Hallin breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way past the staged blast doors close to the Destroyer’s bridge, glad to be free of the Emperor’s close scrutiny, though quite obviously the fact was that he couldn’t have been farther from the Emperor’s thoughts. Still, he wondered again how Luke could stand to be the subject of the Emperor’s close and critical scrutiny day after day. Why he stayed at all.
But then Palpatine was a master of manipulations, playing complex mistruths and malicious misdirections and veiled suggestions with subtle ease and devastating effect, some glimpse of which had been afforded Hallin in discussion with Luke earlier that year.

It had followed yet another internment in the cell beneath the Palace – his most recent, though that was now five months ago. When first they’d happened, and Luke had no-one whom he particularly trusted here, no-one had known the specifics of where Luke disappeared to, often for days or weeks at a time, always following some antagonism or challenge of the Emperor on Luke’s part, be it private or public. The official line – and one quickly learned never to question the official line here – was that Luke had been retained on a classified assignment by the Emperor, and would return when it was complete. Slowly though, without ever needing to address the facts directly, Hallin had realized the truth, though it had been years before he’d dared to ask others in Luke’s close retinue whether they too knew. Jade knew – had always known; was in some way involved, Hallin suspected – though neither she nor Luke ever made mention of it.

All Hallin knew for sure was that when he returned Luke remained quiet, reserved and introvert for days, as much out of exhaustion and injury as from the trial of facing off against Palpatine one more time.

But the onerous ordeals which had once been common lessened over time, in number if not in content, as the Emperor found new ways to control or chastise. This last time had been no different, Luke reappearing after four days, battered and scuffed, walking slowly and painfully from the main entrance, where Clem had announced his unexpected arrival, to his private quarters, one hand to the wall, ordering anyone who came forward away in clipped, breathless tones. Hallin had long since learned not to go; to let Luke make his own way back no matter what his condition, knowing that it was a matter of principle for Luke that he walked even this last stretch alone.

When he'd first been returned to the cell beneath the Palace fro chastisement, Palpatine had set in place the that on his release, Luke was always taken, unconscious, to the Emperor's apartments, the first medical treatment he recieved always by Palpatine's medics. The established routing became that until Luke was capable of standing and walking the long distance from the Emperor's apartments back to his own under his own power, he was not allowed to leave. If he tried too early and failed, Luke was returned to Palpatine's apartments exhausted, his recovery that much delayed for his exertion. Another little trial put in place for no other reason that Palpatine's amusement, Nathan suspected. Another little wordless battle of wills between himself and his Jedi.

So tonight, as he always did, Nathan forced himself to wait in Luke's private quarters, biding his time and making what little medical diagnosis he could from six paces away, and biting his tongue against the need to offer solace. It was well past midnight, and Luke collapsed down onto his bed still-dressed, Nathan leaving him exactly as he was, knowing better than to try to help undress him, instead sitting down on the chaise to the far side of the huge room. Just once, Luke had glanced to Nathan, daring him to make comment, but Nathan had looked away with a self-effacing 'we both know this game' shrug, and Luke had let his eyes drift closed, giving in to exhaustion as Nathan had remained, quietly watchful throughout the night.

Nathan had remained close fro the next few days, though Luke would seldom tolerate any attention, medical or otherwise. Instead he'd remain silent and insular, clearly playing the same thoughts over and over in his head, and all Nathan could do was wait for the explanation which it took Luke almost another two days to put into words, and even then in only the vaguest terms to begin with.

He remembered distinctly sitting in patient, attentive silence, watching the warm orange glow as the sun slowly settled to dusky copper. Remembered wondering if he would have to wait out another long day in silence until Luke had put his thoughts in order sufficiently to voice them, when Luke looked up to Nathan and, as if this was the continuation of a long-standing discussion, asked, “Do you believe it’s possible to spontaneously create life?”

Nathan blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question which had clearly been running endlessly through Luke’s thoughts for days now.

“I suppose….” Nathan considered, pulling his thoughts together, aware of expectant eyes on him. “I suppose scientifically I must- at some point, life was created from the random interaction of certain molecules which maintained integrity. A single-cell organism came into being. Every life-form is another expression of that random interaction; the biological creation of a new species, the driving force of nature to evolve. The whole galaxy is a manifestation of the spontaneous creation of life.”

“But do you think it’s possible to spontaneously create complex life- a human life?”

“Human life? No, I don’ believe so. If it were, there would be documented cases.”

“But you said yourself that nature seeks to evolve- to push the boundaries of potential. And even a human life begins with the division of a single cell.”

“But there must be an outside catalyst which stimulates that cell division. It can’t happen in isolation.”

“There are species which can spontaneously conceive.”

“But they’re not human. Their physiology is very different; it’s taken literally millennia for that ability to evolve. Human physiology requires an outside influence.”

Luke had moved uncomfortably against aches and pains, his bruises still darkening from angry scarlet to deep purple. “What if that outside influence were the Force?”

Nathan set his head to one side, prepared to continue the debate because it had so clearly been praying on Luke’s mind, though he felt he was charting unknown territory, “Now you’re asking me to comment outside of my field of expertise. I suppose my answer would have to be, you tell me?”

Luke looked away, forehead furrowed in thought, seeking to follow the argument through to its natural conclusion; “We’re talking about the division of a single cell... the Force can operate at a molecular level within the body- that’s how we heal ourselves.”

“So then, are you saying that a Jedi would have the potential to create life within their own system?”

“But we can use the ability to heal on others too. The Force is, at its most basic level, a molecular entity. I don’t make a conscious decision to work at a molecular level and I’m not specifically aware of doing so, but if I can reach into another body and manipulate the organisms within at that level to destroy an infection or disperse a drug, with the proper knowledge surely I would be able to divide a single cell?”

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, “Are you intending to do so?”

Luke glanced up, shocked that Nath would even consider him willing to try such a thing, “Me? No- no of course not. I’m just…” He trailed off, leaving Nathan to gaze at him uneasily, searching the reason for this sudden intense preoccupation.

Luke remained silent for a long time, lost in thought again, mind clearly racing. When he finally looked up it was with another question, “If, theoretically, a Force-sensitive were able to do that- to manipulate the Force and induce life in another human being… would the life which had been created have any real link to its creator? Would it carry its creator’s characteristics as if they had been a physical donor, good and bad? Or would it be solely a creation of the Force- and if so, would it carry the fingerprint, the orientation, of that which had been used to create it?

“Those are big questions,” Nathan said gravely, but Luke’s eyes steady on him made him consider. “Theoretically - medically - it would carry only the genetic makeup of the human parent. Only their DNA could be present so only their DNA would be available for use. So you’re effectively talking about a type of clone.”

“But would the Force itself - the midichlorians which induced the cell-split - become the second donor? If it did, that child would hold an unprecedented midichlorian count… a connection at a more basic level than any before. But if that were so, then would the aspect of the Force used to create it, be the aspect of the Force which to which it would be inescapably attuned?”

Realization slowly dawned on Nathan that this was a more personal discussion than it seemed. "Are you... talking about yourself?"

Luke shook his head just slightly, "No... no, I'm talking about my father - and Palpatine.."

Nathan fell to a shocked, considered silence as the far-reaching implications slowly dawned.

It went to Luke then, to ask the next logical question, one that he clearly didn’t want to believe possible but he felt he had to consider; “Could the genetic footprint of the instigator be passed on through the Force? Would they be, to all intents and purposes, a biological donor?

“I don’t think so- individual genetic make-up is incredibly complex.”

“So is the Force. It has the ability to influence a sentient mind, to affect individual perceptions and memories, to communicate without words even over extended distances. Human DNA is at its most basic a construct- it has mathematical, reproducible margins. Could that pattern of DNA be reproduced by the Force- and if so, would that constitute a biological link? ”

Nathan was silent for long moments. “That’s… that’s way out of my experience or field of knowledge. Anything I said would at best be conjecture. Without proof, it’s all little more than speculation and supposition anyway.”

Luke nodded thoughtfully and fell to silence for a few seconds. When he looked up again his voice was very sure, as if voicing his agreement with Nathan. “I need a sample of Palpatine’s blood.”

The words left Nath near-speechless.

“Anything else?” He managed at last, voice high with shock.

“Yes- Vader’s.”

“Of course! Whilst I’m at it, why don’t I get you a sample of…..” Nathan struggled to finish the sentence; “I’d say something even more outrageous but I think you’ve actually topped off the scale there.”

“I realise it will be difficult,”

“Difficult?!”

“But this is important, Nath.” Luke said, voice steel. “To me- to everything I’m trying to do.”

“Is it though? What would really change if it were true, aside from your self-perception?”

Luke shook his head, “I won’t be the next Palpatine.”

Nathan glanced down, uneasy, “You’re not Palpatine.”

“I’m getting a little more like him every day. I can see it Nath, so I don’t believe you can’t.”

“You’re learning to deal with him- to operate within that world, to use it to your advantage, that’s all.”

“The logical conclusion of that statement is that in order to nullify Palpatine, I would have to become him.” Luke argued quietly. “He once… he once said to me - when I asked him why he didn’t kill me when he first saw me - he said, ‘Darkness recognises its own’.”

Nathan paused, choosing his words with care, “You know that this is what Palpatine does- that he'll use any means to…”

“No. that’s an excuse; a validation. I can’t afford to be ignorant. When…” Luke glanced down, frowning. “When I was in the cell six days ago Palpatine said that the only thing stopping me from leaving was my own weakness- my own conscience. He said that if I opened the door, the price would be paid in lives. The lives of those around me.”

“That isn’t a weakness Luke- I think you know that.”

Luke lifted his head, stared at Nathan in silence for long seconds. “I nearly did it. I seriously thought about opening the door - just gong ahead and opening it anyway - I can’t tell you how close I came.”

Nathan knew that he had been watching the weight of that knowledge settle on Luke’s shoulders for the past few days as his friend finally voiced his greatest fear;

“What if that’s all I am- all I can be? If Vader was created by Darkness, then how can I be anything more? Palpatine fell by choice, but what about my father? There is still good in him, I can feel that- some part of him that wasn’t consumed. Perhaps he still thinks he’s simply playing the game when he stands beside Palpatine, just as I do. I have to know, Nath- I have to know that when I play Palpatine’s games, I can still step back. I have to know that I won’t get lost in that game.”

“You won’t get lost,” Nathan assured, “You haven’t yet.”

Luke shook his head, “Is that what my father thought? What if he did the wrong thing for the right reasons… because he simply didn’t have that ability within him to recognise the difference- to step back. And if he couldn’t do that because of what he is… how can I?”

Eight days in to its maiden voyage and having left the Peerless and the Dauntless behind in its last brief emergence from hyperspace in dead space at the edge of Sullust, the Patriot was reaching the end of her journey, somewhere in the Moddell or Ablajeck Sectors as far as Luke could calculate based on time and some vague, indistinct sense of direction, though it could just as easily be the Spar or Vivenda Sectors.

The journey had gone surprisingly smoothly this far in terms of undisclosed secrets, almost too much so, given the situation. It wasn’t that Luke was looking for trouble – in fact it seemed that the more secrets he himself held, the less Luke was prepared to rock the boat – but in his experience, life seldom went the way one hoped, and if it did, then it was generally the lull before the storm.

Now, Luke walked beside his Master on the vast bridge, Palpatine yet again discussing the events which had marked the new Destroyer’s launch, Luke lost in his thoughts, remembering how easy it had been to turn on the Rebels; to validate their removal as somehow being in their own greater interests.

“What is relevant is that this signifies a substantial change in tactics for them.” Palpatine turned slightly as they made their slow way from the rear to the front of the bridge along its outer pathway, voice quiet but still quite audible in the hushed bridge, though to all who heard, this was little more than a discussion of tactics between the Emperor and his Heir.

The subtler game which was hidden beneath the words was theirs alone- and Palpatine was pushing for a reaction. “They’re becoming bolder, taking more risks… why do you think that is?”

“Honestly?” Luke said, “I think that without Mothma to hold him in check, Madine is beginning to make his presence felt amongst the leadership there.”

He had expected the name of one of Palpatine’s officers, long since defected to the Rebellion, to have a greater effect but in fact Palpatine remained silent for several seconds as they walked before asking casually, “Is that what your spy thinks?”

Luke didn’t turn round but kept walking as he stated evenly, “Yes. And yours?”

He had no proof that his Master had managed to place another spy among the Rebels, but for the safety of Argot, he needed to find out, so the game played on. Palpatine paused to gaze out of the long, wide viewscreen, clearly not wishing to be drawn. But the lack of answer was an answer in itself, Luke knew.

Still, he was aware of his Master’s subtle curiosity as Palpatine tried a different thread, seeking to clarify his own unspoken suspicions. “Perhaps it is Leia Organa. She is after all the new leader of the Rebellion.”

Luke didn’t hesitate or make any move to defend her. “Perhaps. She has a more military perspective than Mothma ever did, and she’ll doubtless feel the need to establish herself.”

Brief flash-images of Leia’s face seared through his thoughts - of the moment when he’d turned on her group with a vengeance, of the fear in her eyes when the choking smoke had cleared and she had turned to him, horrified.
Where was the line then? Had he crossed it in attacking at all, even when he knew they were already betrayed, or had he simply sought to buy Leia’s life with that of those about her, his eye on the greater picture. Acceptable losses. The wrong thing for the right reasons – or was that the other way around?

His fear was no longer whether he could play the game- it had become far more whether he knew when to stop.

The Emperor spoke on, still pushing to find some perceived weakness, and Luke tried to concentrate, to hide gnawing doubts from his Master’s searching mind as Palpatine sought to lay subtle traps. “In your opinion, is this the kind of action she would instigate?”

He shrugged, aware that Palpatine was seeking to get a reading of his opinion of Leia, given her convenient escape, but unwilling to supply one. “It’s a long time since I last spoke with her. Time changes people.”

“Still, you knew her well.”

Palpatine paused before the forward viewscreen, looking into the maelstrom of lightspeed without truly seeing. Luke kept his expression and his thoughts guarded, aware that his Master’s acute senses were trained on him. Was this an idle discussion; a taunt, no more - a reminder of his former naivety - or was Palpatine aware that something was amiss but unable as yet to chase it down?

Whatever else it was, the conversation certainly wasn’t a genuine request for opinions; Palpatine did as he pleased regardless of those around him.

“Based on past experience I’d say that she wouldn’t shirk from this kind of action if it were suggested.” Luke replied calmly, shaking his head slightly, forcing his mind to focus past the distracting images which burned into his thoughts. “All the beings who advise her at present are military in outlook and experience- I’d say it’s inevitable that she would develop a more militaristic attitude.”

“Do you think I should remove her?”

“I think you should remove the Rebellion entirely, but that seems to be proving difficult.” Luke dodged neatly. Was he failing to see the desert for the dunes? Something bigger was going on here, carefully hidden behind Luke’s own smaller, more routine concerns; he was uneasy about Mara and the Rebels, his thoughts distracted. Was this a diversionary tactic? Carefully played along by his Master, was Luke failing to ask the bigger question, which was…. what?

Luke frowned, mind split between his Master's words and the reason for his speaking them. The big question was... Why was Palpatine here at all?

“Perhaps I should place a bounty on her head?” The Emperor pushed.

“I would be very surprised if you hadn’t already.”

Palpatine let out a small laugh at that before trying another lure. “Heh, perhaps I should send you after her?”

Luke didn’t flinch; “Perhaps you should give me sole responsibility for pursuing the Rebellion in its entirety.”

Again Palpatine laughed, clearly amused at Luke’s single-minded determination. “You’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Luke half-turned, completely drawn in by the conversation now, though he remained silent, knowing when to push and when to allow the Emperor time to feel that a decision had been reached by his own will.

It was, of course true that he wanted responsibility for the insurgents turned over to him. Not for the reasons he allowed his Master to believe, though Luke had to admit that Palpatine’s teachings had probably influenced his view on how to deal with this.

As his Master was so fond of saying, knowledge was power, and if he intended to move forward from the status-quo which had existed between Empire and Rebellion for the last two decades then Luke needed, no matter how covertly, to move information both ways through contacts in the Rebellion. It was the only way to contain them– to direct them. He’d always sought to take command of dealing with the Rebellion from his father, knowing that Vader’s deeply-set opinion of those he pursued would mean that he’d never allow Luke to establish contact, even to his own ends; that, fearing a split in Luke's loyalties, Vader would do everything in his considerable power to stop him.

Whilst responsibility for the Rebellion rested with Vader, Luke knew he would always be reliant on his father’s good will, which was tenuous at best. Notwithstanding their recent cooperation, that facts remained unchanged. Luke still hadn’t revealed his ultimate goals to his father nor did he have any intention to do so, because whilst their relationship had settled, Luke had to admit that he didn’t for one moment actually trust his father. Couldn’t depend on him not to place his own goals before Luke's, as he always had. And whilst that fact remained, Luke still needed to gain control of the anti-insurgency taskforce. It was the only way to guarantee access to the Rebellion.

“I will… consider your request.” Palpatine allowed into the extended silence, his eyes turning again to the radiant, mottled splendour of hyperspace. “You will have new duties soon – new responsibilities – and I would not like to see your attention too divided. But perhaps in the long term, these undertakings could be made to integrate… yes, I will consider.”

“Thank-you Master.” Luke murmured, head down to hide his satisfaction.

Less than a day later, he stood in the same spot beside his Master and the game Palpatine had been playing in coming here had taken on a devastating new twist.

“You disapprove.” Palpatine intoned from his position before the viewport, keeping his eyes on the half-constructed battle station which hung like a silvery pearl in the velvet darkness, but growing larger every second - and more unmistakable.

He remained stock still, his senses trained on Skywalker, searching for any telltale sign as the boy stood close by. But there was nothing; he was too accomplished now to allow any chink in his armour, even at this.

“I see no use for it.” Skywalker said mildly, hands clasped behind his back as he stood to loose, wary attention, his tone casually dismissive though Palpatine knew his thoughts must be reeling.

They had come out of hyperspace after a nine-day jump, still manoeuvring closer to the massive, partially complete battle station over a verdant green planet whose name Palpatine never could be bothered to remember.

He had walked slowly to the front of the bridge to stand beside his Jedi as helm announced their imminent reversion, wishing to be close when the Patriot came out of hyperspace, the other officers present instinctively withdrawing, leaving them alone.

Now Palpatine turned to his Jedi, watching his jaw tighten as their destination became apparent. Skeletal though it still was, he was sure its familiar shape, the massive dish almost complete, must be firing memories of its predecessor, which Skywalker himself had destroyed over Yavin IV - the act which had first brought him to the Emperor’s attention.

“There is always the need to maintain stability.” Palpatine said at last, pressing for a reaction.

“Perhaps,” his feral Jedi allowed, “But I don’t believe it will do that.”

“It is a manifestation of my power. Power is stability; one will above all others.”

“Too much oppression encourages dissent.” The boy was taking care to keep any emotion from his voice or his sense, aware that his Master was looking for a reaction and disinclined to provide one.

“Dissent can be dealt with.”

“If you know it exists.” Luke said, “And where. This is only a deterrent if you know where to point it. You assume you have a single enemy; they scatter themselves widely for that very reason.”

“You will find a target.” Palpatine said confidently.

The boy glanced over, realising, and Palpatine brought sharp, yellow-flecked eyes to his Jedi.

“You are charged with the responsibility of completing this project and bringing it online, my friend- it needs a strong hand now to guide it. Your arrival on Coruscant meant that I became remiss in pushing it forward; I had other, more important concerns. But whilst the Rebellion is gone from the Core Systems, it remains very much a presence in the Rim worlds. In retrospect, I believe that perhaps you were right when you claimed that you could do what your father could not.”

“The Rim is a difficult area to police-” It was almost a defence, and it brought Palpatine’s eyes to the boyimmediately, but he was still staring at the unfinished Death Star, his next words tempering Palpatine’s suspicion, his thoughts clearly on the appointed task. “Even this can only be in one place at once.”

“That is all it need be, if used properly.” Palpatine said. “But any deterrent is only as effective as the hand used to guide it; if I gave this to your father, he would use it without compunction and it would, as you said, only encourage dissent.”

“If one has nothing to lose, then why not gamble- why not fight?” The boy said, aware of the paradox, “This is global, impersonal; it can’t separate between innocents and insurgents. Retribution is indiscriminate, non-selective.”

The boy turned slightly to his Master, knowing that Palpatine wanted to hear that he saw both the disadvantages and the advantages in this. “But you think that’s also its strength, because it will make the Rebels unpopular- unwelcome wherever they try to hide. Reprisals would be absolute; unconditional and global. A whole world could potentially pay for the mistakes of one being. Insurgents taking refuge on the far side of a planet could no longer be ignored when by doing so they placed one’s own family at risk. There can be no degrees of allowance or tacit disregard when the result will be felt so close to home. Every single being on any given world would have a vested interest in removing such dangers from their own planet - reporting them. Its existence is enough.”

Palpatine smiled; the boy had learned his lessons well. He could, he supposed, have invested the same effort in teaching his father – in many ways it would have been far less problematic – but Vader had given up any rights when he had failed to bring down Kenobi. He had lost the power Palpatine had devoted so much to investing in him and in that moment, he had become as every Sith apprentice was in Palpatine’s eyes; a commodity. A tool to be used and discarded. A pity; he would have been easier to control than his son - but therein had laid the pleasure… and the satisfaction of leading the boy to this moment.

“You understand - appreciate the delicate nature of such a weapon.” He turned to his Jedi, indulgent, “You always were my fine blade.”

Luke’s gaze was held completely by the spectre before him, present and past colliding, reducing him to tense, noncommitive silence; he understood- he just didn’t necessarily agree.

Though he wasn’t naïve enough to say such out loud- or allow even a trace of it to slip through ever-present shields.

So Palpatine continued, believing they were of one accord on this, “When it is operational, it will be assigned to your Fleet, together with a charge to turn it against the Rebellion. You have asked me repeatedly for that assignment and I have always refused, believing you not ready. Your actions onboard the Patriot were exemplary. I am confident now that you are equal to the responsibility; that you will fulfil all obligations that the role requires.”

“I don’t need this. Give me access to the Rim Systems and I’ll take them apart anyway. This will take at least a year to complete - give me that one year and control of Vader’s anti-insurgency taskforce...”

Palpatine shook his head as Skywalker spoke, unyielding… and finally he tendered the reward, knowing exactly how to draw his Wolf in with the offer of that which he desired above all else; “No. But when you have completed this weapon… I will give you free run to use it where you see fit, my friend.”

For an instant, Luke only stared, speechless… but already, knowing his Master of old, he was examining the details of the offer, considering the implications…

Palpatine gave him what he wanted- at a price.

Always a price.

Luke glanced back at the half-completed monstrosity which hung before him, an echo of a previous life brushing at his soul and leaving deep misgivings. He’d helped destroy its predecessor- was he really willing to help create the progeny? Was he prepared to relinquish so…

He broke the thought, glancing to the small moon behind the skeletal station then out to the stars beyond, looking for a point of reference-

“Where is this?” Immediately Luke tempered the question behind another meaning, “Can we guarantee that it’s secure?”

“Yes.” Palpatine’s gravely voice was imbued with its typical confidence, “It has remained so for some time; we are far enough from the beaten path that we can ensure privacy.”

“The planet isn’t occupied? It looks habitable.”

The Emperor glanced down, tone dismissive as he struggled to even remember the planet’s name, “Endor is lost in the Outer Rim, close to the edge of the Unknown Regions. It has no technology and no mineral wealth, therefore no connection with the civilised galaxy- but it does have one thing I need; power.”

Luke barely heard, his mind caught up not by Palpatine’s offer of eventual free reign beyond the Core Systems if he finished the Emperor’s new toy… but by the realisation that acceptance of this task may necessitate a far earlier relaxing of restrictions. He glanced to his Master, a cool, curious expression arranged on his face as his thoughts raced; Endor… In the Outer Rim.

The Emperor continued, unaware of Luke’s split attention, “I would not leave myould no leave so vital-a project undefended- there are a series of shields projected from the sanctuary moon…”

Luke nodded distantly, the possibilities sparking; Endor. If he took this task then he would be required to travel to the Outer Rim regularly- under covert means, since its existence was clearly classified. Falling off all official and unofficial radars may well enable him to evade the Emperor’s close scrutiny too. Just as importantly it would guarantee the one thing that Palpatine had always so vigilantly denied Luke; regular personal access to both the Core and the Rim Fleets.

His mind began to race at the opportunities; he could gradually swap out trusted allies from both fleets on the pretext of manning the construction; institute a line of command which would give him absolute control here. The amount of supplies and technology coming in would be vast- it would be easy to appropriate and re-route part of it; expand and reinforce the 701st at a far faster rate than he’d anticipated. Double their size and split them between the Peerless and the Patriot- then again between the Patriot and this station. He’d already left a contingent covertly scattered aboard the Peerless along with a reliable Captain; if and when he chose to move, together they would guarantee the loyalty of the Peerless.

Which gave him the Peerless, the Patriot, the Executor… and now this. Plus reliable Star Destroyer Captains and Command Staff on many others, combined with deep-cover operatives from the 701st who could guarantee that those trusted officers maintained command at the allotted time…

His Master droned on and Luke nodded from time to time, mind still reeling at the potential…

Once – just once more – he saw again the Death Star, remembered his past convictions… but they were gone in an instant, quashed beneath realisation of the opportunity which presented itself here. He was after all not intending to aid Palpatine; this was the opportunity to do all that those distant memories had desired- to bring the Emperor down.

In his bitter, blind desire for ever more power Palpatine had been the architect of all that Luke had lost; it was only fitting that the ultimate statement of that power should be pivotal in his downfall.

He could not turn this down- all he saw now was potential.

His Master was right; Power was stability - one will above all others… just not Palpatine’s.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Corlion, Massa.” Han offered a native Corellian greeting as he came to a stop opposite Tag Massa the Intel Chief, in the crowded Mess onboard Home One.

When he had to ask a favour of someone, he always liked to underline any connection, no matter how vague- and he had to admit that coming from the same planet and therefore sharing the same native language was about as vague-a connection as you could get, but it was all he had. That and Massa’s friendship with Leia, which was why he was here in the first place.

From the look in Tag Massa’s eyes when she glanced warily up to him, she was clearly thinking the same. Mildly embarrassed before that calculating gaze, he switched back to Basic, “Uh… this seat taken?”

“Help yourself,” She turned back to the automemo she was studying.

“Interesting?” Han asked, hoping to prompt a conversation.

Massa didn’t look up. “Everything’s interesting to an Intel officer.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Han said, wondering how soon he could politely come to the point; this was as close to politics as he got - aside from when he got Leia in a clinch - and it was already too close for comfort.

Fortunately Tag made it easy- she had a habit of doing that, for the favoured few. “I’m assuming this is going somewhere, Solo?”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, you’ve just finished a ten-hour Duty Shift and you’re not even out of your flightsuit yet but you want to pass the time with me. Plus you haven’t got anything to eat and yet you’re wandering around the Mess Hall. Plus your friend the Wookiee is sat over there doing a bad job of trying to look casually disinterested. If you’ve hatched some plot up you always involve him, and if you haven’t you always sit with him.”

Han raised his eyebrows; well, ‘make it easy’ may be a bit of an overstatement. “Wow you’re good.”

“Yes I am.” She glanced up for a second, eyebrows lifting expectantly. “And you’re procrastinating.”

“Okay… see… here’s the point.”

“Care to make it a little sharper?”

“I’m getting’ there, don’t rush me.” Han tried his best hurt/offended look, which fazed the Intel Chief not one bit.

“Really, seriously; spit it out ‘cos this is getting painful.”

“I want in on the Patriot thing.” Han blurted out.
Great; he’d had this whole speech worked out - spent the last ten hours cramped up in that A-Wing cockpit staring at the back end of a freighter and cooking up a whole story about being interested in getting into the Intel field, all that stuff about changing career and looking for an opportunity to…

“What Patriot thing?” She held his eye for a few seconds, confused… then sighed ruefully, turning away, “Ah, hell, it’s not worth even trying that one on you, is it?”

Massa’s Intel had been watching the Patriot very closely since its inaugural flight waiting to see where The Heir would point his new super-weapon, and there’d been a lot of nervous faces onboard Home-One when the Destroyer had first disappeared into hyperspace. But so far it had been decidedly quiet for a ground-breaking weapon - which was more worrying than if it had gone hunting in many ways.

So they’d called in a lot of favours and used up a lot of funds and gotten a few sets of fake ID’s, and now they were engineering a little gap in the duty roster before they set it all in motion.

“C’mon Tag, let me in on it- I can do this.”

“Do you know how many experienced undercover ops’ I have just waiting for an opportunity like this?”

“Yeah? How many of them have experience as an Imperial Officer?”

“You were kicked out.”

“Because I didn’t like the routines, not because I didn’t know ‘em.” he defended gamely.

“You were kicked out for insubordination, Solo.” Massa said, pointing to herself, “Intel Officer, remember?”

Han opened his arms, palms up, “Hey, I’m gonna stick with; ‘Cos I didn’t like the routines, not because I didn’t know ‘em.”

She sighed, setting down her automemo, “Why do you want to go, Solo- really?”

He shrugged, “I think I’d be good at…”

“I said really.” Sharp eyes met his own, “Don’t lie to me.”

Han paused for an instant beneath that calculating gaze, “You know why.”

“Yes I do, and that’s why I can’t let you. You’d endanger the mission. Do you know what it took to get those documents?”

“Well then don’t waste them- give ‘em to me. Tag, I can get results.”

“For the Alliance- not for your own little crusade.”

“C’mon Tag- give me this. I’m a good bet and you know it.”

She stared a long time into his face, knowing that he was right; he had the experience, he was cool under pressure and he knew his stuff. If she turned him down out of hand, then she did herself no favours. But she wasn’t so stupid as to miss why exactly he wanted this mission. She leaned back considering, aware of his eyes on her but unfazed; if he thought staring at her was gonna psyche her out, then he was sorely mistaken.

Eventually she sighed though, not particularly wishing to alienate him; he was one of the mandates of her mission here and that alone was pause for consideration. Plus her Chief clearly had some kind of connection to him, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Which was why it wasn’t her call to make; it needed to go to Command. Oh, to be there in person, Massa thought; To see his face when this was passed on- that Solo had found out about the Patriot mission and he actually wanted onboard. What would the Chief think of that- no doubt it would amuse him greatly. Yes- she would need a few days to check what he wanted to do, how he wanted to proceed… but she would bet her last credit he’d say let Solo go. She absently let the edges of her lips curl up, amused at that thought, and Solo raised his brow in question, making Tag sit up straight, firmly wiping the smile from her face.

“I need time to consider - I won’t be rushed into a decision.”

“Absolutely.”

She narrowed her eyes, “That wasn’t an agreement Solo- I’ll think about it. That’s all I can say.”

“Fine- that’s all I ask.” He rose to leave, re-tieing the sleeves of his baggy flight suit around his waist where he’d stripped the top half off to his undershirt below. “Maybe if I get something useful I can finally get Madine off my back.”

Massa smiled dryly, voicing her doubts, “I think you’d need to actually come back with The Heir for that.”

“I’ll bet he’d find some excuse to lambast me even then. Probably bust my ass for being in the company of a known enemy- see that must be proof I’m an Imperial spy.”

Massa shrugged, frowning up at him, unfazed by his sardonic wit. “Trust’s a strange thing, Solo- sometimes even when the facts are right in front of you it’s hard to see them. At the end of the day, either you do or you don’t. And even then if someone keeps on putting ideas in your head, it’s a hard thing to hang on to.”

Han folded his arms, very sure. “No its not. It’s the easiest thing in the world. Either you do or you don’t. Doesn’t matter what anybody says, you go with your gut.”

“That what you do?”

“Every time. And don’t tell me that you don’t.”

“Oh I do.” Massa turned her attention back to her automemo. “More than you know.”

Nathan stepped quickly into Luke’s ready-room aboard the Patriot, aware that he wouldn’t have much time. He made a polite bow from the neck as he entered, the bright, artificial light of the Koornacht Cluster Shipyards casting harsh shadows within.

They were due to get underway to the Rim again in less than a day, their third such trip in the last two months, Luke having already spent long hours poring over documentation relating to the ‘project’ at Endor, which had now been codenamed ‘Redress’- for whom Nathan didn’t know.
But he did know how much time had already been invested in making Project Redress amenable to Luke’s less obvious aims, the ones shared with the trusted few. They all saw the potential of course- now they were looking for the flaws; the traps and the pitfalls, the carefully hidden snares. When they’d cleared them all away, they could begin work.

So this wasn’t exactly the ideal time to be adding to the problems, Hallin knew, and particularly not with one as delicate as this- but he would be remiss in his duties, both as an ally and a friend, if he chose not to report this simply because it was difficult.

He’d sent Luke a short message which was innocent enough at first glance but had one of several pre-arranged phrases within it which signalled him to empty his room. Luke had done so, charging Mara, who was on bodyguard duty this morning, with a task elsewhere.

Now he looked up from his wide desk as Hallin entered, eyes sharp and tense, the question unspoken.

Hallin stepped forward, coming straight to the point, “I overheard a couple of conversations when I was in the medi-centre this morning; ‘techs who were repeating rumours.”

“Go on?” Luke said, wondering why Nath was so tense at telling him this, whatever it was.

“They were talking about Jade- Mara. Rumours are that she keeps a few vials of glitterstim in her quarters… recreational use of course.” Hallin said dryly of the popular drug, shaking his head. “I… put two and two together; she’s not the type to take glitterstim but there is one drug she might still carry, though I’m sure she assures you otherwise.”

Hallin reached into the pocket of his pale gray medical coat fingering the four small vials there, each as about half the size of his little finger, with a narrow neck halfway down their length.

“I took the liberty of going to her quarters this morning, when I knew she was on duty.”

Luke rested his elbows on his desk at that, head in his hands; Hallin would probably have blundered through all kinds of subtle trips - espionage was hardly his forte - and worse, Mara was now who-knew-where onboard the Destroyer. If any of them were connected to her comm, she’d already know she’d been broken into so they couldn’t even try to repair the…
Hallin stepped forward and placed four small, familiar vials onto the desk before Luke, breaking his train of thought completely, eyes following them as they rolled forward and came to a stop, chinking lightly against each other.

For a long time he remained silent, staring at the tiny vials, half-filled with a dirty brown liquid… finally he reached out and took one, lifting it to hold it at eye level.

This was it, Luke knew.

This was the drug that Palpatine used against him so effectively; the tailor-made drug he had no counter to. The drug which, once in his system, could self-replicate at a rate faster than he could remove it with the Force. This debilitating drug enabled Palpatine to return Luke again and again to the cell beneath the Palace when he chose to discipline and chastise, punish or rebuke. The drug that kept him there, in any state Palpatine chose from subdued and listless to paralysing incapacity or unconsciousness every time he overstepped his mark.

The drug he’d tried so hard for so long to get a sample of.

The drug that Mara had said she no longer carried.

She’d looked him in the eye and promised him that she had none. Which meant she’d lied to him… which meant that she could lie to him.

He shouldn’t be surprised, he supposed; he had after all taught her how to do it. He’d always known that in teaching her to be able to lie to Palpatine, he was also teaching her to lie to himself.

Luke glanced up to Hallin, who looked nervously down, then turned his gaze back to the vial, though he was no longer really looking at it.

Hallin watched in tense silence as Luke looked back to the vial, shaking his head infinitesimally just once, jaw tight. He seemed to wander for long seconds in consideration…

Then he was back in the moment, turning a delicate vial over in his fingers, studying it.

“Is there any way to get a sample from this without breaking the cap- any way at all?”

Hallin shook his head, “No, not without destroying the vial. They’re intended to be broken at the neck to release the contents into a pressure dart for delivery. It’s a similar system to a standard hypo. All medical vials are designed to be impervious to any outside agent; completely tamper-proof.”

Luke studied the vial as Nathan spoke, aware of his heart pounding, both at the opportunity and the betrayal.

He’d wanted this chance for so long; this had been the shadow hanging over him since he’d first arrived here- it was the one thing that scared him, because with it, anyone could stop him dead. And its distribution was tightly controlled by the Emperor, every vial always accounted for; Luke had no idea where it came from, how much was out there or who had it. He turned the vial over in his hands again, considering… because much as he wanted this, was the cost of gaining it right now, this way, too high?

It was a vulnerability and he didn’t like having them, but was he blowing this one weakness out of all proportion? Palpatine meticulously controlled its distribution, this attested to by the fact that Luke had spent so long trying to gain a sample.

Was his unease a reasonable response to a genuine weakness or simply his distaste of Palpatine’s use of it?

Had it ever actually stopped him doing anything- or had it simply made the consequences arduous? Which they would have been anyway, one way or another.

He tapped against the delicate vial, turning it over in his fingers and watching the dark liquid coat the inside of the glass… then reached out to press the comlimk set into his desk, looking to Nathan as he did so. “Is Wez up yet?”

Nathan didn’t bother to answer, since Luke was already pressing the comm and Wez’ voice came back seconds later; “Reece.”

“Wez you need to get up here. And find out exactly where Jade is- comm me.”

Luke didn’t elucidate further but knew he didn’t need to; Wez would already be on his way. He glanced back up to Nathan; “This is all the vials you found?”

“Yes. They were in a small metal case. I left the case where it was.”

“Describe the case exactly.”

“It was just… just a small metal case. There was a protective insert in it to hold the vials-”

“There were no empty slots?”

“Yes- two.”

“Is there any way the insert could have been lifted out- that the antidote vials could have been hidden underneath it?”

Hallin’s face lit, realising that Luke was looking for the antidote. “No I don’t think so- the box was too slim.”

“Do you have anything in your medical store which looks exactly like this - anything at all?”

“No- not that colour.” He wants to replace one.

“Do you have facilities to seal a liquid into a vial this way?”

“No- that’s a specialist facility. The contents would have been loaded in a sealed, sterile environment.”

“Doesn’t matter- can you seal a vial so the contents don’t condense?”

Hallin squirmed slightly, “No. No I can’t.”

Luke fell to silence again, considering his options.

“First, we need to get these back into Mara’s room- exactly as you found them.”

“You’re not going to keep one? The antidote…”

“This isn’t the antidote, which means that if we keep one to hand over to Karrde’s chemist to hopefully create an antidote, then Mara will know that she’s lost one and report it to Palpatine. Even if she can’t account for where it’s gone - and I’m pretty damn sure she’ll make it her mission to find out - Palpatine will play this cautiously; it’s been too useful for too long for him to even risk my having a sample. Which will mean that he’ll have the drug changed slightly; just enough that anything we make to counter it, assuming Karrde’s chemist is capable enough to break its chemical code then create an antidote in a reasonable time, will no longer be effective. No matter what we do to hide the fact that we have it, if Mara can’t account for all the vials, Palpatine will have the drug changed. If we can’t get a sample and return the vial intact, she’ll know that someone’s been in her quarters and you’re now on all the ship’s standard security images as entering her apartment. That means I’d need a guarantee that every image was removed before she could take a copy because if she gets just one of them intact, even I can’t protect you from Palpatine if it comes out. Finally, all this aside, she’ll also know that I know that she can lie to me. Presently, she doesn’t and I need to keep it that way. I need to break whatever she’s doing - I need to know when she’s lying - that’s as important as the drug.”

“But the sample…” Hallin argued, knowing how Luke hated the drug.

He shook his head decisively, “We know she has it now. We can always go back and get the drug Nathan - when we’re better prepared; when we can disguise the loss, replace it with a duplicate - replace them all, even. This is bigger than my discomfort at being…”

Luke was interrupted by a knock at the door as Reece entered, eyes flashing around and coming to rest on the vial in Luke’s hand, his recognition immediate. “Jade is in Navigation, checking the logs to be sure the system scrub is in effect, Commander. Apparently you sent her there.”

“Did you speak to her?”

“No Sir; but I know the second array ‘tech there; I contacted him directly and asked him what she was doing.”

Luke handed the vial over to Reece, “Damage control; these need to go back to her room, and I need any trace that Nathan was in there removed. On the security logs too.”

Reece only nodded, knowing better than to ask questions right now, understanding instantly the tight schedule they were on.

Hallin reached out to gather up the other vials - they would have to remove his fingerprints anyway - and glanced to Reece as he turned to the door; "One second- just one second please?”

Glancing back to Luke, who nodded slightly, Wez turned and left.

“Whatever it is it can wait, Nathan.”

“This is important.”

Luke sighed and collapsed back slightly, knowing already what Nath would say.

Hallin stepped forward, keeping his voice quiet. “I wonder whether… in view of the fact that Mara is still carrying these vials and so must be prepared to use them if instructed to do so by the Emperor…”

“Get to the point.” Luke cut in tersely.

“Whether…” Hallin was as dogged and un-derailable as ever, “It’s perhaps time to… re-evaluate you relationship with Commander Jade.”

Luke didn’t speak, didn’t meet Nathan’s eyes, his temper slowly rising as the realization of Mara’s actions hit home. Unknowing, Nathan pushed onward, voice calm but purposeful.

“She told you she no longer carried them and you believed her. Without looking for further proof, you believed her. I wonder if… perhaps this particular game has gone far enough. I think you’ll find…”

Luke rose, hands banging against he desk as he did so. It wasn’t Hallin’s words - they were nothing he hadn’t said before. Still, the warring emotions that snapped at Luke’s heels from Mara’s latest betrayal were surprising in their intensity– and Hallin was pushing too far in the wrong moment.

“Don’t lecture me- don’t stand behind the safe obscurity of your anonymous little life and lecture me on rational decisions Hallin. When you’ve stood here- when you’ve lived this existence, always on the offensive, always under attack, you can…” He broke off in the face of Nathan’s passive acceptance, the explosion over almost a quickly as it had begun, Luke’s face falling to rueful regret.

Nathan sighed without animosity, knowing the knife-edge his friend had walked on for so long.

“Forgive me,” Nathan said with feeling, looking down, “But… you are risking everything for something which at the end of the day, is quite impossible. And every single day that you continue, you place yourself at greater risk. You know that yourself - you’ve told me so. She will never be what you want her to be, she will never be trustworthy. As long as the Emperor is alive, she’ll put her loyalty to him first… and as long as she’s willing to do that, she’s a risk. To your plans, to your allies… and to you.” Hallin opened his hand, the vials chinking apart, “This is the reality- this is the truth; the limits of her fidelity. I’m sorry but…”

Hallin trailed to silence, tone and sense genuinely apologetic, and his words, gently spoken, held the power to cut through all of Luke’s denials, cold reality knocking the air from his lungs in a rush. Abruptly Luke comprehended what he was doing- what he was asking those around him to do. He was gambling everything, not just is own neck, but those who already risked so much to support him- for what?

Because he didn’t know anymore; he didn’t know where the lies stopped. His stormy relationship with Mara had always been little more than a brittle truce, an uneasy compromise whose borders were marked by his knowledge of her loyalties. Now it wasn’t even that- now it was at best a wilful denial; at worst a dangerous lie, manipulation in its coldest form.

If she held these vials… if?.. if!

She had the vials; she had lied- what was there left to trust? The real deception here was the one he had willingly created for himself, and if it had been only him at risk then perhaps he would have still closed his eyes…

“You should end this.” Hallin stated quietly, and Luke knew that unlike his father, Nathan spoke only out of concern, “It’s become too dangerous-a game.”

"I know."

Hallin nodded once in silence, then turned and left.

Alone, Luke stood absolutely still for a long time, trying not to think… knowing the truth;

She would betray him.

The vials were nothing- nothing at all. Whatever she was going to do, it hadn’t happened yet. It hung, hulking, like a dense dark knot, like a black hole in the Force, impenetrable, unstoppable, dragging everything in about it. Nothing escaped its influence; nothing. Not him, not her, no-one. Its consequences radiated outwards changing everything...

How, he didn’t yet know; past that single point, everything was darkness. There was nothing. Oblivion… would that be so bad?

Because he felt helpless to stop himself; despite everything he still wanted to trust her- wanted her close.

Again his father’s words, spoken so long ago, whispered in the face of this one, crushing truth. ‘You cannot be close to another- you cannot allow another to be close to you. Failure is inevitable and the consequences will spiral from your control.’

“I am not you.” Luke whispered, less sure by the day.

When Mara knocked quietly and entered Luke’s quarters onboard the Patriot that night, it was to find him still dressed despite the late hour, sat at the circular table beneath the row of wide viewports, a pack of chipcards in his hand.

“Still up?” she asked, slipping in and closing the door.

“Waiting for you.” he said simply without smiling, tapping the cards restlessly against the table.

Mara glanced at them then back to Luke, curious at his temperament, though it was nothing she could put her finger on. “Well that’s handy, ‘cos here I am.”

She bent over, running her fingers through his long hair to push it back as she leant in to kiss him on the forehead before flopping down on the chair opposite. “So I guess we can go to bed now.”

“I’m not tired yet. Play sabacc with me.”

“I’m way too tired to play sabacc- especially with you.” Mara said easily, “Come to bed. If you’re not tired we’ll think of something.”

Luke glanced up, mismatched eyes momentarily amused… but he didn’t give. “A few games. We never play anymore.”

Mara slouched forward to lean her chin on the table, grinning. “Yes we do- just not sabacc.”

But Luke was already dealing the cards, his manner brittly good-humoured. “What, afraid I’ll beat you? Here- I’ll give you a tell for free; one of my cards is the six of staves. How can I possibly make a winning hand with that?”

Her head still leant against the table, Mara sighed and lifted her cards as Luke reached out and hit the small pulse generator, sliding it out into the middle of the table.

“You’d better not win, Skywalker.” she growled unenthusiastically.

Which he did- ten games straight. But then it was hardly surprising, Luke knew; he was using the Force.

Mara was sat up straight by now, infuriated at his winning streak- and Luke knew it.

By five games in she was shielding her thoughts, but by then she’d already provided the baseline for comparisons within the Force so he just kept on winning, pushing her to ever more suspicion and shields. For ten games straight he either kept bidding until he knew he held the winning hand or bluffed so high as to make her back down the moment he thought she’d lost her hand. Always watching, always reading her.

Every time the field changed the face value of the cards, every time a card was drawn, every bet she made, every fold, every raise. Closely attuned; pinning down thought patterns and hidden intent, slowly sensing faint variations, the slightest disparity. Chasing down increments, cracks in her armour, chinks in her shields. Hundreds of decisions made in quick succession, always hidden but easy to compare, the results borne out when the chipcards were turned.

He’d taught her the system to use against Palpatine; how to use the Force to shield secrets - a way to screen her thoughts then hide the screens - it was his system… and if he created it, he could break it. But subtly; try after try, test after test, setting bars and standards and offsetting each change in the flow against existing knowledge, every discreet flaw noted, every doubt, every bluff, every momentary triumph exploited, modifying his technique, tailoring his reading.

He had her at seven games; after that it was academic.

She scowled at him across the table, green eyes ablaze. “Are you using the Force?”

He sat back slightly in his seat, “I would never lie to you, Red.”

Mara narrowed her eyes at his avoidance. “You lie all the time.”

“I bluff,” Luke corrected, “There’s a difference.”

“I’m not talking about sabacc.”

“Neither am I.” He said coolly, taking the opportunity to draw the conversation where he wished it, a test of new knowledge. “Ask me anything.”

Mara leaned back, still frustrated enough to be drawn in. “Why are we playing sabacc at two in the morning?”

“Because I haven’t played this game in a long time,” he said, “Not with you.”

Before she could speak again he straightened, “My turn- was it you who repositioned the surveillance lenses in the corridor so you could get in and out of here easier?”

Nothing too contentious to begin with; something he already knew, but she didn’t know that.

Now it was Mara’s turn to straighten, freshly wary at this bizarre question-and-answer session. “I didn’t agree this was a two-way offer.”

“Your question next.” Luke said, knowing she wouldn’t be able to refuse the lure.

She hesitated- but only for a second… “Yes I did. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want the truth.”

“That’s not an answer, it’s an avoidance.”

“Because I want the truth- and I think the best way to gain it is to offer it in return.” Again Luke pushed on before she could ask more.“My turn; do you still carry a firearm when you come here at night?”

“I always carry a firearm, you know that.”

“Yes I do- so why do you conceal it? What else do you conceal Mara?”

“That’s two questions.” She said, and Luke shrugged slightly, conceding; it didn’t matter whether she answered out loud- she’d already responded in her thoughts.

Mara considered long seconds, realising now that this conversation was going somewhere specific, noting the abrupt edge in his tone and his stance. “What do you want- with this?”

Those sharp, mismatched eyes hardened just slightly.

“I want to know whether you lie to me.” He paused just long enough to clarify that he was posing his question; “Do you lie to me Mara?”

Mara tensed slightly “Do you lie to me?”

The slightest smile brushed his scarred lips, “You’ve already asked that.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“Why do you lie to me Mara?”

Mara shook her head, straightening, aware that the banter was taking a dangerous turn, “Why do you lie to me?”

He sat back slightly, seeming to consider for a moment. “Because you give me no option. If you could honestly say that you wouldn’t repeat everything I say or do to Palpatine, then I wouldn’t lie. If you would give your word that anything you see or hear in the time we spend together exists outside of your mandate then I wouldn’t need to second-guess every moment with you. But you won’t do that. So I lie to protect myself in the one situation that I really shouldn’t have to, with the one person I really don’t want to.”

He paused, then repeated his question, “Why do you lie to me?”

Mara held to stunned silence for long seconds, taken aback by that burst of cutting truth, a whole minefield they had very pointedly never even tried to address before.

Luke’s voice was sharper this time, the demand unmistakable; “Why do you lie to me Mara?”

“Sometimes… I have to.”

He watched her struggle for long seconds before she said that, watched her realisation dawn as to where this was going.

And much as Luke wanted to stay angry, he couldn’t; not before that, not with all the history that lay behind them. He had what he needed from this- he knew how to break her shields. Everything else was just to satiate his own frustrations and disappointment; he could probably validate it to himself as maintaining the conversation to hide his intent, or justifying to himself that what he was about to do was the right choice- but in truth it was procrastination, to make this easier. For him if not for her.

He sighed, glancing away, leaning back into the chair. There was, he knew, just one more thing he needed to lay to rest - and he should do it now, quickly, whilst he still had the anger to push it through.

“This is… this will never work, Mara. We were stupid to think it would. We should back out gracefully whilst it’s still… at least reasonably straightforward.” Mara shook her head but he continued, holding his nerve. “It will get too complicated, Mara. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.”

“Why? What would change?”

“What are you gonna do the next time Palpatine orders you to move against me- to make it possible to get me down to the detention centre again? Because he will, eventually.”

“Only if you make him.”

“He will do it Mara. He’ll give that order eventually- and I think you’ll carry it out.” Luke was silent for a while, giving her time to consider that – to deny it. But she remained silent and he let out a resigned sigh, “… And where does that leave us right now- where does it leave me?”

“It leaves us where we are- nothing has changed.”

“You want to know where we are? I don’t trust you Mara- I can’t trust you. What am I supposed to do?”

“What… what is… what’s brought this on?”

Luke raised his eyebrows, incredulous. “It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t make any of it untrue.”

Luke stood and backed up step, putting some distance between them, “Why you, Mara. Did you ever wonder… why you to be here every day, always near? Why you at the beginning, when I was completely alone? You’re an assassin- a deep-cover operative, not a bodyguard.”

“Because I know how to deal with a Jedi.” she said, as if it were obvious.

Luke shook his head, refusing the validation. “What about Vader?”

“Palpatine didn’t trust Vader, you know that.”

“He doesn’t trust you.”

“Of course he trusts me- he always has.”

“Then why do you have a watcher, Mara?”

She only skipped by the question, shaking her head. “Vader would have worked to his own ends if he’d been there- Palpatine knew that.”

“And what are you doing, in being here- like this?”

“He doesn’t know that. You said he didn’t know we were together- in the Palace, you said he didn’t know.”

“I was wrong. He knew- I think he’s always known. He engineered this, Mara.”

She stood, taking a step forward but halting as he backed up, “Luke, he doesn’t know.”

“He knows. Maybe, just maybe we could have gotten away with it when we were well away from Coruscant – maybe even for one night in the Palace – but when he was on the Patriot?! When Nath was there, panicking and fretting?”

Mara was already shaking her head, a hundred carefully-created excuses lined up. Luke lifted on hand, chopping her words off with a gesture. “He turns a blind eye because it gains him so much.”

“What would he possibly have to gain from you and I being together?”

“Everything. Everything he wants… needs.”

Mara shook her head, unconvinced, unwilling to let the avoidance pass now that so much was at stake. “ ‘Everything’ isn’t an answer, Skywalker- it’s an evasion.”

“You want specifics? Fine. He needs a way to control me and he knows he can do that through you because you’ll always remain loyal to him at the end of the day, Mara. You’ll never disobey a direct order, not from him- so he always has someone close who he can turn on me. Because no matter how much anyone tries to remain vigilant, familiarity lowers defences.”

He didn’t stoop so low as to mention the other reason in his mind; that her closeness bought her information which she’d never otherwise have had access to, but they both knew he was thinking it, not least because it was true, much as he tried to maintain those defences.

Still, Luke skipped past it, citing other reasons. “He uses you as a direct method of control, Mara- he’s used you against me already.”

“What does that even mean- used me against you how?”

“As a threat, Mara.” Luke said quietly, “ ‘Do this… or they will pay the consequences’.”

Mara shook her head, unwilling to believe Palpatine would use her in that way. “Did he say my name?”

“He didn’t need to.”

Mara shook her head again. “He doesn’t know.”

Luke held his ground, unyielding. “He allows this- he turns a blind eye because he knows he has everything to win and nothing to lose.”

“What? Like what?”

Luke sighed, reluctant to hurt her but knowing this needed to be spoken out loud. “A child, Mara. A force-sensitive child, to continue his precious dynasty.”

Mara felt her jaw drop, realisation striking with an almost physical blow, making her feel sick. For a long time she remained silent, the implications of this slowly sinking in. A child- he would take it from them- from her. Hide it away and keep it; twist its mind and…

She shook her head, stepping back, needing space. Skywalker waited as she paced the room, dragging her fingers through her hair.

Would he do this? Was all of this planned? She knew her master wanted to instigate a Sith dynasty; he didn’t need two Force-sensitives to do that, but she knew him well, knew how his mind worked; that he would want the extraordinary, the unique… wouldn’t it be just like him to…

“It wouldn’t be his dynasty.” She said aloud, turning to Luke. “It would be Vader’s.”

Luke looked away at that, some uneasy disquiet shading his face. “He wants a Sith Dynasty, Mara- he wants his precious Sith Dynasty and this is how he’d gain what he wants. That’s all that matters to him; it’s what this is all about- you know that. This is what he does- games within games, everything twisted to what he wants. There are no coincidences- not here; you know that. Everything is to his design. And when he realises you’re not gonna gain him what he wants, he’ll wait for the very next time I push a little too far so he can blame it on me- then you’ll be gone. You’ll be gone because he knows that can hurt me.” Luke shook his head, “I’m not doing this- I can’t. I can’t give him that kind of control- you know that.”

“He only has control if you let him.” Mara said, “Nothing’s changed since the first night we were together- not really.”

“No it hasn’t.” Luke said without flinching, “I don’t trust you Mara. You’re lying to me, about more than one thing.”

Mara raised her chin momentarily but the anger didn’t come; it was pointless and they both knew it. “I’m not lying to you about anything that matters.”

“It matters to me.”

“It’s just Palpa…”

“I know exactly what it is Mara. What I don’t understand is why you think that’s okay. How you would think I would find the fact that you work for my enemy acceptable- how the hell you think this is a tolerable situation.”

“He’s not your enemy Luke.”

“No? The man who maintains a detention cell specifically to hold me isn’t my enemy? The man who equips those around me with a drug designed specifically to control me? He takes me to pieces down there, Mara, in case you hadn’t noticed. In all the times I’ve been down there, I’ve never once walked out of that cell- because I’ve never once been capable. How can I think of the man who does that as anything but my enemy?”
He bit back on what he so wanted to say; and you’re still carrying the drug that would get me back down into that cell… you!

Mara held her ground, “Those days are over now and you know it.”

“How!? How do I know it?”

“He told me.”

Luke almost laughed out loud.

“You can’t trust him Mara! You can’t trust anything he says.” His voice was raising now, laced with frustrated disbelief.

“I can trust him.” she maintained firmly, “He doesn’t lie to me.”

“Then why…” Luke broke off, dragging his hands through his hair. He was silent for a long time, looking down as he shook his head, and when he spoke again his voice had a forced calm; “Why do you call him master?”

“What?” She backstepped, avoiding the answer, playing for time. But he wouldn’t let her, that calm expression overlaying whatever he was truly thinking.

“He has you call him master but he won’t teach you- except what benefits him.”

Mara glanced away, unwilling to answer, but he remained silent so finally she spoke. “He’s taught me all he can.” She insisted, very sure. “He can’t teach me what I don’t have the ability to learn.” He’d told her many times; she had some connection with the Force, some affinity which made her able to hear his voice and respond in kind, but that was the limit of her sensitivity. She simply didn’t have the connection to be capable of more. He’d told her that.

“I taught you more- was that so difficult to learn? He’s not teaching you- he’s holding you back… and deep down I think you know it.” He stepped forward. “Mara, it’s not that he can’t teach you more... it’s that he won’t. Right now you’re easy to control and you’ll never become a threat- why should he risk that by continuing to teach you?”

“Well then why has he taught you?”

“Because I…” Luke broke off, clearly almost slipping in the heat of the moment.

“You what?”

“Because I already knew too much. Because he sees power and he wants to control it. Because he believes... claims he has a vested interest.”

Mara shook her head in confusion, knowing that he was holding out on her; that he had deeper reasons that he seemed unwilling to share.

Luke sighed, uneasy. “Because he’s convinced I’m different… my father’s different. This line is different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

She studied him, trying to pull answers from the facts and he looked away, shaking his head, clamping his jaw.

“At least give me that.” she pushed, “You want me to walk away… well then I think I deserve that.”

Luke held silent for long moments, reluctant, but she remained still, waiting…

“I only know fragments,” he said at last without alluding as to where from or how, “That there was a… prophesy. Made a long time ago by the Jedi…” He shook his head, seeming embarrassed now, “Something… I don’t know. This line is mixed up in it; twisted through with it- that’s what he claims.”

“What’s the prophesy?”

Luke shook his head again, unwilling to be pulled in any further. “Look at us; this line… we’re bad blood, Mara. Bad blood.”

There was something in his tone, angry and bewildered and desperate and completely convinced, and she knew he was trying to push her away but it only drew her in further. She moved forward, reached out to brush his hair from his eyes, but he stepped back, lifting his hand against her, refusing the intimacy.

“Don’t.” he shook his head. “We can’t be together Mara. I can’t trust you and you absolutely cannot trust me. We were playing a game, that’s all. It was just a game that got out of hand…”

She reached forward and took hold of him, though he tensed against the embrace, hands to her shoulders to push her away.

“It doesn’t matter Luke. None of that matters, don’t you see? I don’t care. I don’t care about prophesies and Sith and Emperors and Heirs- I don’t care. I care about you. I want to be with you… and I’m pretty damn sure that you want to be with me. So nothing else matters- does it?”

He remained silent, hands still to her shoulders, though he’d stopped trying to push her away. She held still against him, arms wrapped tight, feeling the beat of his heart, the rise of his chest- and nothing else mattered.

“Say no and kiss me.” she whispered, stretching up to him…

And he leaned in to her, fingers trailing across her outstretched neck- and kissed her.

But he didn’t say ‘no’…

Mara glanced up at the light knock on the door to her room, eyes narrowing with suspicion. She’d returned only a short while ago, having stayed overnight with Luke, and had come back only to change before she’d make her public return to Luke’s quarters to begin her formal day’s work as his bodyguard.

She walked slowly to the door and pressed the release. Nathan Hallin stood quietly in the corridor, glancing up as the door slid aside.

“Commander Jade.”

The fact that he was here at all was suspicious enough; the fact that he’d arrived here just minutes after she had was an obvious statement. He’d come with something to say Mara knew, so it seemed petty to make him say it here in the hallway.

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, gathering her thoughts and forcing herself to concentrate on the situation at hand. Despite his apparently easygoing manner, she’d come to know that Hallin was astute and perceptive- a handful at the best of times.

He walked into her quarters but went no further, politely waiting. Mara palmed the door closed then walked past him into the room and he followed in silence, in no hurry to speak.

“If you have something to say then say it, Hallin.”

He studied her for a long time in silence before finally offering in a casual, clipped voice, “The Heir is unaware that I‘m here.”

“Are you asking me not to tell him you came?”

“I’m making you aware of the facts Commander; what you do with them is your choice.” He looked her up and down quickly, “And choices are such… interesting things. Revealing.”

Mara narrowed her eyes, wary. Hallin always spoke his mind and had never disguised his mistrust of Mara, but this was something new. This wasn’t a casual snipe in an empty corridor- he’d actually sought her out to say his piece. Of course, she should have realised; Luke’s doubts yesterday had to have come from somewhere, and Hallin was the obvious choice, but this- to come to her quarters, to speak as he had done, the lines drawn already- this was unexpectedly direct, even for Hallin.

But if there was one thing Mara could do, it was direct; “I find if I’m curious about something, the best approach is to simply ask.”

Hallin only nodded slowly. “An interesting approach for someone who tells lies for a living.”

Mara arched her eyebrows at that, stepping subtly closer, wondering if the slight medic realised she could break his neck long before he’d even begun to react to the move. Whether he knew that the only thing which stopped her was Luke.

“If all you’re here to do is speak in riddles Hallin, then you should go, because you’re wasting both our times.”

“Go? Where would I go?” Hallin purposely misunderstood her words, “This is my home Commander. My obligations and loyalties lie here.”

“And you’re saying mine don’t?”

“Do they?”

It was a surprising question in that it was just that- a question.

“My interests lie here, Hallin.” Mara assured acerbically.

“Interests are such momentary things- they wane. And when they do, someone must pick up the pieces.”

Mara sighed, frustrated all over again at this ongoing grudge-match. “You know him so well, Hallin- I can’t believe you think him so blind.”

“In some things we are all blind, Commander. Then we must rely on those around us to protect us.”

“I would never hurt him.”

“As you said before. Yet you’re still here… and we both know why.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“You don’t need me to tell you where your loyalties lie, I’m sure.”

“I’ve never made any secret of my loyalties.” Mara said, Luke’s argument the previous night ringing in her ears.

“Nor I, Commander.” Hallin replied, “And they are, I assure you, easily as passionate as your own.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Hallin shook his head, studying her, tone polite and genuinely curious. “I cannot understand how you have been so close to him for so long, yet you seem to have no concept- none at all- of who he really is. You cannot understand how close to the edge he operates every single day. How much pressure he exists under-”

“You think I don’t see the cracks Hallin, but I do.”

“Then I can only assume that you test them on purpose- or ignore them for your own self-serving indulgence.”

Mara’s chin rose, “You have no idea how close to the line you are right now.”

“And you have no idea of how much it’s costing Luke to survive here, I think. No idea of how much it takes to rise above Palpatine’s grasping control, his constant manipulations. Luke would do anything- anything to be free of him.” Hallin’s soft, serious brown eyes came to Mara, expression grave, “So much so that if he tears himself apart in the process, then that is the price he will pay.”

“He won’t do that.” Mara said, unnerved by Hallin’s sinister prediction.

“He doesn’t need to.” Hallin said without animosity, “You’re doing it for him.”

She shook her head in denial but the medic pushed on. “You do so every day, Commander, simply by remaining close to him- and you know it.”

“I think he can take care of himself, Hallin.”

“I’m sure he can. But that does not lessen the dedication of those around him- and I am, I assure you, not alone in my commitment to protect The Heir.”

“What does that mean?”

He was very calm now, coolly assertive and self-possessed, “Do you think we don’t watch you- do you think you operate with impunity?”

The first inkling of nerves rose in Mara at the declaration within those words. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“We will not allow you to harm him.” Hallin said quietly, but with absolute commitment. “You think you’re here by the Emperor’s sanction and that’s true. But whether you choose to believe it or not, you are also here by ours. And the first time you cross the line - the moment we see him falter because of your actions…”

He met her eyes and his tone was absolute, “We will remove you. Permanently. I will inform Luke myself… and I will deal with and answer for the consequences of my actions, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, I have done the right thing.”

Mara was both fascinated and moved by this unconditional commitment, this protective loyalty. The fact that it was being used to threaten her was in this moment unimportant. What mattered was that it was there- that Luke was safeguarded by this intense allegiance. That he inspired it.

Still, the confidence in Hallin’s words spoke volumes, as did the fact that he would stand before her and admit this. His veiled declaration that there were others loyal to Luke, his assertion that they could now deal with any threat, secure in the knowledge that he remained untouchable, his position as Luke’s close ally giving Hallin equal standing to Mara’s as the Emperor’s Hand.

Again Luke’s words of the previous night came to mind; “It will get very complicated, Mara...”

At the time they’d seemed nothing; a passing comment - now, in light of Hallin’s attitude…

Everything was changing as Luke gained ground and stature, Mara knew. Right now his support was still subtle and secretive, but it was clearly gaining confidence every day- and it wouldn’t do that without reason.
For the first time it occurred to her to wonder what would happen when Luke eventually took power- whether those whom Hallin claimed believed as he did would be able to subtly exclude and undermine her.

“I won’t hurt him, Hallin- that isn’t my intent.”

Hallin remained silent, expression set in stone. Did she care for him? Was she struggling between split loyalties or playing a role for Hallin’s benefit? If she truly wanted to play that role, then surely she would have declared total loyalty to Luke and disavowed the Emperor… yet she remained caught between the two.

Could she be trusted?

“You’re asking too much of him.” Hallin said at last, searching her eyes.

“I ask nothing of him.”

Didn’t she understand - couldn’t she see why the fact that her loyalties were not Luke’s was so significant? That trying to find a path between her companionship and his own intentions was tearing Luke apart. He had few vulnerabilities before Palpatine- his greatest the Emperor didn’t know- but he didn’t need it; Mara was enough.

“What you ask of him- it destroyed his father, and he knows it. I won’t let it destroy him.”

“Neither will I.” Mara realised in that moment just how much she meant it. How little everything else mattered by comparison.

Hallin nodded slowly. The warning was still in his eyes, though it hid something else, for Luke’s sake; a willingness to withhold judgement… for now.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Mara set her head to one side, throwing the words Hallin had murmured to her in the medi-center so long ago back in his face, “I’m not doing it for you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Patriot was stocking up for its fifth trip to who-knew-where by the time Han finally made it onboard. He had a sneaky suspicion that there were three of them altogether who’d been given fake ID’s and buried in the Duty Roster, but he wasn’t sure- for obvious reasons, none of those sent knew about anyone else.

The fates had been with them though; there was a rash of inter-fleet personnel transfers every time the Patriot reappeared in the Core Systems, which had made it that much easier to get onboard with the crew rotations- and that much more worrying as to what was going on to cause them.

That was the great thing about Super Star Destroyers though, Han reflected as the crew shuttle set down in the Patriot’s sprawling main hold; they were massive ships, extensively manned, and if you were going to smuggle a few short-term spies into the Fleet then this was where you did it. Which was just as well, because no-one seemed to have a clue as to where the Patriot disappeared to for three weeks in every four as she had done since her launch, and everyone was getting real jittery.

It had taken the best part of a week to persuade Massa to let him use one of the fake ID’s, then almost the same to get Leia to okay it- sometimes having your other half be the leader of the Rebellion could seriously cramp your operating style. In the end, his questionable credentials as an ex-Imperial Officer - all be it dishonourably discharged - had given him the edge in that he knew operating procedures onboard a Destroyer.

That was what he’d claimed anyway- it was a long time ago and he’d not really paid much attention at the time.

But surprisingly it was all coming back to him with unnerving clarity now he was here, making the nine-day wait at the Shipyards in the Farlax Sector and the trip up to the Patriot a breeze. Now all he had to do was stay undercover long enough to see Luke; watch him operate here, watch him interact. That wasn’t his mission of course - his remit was to lay a series of in-system bugs for information-gathering, but he figured anyone could do that. Han was the only one who could read the kid with any real sense of familiarity and prior knowledge to base his judgement on - and any genuinely impartial bias, as far as he was concerned.

And since the launch of the Patriot - hell, since the kid had let him go with the Falcon - he’d been desperate to know just what was going on in Luke’s head. What was in his mind when he’d foiled an attempt on Palpatine’s life then just turned straight around and saved Leia’s?

He told himself that this was for the Alliance - that it was vital information, whether they knew it or not - but some niggling little voice kept on asking if the truth was that he just wanted to see Luke; wanted to look him in the eye and… what?

He had no idea. Maybe he just wanted to look the kid in the eye - maybe that was all he needed.

Or maybe that was the last thing he needed; admittedly their last meeting hadn’t exactly been genial. It had raised more questions than it answered, none of them good, but Han was more optimistic this time. Clearly the trick was not to get caught on the back foot with Luke; make sure you’re the one in control. To do that it would be smart to keep out of his way, keep your distance, keep hidden- just watch and learn, wait as long as it takes for the right chance to come along.

Yeah, that made sense.

Nodding to himself as he stepped off the ramp of the crew shuttle into the cavernous, echoing bluster of the Patriot's busy main hangar, troops and supplies being delivered and stored in equally impressive measure, Han glanced about, feeling stiff and starched in his fitted Petty Officer’s uniform.

Stretching his neck as he ran his finger under the edge of his high collar, he nodded reassuringly to himself; this was easy. All he had to do now was get through inauguration and he was laughing…

They all stood in a straight line in the crew hangar close to the Officer’s quarters. Han had been assigned a room - even had a window - given his clearance codes without problems and was now listening- kinda- to a Personnel Officer drone on about protocols and mealtimes and shift hours. Basically all the things that Han had been drummed out of the Fleet for ignoring first time around. That and the whole Chewie thing…

Han raised his eyebrows and effected a slight shrug; oh well- their loss, not his. He glanced back to the Officer, realising that he hadn’t listened to a word so far-

“…several rules above and beyond the norm, associated with the fact that The Heir is generally onboard.”

Han pricked his ears up at this, finally interested, as the Officer droned on.

“Although it’s unlikely that any of you will meet him in your day to day duties, there are certain protocols established in case you do. You will stick to them as if your life depends on it, because if I find out that an officer under my command had breached them, then I will personally strip his ass back down to Private- are we all clear?”

Nice man- good social skills. Han reflected dryly, remembering afresh why he hated the military.

“These are the rules; take notes.” The burly man walked slowly down the length of the line, “Firstly, you will refer to him when speaking to others in the third party. The Commander’s own non-military Aides who are on-board will refer to him by his civilian title, which is ‘The Heir’. You will not. Onboard ship, or whenever you are wearing a Fleet uniform, you will refer to him by his military title, which is Commander-in Chief; in the unlikely event that you find yourself in his presence, you will remember that he prefers simply ‘Commander’. When you have referred to him once as such, you will then subsequently acknowledge him as Sir. You will do this every time you meet him; Commander then Sir. You will not try to engage him in smalltalk; he does not appreciate it. You will not go closer than four paces unless he looks to you and nods his head in permission. Even if you have to give him something you will stand and wait until he nods his head to allow you closer. If he enters a room in which you are present, you will bow smartly from the neck and bring your heels together military-style. You will practice this so that it is not sloppy when you finally have to do it. If you are in a room and the Commander is there, you may not leave without his order or his dismissal. If you need to walk away from him, you will bow and back up four paces, then and bring your heels together before you turn away. If I see anyone turn their back on him within four paces I will have you doing nightshifts on a garbage hauler for the rest of your career. You will not stand behind him closer that those magic four paces- if he turns his back on you, you will back up, as before. You will not sit in his presence unless explicitly invited to do so, which I very much doubt. You will not eat in his presence unless invited. You will not stare. You will not make conversation with civilian members of his entourage; you will remember that aside from Fleet issues, they outrank you and you will refer to them by their rank or title. You will learn their ranks and titles. You will not ask for an introduction to the Commander- it will not further you career; they have invested many years in getting to where they are now and believe me, they’ll be damned if they’ll help any of you replace them.”

Han was starting to tune out at this point, partly as a reflex action, but partly because it was beginning to occur to him for the first time just who he was trying to get close to. Up until now, he’d just been trying to get to Luke; suddenly, in his world for the very first time, he was realising just how much had changed; he was no longer trying to steal a few minutes with that hyper kid from Tatooine, who happened to be onboard a Star Destroyer- he was trying to get to the Heir to the Imperial Throne. Someone who lived that life- this life- all bows and Sir’s and entourages. Nobody stare, don’t get too close; don’t even think about trying to start a conversation…

It finally hit him that Luke Skywalker might not even exist anymore- not the Luke Skywalker Han knew. Five years… that was a hell of a long time to live this life, surrounded by people like this, who just kept on shoehorning you into it ‘cos it was protocol, completely removed from everything normal and conventional.

It was also beginning to dawn that the kid wasn’t a kid anymore; he was the Commander in Chief of the Core Fleet and next in line to rule an Empire, inaccessible and isolated.

Was it by choice or by influence?

The Personnel Officer paused to answer his comm and Han realised that once again he hadn’t heard a word he’d been saying; probably wasn’t important…

Signing off, the man glanced up again, glowering at the row of new Officers, “... so look upon this as your one opportunity to shine - in front of me, not the Commander. I guarantee you that he doesn't even know you exist. As far as I'm concerned, what you do from now on reflects on me, and so decides what you do here for the next twelve months, which decides the rest of your career. Don’t screw up.”

Han raised his eyebrows without speaking; maybe it had been important…

Seconds later, the bay’s pressure door slid open and a Petty Officer sounded a triple-tone on his whistle.

“Commander on deck!” The mouthy Officer shouted with military precision as he came to smart attention, everyone straightening, heels clicking in unison-

And Luke walked in, hands behind his back, a neutral, unreadable expression on his scarred face.

He was impeccably dressed in a smart, almost military uniform in dark blue-gray, a small group of senior Officers and Aides trailing behind him- none any closer than the regulation four paces, Han noticed wryly.

He looked… different to Han- older. Which was stupid ‘cos he was older, but… somehow Han had never quite reconciled the shadow-shrouded man in the Fury’s detention level with - well, with Luke; with the kid. He’d just, over time, mentally replaced that image from the Fury with the one of Luke that he already knew; the real Luke. And the holo’s which came in all the time from Intel well, they weren’t really Luke either- not really. They were some other guy; The Heir, the enemy; whatever. Not Luke.

And now here he was again, that strange shadow-Luke. But in the plain light of day.

He seemed taller, broader; all grown up. His hair was long and unruly though, falling to loose twists almost on his shoulders- and dark, making his skin seem paler… making that scar seem deeper.

From well above his eye it sliced down his cheek, through both lips and onto his chin- that was one hell of a scar. Why did he still have it?

But then, who was Han to talk- he still had a scar on his chin from long ago. Had purposely kept it as a memory; a reminder of a lesson hard learned. Han looked afresh at the heavy scar… wondered what other scars the kid held.

Luke motioned with gloved hand for the group around him to stop and wandered slowly along the line, indifferently inspecting the new drafts…

Han’s mind was racing as Luke drew ever closer; well this was a bolt from the blue- who’d have thought The Heir to the Empire routinely wandered below decks to check the new Petty Officers? He vaguely remembered confidently figuring that all he had to do was make sure he didn’t get caught on the back foot again by Luke and everything would be fine - apparently that plan was already out the airlock.

If he was a smarter man, he’d probably be sweating by now.

Luke walked at a leisurely pace down the row of newcomers, already aware that Han was at the far end of the line-up but taking his time. He’d developed a habit of coming down here each time a new batch were brought onboard, knowing that eventually Han would be among them. Argot had warned weeks ago him that Solo may soon be onboard, one of five spies, four of which were already tagged. This fifth Luke would look out for himself; private business.
So he’d taken to the habit of coming down here on the pretext of a personal inspection every now and again so that when he finally needed to, it wouldn’t seem out of place.

He slowed to a stop before Han, who looked slightly green, Luke eyeing him up and down in silence, though Han kept his eyes dead ahead.

“And you are?” Luke prompted finally.

“Lieutenant Solin, Sir.” Han saluted smartly then hesitated; was he supposed to bow? Was that supposed to come before the salute? The Officer coughed sharply and Han belatedly realised he’d also used the wrong title, “Commander!” he corrected quickly.

Luke continued to stare as if he hadn’t noticed, narrowing his eyes in contemplation, hesitating for an uncomfortably long time before finally speaking. “Don’t I know you?”

“No, Sir, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Oh, I’m sure we have.” Luke corrected quickly, “Very sure.”

Again Luke left a long silence as he stared at Han, who shifted uncomfortably, partly at the rocky situation and partly in trepidation, which wasn't Solo's style, Luke reflected. Maybe he was realising that the changes in his old friend were something more than skin deep. Luke narrowed his eyes, letting the moment hang…letting Solo sweat a little for being as reckless and as rash as to think he could get away with this…

Then he cut him a break. “It was… at the opening of a gallery on Coruscant. We spoke about a piece of art… ‘Night Battle’ by Inego, I think it was.”

Han let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Yes Sir, I think you’re right. I still have… a copy.”

“Really? I thought you’d have sold it by now.”

“No, Sir. It has sentimental value.”

“I think you overestimate it.” Luke said with dismissive finality. “I find I’ve lost my taste for Inego's work as time has passed. He was always so naïve- trying to paint pictures which didn’t exist in reality anymore.”

“See, that’s what I like about the picture- every time I see it, it’s like visiting an old friend.”

Luke smiled at that; Solo hadn’t lost his sharp mind- though it was wasted if he thought he could change anything here… or return to the past. “Perhaps it’s time to move on. I have.”

“Thank you Sir but I think I‘ll keep it... the uh, the artist may not be in favour where I come from, but that doesn’t change my own view of him.”

“Perhaps popular opinion is right.”

“They don’t know him like I do.” Han said firmly. “Everybody’s passing judgement on someone they never met.”

“Did. Inego is dead, Petty Officer Solin.”

“Maybe…” Han began- But Luke cut him off, voice decisive.

“Oh trust me; he’s gone. One cannot come back from the dead.”

Han paused for a long time before making one last effort. “That’s a pity, Sir. I always thought we had a lot in common.”

Luke stepped back, purposely dismissive, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end as he turned about. “You should take care it’s not your demise, Petty Officer Solin.”

He walked coolly away before Han could speak further, leaving him to lean out slightly to gaze down the row of Officers at Luke's receding back as he left the bay, every Petty Officer in the line-up staring first at The Heir then, when the bay doors finally closed, turning about in unison to look at Han.

Han straightened up again, letting out a slow breath; Now he was sweating.

Han was wandering nonchalantly down the main corridor on the Navigation Level, trying to look like he was sufficiently bored to be on official business, a borrowed automemo tucked under one arm- always handy to pull out and pretend to read when travelling in turbolifts and someone looked like they might try to engage him in conversation.

No more had been mentioned about the uneasy meeting, aside from the Personnel Officer, who’d given Han ten minutes of grief then suddenly changed his mind and decided that it might just be in his interest to suck up to the new Petty Officer who apparently went to the same art galleries as The Heir, and had consequently given Han an easy ride for the next few days. Which never hurt.

They’d gone into hyperspace the first night and no-one in the assorted messes and common rooms seemed to know where, so when the Patriot made a short drop into realspace, offering a chance to gain co-ordinates, Han had decided to go straight to the source and try a little trip to Navigation.

Now he just had to pick a room- there were about thirty so far in the Navigation section; way more than the last time he remembered being on a Star Destroyer, but then he’d never actually been on a Super Star Destroyer- He smiled a lopsided smirk at that; actually it wasn’t true; he’d been taken to Coruscant onboard the SSD Executor with Luke… they just hadn’t seen much of it.

And now the kid from Tatooine owned one of them… had been given it by Palpatine himself. Funny how the galaxy turned…

Han finally chose a room at random and wandered in, looking busily down at his automemo screen as the door slid shut behind him. He risked a quick glance up, but there were only four men in the long, deep room, none of whom were looking. The nearest was stood before a screen of what looked like it might be useful info, so Han walked up casually, glancing back to the automemo as if reading it.

“Hey, I’m looking for Lieutenant Antilles?” Han picked the name of Rogue Group’s Flight Commander at random.

“Antilles?” The non-com shook his head, “No- not here.”

Han raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Doesn’t work this shift?”

“Doesn’t work any shift, Sir- not in here.”

“Great.” Han feigned frustration, glancing about, “Does anyone know him?”

The man finally turned away to the others, giving Han an unguarded look at that screen. “Anyone know a Lieutenant Antilles?”

As the non-com’s spoke, the door behind Han whispered open and he heard light footsteps. Turning casually, he recognised the man immediately; he’d taken the time to shoehorn all the leading players in the Patriot into his head before he’d set off but even without that, Commander Wez Reece was a well known figure around Skywalker these days, having risen from something between a bodyguard and an Aide to Adjutant-General of The Heir’s household.

Han glanced away immediately, looking back to his automemo, and the man walked by without a second glance, heading to the input console at the far side of the room, all the non-com’s immediately trying to look busy.

Han stared at the automemo in his hand until the backlit screen burned into his vision, wondering how soon he could retreat without drawing attention to himself…

Finally he looked up to the man beside him, “Ya know what, I think I need to check that name. Don’t worry about…”

Wez Reece glanced back then away… then, as if changing his mind, he looked up again; “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Uh-oh. “No thank-you sir. I’m just trying to track someone down- it’s not a…”

“Who?”

“Oh…” Han stared again at his automemo; well this wasn’t going well… “Lieutenant Antilles. It’s not a problem; I’ll just…”

Reece stepped around the console, heading toward Han.

“Lieutenant Antilles is in System Analysis.” He drew level, head set slightly to one side, “Let me take you- I’m passing right by it.”

Han stared for long seconds at the big, bulky man…

“Thanks.” He said at last, and fell into step behind him as he headed for the door - what else could he do?

They walked in silence down the long, gray corridor, Han wondering firstly what the hell was going on, secondly, who this Lieutenant Antilles was - what were the chances of there really being someone with that name onboard - and lastly, more realistically, if he could take Wez Reece down and get off the Destroyer before they caught up with him.

He slowed as they reached Systems Analysis, but the tall man kept walking, so Han stopped, pointing at the door, which slid open, “Uuuhh?”

“This way please, Lieutenant.” Reece turned away and continued, leaving Han to stare after him.

See, now this really isn’t good. Han reflected, glancing momentarily inside before stepping away and continuing behind Reece.

They walked in silence to the turbolifts and travelled in silence to who-knew-where. By now, Han fully expecting to come out into a room full of stormtroopers- or maybe the Detention Level; just cut out all that chasing around and take him straight there then arrest him.

He leaned back against the wall, feeling the reassuring push of the small holdout blaster he wore concealed beneath his jacket at the small of his back. His expert eye had already clocked that Reece’s expensive, perfectly tailored clothes couldn’t quite conceal the blaster he wore in a shoulder-holster beneath his own jacket- and he was pretty sure the guy also wore a vibroblade or something at the small of his back. He stood like a soldier too, back straight, shoulders just slightly tensed, expecting trouble. He turned to glance at Han, who tried an easy smile; it wasn’t returned.

When the doors opened onto a quiet, wide corridor Reece stepped out without another word leaving Han to stare at his back, the smile quickly falling from his face then just as quickly reforming as the burly man turned slightly.

“This way please.” Reece prompted, setting forward.

“And what exactly is that way?” Han said before stepping warily out, unable to keep the edge from his voice now.

But the man was already walking off, so after another brief pause Han followed, glancing up and down the spacious corridor, open to a long row of large viewpanes along one wall with an uninterrupted view of the Super Star Destroyer’s impressive bulk laid out beneath it like a cityscape, the pale light of a distant star casting wan shadows across its bow. Han glanced again to the big man ahead of him, hand slipping to the small of his back as he walked, casually trying to ease the fitted Imperial uniform away from the his blaster; he probably wouldn't get a better opportunity than this...

They finally stopped at a door, the only one in the deserted corridor aside from its opposite end.

“It’s uhhh… pretty quiet round here.” Han tried, mentally calculating that he was close enough now that if he swung for the big guy with the automemo he was carrying, he may buy enough time to get his damn blaster free...

“Yes.” The tall man turned to him without emotion, making Han freeze.

He knocked lightly on the door then pressed the release, and Han glanced inside, bracing himself, hand going automatically to his concealed blaster -

But the room seemed empty. Living accommodation, large and dark, luxuriously appointed with heavy, tastefully refined furniture. He looked back at his guide, who gestured inside with a small motion of his head. After another quick check down the corridor Han entered the low-lit room, glancing about, his attention taken momentarily by that same spectacular view as the empty corridor. The door slid shut behind him and Han turned, realizing the tall man hadn’t entered…

Stood to one side of the large room, his dark clothes making him melt into the shadows, was Luke.

He remained still for a long time, just looking at Han, leaving him uneasy beneath that intense gaze. When Luke finally spoke his tone was no less unsettling, a strange mix of wryly amused and completely emotionless, his real accent completely buried beneath perfectly-modulated Coruscanti.

“You know, we always seem to meet onboard Star Destroyers.”

It took long seconds for Han to find a comeback. “Yeah, but in my defence you seem to spend an awful lot of time onboard 'em these days.”

“So do you,” Luke countered easily, “Considering your allegiance.” His tone was light and non-confrontational, yet there was something undefinable in his manner that was anything but. Han tensed, freshly wary.

“Are you gonna… put me out again?”

“Are you intending pointing that holdout blaster at me? The one under your jacket.” Luke added, as Han took a breath to voice denial.

He paused, “Oh that one- that’s just for luck.”

“It doesn’t seem to be working very well.”

“I dunno- it got me what I came here for… a chance to see you.”

“You put your Alliance to an awful lot of expense just to speak to me.”

“Well ya know, they wanted a few other stuff as well… like where you keep disappearing to. Wouldn’t care to enlighten me would you?”

Luke remained silent, still shrouded in the shadows, neither offended nor compliant.

“Operating parameters for the DEMP maybe?” Han said, “Upgraded shield system? ….no?”

Luke remained mute for long moments, impassive, unmoving. When he finally spoke, his voice was calmly resigned, all emotion hidden beneath that formal accent, strange coming from his mouth. “Is that what you came all this way to ask me?”

“No… well yeah, but I didn’t think you’d answer that stuff.”

“What did you come her for, then?”

“I guess…. I came to see you - see if you’re okay.”

“You left it a long time to ask.”

There was no trace of emotion in his neutral voice, neither accusation or judgement, but Han felt a crushing pang of guilt all the same. He glanced away, deeply uneasy, feeling the need to fill the stifling silence. “ ‘Course, why wouldn’t you be- I mean, you have your own Star Destroyer now. Super Star Destroyer. Two in fact…. well, a fleet I guess, really. And, you know… that whole Heir to the Empire thing.” He shrugged again uncomfortably, “But that’s all just… stuff, isn’t it?”

“Mostly. A few of them I need.”

Luke stepped from the shadows, that unsettling aura still about him, everything locked up tight, nothing readable to Solo despite their years of close friendship. Han shifted uneasily beneath that unsettling gaze-

Then leaned in, noticing for the first time the dark flash in the kid’s right eye. He knew of course about the deep, twisted scar - knew where it had come from - but this wasn’t described in any of the documents he’d seen. “What did you do to your eye?”

“Someone tried to blow me up.” Luke said mildly, “I thought you might have heard, given your interest in my wellbeing.”

Luke watched Han’s uneasy silence for several seconds before he relented, unable to stay angry at the Corellian, if he ever really had been in the first place. He shouldn’t have come here but then Luke shouldn’t have let him - could have stopped him at any stage.

He turned away, stepping to the console to pour two drinks, more to break the moment than anything else. To give Han as well as himself a few seconds grace, not wishing to hold him responsible for others’ actions.

He wouldn’t let them come between himself and the last real friend Luke Skywalker had. The very last to remember who Luke Skywalker was- because he couldn’t remember himself anymore. To know that there was someone out there who still saw that unrealistic, painfully naive idealist when they looked into his face was strangely reassuring.

“So where’s Chewie?”

Luke turned and walked forward to sit in a chair, his back to that impressive view, Han following and sitting opposite him. It was a long time since anyone had just sat down in Luke’s presence without express permission, and the casual informality of it felt reassuringly reminiscent of simpler times.

“I woulda’ brought him, but strangely we couldn’t make him look convincing in an Officer’s uniform.” Han said glibly.

Luke smiled, allowing himself to fall easily into that mindset again, just for a moment. “You could’ve shaved him.”

“Yeah, but I kinda like my arms attached to my body.”

Han was aware that the kid had consciously dropped his accent to a more familiar, provincial drawl- not quite what it had been though; he probably didn’t remember anymore; hadn’t heard anything but high-class for six years. “He moults enough anyway, I already find his hairs all over the Falcon…”

He stopped, unsure whether he should mention this.

Luke only twitched his eyebrows in a casual shrug, looking away. “It was no good to me - and I believe you’re the one who owns the registration documents.”

“Actually Lando still has them- he could never quite bring himself to let ‘em go. I have a bunch of others for it though- all legal of course.”

“Of course.”

The two stared for a long time, each taking the measure of the other. Han hadn’t changed at all, Luke knew. He was still the brash, self-assured pilot who’d demanded ten thousand credits for the hop from Tatooine to Alderaan eight years ago… was it only that? It seemed another lifetime... another life.

Han studied Luke as the kid studied him... he still looked so young. Just a kid, trying to find a path through some serious pudu and keep sane at the same time. Who was Han to judge that- he didn’t exactly have an impeachable record himself.

But the truth was that Luke wasn’t the same - and now, sat before him, Han couldn’t believe he’d been stubborn enough to try to convince himself otherwise. He could see it in the kids eyes, could feel it in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, like hearing a noise in the dark; like feeling a storm front close in.

He looked again at the deep, jagged scar which marked the kid’s cheek, from above his dark-cast eye clean down through his lips; noticed another on his neck half-hidden by the high collar of that impeccably-cut shirt.

The kid had changed - had to change to survive - Han had seen plenty like that in his profession; it was nothing new. People who’d had it bad and did what they had to just to survive but somehow, somewhere along the way, gradually and without even realising it, they lost some vital part of themselves. You could always tell them because they had that same neutral, dispassionate look in their eye as Luke had right now. As if nothing touched them anymore- nothing even came close.

But he hadn’t known any that made those hairs on the back of his neck prickle before.

“I’d like to thank you for that whole Bothawuii thing.” Han said at last, “With the Falcon and all- they thought I was a spy for a while.”

“Yes, they’re quick to point the finger.” Luke said then, as if correcting himself, “The Bothawuii thing?”

“I’d been trying to get Mon to move the venue of the meet fro weeks, then not only do you show up, but I get the Falcon back.”

“Ah.” Luke smiled tightly, “I could contact them if you like- put a good word in for you.”

“Would’ja?” Han deadpanned, “ ‘Cos I’m sure that would work.”

They both smiled then looked down uneasily. Luke waited the subsequent silence out, knowing what the next question would be. It took Han along time to say it, but he found the courage in the end, as Luke knew he would.

“What… happened to Mon?”

Luke met Han’s eyes, determined not to be forced to feel guilty- more by himself than Han. “You know what happened- she was executed. She led a rebellion against the Empire. The penalty for insurrection is well publicized.”

Han looked back down to his glass uneasily. Finally he murmured without looking up, struggling to find the words. “It’s just… you knew her so well.”

“Yes, I did- which was why it came as something of a surprise when she ordered my assassination.” There was an edge to his voice now, the idealistic kid Han had known completely gone. “What was I supposed to do- let her keep on taking pot-shots at me until she suceeded? "

Han said nothing, and Luke relented slightly, his voice quieting.

“They didn’t… she wasn’t interrogated. I think Palpatine knew how…” He stopped; he’d been about to admit just how uneasy he’d been at Mothma’s execution; that Palpatine clearly hadn’t felt that interrogating her - and having Luke know it - wasn’t worth the alienation it would cause between himself and his precious Jedi. But he held to silence, refusing to be made to feel he should defend his actions against someone who had tried very hard to kill him.

“I dunno.” Han murmured at last, “I just… don’t know sometimes. It’s all so…”

“Muddy.” Luke finished knowingly into the protracted silence. “It was so much easier when it was black and white, wasn’t it? They always say ‘know your enemy’, but that’s as much a hindrance as a help.”

Again the uneasy silence stretched, but it was less fraught now, neither man wishing the other any enmity. Eventually Han looked up. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to rule an Empire.” Luke said simply, no trace of doubt in his steady voice. “What are you going to do?”

“I dunno. Try to stop you I suppose.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

Han looked up at the young man before him, confident and composed before someone who had just declared their intentions to stop him, despite the fact that Han wore a sidearm and Luke, clearly, had nothing at all. But then that hadn't exactly been a flyaway success. He studied his old friend for long moments, but Luke held his eye, composed and unruffled- and completely without chagrin.

“I once had a guy tell me- when I told him I was a smuggler, a mercenary - he said… ‘You should be careful; the thing that you seek to claim has a way of reaching back and claiming you.’ ”

“Really?” the barest of ironic smiles touch the corners of Luke’s scarred lips. “I once heard him say, ‘Who’s the more foolish; the fool or the fool who follows him.’ ”

Han smiled lopsidedly at having been caught out, then the smile fell away. “Do you...”

“Forgive him? For lying to me… repeatedly? No, I don’t think I do. But then I’m sure he wouldn’t forgive me for… my decisions since.”

“Do you... hold him responsible for all this?”

The kid’s face remained absolutely neutral, whatever was going on behind that mask completely hidden. “As I said; they were my decisions.”

Han pursed his lips, glanced away; seemed almost embarrassed to ask. But when he did Luke wasn’t surprised- save that he hadn’t asked the question sooner.

“Are you… Sith?”

“Would it change your view of me?”

When Han didn’t answer, Luke frowned slightly, wrinkling the scar by his eye, “You once told me you didn’t believe in the Jedi - one must assume by extension that you shouldn’t believe Sith exist either.”

“Things change. We all make mistakes.”

“Yes… we do.”

Han frowned at the distant tone in the kid’s voice, but Luke realised immediately and whatever regrets were playing across his mind in that moment were instantly quashed. “Do you even know what a Sith is?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Should I take that as a ‘no’?”

“If I said yeah, would you answer the question?” Han said, aware now that the kid was neatly avoiding anything he didn’t want to answer.

“Probably not,” Luke replied easily, amused that his bluff was being called, again surprised it hadn’t come earlier. “Other than to say that a Sith would have no compunction about using a ‘friend’ to his own advantage.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Han realised even as he said it what the kid was getting at- it was Han, not Luke, who was asking all the questions here. Luke hadn’t asked one, not about the Alliance, what Han was really supposed to be doing here, nothing. His friendship with Han lay outside of all other considerations.

Han frowned again, glancing at his drink, “Is this Corellian?” It was hardly a subtle change of direction, but then subtlety wasn’t really Solo’s style.

“Of course.” Luke said. “I’d never dare serve you anything else.”

“It’s good- good vintage. I… um…” A long silence followed before Han looked up, shaking his head, “I don’t… I have no idea what to say.”

Luke held his gaze, face unreadable, that slight smile still etched on his features without ever reaching his eyes. “Ask what you want to ask.”

Han paused a few seconds more… “What the hell happened?”

Luke didn’t change that cool, composed expression, the brittle silence stretching out; but his mismatched eyes became distant, lost in memories Han couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“I thought he’d kill me… I thought if I made enough noise and mess getting you out, he’d just kill me and that would be it… Then I woke up in a cell, and I thought, I can still do this- if I say no enough times; if I made it difficult enough, he’ll kill me. But he never would, quite…”

He blinked as if breaking a spell and turned to Han, neither accusation nor abandonment in his gaze, but Han felt the guilt burn through him all the same, the memories of the dozens of times he'd wanted to go after the kid and let himself be talked out of it still smarting. Luke continued, face emotionless though his voice almost cracked, his accent recognizable now.

“I kept telling myself, ‘One more day. Just make it through one more day.’ And then another… and then another. And no-one ever came.” He shrugged, oddly resigned, “But then I never really thought they would... I was where I was supposed to be - what I wanted was immaterial.”

Was that… regret? Han grabbed at it with both hands, some chink in that previously impervious armour. “You don’t believe they’re right…”

“I don’t think you’re right either - I don’t think there is a right - not anymore.”

“Then leave! Just leave- get out of here.”

“And go where? There’s no place Palpatine wouldn’t find me, not now. There’s no-where left to hide. He’d raze a planet to track me down, burn through a whole system if he thought it would flush me from hiding- he’s made that very clear and believe me he never bluffs.”

“Go to the outer systems, the Unknown Regions. Take the Falcon- you can have her.”

Luke smiled at that, knowing Solo meant it. “If I did I’d be signing your death warrant. And the Rebellion’s. And anyone else who’d ever known me- anyone at all. He’d take you all down; first because he’d believe you’d helped me and second because he’d… he’d know that I’d sense it and eventually I’d have to come back just to stop it. And there are people here too now, people in the Palace who…” he stopped abruptly, as if realising what he was saying, those shields dropping into place with practiced ease. “And anyway; I need to stay. I have plans in motion and as I’ve told you, most of them involve my ruling the Empire one day. Which would be difficult to do from the back of beyond.”

Han shook his head, frustration fuelling his discontent, but Luke only smiled again, amused at his friend’s unease.

“I think,” Luke said at last, “That one of the things I’ve learned being here is… not to take things so personally. Sometimes in the real world we have to accept that there are complications to every friendship. But that doesn’t necessarily exclude them.”

Han recognized the offer on the table... and why did the kid even have to check? He nodded, tipping his head, throwing out a casual jibe at his friend, “When the hell did you get so smart?”

The smile which had hovered on Luke's lips for so long finally touched his eyes, “Well you know, one of us had to grow up eventually.”

They were silent for a moment, but it was less fraught this time, more comfortable. Han took a gulp from the brandy, still smiling into the glass…

Luke glanced sharply away then back to Solo, rising, his voice clipped and formal again. “Well this has been interesting, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Han frowned, thrown by the sudden change in the kid’s demeanour, “What?”

“Mara Jade’s on her way up here and she doesn’t keep secrets well.”

Han glanced to the doorway Luke had already reached, himself rising. He almost asked how Luke knew, but stopped himself in time.

“She’s been around a long time.” he observed instead, “Are you and she uh…?”

Those mismatched eyes seemed to see clean through him. “She’s still Palpatine’s agent.”

“Hey I didn’t ask if it was serious.”

The kid just smiled enigmatically, leaving Han to frown at his friend, curious…

“You need to take a left-” Luke said. “At the end of the corridor there’s an emergency exit which has a deactivated alarm. Take the staircase up three levels- no further. When you come out onto the corridor you’ll be under surveillance again but the lens is on your right hand side and doesn’t cover the actual door. Turn to your left and don’t look back and you won’t be I.D.’d. Go straight to the nearest turbolift and don’t get off until someone else is in the lift- and don’t press the floor you need."

Han nodded, frustrated that their brief discussion was coming to an end all too quickly, "We should... do this again."

"No, we really shouldn't." The kid stated unequivocally, though there was amusment in his voice. "When you get back to your quarters, you should pack your bags and go. I assume you can get your own transport?”

“Hey- it’s me.”

Luke broke into a genuine smile, quickly quashed, and Han couldn’t help but do the same. He had, he supposed, everything he’d come here for; let the others take care of the rest. He’d come to find an old friend- and much to his own relief, he hadn’t been disappointed.

“Good to see you again, kid. Take care of yourself.”

Luke smiled just slightly, those strange mismatched eyes at once familiar and strange. Han nodded once then set off down the corridor, two steps away before Luke’s quiet voice called out, “Solo-”

Han turned and Skywalker raised his eyebrows pointedly, though he was still smiling, “You sneak back onboard my ship again and I’ll throw you in the brig.”

Unexpectedly, still figuring out his escape route, Han was visited just a few hours later by the big, no-nonsense dark-haired Aide, who politely but firmly told him to gather his stuff, then led him in silence to one of the restricted Bays.

When the massive bay doors cycled open, Han’s eyes skipped about, trying to take it all in. This was one of the 701st bays, he knew, out of bounds to all personnel except members of The Heir’s own squadron. The Alliance had no information at all on the 701st, except that they were completely loyal to The Heir; no idea of numbers, vocations, units, nothing. General opinion in the Intel circuits was that this was because the Empire didn’t either- you couldn’t steal information that nobody had.

Less than half the soldiers present were in ‘trooper’s armour, the rest in fatigues, a few in civilian clothes. The ships too were a mix, mostly TIE’s, a squadron of I-TIE’s neatly stowed, several skiprays and blastboats to the rear of the bay, none with military markings; he took care to try to remember those- he may come face to face with them again when he was in the Falcon an if he did, he wanted to know about it. Nothing bigger here, but then there were nine bays in total dedicated to the 701st.

He was still glancing about, trying to remember specifics, when Reece slowed ahead of him, making Han turn. They’d stopped near the front of the bay, a sleek but not too new shuttle there. Luke stood close by, speaking to a tall, moustache’d man with sharp eyes and a casual, effected slouch. He wore civiian clothes and a time-worn gunbelt. The matt, oiled blaster in it was a newer moel of Han's own Blastech.

When Luke turned simply nodding in recognition.

“Karrde, this is Solin; Solin, Karrde.”

The two men glanced at each-other, each giving the other a professional once-over.

“Karrde has agreed to give you passage to the nearest planet.” Luke continued.

Han opened his mouth to object, but Luke kept on talking without acknowledging him, explaining away his change of heart at leaving Han to make his own arrangements to leave without giving too much away. “Unsurprisingly, we keep a close tab on the military ships assigned to the Patriot.”

Han frowned, wondering if there was more to it than that, but clearly now, before Karrde, was not the time to talk. Still, he couldn’t help but make one last ditch try, uncomfortable at being cornered like this. “Ah, you’d never miss one ship on a Destroyer this size.”

“Until it turned up trying to sneak back onboard with a hold full of explosives.” Luke said mildly, tone neither accusing nor judgemental. “Besides, Karrde is heading your way.”

“Which way’s that?”

“Out.” Luke said succinctly; “Quietly.”

He took a step back, clearing Han’s path up into the shuttle, and Han nodded once, setting forward.

“Incidentally… Solin; you forgot something.”

A second man who had been stood close by, short and slight with olive skin and sharp, watchful eyes, stepped forward to hand Han a small box. He took it warily, unsure what would be inside.

When he opened it, it contained the five transmitters that Han had spent the last few days placing in strategic points throughout the Destroyer.

“Thanks for that.” he muttered dryly.

“No- thank you.” Luke said with a tip of his head, but there was humour in his voice so Han rolled his eyes before hesitating, unsure what to say, aware that many eyes were on him - that so much had changed.

But some things remained the same, if only because Han wilfully kept them so.

“Be careful.” He warned the kid, a brotherly tone in his voice.

Luke smiled, tightly, appreciative of the genuine concern, aware of his own for Han.

“Keep doing what you’re best at.”

For a moment Han frowned, uncertain what he meant, then a stray memory connected; of long ago, in the Rebel base on Yavin, the Death Star closing in; when Han had told the kid he was leaving - leaving the Alliance, leaving that whole sorry mess behind - told Luke if he had an ounce of sense he’d do the same.

“Well take care of yourself, Han.” The kid had told him, so fresh he probably still had Tatooine sand in his boots, “But then I guess that’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?”

At the time it had been an insult, but they’d laughed it off within the day, gotten themselves fall-down-drunk and put the galaxy to rights the same night. It was all so easy, black and white. Reality... that was all the greys in between.

The Corellian nodded, suddenly melancholy, briefly smiling that lopsided grin before turning to walk up the ramp.

Karrde studied the Heir as he watched the unknown man walk up the shuttle ramp, aware that there was more going on here than met the eye- though that was true of most of his meetings with the Heir.

Luke watched in silence as Han disappeared into the ship, well aware of Karrde’s curious eyes on him. His change of heart had been prompted by a reconsideration of just how much trouble Solo was capable of generating even when doing something as simple as leaving the Destroyer. Something would happen and it would all go ballistic- it always did with Han.

And even if it didn’t, Palpatine would never believe that someone had simply stolen onboard a Destroyer that Luke commanded and made off with a ship. Especially when he went after the other spies, which he intended to do just as soon as Karrde left - which once more made Han’s return to the Rebels a little muddy.

He had no idea what story Han would give for his time onboard the Patriot - whether he would admit to having spoken to Luke or not - but the opportunity to add a little ambiguity to the plot was just too tempting to pass up. Those who thought Han was trustworthy would believe this just another attempt by The Heir to muddy Solo’s reputation in the Rebellion and those who thought him a double-agent would see it as proof for the very same reasons.

Plus it helped to alleviate the pressure from Argot, which was never something to be passed up on. Han would weather it unbothered, as he did most things, and it seemed that whilst their friendship remained intact, the occasional play wasn't out of the question; Solo hadn't come clean about the transmittrs after all.

Without turning, Luke waited until Han was entering the shuttle before saying quietly to Karrde, voice dry and distant, “Try not to shoot him- I know you’ll be very tempted at times, but…”

“I’ll endeavour to refrain.” The mercenary said matter-of-factly, “Though with Corellians that can be hard.”

“You’re Corellian.”

“Yes,” The mercenary drawled, eyes still on the vacant ramp. “One has to appreciate the paradox that is my life.”

Luke glanced sideways at Karrde before looking back to the now-empty ramp.

“Perhaps I should have told him not to shoot you.” he said wryly. “Just drop him somewhere neutral; he can look after himself from there.”

“I can imagine.”

“And don’t tell him anything.”

Karrde’s dark eyes came back quickly at that, “I thought you said he was one of your operatives.”

“He is- he just doesn’t know it. I’ll be in contact.” Luke turned before Karrde could quiz him further, glancing back as he left to add, “You should check your passenger- he’s probably on your bridge by now.”

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