Saga Masquerade [ROTJ AU] [Vader, Luke, Leia] Updated April 7, 2015!

Thanks everyone!!

Times are pretty hectic (my sister's getting married, um... Sunday... LOL). I think you can tell I've been looking forward to these Bast Castle bits, so I'm writing a little to unwind.

Several little nibbles of chapters will follow~

---
Badger, Bread, and Grace
---

"Not exactly what you'd call homey. ...Not as bad as I expected."

The whispers echoed as the troops shuffled squishily behind Vader, and Leia looked back at them a moment before shaking her head, smirking gently before looking forward again, content to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, it's almost... cozy, I guess."

"Blank walls and shiny steel makes it cozy?"

"Well... Imperial cozy."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that when I'm planning my honeymoon. Go for the Death Star Bed and Breakfast."

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a hint of a smile on Vader's face. But it was quickly gone and replaced with a businesslike scowl as they paused at a security station. His fingers, gloved as they were, flew over the keys with impressive speed that showed his comfortable familiarity with the system. "The rest of the security systems are disabled. ...Scans show the entire Stormtrooper garrison has disappeared." Two bright blips showed on the screen as more information flashed by, and Vader's expression hardened.

"What? ...Two people are still here? - Officers? Squatters?" Leia pressed him for information, trying to grab whatever breadcrumbs she could. But he slammed his hand down on the console and its screen went blank. With a grim determination, he started swiftly walking down the long corridor. Leia snorted in annoyance but matched his pace, and the troops shuffled behind them in a confused and disorganized line. Their footsteps echoed off the cold walls, reverberating, echoing the steady chaotic beat of the rain falling on the roof.

As they approached a slick set of doors, Vader raised a hand, glaring at the group and motioning for silence. It took a moment for the troops to comply, drenched and disorganized as they were. Vader entered an access code into the panel and the doors slid open, revealing what seemed to be a set of guest rooms; compared to the smooth steel corridor, it was rather plush and comfortable. A large bed was visible, and the translucent canopy revealed a large lump of shadow underneath covers. Vader's steps became more and more light, his lightsaber unlit in his hand, as he stepped forward. Leia followed closely, blaster drawn and close to her face at the ready.

Vader reached out, black gloved hand barely touching the canopy before he whipped it away in one smooth motion.

Two figures were pleasantly snuggled underneath the covers - a middle-aged man, holding a young Kiffar woman close to him. Her long curly hair was spread out over the bed, and from her figure, even Leia could tell she was pregnant - perhaps six months along.

Leia watched Vader's face closely, trying to figure out what his reaction was. Instead his face remained perfectly neutral before he barked out: "Dasje!"

The man flinched awake, hands out, and almost instantly he was out of bed, adjusting his clothes and sweeping into a bow. "Lord Vader! My deepest apologies - we didn't expect you so soon -"

The woman followed almost as quickly, out of bed, smoothing out her dress. Both of them found their outer clothing almost as quickly, looking distinctly more civilized once they were. Leia had barely managed to put her blaster away before it seemed they both became a whirlwind of hospitality. The woman pressed a fluffy towel into her hands and reflexively she scrubbed at her dripping wet hair, wringing it out.

"Princess Organa," Vader said, smiling softly and gesturing at the two, "Dasje, majordomo of Bast Castle; Mirou, head chef."

"Er -"

Both of them swept into elegant bows once more. She swore that Vader was smiling, but only for an instant. "Dasje, we need all resources -"

"Sir," the man interrupted politely, "All supplies have been packed into the vehicles that can hold cargo. Security codes have been updated and verified." As the majord

 

I loved seeing everyone get "comfy" at the castle. It made me think a lot of the scene in Beauty and the Beast when the servants are all running around trying to make dinner and make Belle comfortable. And Mirou is pregnant! I also had a bit of a smile at Vader's attachment to the Claren. Great update!

 

Obviously writing fanfiction is the correct solution to my being about to go insane with stress, lol...

Also, car lovers will note my incredibly obvious 4th wall breaking with my naming. I CAN'T HELP IT, I WATCH TOO MUCH TOP GEAR >>

---
Snails and Puppy Dog Tails
---

The Millennium Falcon settled into the wide hangar, and by the time Han walked down the boarding ramp, Leia was there to greet him. The hangar was already full of Rebel soldiers, organizing all of the scavenged materials they could, loading them onto the small fleet of personal ships Vader had at Bast Castle - or whatever Dasje could order in time before covering his tracks. Han understandably did not look pleased to be there - and it was an irresistible opportunity to tease him.

"Han!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "We have a situation."

"What? What's happened?"

She remained stony-faced until he was next to her, then let a slim smile play on her lips, taking a small covered dish out of the bag slung at his hip. "Eat this."

"That's the situation?" He said incredulously, but undid the top of the tin, pulling out the simple attached spoon from its holder and poking suspiciously at the contents.

"The situation is that we need to pull out all the stops to get this woman cooking for the Rebellion full-time. ...Go ahead, take a bite. You'll see what I mean."

Han glared worriedly until he actually tried a bite. "Mmfn! ...Mmm." His eyes lit up immediately, and one bite quickly followed another. Chewbacca followed Han down, snuffling before giving a curious and keening roar. "That's -" Han gulped before taking one more bite. "That's the best I've ever had." He turned to offer it to Chewbacca. "Fish stew over rice. And I don't even like fish stew. But that's delicious."

Leia smirked. "You see what I mean about how we have a situation?"

"Yeah, I think I do. But..." He grinned, looking around the hangar. "I'm only here for one thing. Vader has a Claren, right? Anyone found it yet? Because I'm loading it onto the Falcon and saying we're even about Bespin -"

"That would only be proper reparations if I had actually killed you, Solo, and then only if I had killed you very slowly and very painfully," Vader interrupted, striding into the hangar. Han jumped a little and glared at Vader as he passed. "Besides, it's destroyed. Scrap." While Vader continued to direct a group of troops, giving instructions on how to best dismantle some part of the castle before returning them to Dasje's care, Han gave a long mournful sigh. The troops who had overheard the announcement also looked as if they had just been informed that their grandmother died along with their favourite pet cat.

Leia sighed. "All right, I have to ask. I've heard the name before, but I can't remember where. ...What, exactly, is a Claren?"

"The fastest production swoop ever made!"

Han smirked at the trooper's enthusiasm. "You know how in every barracks there's at least one poster of a fancy swoop next to whatever pin-up girl? ...The Claren is always that swoop."

"There were only fifty-two ever made!" The trooper continued rambling in excitement. "Well, fifty-three, counting Vader's. There was some debate as to whether it counted or not - custom job, as I understand it, with some slight variation in parts and tuning, not to mention whatever additions -"

"I used to be able to name all fifty-three owners," the other nearby trooper said with starry-eyed nostalgia. "The whole list. Even the colors they had their Clarens painted, sometimes..."

Leia shook her head, cracking a smile. "Boys and their toys. I should've known." She nailed Vader with a smirk as he strode past, busy with some sort of organizational task.

"Every man has their own individual weakness. Admiral Thrawn keeps his art collection. Tarkin's favourite foible was called Natasi Daala. For my part..." He turned to face her once he reached the turbolift. "I happen to like going very fast."

"I thought your indulgence was killing things," Leia said snidely.

"True. Going very fast, and killing th

 

These two chapters were lovely! It was a great deal of fun to finally see Dasje and Mirou meeting with the Rebels - what a union of two worlds! And Mirou is pregnant - whee!

Oh, I'm sure Lord Vader was extremely amused, he's just very good at hiding it.

Hm, I wonder how this level of hospitality compares to what Leia experienced back on Alderaan - I'm sure Leia was greatly impressed despite her upbringing as a princess!

Yes, the Rebellion certainly should pull out all stops to get such an efficient housekeeping pair on board!

Ah, but it's a father-in-law's perogative to tease his future son-in-law like that!

 

Great story, I totally second your notion of Vader and Anakin being merely two different sides of a same person. And I definitely agree with Vader's view of morality. It's just not possible to have all encompassing light because light always create shadows, and deep shadows are small pockets of darkness. Hope for another update soon! And may I be added onto the pm list, pleeeeaaasssssssseeee?

 

(Housekeeping/responses will come after this post, I promise!)

---
Spice and Everything Nice
---

"So what do you think about this?"

One of the rebel troops stared at the other, chopsticks in hand, quirking an eyebrow before the other gestured with a bit of flatbread in hand. "You know, all of this. Coming in expecting to be all guns blazing and instead getting, um..."

"Getting fed like it's Life Day at grandma's house?" He grinned around a bite of food. "I'm not complaining."

"It's sort of strange, though. Don't you think?" The troop paused, setting down his garlicky flatbread to more properly hop up on the kitchen counter.

"Of course it's strange." He poked around in the bowl of noodles with his chopsticks, pulling out a small deep-fried squid and popping it in his mouth - and continuing to talk despite this. "Iff's like you juff found out -"

"Damn! Swallow, then talk!"

"Sheesh, all right, sorry - like I was saying. It's like you just found out your favourite great aunt - y'know, the one that always gives you 50 credits on your birthday with a card and tells you to go buy an ice cream - is a serial killer. A damn good serial killer. But she's still patting you on the head and giving you cake."

"Yeah, that's a good way to put it." The other frowned. "Too good of a way to put it, come to think of it..."

"Stop giving me that look, my great aunt's no killer. She did do the ice cream thing, though..."

Smiling broadly, Mirou wandered over to that section of the kitchen, and both of the troops straightened up in attention - though their attitudes were less in military precision and more similar to dogs who had just noticed somebody picking up the bag of liver treats. "Enjoying your meal? There's plenty more where that came from, you know, seems such a waste to throw out fresh produce when there's no good way to transport it so may as well make it useful..."

"Oh - uh, no thank you, Miss Mirou, I'm stuffed, couldn't eat another bite." The trooper paused. "Unless you have more of that trifle, I mean."

"I'm sure there's some in here," she said cheerfully, pointing to a refrigerator unit. There was an immediate scramble to get it open, and one of the Rebellion troops started lifting out a large tray of leftover trifle, grinning ear to ear. In a flash, Mirou was there to pull him back. "Oh no, no, dear - not that one!"

"What?" The trooper looked confused, and one of his comerades couldn't help but joke: "Lord Vader's personal trifle, maybe?"

"That one's the poisoned one," Mirou chirped with a smile. "You don't want to eat it, you'll be dead in a half-hour at most. Here, dear. You want this one. It's mostly gone but it's safe."

The group stared at her even as she cheerfully took out the poisoned dessert and scraped it out into a trash bin.

"...Miss Mirou? Why do you have, uh, poisoned trifle just... around?"

"Very simple, really." She gave them all a bright smile. "It's how we dealt with all the officers, you know, the ones that stayed behind, when they didn't quite see things our way when it came to loyalty to Lord Vader over the Empire." She tapped the large spoon on the edge of the trash bin, and the last bit of trifle flopped into it. "My trifle's irresistible, you know. Even if I did have to add some almond extract to cover up the poison... It's supposed to be a very nice death. Like going to sleep and never waking up."

They continued staring, even as she turned around, waddling slightly because of her already-quite-round pregnant belly. "Now. Would anyone like any cake?" Her tone was pleasant and cheerful as always, and she seemed to be the only one not bothered in the least of going from talk of murder straight on to dessert.

But even still, with cake involved, it only took about five seconds for half the troopers in the group to nod yes eagerly.

--

"Dasje!" Leia admitted she was slightly disappointed that the man had stopped jumping when she called his name, but she did appreciate how he smoothly turned around to give his full attention to her. She had grown up on Alderaan with seemi

 

I just dropped in for a look, and actually found a new update waiting. Chopsticks? I'm a bit surprised that the Rebeliion would go all that for Chinese food.......although I admit the noodles are awesome. Personally, I find Mirou to be a lot more scary than people like Vader. At least with him, you know that his gonna resort to violent measures. Leia's gonna find out about Padme sooner or later, I wonder how the rebel leaders will react to this piece of news

 

Scheming!Mirou is quite scary! Well, until one manages to get two pieces of trifle from her, I guess.

It's sweet that Vader's personal files are Senate meeting records... We're getting to see a more adorable side to each of our characters, which is lovely.

 

I am so bad at housekeeping type things... I promise soon I'll get things in order >_o Life's sort of hectic! But... must! write!

Next-to-last installment of the Bast Castle shenanigans, I promise we'll get back to ACTION TIME~~ soon.

---
Tar Baby
---

The basement of Bast Castle had been locked away for so many months that it took the lights a long moment to flicker on. There was nothing more than the soft clatter of Vader's boots as he came down the secondary stairway, ignoring the turbolift. Even the murmur of the rain of the roof was lost, so far in the bowels of the house. Rows and rows of statues in his image - or what used to be his image - lined the storage space, silent soldiers waiting for orders. Some shone in gold, platinum - other precious metals. Sacred heartwoods shared space with the most technologically advanced pieces of art the universe had to offer. All of them were supplication, meant to buy Lord Vader's favor, as if he could be satiated with baubles like a common streetwalker.

He hated this place.

He hated what each present stood for. He hated that he was forced into taking each one, and keeping it, just in case the Empire would need it later to appease some petty official. All of them were useless effigies of what he used to be. Row after row of blank and lifeless stares.

There was a long row of them, just the perfect height, and he landed a solid kick on a pedestal. One toppled into another, falling backwards. It was destruction, but rather unsatisfying. The suit was gone, but the ugliest part of it - the feeling of being trapped, smothered, confined - still persisted.

Like some great predator, he slowly circled the largest statue. His lightsabers snapped out behind him, growling in the air. His footsteps were light as he stalked forward, paused, and then finally launched himself at the statue with unprecedented viciousness.

The lightsaber blades easily bit into the stone. Soon it was in two pieces - four, six - he sliced again and again. The massive helm bore the worst of it as he drove the lightsaber into the eyes of the helm, then the mouth. It was frustration turned into movement as he sliced again and again.

Eventually the stone heated up, glowing red at the edges with each cut. And then the mass became all edges, molten stone sealing again. He couldn't tell if it was all self-healing wounds, something miraculous, or whether it was more similar to the lava he remembered flowing all around him, choking him as he drowned -

A long sticky tendril of lava curled up, following his lightsaber blade. He narrowly avoided stepping in the pool of it as it seared the floor, cooling quickly. He swore some stuck to his heel as he stumbled back. And his lightsabers were still lit as he slid to sit on an upturned column, gasping for breath. Even he couldn't tell if each deep breath was because of the sudden burst of exercise, or if it truly held that small tremble as a prelude to sobbing.

After a few long moments he put his lightsabers, unlit, back in his belt, and put his head on his hands. Nothing - he had accomplished nothing. Just wasted energy, wasted effort, wasted anger. It would have been so easy to just let the frustration roll out in tears, if he hadn't been so proud.

It wasn't a sound that lured him out of his dark thoughts: it was a smell. Not the crisp ozone of a lightsaber blade's cut or the brimstone heat of the destroyed statue. No, it was complex - savory, slightly sweet - a rich spiciness - and at the base, something earthy and familiar, so much like what was most easily grown on moisture farms on Tatooine...

The bowl of mushroom curry was on the edge of the fallen column, his makeshift bench, and he had no doubt who left it there. He merely hoped that she was still watching to see the worn smile that came over his face, and to see how he handled the bowl so delicately as if it were far more precious than any of the jeweled tchotchkes in the room. It was the closest thing he had to home, and while it remained, he would take comfort in it.

 

---
Walking Widderschynnes
---

"That is the last box, I believe, Princess Organa." Dasje gave her a polite, if bland, smile. "The charges are set to be triggered remotely. Mirou and I will take care of that, unless you would like to deal with it personally."

"No, that's fine." Leia reached up to undo her hair from part of its complicated system of braids while Dasje politely waited for the next command. Bast Castle was now as empty as they possibly could have managed. There was still a salvage team working on stripping the security system for any useful parts, but the turreted guns had been easy to remove. Even if there had been more to scavenge, there was little point in remaining. Better to leave no trace and leave the Empire only a salted field, making sure the facility was thoroughly useless. "Dasje, I had a few questions for you." Leia kept her tone respectful and delicate.

"Of course, Princess."

"Shmi." Dasje's eyebrows raised slightly. "Yes - Vader's master passcode."

"I'm familiar with it, ma'am." Of course an answer wouldn't be that easy, but he was still perfectly polite. He didn't offer any more information, merely clasping his hands behind his back.

Gingerly, she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to strike the right tone in body language to get him to talk. "I was hoping you knew what it meant." She caught his look and quickly backpedaled: "I'm not asking you to be indiscreet, I promise. Although it's true that there are many significant security risks with Vader's new position..." She made eye contact with him as she let the lie come freely. "I'm trying to get a better sense of who he is, to make him more comfortable, perhaps. The Rebellion isn't the impersonal machine the Empire is."

It took a moment, but Dasje gave a small nod, apparently accepting what she had said. "I'm afraid I know nothing about it, personally. But I do remember some relevant advice, perhaps, that Lord Vader himself gave me." She was glad to see the older man relax somewhat, and he gestured widely as he talked. "A man's most secure password will either be the name of his favourite pet, or it will be his mother's maiden name. Apparently that rule never failed him, and he did not see the reason in paying an expensive slicer when an officer could merely conduct a few interviews."

Leia cracked a smile and a quiet laugh, and made a mental note to change her password. Immediately.

"Thank you, Dasje. Just... one more thing."

"Yes, Princess?"

"I have to ask this."

"Oh, I understand."

"You likely know I've been dreading it."

Dasje chuckled.

"Is there any way that you and your wife would join the Rebel Alliance?" Leia gave a slightly pathetic grimace. "You can ask, but I'm fairly sure you already know what a proud woman I am, and right now I am begging you - begging you - to think of any way..."

Already, he was shaking his head no. "I am terribly sorry, Princess. But I am afraid Mirou and I have already made our plans."

She gave an overdramatic sigh before hopping up to sit on one of the last cargo containers. "Well, it was worth a try." Her feet hurt from walking around in circles, and she took the opportunity to loosen the laces on her boots. "I heard something about Dantooine?"

"Oh, yes. A little farm - triticale, mostly. I believe it's currently the dry season, so we'll stay a few months in Danuta City, perhaps even have a small service and become officially married." He caught the way Leia's eyebrows were raised. "Bast Castle isn't the best venue for a wedding, I'm sure you'd agree. We've simply not had it written down on the books as of yet. Initially, I believe Mirou did ask Lord Vader to officiate, but..."

"I may be a man of many talents, Dasje, but that is not one of them." Vader called out as he walked up, his footsteps echoing in the empty hangar bay. Mirou ushered a few very full-looking Rebel troops behind him, and she herself cradled an old, dented stock pot in her arms. As soon as Dasje saw it, he smiled broadly, and he pulled himself into a bow. "I know for a fact that y

 

After writing this, I think it's ok to be posted here, originally I had intended it to be FF.N-only. However, I do consider this to be hitting some 'high water marks'. It's about on 'episode of Mad Men' level of content. Mods, if you think this is too much for TF.N, please let me know and I will take this chapter down.

Small vignette to get us back to the rest of the galaxy's action.

---
Love's A Losing Game
---


At a certain station in life, vices stop being hazardous and, if anything, become required. Moff Nisu tel Cinar of Taris had skipped over the usual drinking and gambling, and had even gone through the stable of human courtesan girls quite quickly. Twi?lek girls were cheap, but he eternally craved something else. Moff Nisu was a good servant of the Empire. He believed the propaganda. Non-human girls were not only exotic, they were expendable, ultimately worthless in the eyes of the Empire. So the togruta woman had come at the perfect time.

Nisu gasped as he flopped back onto the bed, giving a small, crazed laugh. ?That? that was amazing.?

?It was,? the togruta purred, rolling over onto her side. He continued to pant as she drew lazy circles on his chest with a clawed finger. ?I?m sure it will just get better.?

The cool air was refreshing on his sweaty skin, and he was reluctant to get anywhere near the sheets, kicking them off. But her body heat lingered near him, a welcome comfort, a reminder of what had happened and what would surely happen again. She was beautiful. Her long montrals made her silhouette wonderfully foreign as she sat up. She was his ? and she was his to use however he liked, until he tired of her. Expendable. Cheap. Glorious.

She laughed a little, almost half a growl, a rumbling catch in the back of her throat. Nisu had read about how togruta were primitive and barbaric, carnivorous hunters at best. Now he believed it all ? he had experienced it, every inch of her wildness.

It was tempting to simply close his eyes and drift off into sleep, but she apparently had other plans. The sinuous way she moved was intoxicating as she stretched and then straddled his chest, looming over him. A slant of light snuck in the open window and licked at her form, illuminating the curve of her neck to her collarbone and half of the white markings on her cinnamon-red skin. The only modesty she had was a shadow draped over her bare breasts.

?Nisu,? she cooed. ?I want to ask you a question.?

?Of course. Anything.?

?And don?t lie.? She shifted her arms and wiggled coquettishly. ?I?ll know if you lie.?

He nodded in assent, still dizzily pleased. His breaths were already starting to deepen as he looked over her bare form, especially as she leaned in. ?Do you love me??

Her breath was hitting his face, and his eyes fluttered. For a moment he tensed. This was a trick question, and he knew it. But he had also been up-front. This relationship, as it was? It was disposable. It was not meant to last. She was just for fun ? not for love.
?No,? he finally answered.

A bright smile broke over her face, and Nisu relaxed. He had chosen the right answer. ?Good. That?s very good.? Her hands cradled his face, caressing his cheeks, and the long fingernail of her thumb grazed against his skin. ?I?m very glad to hear that.? She leaned back, and the long tendrils of her headtails tickled gently on his chest, even as her hands continued to move up his cheeks. ?That means this won?t be a surprise.?

His lips pursed in confusion seconds before her thumbs jerked away from his temples. She plunged her thumbs into his eyes in a quick and professional manner. He screamed, of course. There was blood, and pinkish gore, wet and slick as she dug into the meat of his head. The neighbors had long since trained themselves to ignore such noise, and the rest of Taris city simply did not care. Eventually Moff Nisu stopped thrashing.

She calmly slid off him, wiping off her thumbs on the blanket. The small, slinky dress was all she needed, but out of modesty she picked up her coat. Taris was not especially chilly, but the fur co

 

Apologies for the slightly late reply - I've been tidying up my new apartment after getting back from my vacation.

I loved the last two paragraphs of Tar Baby. You make an excellent point about how the best gifts are those that come from the heart, and sometimes all it takes to comfort a person is something familiar, something that reminds them that they are not alone in the world.

Love Lord Vader's password advice. And Leia's reaction is priceless.

Glad to know that Dasje and Mirou will have a bright future ahead for them , though I'll be sad to have them gone!

Finally, Love's a Losing Game quite broke my heart. Even though Ahsoka smiles at the end, one can't help but be reminded of the first line of the chapter: "At a certain station in life, vices stop being hazardous and, if anything, become required." It is a sad world indeed, one that forces people like Ahsoka down such paths...

 

Holy cow, Ahsoka. That's one way to take care of a Moff... That was intense, and indeed graphic, but beautifully written as always.

 

If it's too much, Luna_Nightshade, please just let me know! I'll be happy to edit it out.

I hope your move and vacation were equally awesome, Valiowk! :>

---
Wackidoo
---

Not that he would admit it - especially to Princess Organa, of all people - but in a situation where he was being called sir and giving orders, Vader felt as exposed without a carefully crafted air of mystery as he would without underwear and trousers. The black scraps of armor had been cobbled together into something fairly intimidating, especially when coupled with a wide, asymmetrical cape that furled out behind him like a silken shadow. The pauldron was a slapdash job: the stenciled Alliance starbird was accented with a small drip on the left bottom edge. But the troops seemed impressed. Vader had never worn such an obvious symbol of the Empire. He had been an obvious symbol of the Empire. And now he was taking up someone else's insignia for his own.

The pauldron also did a great job of keeping the cape in place. As vain as he might be, Vader prided himself on being practical.

All of the Rebellion troops immediately stood at a straighter attention as he strode out of the small craft into the bunker. Their Captain, however, continued barking out orders. "...We get in, we get the information, we get out again! Resistance will be heavy! But you know what to do!"

"Yes, sir!" They chorused.

"Your job is to provide a clear path to the datacenters in this remote facility. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good! Commander Vader will fill in the details!" The captain stepped aside expectantly. "All yours, Commander."

There was a long moment of silence.

"I... assume you have some sort of strategy, sir?"

"Of course," he said dryly. But other than that he said nothing, merely brushing back the hood of his cloak before removing it along with the pauldron. The bits and pieces of armor came next - a pile of jet black.

The Captain cleared his throat expectantly.

"I suppose you want detail," Vader said dryly.

"Yes, sir."

He was leaning down to lace his boots slightly more tightly. As he shrugged off his black overtunic and reached up to fix his hair back in a ponytail, he left his appearance rumpled and loose. It seemed in moments he had gone from a master of intimidation to someone relatively normal. "The plan is very simple. Shut up, wait here, and follow me in when I give the signal."

"...That's it?" One of the troops piped up incredulously.

"That is precisely 'it'. I assume that you lot can understand those basic instructions." He gave a momentary bright, cruel smile before starting to hop up out of the earthen trench.

"Ah - Commander, sir -" The Captain flailed sightly. "What is the signal, sir?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

The spires of the communications station could be seen through the thick and colorful Saleucami forest. It was a small enough station - perhaps a garrison of fifty, at most - but the Rebellion still found themselves sorely outmatched and outgunned. Not that it would be a problem, with Vader leading the charge. They just didn't know that quite yet.

As soon as he hit the forest floor, climbing out of the trench, something about his stance relaxed. Instead of striding purposefully, he ambled. He stuck his hands in his pockets. The intimidating Commander was left behind in the trench, replaced with some wandering farmboy who had strayed too far from his land.

The stormtrooper standing at guard sighed and shifted his rifle in his hand. "Sir, this is Imperial property."

He kept his face perfectly straight, and continued walking forward.

"Civilians aren't allowed here, sir."

The only reaction Vader gave was a small, slow blink.

"Sir. If you don't turn back now, we will have to start shooting."

And he continued walking forward.

The stormtrooper brought his rifle to his shoulder with a sigh. "All right, sir. You asked for this..."

The first blaster bolt was quickly met by his lightsaber, which lashed out as soon as the shot came.

"Oh, kriff!"

 

Just caught this today; awesome! Can you please add me to your PM notification list?

 

I was actually very sad to see Dasje and Mirou go. Would have been good for Vader's mental and physical health to have them around. For me, Vader's "caretakers" have always been some of the most intriguing characters in fanfic. There have been a few, even before the Prequel Trilogy appeared.

 

I'm a bit surprised that Vader didn't let Desje and Mirou stick around longer with the alliance. And Ahsoka's little assiasination job was done like a pro, is she starting to like the killing too? Ah, I suppose dire times calls for dire measures, but seeing the alliance filled with people like these don't give me much hope for an actual victory against the dark side. They may be able to kill the emperor and destroy the empire, but they'll still lose. Which brings me to a question that I'd always wanted to ask: according to the Jedi, you can't kill a sith out of anger, because then you'll become one of them yourself, but what reasons should you have for killing someone? Out of pleasure? Out of necessity? In a sense of self-righteousness? Is that really better? In law, killing out of anger or madness counts as man-slaughter, but a calculated kill counts as murder.......so what exactly was the Jedi talking about? Do they mean to not kill people altogether or were they teaching people to be a cold and calculating murderer?

 

Great chapter. Its odd how I keep finding all these stories I have never read before now, that are so good. This is what happens when you don't have a computer during the summer. Looking forward to the next update.

 

I don't think I could have laughed harder at Vader's one-man act and the troops' cluelessness.

Great update!

 

Hang on a cotton-pickin' minute, was that Vader playing chicken with a couple of Stormies just now?

Swag man. Swaaag.

 

Cazz, your comment made me giggle for five solid minutes!

Redav, that's always bothered me as well. Great moral quandary of course. But hey, that's what writing is for - exploring these fun sorts of bits of morality in SWverse!

----
Mitigating Circumstance
----

"All of this for an order to an art dealer," Leia sighed.

She knew the importance of it very well, which was why she only muttered underneath her breath. A coordinated attack, a precision strike, the fleet around Salucami... all for an order to an art dealer. Admiral Thrawn's order to his personal art dealer. It didn't even make the meeting among Rebellion leaders any more interesting.

"...Grave statuette from Boz Pity -?"

"Cross-referencing earlier orders, it's to complete a set. No surprises there. Please continue, Commodore."

"Of course, General Madine. I think the more interesting entries are at the bottom of the list." The bothan tapped at the edge of his datapad. "Tied seaweed macrame from Mon Calamari, taken from the remnants of Tarkin's personal connection..."

"It appears you're getting some attention, Admiral Ackbar," Vader commented smoothly.

Apparently the council - or at least the Admiral - was, amazingly, on good enough terms with Vader to actually give a small laugh. Leia had heard that apparently Vader had caught Ackbar in the elevator and said, with apparent sincerity, that it was an honor to be serving with him. There was an odd gentlemen's agreement in that admission. Both of them knew each other from the battlefield, and in that raw honesty borne of conflict, there was respect.

"The next entries we believe are connected to you, Commander," the Commodore said, nodding towards Vader.

General Madine leaned in a little, resting his forearms on the meeting table. "We believe he's casting a wide net, since little is known about your early life. Thrawn has ordered an ornamental Lorridan knife, a Miralukan headdress, a Chandrilan data-dagger - though we think that may be in reference to you, Mon Mothma - and several holo-reproductions of Mandalorian ceremonial masks."

"Mandalorian?" Vader gave a wide smirk. "Completely off-target, but certainly flattering."

"There is one entry that we're mystified by. Thrawn has ordered a wide lot of twenty decorative gaffi sticks from Tatooine, but with deliberate orders to his art dealer. He only wants the most cheaply-made of them - counterfeits for that price, surely."

Madine and the others didn't seem to notice, but Leia did catch a glimpse of Vader's hands, twisting into tense, closed fists. Of course, not being a Tatooine native, Leia did not know that whatever small tourist trade Mos Eisley managed to support thrived on fake tschotskes supposedly from Tusken Raiders... and that every forgery was inevitably produced by a miserable slave, trying to scrape together whatever meager credits they could to try and buy their freedom. Leia did not know that Thrawn's shot in the dark had actually found its target.

Vader certainly did not let any of this show in his expression. He merely gave a derisive snort. "Ignore it. Thrawn is expecting us to be so intrigued by this inconsistency that we send resources to Tatooine. It's an obvious ruse. If he actually was chasing a serious lead, Thrawn would have spent a proper amount of money, not gone bargain-hunting."

"Thank you for the insight, Commander Vader." Madine gave a curt nod before looking around the conference table. "The plan goes on as usual, then. Grand Admiral Thrawn will be lured to Salucami, and met by our forces here, where we will follow Vader's strategy." Madine peered at Vader out of the corner of his eye. "Though curiosity is mounting as to what exactly that strategy is."

"All in due time. I have Admiral Ackbar's assurance that if I deal with Thrawn's flagship, the rest of the battle will go smoothly."

"I'm starting to doubt you even know how to deal with such a master strategist," Leia said snidely, unable to keep quiet any longer.

The smile that crossed over Vader's face was downright maddening. "The same way you deal with a

 

Good chapter. And great, you made Ashoka creepy. I mean really, that last line was making her seem a little crazy (though she has every right to be).

 

Your Ahsoka really makes my heart break - an Ahsoka who has been so changed by the war, by Anakin's betrayal, that she can now lie without batting an eyelid and speak to Vader so coolly. Hopefully we'll get to see a less icy side of her too - I would hate to think that a warm heart now beats more strongly in Anakin than it does in Ahsoka...

 

I realize this is a boring housekeeping post, but here goes.

First all, thank you so much for your comments, everyone! I realize that seems a little impersonal, but I honestly don't know what to say. I am truly flattered and definitely owe you all a beer irl, should the chance arise. And not Miller Lite. A fancy microbrew like a Terrapin or something. After suffering through my absurdity I won't stiff you on a good drink.

Secondly, I have a huge favor to ask... I really need a beta reader. Or really when I say beta reader, I mean someone I can spitball ideas off of. Right now I have a bunch of little episodes I would like to write, and I'm trying to get them into cohesive order, and I feel like I really need someone I can talk ideas over with. This is a sorry job because (a) you have to listen to my hysterical ramblings, and (b) you will pretty much get the entire rest of the plot completely spoiled for you as I'm outlining it, which I realize totally sucks. I'll try to at least minimize the spoilerage (unless someone volunteers and is all GIMME GIMME GIMME MMM TASTY SPOILERS) as I can. I would really sincerely appreciate if anyone could do this for me - thank you SO MUCH!

Finally... SILLY PICTURES TIME
I won a friend's kiriban on DeviantArt. "What do you want me to draw?" she asked. "Vader from my fanfic. As a pony. From My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic." And then she did just that. (Not only do you get Vaderpony, but you get Shepardpony from Yea, Though I Walk and Death-Knight-Mara-Jade from Malice Aforethought, two other stories so wonderfully nominated in the awards. But mostly you get Vaderpony.)
Also my own thank-you picture... http://www.chickensmoothie.com/oekaki/image/image.php?id=573078&size=large&format=auto&rev=1

Ok, that business aside... time to settle down and write. :B

 

Every-so-often I'm going to step away from the story a bit to give a lighthearted chapter, as much as I can. A smaller, sillier chapter to break up the tension, in other words. If you like your fanfiction all serious business, you can feel free to skip this. Don't take it too seriously.

---
Interlude I
---

"So apparently it's not dignified for an Emperor's Hand to spend all day on the holonet," Mara Jade sighed. "And if I play one more game of Angry Mynocks, I'm going to be sick. No, literally: I will vomit all over the holoscreen." She gestured widely for emphasis after setting down a pile of machinery with a thunk. "Or kill something. I'm not sure. Maybe both. But really, I don't want that to be my legacy. Mara Jade the Vomitous, Sith Lady who Kills People With Her Puke."

Luke Skywalker gave one solid, slow blink, watching her set up the equipment in front of him.

Truthfully, Mara was nearly at the end of her rope. She was now quite certain that the Emperor was only doing this to her as a sick test to see which of them would crack first. With the newest round of increased drugs, Skywalker was even less interesting to look at, which was a minor miracle: she hadn't thought such a thing possible. And to add insult to injury, her holonet access had been cut off. The Empire named it a security risk.

But damned if she would use to a drooling lump of farmboy.

Instead the holoscreen viewer was plopped onto the floor right in front of Luke, and she was busily hooking it up into working order. "So if anyone asks, which they won't, because you won't be able to respond, you'll just drool on them or something - if anyone asks, this is torture." She showed off the stack of datadiscs she had procured. "I specifically went through and picked out all the things I imagine you would loathe." Grinning, she opened the first case and settled down beside him, though she happily plucked away what passed for a blanket and pillow from him.

Strangely, although he sat there in a miserable, drugged lump, limp like a marionette with the strings cut, he seemed almost... glad for the company.

"I've had this on order for ages. It came out right before I went out chasing you to Tatooine, and I didn't get to see it properly, but it's supposed to be fantastic. Fabulous costume holovid. Heavy on the Imperial propaganda, of course." She shoved the datadisc into the player, and the opening fanfare started up.

"Oh, yes. I forgot." She grinned widely, adding with relish: "it's a musical."

She noticed that he didn't seem displeased. Oh well. That would surely change in time.

--

Several hours later, Mara Jade leaned back to lightly bonk her head against the wall.

"Okay. All right. I give in. I can't - I can't stand any more episodes of Manaan Shore." She gave a long sigh. "Or another romantic comedy. I am so tired of wacky situations and crazy hijinks. And, besides, that one with the two senator interns? That was just way too conceited," she added, becoming more enthusiastic. "And the jerk won out in the end. I can't stand that when it happens. The other man was obviously so much better for her." She paused. "I'm overthinking this, aren't I?"

She gave Luke a shifty glare out of the corner of her eye. "Are you feeling tortured yet?"

He blinked slowly, barely raising an eyebrow.

"Angry? Frustrated? ...Blink once for yes, twice for no."

Blink blink.

"Will you at least give me mildly inconvenienced?"

Blink.

"I guess that's progress," she sighed. "I know I can do better. I'm the Emperor's Hand, for Force's sake!" Her eyebrows knit in frustration. "At the very least, I'm going to... I know. I'm going to order in dinner. No rehydrated army rations. Tender, tasty bantha meat in a sandwich, Corellian-style. All the fresh fixings of course. And I'll order an ale. A good ale. Then I'll eat it all in front of you when you're stuck with intravenous nutrients because of all that sedation." Mara Jade grinned gloatingly, leaning over to poke him on the shoulder. "Ha. What do you think of that[/i