Into the Storm

Chapter 7

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CHAPTER SEVEN

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Luke paced his opulent prison uneasily, hardly aware of the guard at the door anymore, waiting the arrival of his visitor with equal parts trepidation and enthusiasm.

The bad-tempered redhead had spent the morning guarding him today, sitting on one of the chairs at the windows rather than standing by the door, her hard eyes fixing on him every time he so much as moved. Finally she'd ordered a replacement at midday when summoned by Palpatine, returning briefly to tell him that his request of the previous evening--to see his companion--had been allowed by the Emperor.

And Luke had again sensed that crosscurrent, that whisper in the Force about her, hidden completely when she was with the Emperor, smothered by that all-encompassing shroud of Darkness. But here, alone. some barely discernable focus traced the edge of his awareness, so light as to be almost imperceptible.

"What are you?" he'd asked at last, knowing that she'd understand the question.

"Huh, wouldn't you like to know," she'd huffed, lifting her chin.

He'd tried setting his head on one side, expression open. "Yes. You're not a Jedi...or Sith."

"You think that puts me beneath you?" she'd challenged, green eyes ablaze.

"You appear to be the one holding the gun."

"That's right, and don't you forget it."

He'd held her gaze steadily, the slight smile staying on his lips, and she'd glanced away, seeming suddenly embarrassed at the needless threat.

"I'll get your visitor," she'd muttered, leaving Luke to stare at the door as it cycled closed, no longer noticing the stony-faced guards who stood to either side of it.

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It was now mid-afternoon and no one else had been back to the room. And patience wasn't exactly one of Luke's strong suits.

He sat on the arm of the chair gazing out into the distant city, rubbing his temples against the constant headache he'd had for the last three days. At first, he'd tried to dismiss it as Coruscant--that it was simply something about the planet that was causing it, some barometric pressure--but slowly he'd come to recognize that it intensified with proximity to Palpatine, or with his own use of the Force, when the pressure closed in about him like a wavefront, constricting about his mind with massive, focused pressure.

Focused; as a conscious act. A pointed discouragement from the Emperor against using the Force. Or perhaps simply a method of knowing when he did? Though he'd felt no such disturbance from his fath... from Vader.

The truth was he had absolutely no idea...and that was the real problem; neither Ben nor Yoda had ever mentioned it, or anything else of real substance about the Dark side, save to avoid it at all costs, which seemed pretty academic here, Luke reflected wryly. And that left him guessing, in a place where guesswork was a dangerous thing. Left him uncertain, in a situation where he knew that confidence in one's convictions was everything.

He sighed, rubbing his closed eyes so hard he saw sparks in his vision--anything to alleviate the pressure. He felt tired and drawn, having shocked awake in the early hours just before dawn, absolutely sure in that moment that someone had shouted out his name. Wide awake, he'd glanced about the dark shadows of the cavernous, unfamiliar room searching for the source. But of course there'd been nothing there, only the lingering shadows of some intense nightmare, lost to him now.

Unable to settle again, he'd risen and dressed to stand alone in the room for once before the tall thick transparisteel windows and watch the sun rise, desperately hungry.

Meditation was becoming difficult, the jarring pressure weighing down on him dulling mind and senses both and leaving him uneasy and frustrated. Eventually he'd stopped trying, instead laying back on the cold marble floor, its cool against the healing scar on his back comforting through the fine silk of his slate gray shirt, his knees pulled up as he gazed at the distant, heavily carved and coffered ceiling, contemplating how many places there were to hide surveillance lenses up there and wondering if there were any dead-spots in the room. Wondering what his observers were thinking of his bizarre behavior right now.

Wondering how he was going to explain the deal he'd made to his friends. How he was going to explain to Han that he had to remain. Questioning whether he should back out now while he still could, knowing that was what they would tell him to do.

Were they right?

Eventually the doors had cycled open and the redhead had strode in, watching him with raised eyebrows where he lay on the cool floor, clearly thinking him completely insane.

Luke had scrabbled up quickly. "I was... ah, your opinion of me can't get any worse, anyway," he'd reasoned aloud, bringing the slightest hint of an amused smile to her lips a she'd turned away to sit on the chair before the windows.

It was late afternoon when the doors finally grated open with the release of multiple bolts. Eight stormtroopers lock-stepped into the room, the first Luke had seen since arriving here. They about-turned smartly and marched out to leave a bound and wary Han Solo standing alone before the closing doors.

"Han!" Luke launched forward, in that moment so pleased to see his friend that all his guilty misgivings were forgotten.

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"Luke--Kid!" Han practically yelped the words, shocked once by seeing the kid in one piece, and again by his surroundings. He stepped forward, but was forced to stop uneasily as he lifted his still-bound hands before him, the reality of their situation quickly and effectively reminded.

Refusing to be cowed, he glanced around the room. "Wow. Wanna swap? I think my room's about as big as that bed and my bunk consists of a solid ridge coming out of the wall with a 'fresher built into the end of it."

"Nice," the kid said, falling easily back into their familiar banter. "Classy."

"And convenient," Han quipped. "Don't need to go too far in the middle of the night."

Luke nodded, grinning. "Again, a good point."

"I thought so. Could do with...hey, your hand!" Han belatedly realized that Luke was resting his right hand in his left, cradling it subconsciously. The kid looked down, his voice distant.

"Yeah, they...replaced it." He held it up for inspection, moving his fingers awkwardly as Han studied the prosthetic.

He held back from asking the obvious--why had they fixed it--and if the kid knew, he didn't offer. "Feel weird?" he prompted instead, still staring at the hand; it was a perfect replica, minutely detailed--a very expensive piece of kit.

Luke only shrugged uneasily, clearly not wanting to talk about this now.

Taking the hint, Han glanced around again. "I thought I was coming to see Palpatine, considering the setting. Didn't expect to see you here."

The unspoken question made Luke's smile drop. "Maybe he thinks he can buy me..."

Han nodded, glancing about; seemed reasonable--it would probably explain the hand, too. And the kid's clothes, which made even Lando seem poverty-stricken by comparison.

His next question shocked Luke, though he hadn't meant it to. "Can he?"

"No!" Luke upheld, visibly hurt at Han's words.

"Just..." Han paused, not sure why he'd even bothered to ask, aware of how much he'd just hurt the kid. "Sorry. I dunno..."

Luke stared at the floor and Han shifted uneasily a moment before moving the conversation on. "Have you seen Chewie and Leia?"

"No, haven't you?" There was instant concern in Luke's voice.

"No, they split us up. Different cells. Hollered myself hoarse but I think the cells are soundproof."

"They're here somewhere. But I..." Kid paused, suddenly guilty.

Han scowled. "Luke?"

Luke hesitated, his every movement that of someone looking to get something over with. "I...made a deal. With Palpatine. That in return..."

That was as far as he got.

"You made a deal? With Palpatine! What..." Words failed Han for a second--but just for a second. "Kid, he's not gonna stick to any deal."

Luke shook his head, rushing to explain. "He has to fulfill his part of the deal first, or it's null and void. Han, I had to."

"Had to? What the hell does that mean? You just told me he couldn't buy you, and now you're saying..."

"Han, listen...please--"The kid sounded like he was trying to validate his actions as much to himself as to Han. "Palpatine agreed to release everyone except one person, in exchange for my staying."

"Staying?" Some of the fire went out of Han's eyes at the realization of what Luke had done, but he was still seething.

"For twelve weeks. I stay here for twelve weeks."

"And then what? You think he's gonna just let you go?"

"No. But he wasn't going to do that anyway," Kid said wryly.

Han softened a little at that, knowing that the kid had no real choice; that he'd tried to make the best out of a raw deal in a bad situation. Gain something out of nothing. "I dunno. Twelve weeks is a long time, Luke."

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Luke remained silent for long moments. Only now, when someone else voiced that fear, was he becoming aware of just how long it really was.

The thought that Luke had been dreading finally occurred to Han. "Who stays?"

Luke didn't look up, unable in that moment to meet Han's eye, ashamed of the fact that the decision had been made, that Luke had agreed. Wishing--hoping that his friend would...

"I'll stay," Han said firmly, meaning it.

The relief escaped Luke in a quiet sigh and he blinked slowly, thankful for Han's good heart. He nodded gently, still wracked with guilt, unable to speak in that moment.

Probably realizing he'd made an impossible decision for his friend, Han reached out to put a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder, his other having to follow somewhat comically because of the binders.

"Hey, it'll be just like old times, huh? Remember that crappy dead-end planet we had to hang around on? The one where we had the cook-outs every night 'cos your stupid friend was five days late with that detonator shipment?"

Luke could only laugh at that. "You make it sound so rosy," he said dryly.

"Well, y'know...it wouldn't have been. But we made it okay. Me and you. We're a good team." Suddenly very embarrassed at his momentary camaraderie, Han made light again. "And besides, I'm charging the Rebellion for this. Hourly rate. And after the first ten hours, I'm on overtime. Plus danger money."

Luke smiled. "You can bill me."

"Yeah, like you got that kinda currency," Han dismissed easily, glancing around again. "But see that painting there? If we take that with us when we leave, I'll call it even."

Luke glanced at the huge painting of a night battle under moons and stars, realizing that he too vaguely recognized it--which meant it really must be incredibly well known.

"Fine," he said, judging the size of the massive canvas, about twice his height and four times that length. "But you're carrying it."

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"We need a comlink," Leia said, breathless from running, mind still swimming at the outrageous events of the day.

"We need a ship," Lando corrected, glancing meaningfully back to the spaceport as they huddled back into the shadows of the side street.

"If you get me a comlink, I can get us a ship," Leia said.

Lando turned back to her. "Hard as I find it to refuse those big brown eyes, I'd like to point out that in order to get us a comlink, I'm gonna have to steal it, and if I'm going to steal a comlink to get us a ride, I may as well just steal a ship, right?"

He glanced up at Chewie for support and the Wookiee keened, his nodding head indicting that it made perfect sense to him.

"Stealing a comlink and stealing a ship are not the same thing," Leia maintained.

"I beg to differ. If someone's fool enough to leave a factory-standard locking system on a valuable item--" Lando began, but Leia cut him off.

"Just get a comlink, okay?"

Lando looked at her for long seconds, clearly sure he was right... "Fine," he said at last. "Chewie?"

They disappeared from sight and Leia was left to draw back into the shadows of the busy Cat Dato Spaceport, glancing around nervously, expecting to see that familiar white armor any second.

Worrying where Han and Luke were...

She, Lando and Chewie had been taken from their cells and grouped together into a prison transport at some point in the early hours of the morning. Each relieved to see the other, their excited whispers had ceased as they tried to listen to the stormtroopers speaking to the pilots outside.

It had become obvious pretty quickly that they were heading on a long trip--

"Twenty-four days," Leia had whispered.

"Twenty-four days! That can't be right," Lando murmured, frowning. "Maybe that's the round trip?"

Chewie whuffed a reply--the first time Leia ever remembered his doing anything quietly--and Lando nodded knowingly.

"Kessel's about that from here, in this small transport," he translated, voice tight with trepidation.

Leia frowned at the mention of the Emperor's favored gulag, eyes searching the stormtroopers at the bottom of the ship's ramp. Why take them to Kessel? She'd expected a very public execution designed to clarify for all that there was no escaping Imperial justice. Why this? Disappearing off the face of the galaxy to a prison planet in the back of beyond?

Any further discussion had been cut short by the arrival of eight stormtroopers in the hold, all of whom appeared about as happy to be making this trip as Leia was.

Twelve hours later they'd made a stop off in what turned out to be Cat Dato Spaceport on Neimoidia, where the stormtroopers watching them had risen and walked casually down the ramp to stretch their legs, and to speak to another two who were waiting, a Bothan prisoner in tow--and Leia decided it was all the opportunity she needed.

"Chewie... "

Although they were the only prisoners there, several empty rows of hard seats in front of and behind them, they had been sat in line on a single row, an unbelievable opportunity. Leia was in the center, held sitting by a long, meaty restraint bar which ran through holders in the arms of their row of seats, her and everyone else's wrist binders tethered by threading the same bar through them, effectively tying their hands and holding them seated at the same time.

There was no way Leia could have broken her own binders, nor Chewie his--which were considerably thicker--but Leia had spent the last four hours wondering whether Chewie could break the metal cord on her human-scaled binders, and trying to communicate that fact to him with elbow nudges and meaningful glances.

He reached over now, able to slide his own binders along the continuous bar to the edge of his seat as she did the same with hers. Taking her binder cable in his huge hands he heaved it apart, bulky muscles knotting to massive lumps in his powerful arms...

It took four attempts before it sheared away, making Chewie's own binders clatter noisily against the bar as they pulled taut. Everyone froze, glancing nervously at the ramp...

Hands now free to lift above her head, Leia had been able to shimmy like a limbo dancer beneath the bar at her lap, struggling to squeeze her shoulders past and turning her head to one side as she nimbly slipped free.

She headed immediately for the cockpit, knowing the two pilots were likely armed but preferring her chances against them rather than against the stormtroopers at the bottom of the ramp.

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Lando, who had watched all this with a mix of fascination and surprise, was left to glance up to Chewie... It took seconds to get his priorities in order. "D'you think she'd do that shimmy thing again if I asked her nicely?" he said, making the Wookiee grin.

Moments later when the arm catches which held the long bar in place released on some automated system, enabling Lando and Chewie to step free and slide their own binders off as quietly as possible.

Lando headed to the cockpit to give the Princess a quick prompt, and as she'd followed him out she'd passed Chewie, and dropped one of the two blaster she was holding into his massive hands.

"Hey, don't I get one?" Lando whispered.

"Sure, there's ten of them with the stormtroopers at the base of the ramp--help yourself," Leia nodded dryly, edging forward.

It had been no contest at all. No one was expecting them to be free, let alone armed, and by the time they'd stood back up from crouching down on the ramp, the only one left standing was the Bothan prisoner.

Lando fumbled on one of the stormtroopers for the keycard to their binders, sliding it over his own before throwing it to Leia, who released the broken remains of her binders before turning to Chewie.

"Quickly," Leia ordered. "There'll be reinforcements on the way." They'd been pretty fast, but hardly quiet.

Lando had bobbed down again to help himself to a blaster, and when he he stood he met the wide eyes of the shocked Bothan prisoner, its fur rippling every which way as proof of its confusion.

"Your lucky day, pal," Lando said with a wink, making Leia roll her eyes as she handed the keycard to the Bothan.

"Lando, we're leaving," she prompted, as they set off out of the bay to lose themselves in the bustle of the spaceport, leaving the Bothan staring after them, open-mouthed, still holding the keycard.

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Leia was still stood in the street,aware that she probably looked out of placce in padded cold-weather gear on the dry, arid planet, when Lando stepped silently up behind her, making her jump.

"One comlink, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," she scalded, thoughts instantly turning to Han as she tried to concentrate on re-tuning the comlink. "This is nine-nine-two-zero-five, I need immediate evac, repeat, immediate evac. Contact me on this channel as soon as possible."

She shut down the channel and turned to Lando's expectant eyes.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We wait," she replied simply.

Lando frowned. "For how long?"

The comlink buzzed in Leia's hand and she arched perfect eyebrows at him. "Not too long."

They spent the afternoon sitting quietly in some smoky dive nursing drinks which Lando had bought, Leia's powerful enough that it actually seemed to be evaporating in the glass, thus saving her the trouble of explaining why she wasn't drinking it. Early evening was giving way to night in the Lucky Dug Cantina in Cat Dato spaceport. It was hot and it was gritty, which was very much what she felt like herself right now as she waited for their ride to turn up, hesitantly contemplating voicing her worries.

The band started up with relentless gusto and she glanced over before turning back to the sabacc game unfolding before her. Lando was playing--where he'd gotten the credits from she didn't want to ask; probably the same reluctant donor as their comlink.

Leia hunched over to rest her chin on her fist, watching Lando bet high, prompting everyone to throw in their cards in frustrated response. Two of the players rose to leave the table despite Lando's protestations, likely having seen they were about o get fleeced by a pro.

He should have played Luke some time; everyone said Luke was a natural at sabacc. Even Han wouldn't play him anymore

"Touched by 'The Lady'," they said; Lady Luck.

She laughed sourly into her warm drink...but apparently not. Not when it mattered.

"Did you ever...talk to Luke, Lando?" she asked as casually as she was able.

Lando glanced up from rearranging the new chip-cards in his hand. "Luke? No, didn't really get a chance. Seemed a nice kid, though."

"He is." She nodded slowly. "He is..."

"Sure chooses his enemies though," Lando added distantly, stacking his credits one-handed.

Leia nodded, lost in thought... "Did...Vader ever mention him to you?"

"Vader?" That turned Lando's head, his voice uneasy now, uncomfortable with the subject. "No, not really. Just to say that he wanted him back--and that Skywalker'd come to Bespin if you three were there."

Leia set her head on one side, aware that Chewie had turned to follow this conversation. "That he wanted him back?" she emphasized, wishing to be sure.

Aware of her seriousness, Lando considered, searching his memory. "That it was time for him to come back," he corrected, uncertain what she was getting at. "Why?"

Leia shook her head quickly, turning away. "Nothing. No reason."

Chewie howled a long sentence, turning Lando's head.

"He wants to know, are we...heading back for them?" Lando translated, clearly not sure he'd like the answer either way.

"As soon as we can," Leia confirmed, looking to Chewie now. "But we need backup first--and a plan."

"Not wanting to put a damper on your fun, but remember you said the nice Imperial pilot told you Han'd be out soon enough."

"And you should always believe what stormtroopers tell you," Leia scorned. "And anyway, what about Luke?"

Whilst in the cockpit, the first pilot's blaster a reassuring weight in her hands, Leia had risked a few moments to quiz the second as he keyed the release for the restraints in the main hold. "The two men who came in with us, why aren't they on the transport?"

"Who?"

"The Corellian--where is he?"

The man's eyes stayed on the blaster. "He's in the Palace--the Commander's keeping him there, I heard."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He'd leaned back as Leia jammed the blaster forward in silent encouragement. "I don't! I'm not even supposed to know that! They wanted...they needed him for something, I don't know what. They were gonna release him, I think--they were gonna release him pretty soon."

"And the other, what about the other prisoner?"

"Other?" The pilot frowned, unsure. "There's no...there was no other."

"Luke Skywalker!" Leia had said through gritted teeth.

The man only shook his head, eyes on the snout of the blaster.

"He came in on the shuttle with us! He was on a medi-sled."

"There was no..." The man looked up as his confusion was replaced by realization. "Oh. Yeah, I bet you'd like to get your hands on him." There was something in the way he said it--some kind of wry amusement, though he'd obviously misunderstood her intent. "Chalk that one up to experience," the pilot had said at last, making her frown.

Then Lando had opened the cockpit door, leaning warily in. "Leia, time to move. Chewie's getting kinda antsy out here."

When she still didn't move, staring at the pilot, Lando had taken her arm, to pull her gently back as he prompted, "... Kinda in a rush here...?"

The strident buzz of her comlink pulled her back to the moment and the dubious surroundings of the Lucky Dug as she snatched for it. "Nine-nine-two-oh-five," she said simply; open comm channels weren't for names.

"Go to docking bay forty-two, South Pitch," came the reply. "We'll make contact there."

"On our way," Leia said, glancing to the others. "Let's move."

She rose, finally sure what she would say when she got back to Alliance Command, which was, quite simply, nothing.

It was all a lie of course. It had to be. She wasn't stupid. It was all lies to undermine Luke, and she wouldn't say a word. She wouldn't play their games, whether she understood them or not. They had wasted their time, and when she got Luke out of there, she'd tell him all about it and they'd laugh at the outrageous claims. They'd chosen the wrong dolt if they were hoping she'd even consider selling Luke out just on their word.

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To be continued...

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