Saga The Jedi Empire (4/8/15)

I really like your Luke and Leia. The big 3 are well represented IMO. Leia's politik is a refreshing opposite of the leeches in this day and age.

 

The first stage of the assault was going well, all things considered. The Torpedo Spheres had taken heavy losses initially, but now with clear space superiority very few of the enemy bombers were getting through. The only option left to the treacherous defenders was to blast through the blockade with capital weapons. While hundreds of Star Destroyers had been lost in the maelstrom of turbolaser fire, hundreds more moved in to take their place. For the rebel fleet of the regicidal Vader, it was a losing battle. The Executor and that ugly Calamari monstrosity had been forced to flee to the far side of the moon to lick their wounds. The hodgepodge collection of warships that remained continued their desperate screening of incoming torpedoes, but despite their best efforts the shield was finally beginning to fail. Yes, the assault was going better than planned. He had underestimated the cowardice of Piett and that disgusting catfish and now faced nothing but ships the size of his own.

Were it possible, a self-satisfied grin would have crossed the face of Nial Declann, Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy; one of the four who had not gone over to the traitor junta with the rest of the royalists and technocrats that infested the military. He saw through Vader's lies, for he had the Force. He had been there when the Emperor died. He had felt his master's brief yet powerful outrage over the fatal treachery. That was not especially odious itself, however. Murder was how succession took place in the Order of the Sith: Should the Apprentice become strong or clever enough to kill his Master, he was worthy to become the Master. Declann knew it would happen eventually. In fact, he looked forward to the day. Vader possessed limitless potential, enough to surpass Sidious himself and fulfill the prophecy of the Sith'ari, the sovereign Overlord of all Sith, a virtual dark side deity. Sidious fancied himself just such a demigod, but Declann knew the truth. Vader was the Chosen One, destined to bring about the next stage of the Empire. With no enemies from which to hide, the Rule of Two would be obsolete and Declann would finally have what he deserved: A place among the ranks of Sith Lords, perhaps at the right hand of the Master himself.

But Vader was no Sith, not anymore. He was weak, having succumbed to the weakness inside him; the weakness of love. His feelings toward his estranged offspring led him to abandon the dark side and all it meant to be a Dark Lord. Treason was an integral part of the Order, yet this betrayal was unforgivable; for not only had he betrayed his master, but the Order itself. Vader had no living apprentice, and while many of his and his master's acolytes remained, none were truly Sith. Only he possessed the ancient knowledge passed down from before the days of Lord Bane, and so long as he remained a slave to his weakness, the Sith were extinct. Such treachery would not, could not go unpunished; and if, in the course of this battle he rediscovered his passion, all the better. Either way, victory was at hand, but Admiral Declann was far too focused to celebrate. In his meditation chamber deep within the Star Destroyer Aldehon, every corner of his mind was dedicated to conducting his martial orchestra, a symphony of destruction that would bring this absurd revolt to an end.

The defenders were outnumbered, outgunned and surrounded. With his steadily rising three to one advantage, bomber support was hardly essential; merely gravy on the biscuits. But when his bombers began dying at an alarming rate, more of his faculties were dedicated to their plight. One didn't become a Grand Admiral by ignoring unexpected developments. His fighters were good, for he was an expert pilot and through the Force, so were they. The Rebel pilots and Naval Aviators of Death Squadron weren't exactly bad, they were among the best doing their best, but it wasn't good enough. None of them had the Force. But this one, the leader of the Avenger squadron that was slaughtering his bombers... he did have the Force!

Found you, a coherent thought rang out amid the clamor of Declann's mind. Then, a smile did at last appear; a broad, toothy, predatory grin.

***

Leia observed the hologram quietly. Between giving orders, Admiral Teshik informed her of major developments, each less auspicious than the last. Even without his discouraging insights, she could see for herself the grim reality of their situation: They were losing the battle.

"Planetary deflector shields are failing sir," the crewman in contact with the moonside facilities reported. "Estimate total collapse of all sectors in ten, nine-"

"Tell them to go to area defense," the Grand Admiral ordered.

"Aye, sir."

"That should buy us some more time," he grumbled. Until now, the shields that protected the moon protected all of it. The defense was global and nothing got in or out without permission. Now only the sectors under assault were active. While that took tremendous strain off the generator and breathed new life into the capacitors, the moon's defensive grid was now, quite literally, full of holes.

"But won't they get through?" Leia voiced the universal concern.

"Undoubtedly. You can see their bomber wings are already breaking off and heading for the atmosphere. But it's either this or lose the shields completely. I'm more worried about the turbolasers than the torpedoes now. They're too fast to block."

The hologram illustrated his concern. The occasional green bolt slipped through the shield and hammered the surface, spawning a country-sized shockwave and fireball that leveled all in its path.

"At least it's the far side," she tried not to think about all the living creatures being crushed, suffocated and incinerated. The dust ejected into the upper atmosphere would eventually blot out the sun. The Ewoks of Bright Tree Village would endure a winter that would last for years, not months.

"Mm, for now anyway. The moon's crust can only take so much, though. More of this and we'll have major tectonic disruptions. Groundquakes and volcanic eruptions at first, but if it absorbs enough energy the whole surface will turn to molten slag. Every bit as effective as hitting the generator directly."

"Sir," came another communications tech. "Admiral Piett reports the Executor's shield capacitors are recharged and structural damage is contained. She's ready to rejoin the battle on your order."

"Finally, good news. Patch him through directly."

"Piett here," came the admiral's voice over the comm.

"Is Ackbar's cruiser ready to go too?"

"Aye, sir."

"And is he clear on the maneuver?"

"That's what he claims."

"Very good. Execute Sigma-Omega-Four."

On Piett's order, the sublight engines of the Executor roared to life, propelling the nineteen kilometer dreadnought forward and around the moon at maximum thrust. Taking the cue provided, the Home One did the same in the opposite direction, and while her display was less impressive, it was only slightly so. With speed that defied their incredible volume, the two warships circled the moon faster than Leia would have thought possible. Once on the far side they ceased their burn and rode their orbit across the enemy formation, throwing the vast majority of their reactors' output to the turbolasers which tore through the enemy armada like a hail of red and green lightsabers. Dozens of Star Destroyers broke up or went nova. By the time their fleet mates returned fire in force the ships were already sling-shotting around the moon for another devastating pass. The second run didn't catch them off guard, but neither was there much guarding they could do. The 'small' destroyers simply couldn't repel firepower of that magnitude. After a token resistance their shields buckled and collapsed, exposing the hulls which yielded so readily they may as well have been made of silica.

Return fire met with lackluster results. While the battleships were putting minimal power into recharging their shields, they sustained little damage before disappearing behind the moon again. Unfortunately, so fleeting was their presence that only a half dozen or so ships were sunk on each pass, while hundreds more remained. The awe-inspiring attack did little but focus Declann's attention away from his bombardment of the Endor Moon. Like the switch to area defense, this was merely another stalling tactic on the part of Grand Admiral Teshik. They were still losing, and everyone on both sides knew it. She hadn't felt this helpless since she chose, for similar reasons, to remain on Yavin IV as the first Death Star approached. She had been in greater danger countless times before, but the shameful reliance on others to fight and die in her stead made it particularly unpleasant; only marginally less so than fleeing the system with Han, a proposition her rational mind repeated again and again.

“Leia,” Han said to her in a hushed, pleading voice. “There's still time. Let me take you out of here. Let me take you someplace safe.”

But another voice was speaking to her, one only she could hear. It had been bugging her for some time now. Easy to ignore at first, just vague feelings that could have easily been her own anxious imagination. But as their situation grew worse, the feelings resolved into thoughts which coalesced into words; clear, coherent, consistent, foreign.

"Trust your feelings!" The voice was eerily familiar, like something from beyond the grave.

"Ben?" she said aloud.

Luke was at her side in an instant. "What is it?" he asked.

"I just... I thought I heard Ben's voice..."

"Use the Force, Leia."

"But how!?" she cried to no one, eliciting a worried glance from everyone around. "There's nothing I can do! I'm helpless! I'm useless!"

"Let go, Leia!"

She did. With no better alternative, she lost herself in the moment and surrendered her conscious mind to instincts wiser than they could have possibly been. Suddenly it was all so clear, so simple. There was no more anxiety, no more doubt; only the correct course of action occupied her mind. All that remained was for her to make the necessary decision, the choice she had to make: Risk everything, or lose it all.

"Are you alright, your excellency?" Teshik's vocabulator managed to convey his concern.

"Admiral, I want you to take the Death Star out of orbit and open fire on the enemy fleet."

"My lady, we can't do that. Not without losing the shield."

"I know, which is why we'll have to rely on air cover," she turned to Luke. "Can I count on you for that?"

"Absolutely," he smiled. Finally, she was beginning to understand. "I'll suit up right away."

 

Superb! Your Leia is just amazing! Quick-thinking and decisive! She is winning respect in the heat of battle!

 

Looking forward to see how and if you continue the line of Sith.

 

Thank you two for the read! Going to update again today to get through this crazy battle.
As for the Sith....well....
Palpatine was a very smart man.

 

Turbolasers, ion cannons, proton torpedoes, autoblasters, auroras, shield flares, countless explosions and initiations; the moon's ionosphere was a storm of color Gray Nine had amusingly called a 'rainbarf'. She was in trouble now, her B-Wing harassed by yet another flight of Interceptors. Almost casually, Vader locked on to all three, blowing the first apart with his lasers while the pair of torpedoes he launched nailed the remaining two.

"You're clear," he announced over the comm. "Set up for your attack run."

"Thanks again, Omega One!" It was unclear if she knew the identity of her chronic benefactor. Since they entered their limited production run, the TIE/ad 'Avenger' wasn't quite as distinctive. "Alright Seven, Eight, on me! Let's make 'em pay!"

No longer fighting for their lives, the flight of heavy bombers regrouped and began burning toward their target: An ailing Imperator II which had rolled to port in a last-ditch effort to shield her vulnerable ventral side. On Nine's signal, all three ships loosed a volley of torpedoes, half of which streaked into the Star Destroyer's hangar bay while the other six popped the reactor dome. Safeties triggered the preemptive, controlled death of the reactor, preventing total annihilation but the loss of power was every bit as lethal. As the allied fighters roared away toward their next target the naked destroyer was pulverized by the guns of her erstwhile allies.

That wasn't his ship either, Vader fussed to himself. This is taking too long.

"More bandits incoming!" cried one of the Alliance pilots. "A full squadron of squints! Eighteen degrees!"

"Stay on target," Vader snapped. "I'll take them myself." Then, to his own squadron, "Cover them."

"Yes sir," replied Omega Two.

Vader throttled up and put his deflectors on double-front, then broke straight for the enemy squadron, spraying laser fire all the while. Four ships died before he passed through their formation without taking a single hit. The jamming was intense, but his Force-assisted-computer-assisted aim was inerrant. Equalizing his shields he came around and wasted another three before fully committing himself to the melee; then everything went wrong.

He suddenly found his mind overwhelmed by a powerful, demoralizing burst of emotion that jarred him as badly as any physical hit. At the same time, the rather unimpressive enemy pilots became instant experts, evading his targeting and regrouping with masterful skill. He quickly recovered from the psychic shock, but for the first time in recent memory he found himself grievously outmatched. It was all he could do to stay alive, never mind attack.

He's found me, Vader thought bitterly, cursing himself for flying into the obvious trap. Five TIE Interceptors, each virtually piloted by Admiral Declann himself now harried his fighter. He was using every maneuver he knew to avoid being hit, but it was only a matter of time until his statistically inevitable demise.

You're weak, his mind told him. Your powers are diminished.

Vader shook his head resolutely. So what if they are? he demanded.

You could end this engagement now. You could win this whole battle if you only possessed the will.

But at what price? I would sooner die than return to the dark side.

Selfish! his mind seethed. This isn't about you! This isn't about what YOU want! What about your family!?

I can't. I won't. If I give myself to the dark side, I will be a danger to them myself. He shuddered as he remembered strangling Padmé in anger over his wife's 'betrayal'. The look of shock, horror and despair as she slowly lost consciousness. He couldn't bear the thought of putting Luke or Leia through a similar ordeal. I won't make that mistake again, he swore to himself.

But you've learned so much since then, the voice insisted. You are the master of your emotions! Your passion doesn't control you, it serves you! Remember your training! Mind what you've learned! Defend your daughter's Empire! Release your anger!

Slowly, Vader raised a shaking hand from the control yoke which clenched and unclenched as he warred with himself. Finally, he made his decision and did the unthinkable. "This is Omega One," he called. "Requesting assistance."

***

"Commander!" Exclaimed Wedge Antilles. "I almost didn't recognize you!"

The joke elicited nervous laughter from the gathered Alliance pilots. Luke was wearing the full-body, vacuum-sealed flight suit of a TIE pilot. The Alliance fighter jocks had been caught with their proverbial pants down along with everyone else. Now they were stranded aboard the Death Star while their ships were in the hands of drivers half as experienced.

"Yeah," Luke's vocoder transmitted a passable facsimile of his voice, but it came out tinny. He pointed to the nearby crate resting on a hover truck. "I brought enough for the whole class. You guys have flown TIEs before, right?"

There were mumbled affirmations from the ex-Rebels, several qualified with "In a simulator." A few were less than enthusiastic about manning what they saw as cheap, disposable death traps.

"Not to worry," Luke reassured them even as they suited up, gesturing to the racks of odd, triple-winged fighting machines. "This is the cream of the crop, the TIE 'Defender'. It has the firepower and defensive shielding of a B-Wing with the sublight acceleration and maneuverability of an A-Wing. It is, in my professional opinion, the most advanced (and expensive) starfighter of all time. Those of you who've flown against these monsters know I'm not kidding, either." He turned back to the fighter crews. "The best fighters and the best pilots, both just sitting around, unused. That's unacceptable. We need to play every card we have. Even now, the Death Star is moving to engage the enemy fleet. As you probably know, that means we'll be losing the moonside deflector shield, so it'll fall on us to make sure nothing gets through. Understood?"

The pilots gave shouts of acknowledgment.

"Alright. Ladies and gentlemen, to your stations!"

***

Irady Shyler, captain of the ISD Aldehon, was ill; and not because the Grand Admiral's influence had left him again. He was relieved to be, once more, in full command of his mind and his ship. No, the disorientation from the sudden loss of... inspiration had quickly dissipated. His current malaise was from the evil omen before him, the new moon rising above the horizon.

Only it wasn't a moon.

"Take over," he managed to tell his XO before staggering toward the bridge's exit. Fighting back diarrhea, he made it to the turbolift and punched the appropriate button. Of all the times to play games with Vader, he groused silently while waiting on the car. That religion's way more trouble than it's worth.

A pair of stormtroopers stood guard at the entrance to Declann's meditation chamber. "I must speak with the Grand Admiral immediately," Shyler told them.

"He's not to be disturbed," the trooper replied.

"This is an emergency!" he cried. Then, seeing they remained unmoved, he added desperately, "One of utmost importance!"

"Our orders are clear. No one is allowed inside under any circumstances."

"Chaos take your orders!" he seethed. "They've brought the Death Star to bear!" Again his words fell on deaf ears. "This wasn't part of the plan!"

"All the same," the trooper said with maddening patience. "You're not getting in. I'm sorry, Captain."

"You stupid kriffing meat droids!" Shyler roared. "The Grand Admiral is in danger! Are you interested in his security or not? Let me in right now! That's an order!"

"The Grand Admiral's order supersedes yours." The stormtrooper raised his carbine. "I'm sorry, Captain." he said again. "But it's time for you to leave."

Knowing better than to press the issue further, Shyler about-faced and marched back to the turbolift. If they were authorized to use force, there was no guarantee they weren't also authorized to use deadly force. And after his insult, there was no expecting them to use the stun setting out of courtesy. Despite what he said, stormtroopers could be quite creative in their flawless execution of orders.

Back on the bridge, he resumed command. "Helm, take evasive action. Keep as many ships between us and the Death Star as possible."

 

"This is Skywalker," came Luke's voice over the comm. "Defender Wing is on station and standing by."

"Very good," replied Teshik. "How does Your Highness like the new Ds?"

"The controls are a little too responsive, but I think we'll manage. It'll be nice to be on the same side as these for once"

"Your Excellency is overused to those gunboats the Alliance calls fighters. You'll- Enemy squadrons inbound."

"Already? That sure didn't take long."

"Luke," Leia usurped the comm. "Be careful out there."

"Sorry, but I can't do that. This is all or nothing, remember?"

"...Then may the Force be with you."

"Oh don't worry," he said with a laugh. "It is."

"Admiral," Lando called from the station monitoring capital ship movements. "You'd better take a look at this."

"What is it?" asked Teshik, even as he crossed to see for himself. Lando merely pointed to the bi-dimensional screen before them, which Teshik examined for all of three seconds before going, "It has to be a ploy. There's no way he could be that stupid."

"What is it?" echoed Leia as she joined them at the terminal.

"One of their rearguard destroyers is taking cover, hiding from the superlaser."

"Could it be their flagship?"

"No, that ship is a decoy. His flag is somewhere in that mass of Star Destroyers that aren't reacting to our presence."

"We're in attack position now sir," announced Jerjerrod. "Did you have a specific target in mind?"

"No," Teshik delineated the aforementioned formation from the remainder of the enemy fleet. "Draw up a random targeting order on these three hundred ninety-six destroyers. You may fire when ready." The words caused the princess to shudder involuntarily.

"Commence primary ignition," Jerjerrod ordered the gunnery crew in the superlaser's control room.

At their current range, the fleet battle looked like two clouds of white, nondescript specs exchanging colorful pinpricks of light while fireflies danced all around. A tiny, square reticle centered itself on the enemy fleet and the image magnified dramatically. The process repeated itself until a single, massive Star Destroyer dominated the main screen. Leia reminded herself that the glittering, off-white behemoth was a enemy warship and not a floating city with a population in excess of thirty thousand.

What's wrong with you? she scolded herself. Hundreds of these ships have been destroyed today. On both sides. This isn't any different. But it was different, and not just viscerally. Except for when the hypermatter reactors were breached, there were at least a few hundred hands that made it to the escape pods, usually much more; and it wasn't like the ships that went nova did so without warning. But this time there would be no warning. The target destroyer's hull was pristine, her shields were at full.

"Fire," said Jerjerrod.

Leia reflexively turned away as the superlaser gave its thunderous report. When she returned her gaze to the viewscreen the Star Destroyer was gone. There was no wreckage, no debris; she was simply gone. Erased, as if the ship and her crew had been excised from naval history by a vindictive deity. A quiet, oft-ignored corner of Leia's mind found the ability to erase problems the size of a Star Destroyer immensely appealing. It's instantaneous, said that corner of Leia's mind. As humane as a disintegration booth. They were all COMPNOR fanatics anyway. It's not like they could have been reeducated.

The image zoomed out again, running a carat across the three hundred ninety-five designated targets. Eventually, the reticle stopped and the unlucky winner of the Superlaser Lottery was blown up to fill the screen.

"Commence primary ignition," the station's commander repeated. Both firing and initializing the weapon required the proper authority, as one couldn't be done without the other. The tremendous buildup of energy had to be released. With the punch of a button the Moff relayed the targeting data to the gunnery crew and waited for the sufficient power level to be reached, which was less than a tenth of a percent of what the superlaser was actually capable of.

"Fire."

This time Leia forced herself to watch as the enemy ship was blown away. The morbid vista gave her some additional perspective. While she still saw no wreckage, it was because her mind wasn't fast enough to process the image. There were debris, but most of it was plasma; scattered in all directions at velocities which had to be straddling the lightspeed barrier. It was still over in an instant, the destruction so fast it maintained the illusion of erasure even while she had witnessed the trick herself. Leia found it strangely comforting. The thought of her people, all her friends and family perishing faster than they could sense it happening eased some of the trauma. Intellectually, she was aware of the weapon's incredible power and its nigh-instantaneous destruction of her homeworld. For the last three years she had used the data gleaned from those reports to tell herself that their death had been quick. Somehow, she had never quite believed the truth of it. A part of her always imagined the end of Alderaan as a violent, protracted affair. But now she understood: Planet or ship, it didn't matter. They were all as sandstone before the awesome might of the Death Star.

"Incredible," she whispered.

"Admiral! What is the meaning of this!?" demanded a rather irate Vader.

With a look that seemed to say 'time to own up' Teshik stepped away from the comm station and grandly gestured for the princess to take his place.

"It was my decision," she began to explain. "I-"

"You're still on the Death Star!?" Less outrage, more shock. "You were supposed to evacuate!"

"Evacuate?" she echoed. "I think you overestimate their chances. Luke is out there, along with some of the best pilots of the Rebellion. I assure you father, I am quite safe here."

"You would be more safe with General Solo."

"She wouldn't listen," Han said in the background.

"Father," Leia said soothingly. "Everything is resting on this battle. If we lose here the Empire will tear itself apart. What kind of leader would I be to abandon my people at a time like this? What kind of message does that send to everyone who's risking their lives for my sake?"

There was a long silence. "You said Luke is defending the station personally?"

"Yes."

"...Very well, I will join him shortly."

"Actually, before you do that... there's something else."

"What is it?"

"Just a hunch, but could you do a quick flyby of the..." she double checked the monitor. "The ISD Aldehon? It's probably a decoy, but it made some suspicious moves when we first appeared. I think it might be the enemy command ship."

"My lord," Teshik cut in. "I'm afraid I must disagree. If we waste time going after obvious decoys we'd only be playing into his hand. We've isolated a group of ships that are more likely to carry his flag."

"How many ships are in this group?"

"Three hundred ninety-five-" The superlaser discharged. "Three hundred ninety-four, my lord."

"That's too many. Too long to take them one by one."

"Which is precisely why we can't afford to waste time. He knows better than to run from the superlaser. With a weapon like that, all you can do is hide. He's not stupid."

"Perhaps not," Vader said easily. "But he's also been... preoccupied. What is the Aldehon's current position?"

"It's at..." Teshik checked the monitor. "That's odd. She's formed up again. Keeping... a low... profile..."

"I thought as much. He's gone back to coordinating his fleet."

"Then you'll do it?" asked Leia.

"No need. I am certain you're correct. Admiral Teshik, I want the Aldehon destroyed immediately. Tell Luke to hold the line. I'll be there as soon as I can, and I'm bringing reinforcements."

***

Forty million minds, thinking as one. No, that wasn't accurate. Most of Nial Declann's Force powers and mental faculties were focused on 'piloting' the thousands of starfighters that were assaulting the Death Star. The capital ship crews required very little supervision... for the most part. Captain Shyler was a regrettable exception. Fortunately, his colossal blunder had been so unthinkably stupid it had gone ignored. By the enemy, anyway. Declann had him escorted to the airlock for that. The fighter crews, on the other hand, required constant support. Most were academy washouts or political appointees who held their station by virtue of doctrinal purity alone. Some weren't fit to drive tanks, never mind starfighters. Others still were rapidly-decanted S-types that wouldn't last a month before succumbing to the madness. That was fine. Declann needed only a few more minutes. Despite fierce resistance from the wings of the traitor fleet and the Death Star itself, several fighters had already entered the superstructure and there wasn't a thing Darth Vader could do about it.

Declann's failure on that front was unfortunate, but in his diminished state Vader had never been more than a secondary objective at best. He had been close; so very, frustratingly close to turning him back, but he had higher priorities than resurrecting the Sith. The extinction of the Order was infinitely preferable to the Jedi ruling the galaxy. He hadn't expected them to commit the Death Star so soon, but in retrospect his assault on the moon below made the confrontation inevitable. Whoever was in charge had apparently decided to face him sooner rather than later; when more of their forces remained for support. Declann couldn't exactly fault them for that, but all they managed in the end was to raise their price. They would still be bought. Without shields and with huge fissures in its incomplete structure, the Death Star's reactor was laid bare. Soon, very soon, his fighters would reach the core and bring this abortive Jedi coup to an abrupt and spectacular end. Perhaps the death of his bastard offspring would do for Vader what personal threats could not.

In the utter silence of his meditation chamber, where not even the sounds of the ship could penetrate, Nial Declann's eyes snapped open. "Aw kriff," he muttered.

 

Excellent and intense action. Everything hinges on the outcome of this battle. Will Declann be eliminated so easily?

 

true there's a lot that can go on in a battle. Maybe this new empire isn't going to last as long as they thought.. Guess we just have to trust in the force

 

I've heard this before. Nice chapter.

 

As he often did, Luke was using the Force to guide him, but his reliance was more pronounced than usual. His sensors struggled to maintain a lock as he raced through the bowels of the Death Star, spraying laser bolts at the TIEs that managed to make it through. Picking out a fighter in the labyrinth of machinery was like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles; so much of the components were similar. The intense radiation masked their ion trails perfectly and their ECM took care of the rest. It was hard enough to navigate the narrow spaces at such high velocities, but doing so while trying to shoot down enemy bandits was a challenge beyond the ken of most mortal pilots. A fair few hadn't made it.

"I can't keep a lock sir," complained an allied TIE pilot.

"You won't be able to," Luke replied quickly. "Target me instead."

"I'm trying sir," the Imperial aviator clarified. "There's too much interference."

"Tau Six," it was Wedge. "Lock on to the strongest power source. They're heading for the generator. Follow the radiation and you'll follow them."

I never would have thought of that, Luke reflected. Do I rely too much on the Force? As he centered another TIE in his sights, the fighter inexplicably crashed into the mass of military plumbing that lined the tunnels. From the comm chatter it was clear he hadn't witnessed an isolated incident. One by one the enemy fighters nicked a protrusion and lost control or collided head-on with the station's internal anatomy.

"What the hell," exclaimed White Twelve. "It's like they just forgot how to fly."

"More like they never knew," Luke said with a grin. "Alright everyone, split up and head back to the surface. We're not out of this yet."

***

Leia watched in fascinated disbelief, transfixed by a hologram that displayed an enemy fleet in utter disarray. The tight, coordinated formation had broken up and several Star Destroyers had even collided in the chaos. Some of the outlying ships were already burning away from the moon's gravity well in full retreat while others tried to ram the Death Star, only to learn she had tens of thousands of turbolasers in addition to the superlaser. The majority, meanwhile, stood their ground and continued to fight while attempting to sort out a new chain of command. Of the three groups, only the first met with any measure of success and by the reinforcements arrived in-system, there was only mopping up to be done. To her surprise, when the last of the enemy ships had finally surrendered and the battle had officially concluded the Imperial personnel on the bridge stood and applauded the princess.

"That's good," said the voice of Ben Kenobi. "You've taken your first step into a larger world."






While the sound was identical to the general quarters alarm that came before it, the all clear siren was the most welcome noise in the universe. Another round of cheering was triggered by the one note blast as officers and enlisted crew alike shed the anxiety and tension of the last hour. It was, perhaps, an improper breach of discipline for a military that made its name on the trait, but it couldn't be helped; most everyone involved knew exactly how close they had come to total defeat and certain death.

The Princess Leia had taken an awful risk by committing the still vulnerable Death Star, but it was a gamble that paid off with dividends. The psychological impact on the enemy alone was immense, and had resulted in exposing Nial Declann's command ship to a one shot destruction by the superlaser. With the loss of their only competent (never mind talented) flag officer, the COMPNOR fleet had been thoroughly routed. Without the dark side adept to guide his fighters, the threat to the Death Star itself was effectively finished. The incomplete yet fully armed battle station had easily turned the tide, saving the allied fleet and those on the surface of the Sanctuary Moon from certain destruction.

Those of the enemy ships that could broke and fled. Others attempted a last-ditch suicide attack on the Death Star. None of the comparatively minuscule destroyers made it through the screen of heavy turbolaser fire. Ships crewed by men with sense came about and prepared to be boarded. The surrenders were genuine, and the stormtroopers who did meet with resistance met with decidedly poor resistance.

Yet the cost, both in manpower and material, had been tremendous. The Imperial Navy's Death Squadron and the sum total of the Alliance Fleet had been devastated. Their flagships, the HIMS Executor and the AFS Home One respectively, had sustained massive casualties and structural damage, the Millennium Falcon included. Barely a third of the three hundred strong amalgamation of Alliance and Imperial ships had survived the battle, and that wasn't counting the nearly complete losses suffered by the fighter wings.

While every one of the enemy Torpedo Spheres had been sunk, they had done their work. The assault on the moon's surface had only stalled when it became clear it was no longer necessary; their ultimate target had broken the shield of its own accord. Firestorms raged across the hemisphere that had seen the heaviest bombardment, and already millions of tons of ash and debris had been thrown into the upper atmosphere. Most of the moon's inhabitants had been spared immediate destruction, but left unassisted they faced an environmental disaster which few would survive.

Still, the woman who considered herself largely responsible was relieved. No matter the cost, it was over. It was finally over and they had won. Despite their losses, they had emerged with a clear and decisive victory. There would be time for mourning and mass funerals later. Now she was caught up in the contagious wave of celebratory fervor. Indiscriminately, she embraced the nearest person who, just by chance, happened to be an Imperial Grand Admiral. She caught herself before he had a chance to reciprocate.

"Admiral!" she exclaimed in embarrassment, color rushing to her cheeks. "I'm so sorry! Here, let me-" she rushed frantically to smooth out his uniform.

Teshik laughed. The sound was inhuman, but not inhumane. "Not at all my lady," he took over the task of straightening the creases in his brilliant white tunic.

Leia exchanged congratulations with Lando and Jerjerrod, but Han and Chewbacca were nowhere to be seen. Finally, when things on the bridge had quieted down a bit, she inquired about Han's whereabouts.

"No idea," said Lando. "He stepped out when he heard about the Falcon. Didn't say where he was going. I wasn't about to ask."

"Can she be salvaged?" asked Leia, clearly concerned. While of great sentimental value, a single, unmanned freighter was a drop in the ocean of lives and ships lost that day. That there hadn't been anyone on the ship was a mercy, but Leia wasn't about to pretend she didn't mourn its loss.

"I'm afraid not," said Lando clinically, as a physician would report the incidence of an incurable illness. While the ship had been his at one point, he appeared outwardly unaffected. Leia knew better. He was wearing his prized sabacc face. "From the Home One's damage report, you could fit what's left in a packing crate. A warhead went off right in the docking bay while she was powered down with no shields. She's gone."

"Lando, I'm so sorry."

"For what? Leia, this is war. These things happen. It's not like it's your fault. Sure, the Falcon may be toast, but so is everything--and everyone--that was in that bay at the time." Lando shook his head. "Han can buy a new ship. Hell, if he sticks with you he can replace that old heap with a Star Destroyer. But the lives lost, those can't be replaced."

"I admire your sense of perspective."

"Hey," said Lando, his voice deadly serious. "Han would tell you the same thing, I'm sure of it. This whole time he was worried about you, Princess. You're what's important to him. If I know Han--and I do--I'd say that what's eating him is how he couldn't protect you. Losing the Falcon is just the galaxy's way of kicking him when he's down."

"Lando, could you-?"

He raised his hands to interrupt her. "Say no more, Your Highness. I'll look for him." Then, with one of his trademark electric smiles. "It's a small station. Shouldn't be hard." Before she could apologize for saddling him with such an insurmountable task he was already out the door.

"Is there a problem, Your Excellency?" Teshik broached.

"No... It's nothing. Have Lord Vader and Prince Skywalker returned yet?"

"Defender Wing is already in debriefing and Omega Squadron is returning to its hangar. The Lord Regent himself should be docking presently."

"Where at? I'd like to meet him."

"I'll have a security detail escort you there."

 

Big, mega relief! Liked Lando's assurances and support. Yup, Han's priority is certainly Leia.

 

Love a space battle and Lando!

 

Thank you both for the read. Yes Lando is rather level headed on the course of events....
RIP Falcon

 

Luke and Leia stood on the catwalk and watched as Vader's fighter returned to its hangar on a pair of magnetic rails. The maintenance crews were sure to be busy, as the spacecraft's radiator wings were shredded and its central pod was scored by the x-rays of nearby nuclear blasts. Unlike the standard TIE/ln and /In, the TIE/ad boasted considerable combat shielding. Between the capabilities of the ship and its pilot, the heavy damage served as testament to the fierce battle both had endured. Yet endure they did, for as Vader ascended the ladder to rejoin his family they could tell that, physically at least, he was none the worse for the wear, though he did look surprisingly odd without his cape. Possessed of better developed senses, it was Luke who was first to notice and inquire about his father's condition.

"I'm fine," Vader assured them, plodding wearily out of the hangar.

Luke sensed that wasn't the whole truth, but didn't press the issue. Instead, "Those Defenders are something else," he said amicably, falling into step at his father's side. "I've flown TIEs before, but those-"

"Teshik tells me a number of enemy fighters made it into the superstructure."

"Yeah..." Luke admitted, more than a bit abashed by his failure. "There was a lot of area to cover, more than I expected. We had thousands of fighters and LTLs on our side, but we couldn't get them all. Still, they all crashed when the Grand Admiral died. Not a scratch on the reactor core."

There was a time, not so very long ago, when Darth Vader wouldn't abide excuses, even in the wake of his own failures. Yet however recent, those were very different times, and a man not so consumed by anger couldn't fault his own son for succeeding to defend a Death Star, if just barely. He could even appreciate the irony of Luke Skywalker, the ace pilot who single-handedly destroyed the first Death Star, helping to save the second. More than anything, he was relieved they were alive and well, though he wasn't eager to repeat the miracle. He told them as much.

"It was never much of a risk," Leia explained. "At least, no more than already existed. Had we waited for them to destroy the shield generator, the Death Star would have still been exposed, but on their terms. Admiral Teshik agrees."

"Still," said Vader, not ready to let the issue drop. "I specifically arranged to have you evacuated if it came to that. There's no reason you couldn't have given the order from somewhere safe."

"Other than the fact that, as an absentee, I'd have no special authority? That would have left Teshik with complete control of the station."

"You said he agreed with your decision," Vader reminded her.

"He did, but only after I assumed full responsibility for that decision."

"No," Vader's voice was somewhat bemused. "That's not how it works, I'm afraid. I appointed him as acting Supreme Commander in my absence. You, on the other hand, have no formal rank or proper authority as princess, even if you'll one day accede to The Throne. The Grand Admiral took your counsel at his discretion, and still bears the responsibility for any decisions made on your behalf."

"...Does he know that?"

"Of course."

Leia felt a bit foolish, throwing her weight around as if she were already Empress. The issue of who held regency, let alone who bore the right to succession, was far from resolved and was unlikely to be for some time. "Nevertheless," she segued easily, still confident in her decision. "What difference does it make if I survive but the Death Star is destroyed? As I understand it, this station is your one and only chance of defending your claim to The Throne. If you lose the Death Star, you lose control of the military."

"I would rather lose both than lose you."

"W-well," she stammered, taken aback by his assertion. "Please try to keep some perspective. I hope you're not doing all this for my sake. I only want what's best for the galaxy and this is the easiest way to achieve it. I don't even think The Throne should exist and I'm only taking it to reverse the damage wrought by its last occupant. Don't think you're doing me any favors."

"The chance to reshape the galaxy as you see fit," Vader mused. "You don't appreciate the gift? Come now, I'm not that shallow. I know you aren't interested in wealth or power, but rather the change you can bring about. The same ideals that compelled you to join the Rebellion now urge you to become the Empress. As I told you before, it is those attributes which make you an ideal successor. So long as The Throne exists, its occupant will wield absolute power. And so long as that's the case, it should be in the hands of someone who doesn't want it. It ensures that you won't abuse that power, that you'll use it responsibly."

At first, anyway, Leia thought morosely. "I think you have undue confidence in my self-restraint. That kind of power could corrupt anyone, which is precisely why it should be dismantled."

"Perhaps," Vader was noncommittal.

"But the point remains," Leia insisted. "Whether I have any actual authority or not I'm still a leader to these people. What would it have done to their morale if I'd fled the system? I didn't flee at Yavin. If I expect these men and women to risk their lives for me they should know I would do the same for them."

"This is the Empire," he reminded her. "The men are accustomed to serving without question. They would do their jobs, even if you'd left."

"Everything that matters rides on the security of this station," she contended. "Even if I survived, its loss would have been the end of any hope the Empire has for reform. Even if my presence had marginal benefit, the risk was well worth it, considering what was at stake. Under different circumstances, yes; my personal security would take greater precedence, but here it hardly mattered."

"In that case," said Vader with renewed resolve. "We should endeavor to avoid such close calls in the future."

Leia smiled. "I won't argue with that."

"Good. Then our first priority is to complete the Death Star and shore up its defenses. When finished, this station will be all but invulnerable." He paused briefly at an intersection of corridors, as if trying to remember which way to go. "It was unwise of me to leave this system so under-defended. I never expected Pestage to react so soon." Quickly he remembered his way and set about it. "We must maintain a much larger fleet presence at Endor, and relocate the Death Star at our earliest opportunity."

"Relocate? To where?"

"I'm not yet sure. Coreward, or at least closer to the major spacelanes. Out here it takes far too long for reinforcements to arrive, and it's more difficult to keep supplied. That will become more important as we hasten construction. We will need the full support of a dedicated shipyard. There's no longer any point to building this weapon in secret."

"Will the Empire withdraw from Endor completely?"

"Of course. This system's one and only merit is its remoteness. Endor is no longer suited to our purpose. ...Why do you ask?"

"The moon's environment was wrecked by the enemy bombardment. That wouldn't have happened were it not for our presence. I believe that it's our responsibility to reverse the damage. I have obligations to the indigenous peoples on the surface, if nothing else. We may be fighting a war, but we mustn't ignore those caught in the crossfire. If the moon is an Imperial preserve, it should be treated as such."

"The moon's inhabitants are savage barbarians... and worse. They've made themselves a nuisance since our arrival. I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish."

"We've managed to reach an understanding with one of the Ewok tribes," said Luke. "In fact, I believe we're honorary members."

"We're full members," corrected Leia, a look of smug satisfaction crossing her face. "And that Ewok tribe is a full member of the Alliance, which is an associated state of the Empire; which, in turn, is obligated to protect its sanctuary preserves."

"Alright," Vader relented. "I will send for a relief force at my earliest convenience. Anything else?" he asked wearily.

"The prisoners," said Leia. "What will happen to them?"

"I will need to discuss that with the military," said Vader, pressing the button to summon the turbolift. "I presume you favor a lenient approach."

"I do. They may be our enemies, but they're still loyal Imperial citizens. We've taken a harsh stance toward the Commission out of necessity, but we won't get anywhere in the long run if we adopt the kind of zero tolerance policy they're are so fond of. That won't reunite the galaxy, it will only aggravate the growing schism. Our supporters are calling themselves the Reconciliation, remember? It behooves us to be magnanimous in victory."

"You make a convincing case." Vader stepped into the lift, signaling for them not to follow. "I trust you can do it again later before my cabinet?"

"You've formed one already?"

"Not quite. I was hoping you could help me with that as well."

"Sure, but where you going now?"

"I must speak with one of my servants on Imperial Center. I have suspicions I need to confirm." And with that, the doors to the lift closed and the Skywalker siblings were, aside from a noisy, trundling mouse droid, alone in the corridor.

"You two are getting along pretty well," Luke observed.

"You think so? He seemed pretty cranky to me."

"Mm," Luke confirmed, "but it's got nothing to do with you. At least, not directly. He was tempted out there," he said gravely. "Tempted by the dark side."

"Is he dangerous?" she inquired with all seriousness. "To be around, I mean? Can he regress at any moment and kill us all?"

"No," Luke chuckled. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he's safe as long as we're safe. The dark side is a means to an end, but for a Jedi, the end can never justify the means. I'll admit it's an unconventional ethos, but it's there for a reason. A lot of Dark Jedi fell to protect or avenge the object of their attachment, or in service to what were, ultimately, laudable goals."

"And how did he turn?"

Luke fidgeted uncomfortably, and Leia got the clear impression she wasn't going to like the answer. "Our father... went to the dark side in order to save our mother. Sometimes, when Jedi meditate we have visions. When we sleep we have dreams. But through the Force our dreams and visions can show us images of reality. Sometimes we can even see the future."

"Like when you came for us at Cloud City."

"Exactly. Father was troubled by nightmares of our mother's death. Nightmares so strong he was convinced of their inevitability. Desperate for a way to prevent her death, he joined forces with Darth Sidious, the Sith Lord you and I know as the Emperor Palpatine."

"He was president of the Old Republic back then."

"Right. Palpatine convinced him that he knew the secret of immortality, and as things happened Father was forced to chose between his loyalty to the Jedi or his loyalty to the Republic and to his wife."

"Wait, you're telling me that the Jedi actually were traitors to the Republic? That the old COMPNOR sound byte is actually true?"

"Er- well, yes. I suppose it is, technically. But only because of the way Palpatine set it up. When it became known that the Chancellor was a Sith Lord, the Jedi moved to have him removed from office. Forcibly. They had no hard evidence beyond our father's testimony, and much of the Empire's bureaucracy was already in place by then. There was no way they could have defeated him legally. And while Father was the one to expose him in the first place, he says he was forced to turn on the Jedi in order to save Palpatine's life."

"And, in turn, our mother's, or so he believed."

"That's right. With that he ceased to be Anakin Skywalker the Jedi Master and became Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. He helped the newly-formed Empire exterminate the Jedi Knights, and all to save our mother. But the future is always in motion, and the things we see aren't always in context."

"...He killed her." Leia gasped at the sudden flash of intuition. "He murdered her, didn't he?"

"...Yes. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"But how? Why?" she demanded, tears welling from the impact of it all.

"Mother was worried about him, and rightly so. She turned to the one person close enough to help them. She turned to Old Ben. Who, as a Jedi, was now his sworn enemy. What's more, Ben was tasked with killing Vader. She led Ben to him, and Father killed her in anger at her supposed betrayal. That's why the powers of the dark side must never be used, Leia. No matter what's at stake, no matter what your intentions are. You become a living embodiment of elemental destruction, and your anger will spare no one. Not even those you love the most."

 

Excellent discussion about whether Leia should have left and what sort of message that would have sent, and about what should be done next.

Loved the talk between sibs! Philosophical discussions always fascinate. Luke is right: the Dark Side is a voracious indiscriminate beast that swallows up those you love and all your good intentions.

 

Thank you for the read Nyota's Heart. I enjoyed being able to show some sort of deep discussion from Luke about the force.

 

The Dark Side always turns out to be the "means," but the payoff is never what you thought it would be. Nice chapter.

 

Now, what'll Han make of all that's happened, I wonder, and how will this affect him and Leia's relationship? Will he want to be Imperial Consort?

 

Can you imagine himself introducing himself as that? haha that would be something.

 

"Are you certain you won't reconsider?" asked Osvald Teshik, well aware of what the answer would be. The twelve--now ten--Grand Admirals of the Imperial Navy were just as proficient in politics as they were in warfare. Some were actually better at the names and numbers game than they were at tactics or strategy. Rufaan Tigellinus was one of these, unprecedented in the Imperial State's (admittedly short) history. Not only was he a Grand Admiral but a Grand Moff, the regional governor of Imperial Center Oversector. I guess we'll see how the Core Worlders react to a war in their backyard again. 'Again'? Forget that. This succession business will make the Clone Wars look like a live fire exercise.

"I'm afraid not old chap," Tigellinus answered with affected sympathy and manufactured regret. "As I said, I'm beholden to the Palace; and so long as the Councils are there to issue decrees I am obliged to heed them. Not all of us are so swift to abandon the rule of law the instant the Rebels acquire a Death Star."

"The rule of law?" Teshik snorted, ignoring the dig at his loyalty and courage. "What does the law have to say about the succession? Nothing! That's the cause of all this trouble. The Councils are willing to tear the Empire apart, and all to keep themselves in power."

"The same could be said of your new liege," Tigellinus countered, punctuating the comment with a sip of his blush wine. "Vader's regency is blatantly illegal. He's been disinherited by both the Emperor's Ruling and Privy Advisory Councils. His involvement in the 'accidental' death of our late Emperor only further discredits his claim. You can't honestly believe he's the legitimate successor to Palpatine."

"And what does the Supreme Court have to say about that?"

"Oh, they'll come around," Tigellinus said easily. "As will the Moffs. Death Star or no, every day your little junta scratches around on the Rim you lose more of your already scarce legitimacy. Think you the Councils have been resting on their laurels? Think you the Commission's been defeated?"

"They've certainly learned the futility of assaulting this station," Teshik said defiantly.

"If you're so unassailable, then come here and prove it. Please, I insist. Come here and take Imperial Center for me. Free me from Isard and her band of thugs."

"Until this battle station is completed we are still vulnerable. We cannot risk- Wait, Isard? The Director of Imperial Intelligence? What about Pestage?"

"What, you haven't heard? No, I suppose you wouldn't have." Tigellinus finished his glass before continuing. "The Grand Vizier is finished. He wagered all his political capital on COMPNOR's ill-advised gambit. He's been forced to step down as Lord Regent and disappeared shortly thereafter. This, of course, set off a new round of squabbling between the various Councilors until the Ubiqtorate swept in to occupy the vacuum in the name of 'State security'; using the threat posed by your Death Star as an excuse to instate martial law. It appears that your Rebel princess isn't the only woman who fancies herself the first Galactic Empress."

"I'm sure COMPNOR was thrilled about that."

"Ah, you should have seen the look on Ishin's face!" he laughed. "But there's little they can do about it, what with failing to kill you and all. The ISB will just have to swallow its pride and take orders from Iceheart, though that is an awful lot of pride to swallow. That's partly why I called you, Osvald. It's only fair to warn you in advance: Whatever support you may have had from the Intelligence Service is finished. I think you'll find that not even your Sith Lord and his Death Star can hold the military together. Not after he kills the Emperor and defects to the Rebellion."

"I think you grossly misunderstand our agreement with the Alliance. We've ended the Rebellion, we haven't joined it."

"Yes, ended it," he chortled. "By giving them everything they asked for! Really, Osvald. Since when does the Empire appease its enemies? We take systems, we don't concede them. As I understand it you had the chance to crush the Rebellion completely, but alas your Sith Lord's bastard children whined about that, didn't they? I've read the text of that 'peace treaty'. It's rather more like a surrender. Surrender, Admiral! To the remnants of the bygone Republic and their alien allies! How are we supposed to interpret that?"

Grand Admiral Rufaan, the Grand Moff Tigellinus poured himself another drink. "I can give you seventy-two hours Admiral, nothing more. My relationship with the Director is already strained to its limit. Seventy-two hours; three standard days. If your fleets are still in my oversector by then I will have no choice but to commence hostilities. Please try to understand the position I'm in."

"All-out war," Teshik muttered, mostly to himself. "In the very heart of the Empire. On a scale not seen in decades. Is there nothing you can do to help me prevent that?"

"I've done all I can; rather more than I should be expected to, I must say. I'm sorry it's come to this Osvald, I really am, you're one of the Navy's finest officers. But treachery and cowardice come at a high price in the Empire," his hologram gestured to Teshik's copious implants. "I would have thought you'd learned that by now."

"Well, thank you anyway Rufaan," somehow, Teshik's voice managed to convey more emptiness than usual.

"Seventy-two hours, Osvald. After that, the game is afoot." With that, Tigellinus' hologram blinked out.

"Rufaan, you fool," he said aloud. "I'm not about to give you three days to prepare. No, it's on now 'old chap'. And it's not a game either, you blasted idiot."

***

Han Solo had been to every tavern, bar and cantina in the galaxy. Not literally, of course, but it was a perception he often maintained; at least until he arrived at the next one and found himself immersed in a whole new set of sights, sounds, tastes and smells. As it turned out, the Death Star had bars. Thousands of them. It was one of those facts that were surprising at first but obvious in retrospect. Millions upon millions of men and women lived and worked on that moon-sized battle station, and it was foolish to believe they spent every waking hour standing around looking ruthless, with no diversionary activities beyond droid abuse.

"Not every day we get a general down here," the barkeep said in a thick Core Worlds accent. "Especially not a Rebel general. What will be?"

"Corellian spiced ale."

"And your slave?"

Chewbacca stood up from his stool, towering over the bartender menacingly and emitting the low, rumbling growl that served as the prelude to gratuitous violence. The Imperial's smug grin vanished at point five past lightspeed.

"He's no slave," Han informed him casually. "And he'll have a Cortyg brandy. With ice."

"O-of course," the barman stammered, ducking away to fill the order and escape from the looming, inhuman presence. Chewbacca huffed after the man, making disparaging comments about his mother. The insults were lost on the bartender, who clearly wasn't a polyglot.

"Easy Chewie," Han said in a low voice. "Remember where we are." It was hard not to. While the pub was darker and less spartan than most of the station, the off-duty military personnel served as a clear reminder that they were on an Imperial base. Most of the cantina's patrons were from one of the civilian firms contracted for the station's construction, but there were more than a few enlisted men celebrating their continued existence. Han and Chewie had been the center of attention since they entered the bar, but the servicemen were under strict orders to let the ex-Rebels alone. The construction workers, however, apparently didn't get the memo. The amount leering and jeering was proportional to blood-alcohol levels.

Chewbacca asked how long they would be staying.

"If they start something we'll finish it. But they've got to start it."

The Wookiee clarified that he meant aboard the Death Star in general.

"Good question," Han said bitterly. "As long as it takes us to finagle a ship, I guess. I'm sure Luke or Leia can pull some strings." He pounded the bar in a fit of anger and the workers, assuming themselves to be the irritant quieted down a bit. "Kriff," he seethed just loud enough to be heard. "This is the worst. I can't even remember the last time we didn't have a ship. No ship, Chewie. None. Us. This isn't how it's supposed to be. Of all the stupid kriffing luck. Some deity has it in for me, I swear."

Chewbacca opined that the chances of that were remote.

"I just- I always imagined she'd go out in a blaze of glory; in the middle of a furball of fighters or ramming an enemy warship. Not like that. Not just blown up in the hangar like that. How cheap is that, anyway? She deserved better."

Chewie pointed out that their survival made the circumstances surrounding the Falcon's destruction preferable, if unjust.

"It's just one damn thing after another though, Chewie. I swear, I'm as useless as tits on a nydfritt. Useless and stupid. And now we're marooned on a kriffing Death Star."

Chewbacca said nothing, content that the necessary, cathartic rant was imminent.

But it never came. "Maybe I died on Bespin," Han said feebly. "Maybe I'm just some idiot who thinks he's Han Solo. Maybe the carbon freeze killed me, and I'm in hell. None of this seems real. Nothing seems right."

"You may be right," said a familiar voice. "The Han Solo I know wouldn't mope around like some angsty teenager."

"Blow off, Lando," Han growled. "I don't need a damned lecture. Not now. I just lost the kriffing Falcon."

"Been there," said Lando, sliding onto the stool next to him. "I lost her to you, remember?"

"Yeah? Well this is slightly different."

"I don't see how. We both wagered the ship and lost. But let's cut the crap. You and I both know that's not what's bothering you."

"Yeah?"

The bartender arrived with the drinks, took Lando's order and made himself scarce once again.

Lando sighed. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you? Well here it is: Your pride's been shot up worse than the Falcon, Han. You just can't stand not being the swashbuckling hero who saves the day and gets the girl. And you're too damned stubborn to just be glad that you didn't need to save the day and that you've already have the girl."

Han said nothing, which told Lando he was beginning to get through.

"And your girlfriend's about to inherit the Empire. It doesn't get much sweeter than that, yet here you are, being all mopey and feeling sorry for yourself. Why? Because you lost a beat up old freighter? That's just stupid. You stick with her and you can cruise the galaxy in a Star Destroyer."

"You don't 'fly' a ship that size," countered Han, his voice lacking a bit of its previous edge. "And I'd never own a shoddy piece of Kuati crap like that."

Lando laughed. "So get yourself another light freighter. Something built by the red-blooded Corellian shipwrights. The point stands. You've finally made it big. A whole galaxy, more wealth than you can imagine."

"I can imagine-"

"No," Lando interrupted. "You can't. You can't even begin to grasp what you'll have at your disposal. The combined resources of an entire galaxy. The human brain can't process it. Her net worth will have to be described in scientific notation."

Han sighed, "And that's exactly why this won't work. What good am I to her? What could she possibly see in me? I'm no use to her, I can't even protect her and now- Now she can have any man in the galaxy. Literally. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"You're a general and a hero of the Rebellion. You're a household name on virtually every planet with HoloNet access. It's not like you're some nobody."

"My commission's a joke," Han growled, angrily tearing the rank pips off his collar. "I don't know the first thing about large-scale surface maneuvers. It's just another publicity stunt. More grist for the propaganda mill."

"You're also missing the point. You don't need to compete. She already cares about you, Han. Women don't chose men like a businessman screens employees. The politics and economics of it aren't important to her and they shouldn't be important to you. Not if you really care about her. You'll make it work. You both will."

Han was quiet for a long time as Lando's words sunk in. Finally, "So what am I supposed to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Han raised his voice in exasperation.

"You going to resign your commission?"

"Yeah," said Han after taking a moment to think it over. "What about you?"

"The war's over," Lando said with a shrug. "The one I signed on for, anyway. You thinking about joining up with the Empire?"

"Not interested," Han replied, a little too quickly.

"Yeah, me neither."

"Hey, I'm sure you can go back to Cloud City now."

"That smalltime operation?" Lando scoffed, "I don't think so. Not when I'm friends with the Empress." He laughed. "No, I'm not like you. I plan on taking full advantage of this particular development."

"How respectable," Han said sarcastically, his good humor restored.

"They say that Coruscant is a cesspit of cronyism and corruption," Lando mused, swirling the ice in his glass. "I've got to get me some of that."

"She plans to put an end to all that," Han pointed out.

"Ha! Campaign promises! We'll see how long that lasts. But don't worry," he said seriously. "I'm sure she'll do a fine job. So... you're definitely going back to the pirate sector?"

"I never said that," Han affected a hurt tone. "I'll never go back to the old days." Then, with that Han Solo grin, "Not without a ship."

 

Like Teshik more with each post. And Rufaan - with his "affected sympathy and manufactured regret" (great phrasing there)... He just oozes hypocrisy

~~!
Superb Han/Lando talk there and excellent on-spot characterization. Lando made good points about everything, ship-wise and Leia-wise.

 

Always felt like the Imperial higher ups would have that dirty politician feeling to them.

 

Admiral Ackbar stood to attention as Mon Mothma appeared on the bridge of the Home One, one of the few surviving capital ships of the Alliance Fleet. Truth be told, it was merely a bridge, and not the bridge. The warship's proper bridge had been destroyed in the fighting, and the command crew had relocated to one of the auxiliary control centers deep within the ship. Fortunately, Ackbar had shown the foresight to abandon the tower before its shields were lost completely, and the military's most senior officers were spared the fate of that relatively flimsy protrusion.

"Admiral Ackbar," Mothma offered a warm but weary smile. "Please, as you were. It's good to see you well."

Despite her proclamations of happiness, even Ackbar, who had trouble reading human body language and facial features could tell she was tired; thanks in part to his own imminent collapse. "Likewise, Your Excellency. Have the Imperials kept you informed, or do I need to bring you up to speed?"

"That won't be necessary, my friend. They were quite accommodating. You could have easily led the defense from the command center they set up for us."

It had been Ackbar's decision to remain aboard the Home One during the signing ceremony. Partly as a measure of prudence, but mostly because he wasn't interested in attending. Not that it mattered, of course. As expected, despite his position as second only to the Supreme Commander herself, in the joint task force at Endor his rank was eclipsed by that of Osvald Teshik. The Alliance Fleet didn't have such lofty admirals; it wasn't large enough to warrant them. And had that not been the case before, it certainly was the case now. Still, as did most beings in his position, Ackbar maintained something of a stubborn streak. He was willing to pass along the Grand Admiral's orders (so long as he agreed with them), but chafed at the prospect of being left out of the chain completely, a fate he would have courted had he been on the Death Star during the attack.

"Anyhow, I am about to retire for the evening, presuming my cabin was not among the day's casualties. I suggest you do the same, Admiral. But before you do, why don't you take a look at this?" She held out a datapad for him.

"What is it?" asked Ackbar, even as he took the pad to see for himself.

"A gift from our new allies, a token of the Princess Leia's appreciation."

Ackbar's jaw gaped, his left eye dilating as it scanned the tiny display "Four hundred eighteen Imperator II-class Star Destroyers? This is a joke, yes? Madam President, I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, it's no joke. Those are the enemy ships captured today. Well, most of them, anyway. She had offered us half again that number, but frankly we haven't the personnel to support that many. Even those will be operating with skeleton crews for the foreseeable future. But as you can see, this more than recoups our material losses for the day."

"This recoups our material losses for the entire war," he rasped. "Most of these ships are brand new, commissioned just a few months ago. Are you telling me they didn't want them?"

"That appears to be the case. In fact, Grand Admiral Teshik implied that we'd be doing him a favor. You see, those vessels are--were-- the property of the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order. They don't actually belong to the Imperial Navy. I was led to believe that the proper acquisition procedure is some kind of bureaucratic nightmare he'd sooner just avoid."

"Four hundred Imperator IIs," Ackbar reminded her, his voice saturated with skepticism. "He's willing to pass up four hundred Imperator IIs in order to spare himself the paperwork."

"Probably not in actuality, but I've sat on enough committees to say it's plausible enough. 'Small change for the Imperial Navy.' Those were Admiral Teshik's words verbatim."

"In that case," replied Ackbar, the Calamari approximation of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, "the Alliance of Free Planets is happy to assist."

"Indeed, and that's precisely what I told him. This is a most auspicious development. Now we won't depend on the Empire to secure our territory as previously feared; though we will still need their aid should one of the splinter groups come calling."

"Is there a particular danger of that?"

"They don't seem to think so, but the princess assured me of their continuing commitment to our security. While the Imperial government on Coruscant has explicitly rejected the Treaty of Endor, I daresay they'll be a mite preoccupied to go attacking a dozen sectors on the Outer Rim. Nevertheless, she has promised to aid us in that event."

"So, they're really going to war over this succession nonsense," Ackbar shook his head, baffled.

"It appears so. What, you're surprised? This was our plan all along. With Palpatine dead his regime is tearing itself apart; and, while we didn't intend on backing one of the claimants regent, the end result is the same. The Empire will either destroy itself or transform into something more agreeable. While I do worry for the princess and hers, either end will ultimately suffice."

"On that note," said Ackbar, stroking his barbels thoughtfully. "If they withdraw Coreward that could present some interesting opportunities."

Mothma's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you suggesting an incursion into Imperial territory?"

Ackbar raised a correcting finger, "Only if they leave it open for us." He rose to his feet again and approached the holoprojector, calling up a tri-dimensional image of the primary galaxy, the major regions of its planar disk delineated and color-coded.

"I had an opportunity to discuss this with General Madine, believe it or not. We both agreed that, should the Empire suffer a civil war, both sides--assuming there are only two--will pull the bulk of their naval assets Coreward. Depending on the extent of the fighting, they may withdraw as far as the Inner Rim. Compared to securing the Core, Colonies and Expansion Regions, the Rim is of marginal importance, to say nothing of the Satellites and the extraplanar frontier. There's a good chance that the governors of those regions will secede from the Empire proper, as per our original projections of a post-Palpatine galaxy."

"The Death Star was never a factor in those projections," Mothma pointed out.

The Mon Calamari gave a slow, singular nod. "That's true, but they may believe themselves too small to warrant the attention of either side as they vie for the very Core, Death Star or not."

"That strikes me as a dangerous assumption on their part," Mothma contended. "While I don't doubt many of the regional governors would like to become lowercase emperors, as soon as the war is over the victors will move to bring them back under their influence; violently, in all probability."

"You're assuming the Vader faction will lose, even with their Death Star?"

"Not at all, and the overwhelming supremacy they'll enjoy once that weapon is complete makes secession all the more dangerous. Wilhuff Tarkin was monster, not a fool; wrong in action, not in fact."

Ackbar seemed to consider this idea for an instant before shaking his head, visibly discarding it. "It won't work."

"What won't work?"

"The Death Star. The weapon won't work in that capacity because they won't use it. Don't misunderstand, it's too her credit that she wouldn't destroy a planet. No self-respecting daughter of Alderaan would. But all it takes is one warlord to call her bluff and it's over. One opponent to question her resolve and that battle station becomes a sandstone krakana. Or, more accurately, a really big and expensive siege weapon. A Torpedo Sphere writ large. The linchpin of the Tarkin Doctrine was that the threat of force was always genuine. If Leia Organa threatens to blow up your planet, would you take her seriously? Would anyone?"

"That's... a fair point," she conceded. "One I hadn't considered until now. So, you're telling me that the remnants on the Rim will go rogue, believing neither side will bother with them? One unable, the other unwilling?" She shook her head. "I still don't see how that follows. Surely the Empire will go after them--even with conventional forces--once the succession issue is settled. They still don't have a hope of resisting a forced reincorporation."

Ackbar raised his right index a second time. "That, Madam President, is where we come in."

"I don't understand."

"It's fair to assume that the Vader faction will prevail, correct? That Mistress Organa will become Galactic Empress?"

Mothma huffed. "It's difficult to imagine otherwise."

"And unpleasant," Ackbar agreed. "I must admit, I'm making some large assumptions about her ideals and loyalties, so I ask you: Would she move to reincorporate those territories if they've already been liberated?"

"Liberated... by us, you mean?" Mothma brought a hand to her mouth, and even Ackbar could see that her mind was racing to evaluate his line of reasoning. Finally, she shook her head. "We're too weak. We have just enough assets to hold the capital until reinforcements arrive. With our paltry fleet, we wouldn't stand a chance against the weakest Imperial sector, let alone a coalition of them."

"At the moment no, of course not, but we don't know how long this war will last. We're a sovereign state now; officially recognized by the Empire; half of it, anyway. For the first time, we no longer have to hide, we don't need to build in secret. We can freely and fully mobilize now, and all in the open. The shipyards at Dac can run at full capacity, building proper warships."

"Still," Mothma insisted. "We're talking about years before reaching a level of readiness on par with an Imperial sector, and I'm certain the interregnum will be over by then, one way or another."

"Heh," Ackbar chuckled. "We've gone from a guerrilla insurgency to a legitimate state in less than a day." He tapped the side of his enormous head. "Pretensions aside, asymmetrical war is still our specialty. I trust the greater network is still intact?"

"Of course."

"Your Excellency, I don't think we should be so quick to abandon our true objective. You know very well it was never just about deposing Palpatine. Until today, we were the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Some have taken issue with your... liberal interpretation of the Declaration in order to justify this armistice."

"And you?"

Ackbar nodded his head gravely.

"I see. Well, I can't say I don't sympathize, but do try to understand; should Leia Organa become Galactic Empress, we will have a unique and unexpected opportunity to reform the Empire from within. If our objectives can be achieved without war, it is our duty as enlightened beings to take that route."

"I understand," said Ackbar. "And I agree, but all this is based on the assumption that the princess intends to restore the Republic." He made direct eye contact. "Is that the case?"

Mon Mothma was silent.

Ackbar sighed, "There are those of us--yes, myself included--who find even a benevolent monarchy odious. A paternalistic dictator is still a dictator. I have nothing but respect for Princess Leia, but she's still a princess. A monarchy, however limited, runs counter to the basic principles of the Republic. Leaders must be elected by the people, or appointed by those who are. Anything less is a form of slavery, even if slaves can, on occasion, be fond of their masters and if masters can be kind to their slaves. Monarchies were always free to join the Republic, but the Republic itself must never become one."

"Consider who we're dealing with," he continued. "Grand Admirals. Grand Moffs. Sith Lords. We've had some unsavory allies in the past, but this is a new low. How long have we dreamed of putting the likes of Darth Vader and Osvald Teshik on trial for their crimes? Our new 'friends' are mass-murderers, xenocidal racists, war criminals, and yet, in one stroke of a stylus they've been granted immunity. Not only that, but they've been allowed to keep their positions and will, in all probability, become more powerful than ever before!"

He grew quiet, and even more somber than before, "When I attained my freedom, I joined your cause to help others find theirs. Tell me Mon, and tell me honestly, would the subjects of this kinder, gentler Empire truly be free? Is it not possible, even likely, for the young Mistress Organa to grow fond of her station?"

Mothma reflected on the dual meaning of the word 'station' in this context before asking, "What would you suggest?"

"Only that we keep our options open. There's no question we should favor this 'Reconciliation' over the likes of COMPNOR; but if we play this right, we may be able to have our New Republic after all."

 

Hello all!
I have come up with an idea that I wanted to pass on to you. For the next few chapters of Jedi Empire we will be in this present time, but coming soon we will have a time jump of a few years. What I was thinking was to add some of you into the story. Just to add some new characters and such into the Universe. So feel free to comment what you think you would be doing in this universe. Now I might change some things but please feel free!

Nyota's Heart, Revanfan1, DarthFurio
skygawker, Raissa Baiard, Chyntuck, Ewok Poet