Into the Storm

Chapter 15

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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Mara was shaking her head, staring at the multiple screens of the ops room as call-ins sounded from various Royal Guard units. Everyone checked out--everyone.

"He's not in the Guard's uniform," she announced, not looking from the images, very sure. "He's taken it off."

"Which means he's back in his own clothes," Palpatine said slowly, considering.

Mara flinched just slightly at the powerful inrush of the Force as he gathered it to him, razor sharp, uncompromisingly accurate...if one knew how to interpret it.

She turned, expectant.

"He's still reasonably close by...nowhere near the Main Palace yet."

Mara turned back to the image of the Tower schematic, still trying to figure out how he was moving down without being detected...

The South Tower was completely shut down, all personnel confined to rooms, no window or door alarms tripped... how was he getting past them?

"He's not outside?" she asked, uncertain.

Palpatine opened cold yellow eyes to her and she knew that she'd made an error in questioning his statement, and turned her gaze down in apology.

He didn't deign to reply.

"He won't leave the Corellian. No matter how far he's come in the last few weeks, that goal will remain--he wouldn't desert his comrade." Palpatine spat the last, derisive.

Mara turned--and her master burst into a wide, predatory smile.

"And there is my answer--carefully stored for just this occasion." Mara stared, aware that her own confused expression was simply highlighting his satisfaction. "Have the Corellian brought up--take him to Skywalker's quarters. A full detachment is to escort him."

She nodded, realizing now what her master intended.

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Palpatine was still perusing the finer points of his plan--how exactly to get the smuggler to scream strongly enough that his reaction would send a wonderfully unignorable ripple through the Force to Skywalker--when Mara's alarm burst through his musings.

"Mara?" he prompted, voice low and threatening.

She turned slowly from the console. "He's not there. There was a supposed..."

"What?"

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Han worked his way with forced nonchalance through the wide walkways of the MainPalace, heading for Level one-six-one, as instructed.

The jacket he'd taken from his now-unconscious comlink donor had turned out to be about three sizes too small, but he'd stuck with it mainly because he now had black grease smeared all over his shirt from having to shimmy up the droid access hatch at the top of the turbolift shaft.

With his usual luck, the Detention Center turbolifts stopped one level before the public access levels began--evidently, the Empire did have some smart designers after all. They'd even put a charged shield over the droid access shaft--which the kid had assured him he'd already disabled with some borrowed security clearance. Staying in the turbolift whilst the doors opened onto the guarded, two-level intersection between the Detention Center and the Palace wasn't an option since he didn't have a blaster, and anyway, this was apparently supposed to be quiet getaway.

On the few military channels he could get on his stolen comlink, all hell seemed to be breaking loose in the Towers, but here on the admin levels in the Main Palace--the public face of the center of the Empire--all seemed ship-shape and glass-smooth...more or less

Not many people around though--and the high administration-personnel to white-armor ratio was very disconcerting. Or it had been...now it seemed to be settling out. Whatever the kid was doing, it sure was attracting a lot of attention elsewhere--which made Han's progress easier, but he got the feeling he wouldn't like the price.

Still, Luke seemed pretty confident and appeared to have everything under control; in fact Han's only job at this point was to get up to Level one-six-one.

It was all going way too smoothly...

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The Emperor remained still and silent in the back of the room as Mara slowly deciphered the facts.

The Detention Level guards said they were in contact with Ops 90, who had logged their level's blast-shield errors and were sending a team down. It wasn't at all unusual for them to receive contacts or commands from Ops rooms around that level; Commander Jade often requested updates and gave orders to move a certain prisoner around from any of the Ops rooms around those levels, they had defended.

Which was true--though how Skywalker knew this was...another stray memory came sharply to Mara's mind--of Skywalker standing before the windows in the drawing room the day after he had decimated the contents of the bedroom and claiming coolly that he could read her mind, despite her shields. Could he? Or was it just coincidence?

He'd seemed so brittle that day, so uncharacteristically sharp that she had dismissed it as a simple dig, an attempt to get under her skin. She was after all trained to be able to hide her thoughts from Vader--Palpatine had taken great care with that--and she knew she had never let her guard down with Skywalker to that extent.

"Bring up the security image of Ops 90," her master prompted, bringing her thoughts back to the moment.

"That security lens is down, Excellency," the duty officer admitted, his voice small.

Which went towards explaining one important fact, Mara knew; the simple reason that they couldn't work out how Luke was moving down through the Tower without being spotted, was that he hadn't been moving. Why was a different question.

"So he went up, not down," Palpatine finally grated, voice leaden with barely-controlled anger.

Mara reached out to the console and pulled up the images from the corridor outside Ops 90, taking them backwards at high-speed.

The brief flash of two figures made her halt the image, playing it back several times as she studied it, dumbstruck. At first glance, it was an officer and what looked like an aide in civilian clothes--but obviously wasn't Skywalker.

Still, she studied it closely--they were the last two people to walk into that room. It didn't take much to realize that the officer was Skywalker, now that she was looking for him...but the other man...

"Is that Solo?" she finally asked, squinting, aware that the Corellian was no longer in his cell.

She paused the image; the man stood with his back to the surveillance lens, Skywalker's hand to the small of his back, but it sure as hell looked like Solo. Which prompted the question...how did Skywalker get him up there?

And what the hell were they doing now?

Palpatine interrupted her thoughts. "Start to bring the Guards up from the lower levels. No less than ten per unit--if he fights his way out, then I want to at least hear it. Don't put them too close until you have enough to contain him--and nobody moves until I get there."

Mara nodded at her master, a thought occurring as he turned to the door, face like thunder. "Master, what about Solo?"

"His life is forfeit either way. It always was--it was just a matter of when. If it's possible to keep him alive so that I can do this myself, then all the better. If not, then do what you have to do in order to control Skywalker. A body-shot to Solo without killing him would slow them both down."

Mara nodded, turning back to the ops board to redeploy guards again. When she'd organized their progress by squads up to Ops 90, she took the time to stand down the security alert from the Main Palace and begin bringing stormtroopers up to the Tower from there. She wanted every available body up in the South Tower and around Skywalker.

This whole event had been a series of fiascos, being led by Skywalker from one carefully placed misdirection to another, and Palpatine didn't even begin to realize the extent of her own unwilling involvement in it yet. Mara wasn't about to let Skywalker get away again.

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"Luke?" Han was trying his best to look innocuous and run at the same time, not quite succeeding at either, but near enough on both.

"What?" It was the kid, sounding about as worried as Han felt right now.

"I think something's going on down here. There's a lot more people about all of a sudden. And a lot less armor."

There was a long pause, and Han wondered why it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The kid's voice, when he finally spoke, did nothing to ease Han's nervousness.

"That's okay--it's planned for. You should ha...a clea...run to Lev...six-one now. Move fast."

Han frowned. "You're cutting out. Is your comlink okay?"

"Hol...on. Yeah, I thin...jus...power levels. I managed to get the...one..dying a death. Maybe....stop.. .....ster."

"Yeah, I didn't get any of that last bit."

"How's this? I said mayb...if you stopp...complaining, you might get ther...faster."

"I'm here now--I see the landing bay door. See, some of us can do two things at once, junior," Han crowed, carried along by the adrenaline of finally doing something. "Where are you?"

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Up in the Ops room, Luke released his hold on the cut-out of his comm again.

"I'm on level fifteen in the South Tower, just inside the landing bay you saw up here." Luke was glad this was over the comm--he wasn't sure he could have lied so easily face-to-face. Not even for this. "You should be able to just key open the door of the bay where you are. I bypassed the security earlier on from up here."

Ignoring Arco's curious gaze, Luke checked the already-pulled image from the North Landing Bay on Level one-six-one as Han walked inside, the wide doors sliding shut behind him as he brought his comlink to his mouth.

"Luke? I'm...hey, where's the Falcon?"

Luke smiled, unfazed; he'd been expecting this, had planned for it. It just wasn't worth the amount of hassle that he would otherwise get if he didn't somehow seem to get Han's precious Falcon free too.

"I'm looking at it right now--it's up here in the Tower," he lied.

"You kidding me! Stay right there, I'm coming up!"

Luke could practically see his friend's grin, and it was infectious--but he couldn't let it interfere with the plan. Or his resolve. "There is no way in a million years you're getting up into the Tower, Solo. You know the security." As he spoke, Luke feathered the cut-out on his comlink again, so the signal was interrupted. But Han got enough.

"What? No way am I leaving here without her."

"I'll fly her. You need to take one of the shuttles in the bay you're in, now--that's why you're there"

"These! These are for kids and bored data-pushers."

"Exactly. No one's gonna look twice. Now pick one--I'm on a schedule here." Luke watched the small image of Han as he dropped the comlink to his side and rolled his head in frustration.

But even he knew better than to argue in a building packed full of stormtroopers, so he glanced around, starting forward. "How's the Falcon?"

"I'm not onboard yet. I'll give you a shout when I am," Luke lied. "Now get one of those executive toys and get out of there. I've unlocked bay three, seven, eight and nine. Take your pick."

Luke continued to feather the comlink as he spoke, aware of Arco's puzzled eyes on him. He glanced down, winking secretively at the man, more for his own sanity than anything else, deeply uncomfortable with the lie, but absolutely believing it necessary.

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Han was just into the fastest-looking of the four painfully average skyhoppers when his comlink sparked to life again.

"Han, I'm on board the Falcon. I've just started pre-flight. I think I may need to go to full power pretty quick."

He scrabbled for his comlink. "He, don't mess up my ship! You fly her too hard!"

"Me? That's rich!"

"And don't let her get messed up either--don't let anyone shoot at her."

"Thanks--I'll try to remember that," the voice came back dryly.

"Hey, there has been a precedent set," Han maintained, balancing his comlink on the pilot's seat of the shuttle as he wrenched the under-board panel free.

"Two incident.. is not.. precedent," came the kid's voice, clipped by his weak com signal.

"Three more like. Four if you count the one on Ord Mantell," Han shouted towards the comlink without lifting it, concentrating on pulling out carefully selected wires from below the pilot's console.

"Uh-uh," the kid denied. "They were shooting at you that time--I jus...happen...to be flying."

"How's she looking?" Han asked, stripping insulation from wires with his teeth.

"A lot of systems ar...down... What the...ell wer...you doing on Bespin? Lightspeed.. whole comm syste... navigat...nal shields and quad gun...ar...all out. She's runnin...on low power too. I think there's somethi... wrong with the main thrusters. But she'll fly."

That stopped Han dead. "What!? She was fine when I left her on Bespin. Just the hyperdrive."

"Hey, I didn'...touch her--I wasn't even flying."

"Well, maybe you should have been, and then she..."

"This is so very not th...time."

Han scowled, spitting out bits of insulation and connecting bared components, not at all happy with this--he'd rather be on the Falcon. "Luke? Bring her down and land here--pick me up."

"I told you, I'm on the Falco...now," Luke repeated. "I don't have access to th...command codes or to any ops system to deactivate th...heavy shields aroun...the Tower or the Main Palace. I'll try to...et the Falcon down to you if you want, but it ha...limited shields an... dodgy main drive."

Han sighed, frustrated, knowing the kid was right. "Okay, okay. Can you get her out from where you are?"

"Yeah, I'd already unlock...this bay. I have a straigh...line out of here... Clear flight headin...due south."

"Fine--take her straight out, we'll meet up. Don't get her shot up any worse."

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In the ops room Luke sighed, relieved. He'd worried that Han would be more stubborn, but he should have known. They kidded around and bickered when they were nervous, but the smuggler was far smarter than to argue tactics in the middle of a situation like this--just get out and sort the small stuff later. "I opened the bay shields for you before I left ops. Take a shuttle and head due north, I'll catch up."

"I'm already hotwiring one. Sporty little thing--figure I'll sell it to make the repairs to the Falcon."

Luke grinned. "Fine. Are you out yet?"

"Hey, even I'm not that fast!"

There was a long pause, in which Luke took a moment to split his attention to the corridors outside, wondering whether the Main Palace's stormtroopers had made it up into the Tower yet. Presumably they'd figured out where he was by now, and hopefully they thought Han was with him, otherwise they wouldn't have started pulling stormtroopers from the Main Palace as Han had said; they'd still be searching for Solo--and probably would have found him eventually, considering their numbers. This way, Han had a clear run and Luke had a warning of when they...

His heart double-skipped, realization leaving him numb for an instant.

There were guards all around him. Easily over a hundred. Above, below, to all sides. Well back, but waiting...

"Might want to hurry it up there, Han," he said breathlessly.

"What's your rush?" Han cracked. "You're already in the Falcon--just take off."

"I already have. I'm turning about to head north. Are you out yet?" Time to get him moving.

Luke watched on the monitor as the small skimmer lift unsteadily in the bay far below, righted itself, then shot forward like a spooked womprat. An instant of scarlet panic struck when it occurred to Luke that if they knew where he was, they may have checked through any commands issued from Ops 90, and reinstated the security shield to Han's bay... but the skimmer took off unharmed--and he breathed a long sigh. He just needed one more minute to wrap this up...

"Luke? I'm scanning, but I can't pick you up. Do you know which flight corridor you're in?" It was Han, all concern.

Luke forced himself to concentrate on this--everything else could wait. He wanted Han safely away. He'd known, of course, that the chances of getting himself out were almost zero; known that if he tried to split his attention between getting free and getting all the way down to Han in the Main Palace to get him free, he would have accomplished neither.

He also knew that tactically, he'd thrown away his only real chance; that Master Yoda would have despaired of him for it, and Han wouldn't have co-operated if he'd known. But this wasn't Han's fight, it was his, and try as he might, Luke couldn't watch him be dragged in. They'd been through too much together for too many years. Han had always been his big brother, always looking out for him... Well, now it was Luke's turn.

That had always been his goal here; to get Han out.

And anyway, he had a perfectly rational reason for this, he assured himself; he'd wanted that leverage removed. His father was right--friends were a weakness, and Palpatine would exploit any weakness remorselessly.

But something whispered at the edges of his mind... and Luke couldn't help thinking he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life, in swapping his own chance at freedom for Han's.

"Luke? Kid?" It was Han, still jabbering into the comm, his voice a mix of concern and exasperation.

Luke smiled, calm again now at the sound of Han's voice; at his anxiety for Luke, at the absolute belief that Han would have done the same, were the situation reversed. At his knowledge that Han would understand, eventually. He took a short breath and sighed, at ease with his decisions and his fate.

"Sorry, Han, my comlink's nearly out of juice." He continued to feather the comm, more and more now. "Do you have your skimmer's call-sign? Actually, don't say that on the open comm. Listen, do you remember that safe harbor? I can get to that easily. Meet there?"

"It'll take me a coupla' days in this." Han's voice was uneasy now.

"It's still the best way," Luke said firmly, offering a possibility to draw him on. "We might catch up when we get out of the built-up shipping lanes anyway. I'll probably find you well before--or more likely you'll find me."

"I guess..." Han was silent a few seconds. "Is everything okay there?"

"It is now," Luke assured, and in that moment, he genuinely meant it. "You have a comm frequency to make base contact, don't you," he checked, not wishing to speak of the Rebellion by name, sure all frequencies would be routinely monitored.

"Sure. But you'll get there a full day before me anyway."

The lies came easy now, Luke's mind very clear. "The Falcon's comm system is down, remember? I'll hit autopilot as soon as I can, and spend some time on it. Maybe I'll get it working. If I do, I'll comm you first. You should contact them as soon as it's safe to anyway, though. Check Leia and Chewie are okay. Besides, you may well get there ahead of me--she's running at about..." He paused, as if checking status, "well, I've got a reading of fifty-four percent power on 'interat thrust. I'm surprised you can't see me. You are going north?"

"I think I know how to fly north, kid." Han's offense at having his flying ability brought into question belayed any misgivings for the moment. "Listen, there's a cantina just off the main square called the Third Strike. I'll see you there, okay?"

"Okay, Han." Luke smiled, hearing that protective tone come into Han's voice; like a big brother again.

"You need to contact a Sluissi called Karrick and ask him for a 'quiet bay'--exactly that. And whatever he asks as docking fee, offer him half. Feel free to do some of that Jedi mind stuff if you have to. And nothin' up front...tell him you weren't born yesterday--you just look that way."

Luke smiled, but he knew time was running out, much as he wanted to just stay hidden and keep talking like this. It would probably be the last friendly voice he would hear for a long time.

"Don't worry," he said, as much to himself as to Han.

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Sitting at the controls of the poky little skimmer, carefully keeping to the official speed limit and flight line, Han frowned, "I always worry with you,"

He realized he was still scanning the horizon, hoping to see the Falcon--and notbecause he was worried about the ship.

"You may be the only one, Han," the kid replied, and Han wondered at the melancholy note in his voice.

The com crackled for long seconds before the kid spoke again. "...Listen, I think m.. comm's finally dying... if ...can you sti...see you...few day...Take care, Han..."

Han scowled at the comm as the signal faded into static, unable to brush off the uneasy feeling which burned in the pit of his stomach.

How had he ended up allowing the kid to talk him into making this journey separately? They should have just landed anywhere and both boarded the Falcon--they could have fixed her, they always did. Now, with the Falcon's comm system down, he had no way of contacting Luke until they both got to the Third Strike cantina

In that same instant, Han saw a YT freighter in the distance and jolted upright at the stick, only to realize it was a much later model than the Falcon.

Stop panicking, Solo, he berated himself roundly, before announcing out loud to the empty cockpit, "What the hell kinda trouble can the kid possibly get up to in one day?"

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Luke stared into nothing for a long time before finally placing the deactivated comlink gently down on the desk. He glanced at the Intel officer, who watched him in silence, understanding now what he'd done.

There were no external views available, so that when Han's ship had left the bay it was gone, leaving Luke to stare at the internal image of the still bay, aware only now of how truly alone he was here.

He wasn't worried that Han would come back for him; he would fly all the way to the Tyren Islands and wait for Luke there, as arranged. He would contact the Rebellion while he waited, as arranged, because he knew they'd have to get off-planet as soon as possible...and then Leia would tell him the truth.

She would tell him who Luke really was, and maybe Han would fly off the handle and rant and rave, but he'd go back to the Rebellion to pick up Chewie, by which time he would have calmed down, so Leia would talk some sense into him...eventually. And he'd stay, Luke hoped. Chewie would be fine with that--the Wookiee often admitted wryly that he was a sucker for a hard-luck story, and the Rebel Alliance was the archetypal lost cause. And anyway, it sounded like Han and Leia had finally decided to call a truce.

Funny--he had everything figured out for everyone else, but no idea what he was supposed to do next. It was amazing how quickly all those hopes and plans had fallen apart in this place...

All he knew was that he was, once again, completely and utterly alone in the universe.

He struggled with the uneasy mix of pride and frustration at having accomplished his goals so effortlessly; relief that he'd gotten Han out and uncertainty at the niggling doubt that he should have tried for more. But this had gone so smoothly only because he'd kept to realistic goals, he knew. Unexpected goals.

It could so easily have been a fiasco--there was no way he would have gotten out of here, he knew that. No way he could have gotten all the way down to Han before they moved him, or had enough guards in place to stop Luke. It just felt strangely empty, to have had all his careful planning work so perfectly...yet he was still here.

He dragged his injured left hand through his cropped hair...and wrenched it back, suddenly realizing how much it hurt as his adrenaline waned.

Realizing how exhausted he was, mentally and physically.

He really hadn't planned past this point--this was the end objective...

What did he do now?

The answer, strangely, was to duck. That message blared out loud and clear through the Force and he obeyed without question, grabbing the scruff of Arco's shirt and dragging him down beneath the console--

The wall exploded back towards him in a violent storm of fine debris, fragments stinging at his face and body despite the protection of the console, dust choking him as it clouded up, the room thrown into darkness as the sprinkler system came on.

His ears sang a single tone, bright sparks exploding before his eyes, reality a distant haze for long seconds... Finally he dragged himself up, grabbing at the swaying Arco and hauling the officer before himself, his blaster to the Imperial's head.

It took long, long seconds for the sprinklers to bring down the haze of fine, grimy dust--longer still for Luke to blink his own gritty vision into clarity.

The ops-room wall was completely gone, leaving it open into the wide corridor beyond, everything covered with dust and debris. A three-deep row of Royal Guards had run into the corridor as I had settled and were still now, weapons trained.

"We both know that you won't shoot him, and we both know that I'll not let you use him as a shield. I'll kill him myself before I'll do that." Palpatine's voice was hard and grating, barely-controlled anger all too evident.

He stepped slowly out into view, raven black against the wall of blood red cloaks of the Royal Guards, the scene eerily quiet to Luke's explosion-shocked ears. But he didn't really need to hear the Emperor's voice to know his words. Or his temper.

"Where is your precious friend?" Palpatine ground out, and Luke recognized that he must have only now realized that Han and Luke weren't together.

He glanced at the control console, a twisted wreck now. Either they'd saved Luke the trouble of destroying the only way they could possibly track Han, or they'd already pulled a dump of exactly what he'd done in here before they set off the explosive charge, which seemed unlikely, since Palpatine had asked where Han was. "What, you don't have him?"

The Sith's eyes narrowed at the taunt. "You should have run."

"I know," Luke said, knowing it absolutely now, but determined not to regret his decision.

Something's about to happen...

He glanced about the devastated room, for what, he didn't know... Palpatine took a half-step forward and Luke raised the blaster in his hand, pressing it against Arco's throat.

The Emperor only smiled. "Shoot him if you wish. You may gain some degree of satisfaction from it, if nothing else."

Luke heard the man's breath hitch in his throat at this, felt him tense in fear...

He relaxed his gun again. "I'm no murderer."

"Never leave an enemy at your back."

He wants me to kill him! Luke let his hold on the man loosen, felt Arco's wire-tight shoulders relax slightly.

He was almost, almost, drawn into the argument. But some tiny sliver of warning still worried at his thoughts...

Why isn't he coming forward? Why is he keeping me talking?

He looked again at the Sith, reaching out with the Force to touch that grim, unrelenting Darkness, no longer the jarring shock it had once been, no longer completely closed to him, and sensed...expectation; preparation... Darkness gathered to him, held in anticipation...in defense...

The tingle of warning in the back of Luke's mind turned into a blaring shock of realization and he dropped back to a crouch, pulling Arco down in the same moment as he pushed out with the Force instinctively, sensing Palpatine's own Force-shields raise that same instant...

The wall close behind Luke exploded with a jolt of phenomenal intensity, its fragmenting mass thrown against his hastily prepared Force-shield with incredible power and energy, whiting out his thoughts in shock--

Then blackness...

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To be continued...

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