in his voice. "Don't worry, Mon; she's not a traitor. She doesn't know it's me- yet."

Before she knew what she was doing, Mon had lunged forward, striking out, connecting a hard blow across his face.

He caught her hand as it left him, yanking it down to leave her defenceless, his own body tensing...

Then he smiled, though it never reached those cold eyes. "I'll give you that one, Mon - perhaps I deserve it."

She tried to pull free, but he held her wrist, grip like steel. His gaze stayed on her for a long time, contradictory emotions flitting across those disquieting, mismatched eyes.

Eventually he half-shrugged as he let her go, the action casually dismissive though there was something- some unspoken apology in the tone of his words. "Look at it this way, Mon- one way or another, you walk free of this prison in a few days. I'm serving a life sentence."

She frowned, confused at his words, but still striking out, "I hope it's an eternity."

"Every day, Mon." He assured as he turned to leave, "Every single day."

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Vader was aware of his son's approach long before the commotion began outside his quarters onboard the Executor- though commotion may have been the wrong word, as brief as it was. There were two guards in the long corridor which led to his door, its entrance closed for the night, permitting no further visitors. Vader heard the sharply spoken words then sensed the brief spike in the Force, followed by silence...

He stood, waiting for his son to enter, aware that the boys' senses were ablaze with confusion and anger.

The heavy, reinforced door ground open forcefully against its own inset bolts, not even slowing Luke as he stormed in.

"You once told me that I was beyond Light and Darkness. Why!?"

Vader kept his voice calm in the face of the boy's obvious vehemence, "Because you are everything that I once was - but you are not only my son. You are your mother's child as much as you are mine and no evil could ever come from her. If you had known her, you would know that absolutely."

Luke stared wild-eyed and disbelieving, and Vader knew it was not enough. "Because if Darkness could claim you it would have done so long ago."

"How do you know that it hasn't?" It was almost a plea, part desperation and part fear.

"You are not evil." Vader stated simply.

To hear, simply to hear those words, was a release in itself and Luke's sense and voice calmed as he took a trembling breath.

"How do you know?" he repeated.

"Darkness would not ask," Vader assured. "Darkness would not care."

Luke considered for a long time, eyes skipping the room, mind racing. "Palpatine told me I was lost- he was right."

Vader shook his head, "You are not lost. You are finding your way- finding yourself."

Luke let out a broken sigh, shaking his head, "I've surrendered everything I believed in."

"For what?"

"For..." Luke faltered, frowning.

"For everything that you now believe - everything you know." Vader finished, bass voice sure and confident. "The world is never as simple as our childhood wishes- at some point, we must all accept that truth... we must grow up and put impossible ideals behind us."

Luke glanced up, "What if I'm wrong?

"As long as you consider that possibility, then..."

Luke shook his head, unwilling to be mollified so easily, "No- that's just words. This is lives- people I..."

"Respect?" Vader said into Luke's guilt-ridden hesitance. "It is no weakness to respect your enemies."

"She isn't my enemy."

"She tried to kill you."

"Maybe she was right."

"Then why did you stop her?" Vader asked of his son; not a challenge, but a genuine request for an explanation.

Luke considered for a long time, shaking his head slowly. "Because I had to- she and others like her will just maintain the status-quo. The war will never end- old prejudices and deep wounds will always hold them apart. They've fought too long; become too entrenched, and Palpatine will always use that against them. They're lost in their ideals." He considered his words for a long time, looking for answers to the questions they posed- though all he found was further questions; "But that doesn't necessarily make them wrong."

"Nor you, for stopping them."

Luke sighed, silent again, considering. Vader too held his peace; he knew better now than to push too hard- the boy would come to his own conclusions; he always did. This was merely a sounding, a testing of his viewpoint. He glanced up at his father now, looking for confirmation as he spoke. "Palpatine's no better, his actions only fuel the extremism and he knows it- wants it. He would never negotiate but he'll never wipe them out because he doesn't want peace, only an opportunity to exercise his supremacy. We can never move forward whilst people like that hold power."

"Then change it."

Luke turned away, knowing where his father was leading him. But hadn't he considered this himself- it was after all, why he'd gone after Mothma in the first place. Was this the time to finally acknowledge it out loud? Because he couldn't do this without his father's help - or at the very least his willing disregard of Luke's actions.

He shook his head, unable to say it out loud yet, "If I removed him then whoever took power would have their own agenda."

"There is an easy way to guarantee that the Emperor's agenda is your own."

Again Luke shook his head, "No. I have no right to take power."

"If you believe the Emperor's actions unbefitting, then you should stop him. Isn't that what you had always intended to do?"

The boy remained hesitant, so Vader tried again, "You believe his actions destructive - that he should be removed from power." they were long past prevarication now; it was in neither of their characters to do so and the boy had danced on the edge of treason long enough.

Luke lifted his chin, decisive. "I believe there's no place for people like that in a new order."

"Your New Order."

"Everyones." Luke avoided.

"But you will lead it. Because no-one else can."

Luke considered, eyes down, lost in thought.

"You will do what has to be done." Vader continued, voice very sure, pushing his son on, only now able to nudge Luke into the path Vader had chosen for him four years ago- and so of course for himself. "You will always do that- it is in your nature; you will look for a path, you will find a way and you will make it happen. You will make it happen- that is when stubbornness is a strength. You will never shy away from what needs to be done."

His son remained silent for long seconds, eyes to the floor as his mind raced; were he able, Vader would have held his breath in rapt anticipation. Luke frowned, mismatched eyes hidden beneath a thoughtful scowl... then he nodded; just once, but firmly, the decision finally made, the path committed to... for both of them - together. And just like that, in the single nod of a head, four years of anticipation came to fruition for Vader.

"I'll broker peace." Luke said at last, a challenge in his voice for his father to disagree with his ultimate intent.

"Your peace." Vader underlined. "Your way."

"My way." Luke confirmed, and Vader smiled beneath is mask, aware of the significance of the moment - that this was the first time that they had come to any accord in this. That he could finally move forward with his son at his side.

If the boy wanted some invented belief to ease his conscience, then let him have it. When he held power, when he realised what he could do - that all previous barriers were eradicated - he would reconsider. But those barriers must first be removed. "And the Emperor?"

Luke remained silent for a long time, his face and sense slowly hardening to Vader's searching perceptions as he finally acknowledged the necessary truth.

"He doesn't feature." Luke stated calmly, "At all."

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