Dynasty: Chunk Forty-Three
by Valerie Vancollie and Rebecca Thomson
"Anja?" Luke questioned as he entered the room he and his wife were using as their bedroom on the floor they were using of the Royal Liso Hotel. Looking around he saw her sitting in a flower patterned armchair before one of the many windows the room had. "Are you all right, love?" he inquired as he moved towards her.
"They're really gone, aren't they?" Anjaleen questioned, her voice soft and filled with emotion.
"Yes," Luke confirmed as he knelt next to the chair. "They're gone."
"I didn't even get to say goodbye," Anja stated as she turned a tear streaked face to her husband.
"I know," Luke replied as he placed a hand on her arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "But at least they didn't suffer. They never knew what happened."
"True," Anja agreed. "But that doesn't make it much easier. They weren't supposed to die yet."
"I know," Luke repeated, unsure of what to say to comfort his wife. Other than using the Force there was nothing he could do and he didn't want to use the Force on Anjaleen unless it was absolutely necessary. He hated feeling so helpless while she was in so much pain. "But the Rebels will not go unpunished for this. They will pay, I promise you."
"I don't doubt that for a second," Anja declared as she brought a hand to her mouth just as new tears started to roll down her cheeks. "It's not fair!"
"Shh," Luke said soothingly as he reached out and awkwardly pulled her towards him, knowing that she had finally fully accepted the situation and needed to cry for a little while.
"General," Levithian said as he entered Ragorsh's office and saluted.
"Commander," Ragorsh replied as he returned the salute.
"We have just received a report from mission Delta," Levithian began. "The raid on Jine's main spaceport was a complete success. The weapons were captured and shall be here in a week when the raid members return without any casualties."
"Perfect," Ragorsh replied, pleased. "Once we have those weapons we can attack an important Imperial base and show them just what we can do. The elimination of the Winiterures made us known, our next attack will show them that it wasn't just a single victory and then nothing like the destruction of the Death Star was."
"Understood, Sir," Levithian responded with a smile, glad that serious action would finally be taken. This was what a true rebellion was, unlike the Alliance which simply talked of rebelling but didn't actually do anything.
Prince Vader was standing on the bridge of his ship, watching the stars. Twirling a datareader in his fingers. The turbolift opened, and Luke walked out, striding across the deck, ignoring everyone. Darth could feel the officer's ears perk up, hoping to hear of their plans. The men were excited, the two Sith rarely got to work together so closely. Something was bound to happen.
"Father, my wife and I are ready to depart." Luke clearly said, bowing. Silently he added. 'Of course, she will go on home on the shuttle, and I will continue the chase.'
'Of course.' Darth answered, replying out loud. "Very well. Here, read this before you go." He handed the reader to Luke, who began to scan it. 'It should be one of the bases that still remains in Mon Mothma's power. Perhaps we should divide that pile of scrap called a fleet.' Darth privately added, speaking straight to his son's mind.
He suppressed a sneer at the condition of the ships held in the Conqueror's landing bay. The ships were being repaired and readied for a raid against the Rebels, but they still looked like heaps of junk in his eyes. Prince Vader hoped that the ruse would work- having the two groups of Rebels at each other's throats would speed the end of this stupid Rebellion, once and for all.
"Yes, it is interesting. I will be sure to tell his Majesty." Luke replied, silently adding, 'yes, we should divide our forces, but I would think that the larger half should still go with me- we are positive of that base's location, and who it belongs to.'
"Please do." Darth replied, keeping up the verbal ruse to fool his crew. It was tiresome, but they had to prevent any spies from figuring out what they were going to do. 'I only want a handful of ships- just enough for a quick bombing run. That should do the trick. The base is quite small.'
'I will have them sent over.' Luke replied.
The Prince nodded to his son. "And send him my regards. I will return as soon as I am able."
Luke bowed, turning as he was dismissed.
"And Luke?" His father whispered, loud enough to be heard by a few of the officers. "Contact me if his condition changes. Even the least little bit."
Luke bowed again, then walked out. Both Sith knew that Luke would not be able to call if anything happened to the Emperor, but Grandfather should be fine for the next few weeks. And it was time to start the rumors of Grandfather's true condition. It would make the inevitable easier for the people, if it wasn't a surprise.
Darth Vader turned to the Admiral, who had been waiting politely off to the side. The man looked only slightly alarmed, having just realized that the faint whispers of the Emperor's advancing age were true. Vader sighed. "Yes Admiral?"
"Hand me the hydrospanner."
Sean looked over the tools in the maintenance box and tentatively picked one up. "Is this it?"
Lord Luke snickered. "Yes." The young lord realized that Sean had never done any work on anything mechanical in his life, coming from a rich family. This must be a new experience for him. The tool yanked out of Sean's hands, flying up to Luke. He was perched on the body of an old X-wing, wearing a brown coverall, hands deep in the craft's innards.
"My Lord, are you sure it's wise for you to 'fix up' your own craft?"
Luke grinned. "I'm probably doing a better job than the regular mechanics. They are used to working on TIEs, and this craft is a lot like the Skyhopper I grew up racing. I built my own from the ground up, I wouldn't worry. Flies the same too, pretty much."
The Admiral MacNelly came walking across the hangar bay, frowning at the sight of so many X-wings and assorted craft docked in his hold. He spied Luke, eyes widening. He took a few steps closer to the Sith, clearing his throat. "My Lord, you really aren't going to fly that thing, are you?"
"Yes, Admiral, I am."
"But my Lord-"
Luke waved a greasy hand. "I have to. For the first time in some of these pilot's lives, the enemy will be flying craft that look exactly like the ships they are flying. I'm the only one who can tell them apart, without even looking. I can sense the difference between their minds. And- we will be unable to bring your ship within com range for the attack. We'll actually have to hyper in within range of the base, or we won't look like another set of Rebels. This way, I can command the attack from the battlefield."
The Admiral sighed. Luke gave the man a tight smile. "And," he added, "I've always wondered what it was like to fly one." He patted the orange hull, scratches and all.
Young Lord Vader sighed, jockeying the ship into formation. Her stabilizers were touchy, but she was behaving nicely. Luke looked around, groaning at the uneven spacing between the ships. The other pilots were nervous and unfamiliar with their craft, and it showed. "Tighten the formation." Luke ordered, watching the other ships inch closer.
'This was such a brilliant idea,' Luke fumed to himself, 'we'll be lucky to come off anywhere near convincing.' At least they had managed to install scramblers in all the snub's coms, so that the Rebels wouldn't overhear their transmissions during the fight.
"This is Lord Vader," Luke said into the all-ship com. The other ships quieted, listening. "We will be departing shortly. You know our objective. We will attack the Rebel base, bombing and strafing runs only till they get their snubs in the air. Then we will fly out of there as fast as we can. Do not engage the enemy, unless you have to. Remember to hyper back to the pre-arranged coordinates as soon as you see anything lifting from their base. We only have to give them a good scare." Luke clicked off, refusing to lecture them anymore.
He took a deep breath. "Admiral, we are ready." 'No we're not!' Luke fumed to himself, feeling the nervousness of the other pilots.
"Yes, Lord Vader. We await your safe return." Even Nathaniel sounded nervous.
Luke smiled sourly to himself as he ordered the two squads to depart.
"Tell me more," Ragorsh demanded as he looked at the holo shimmering in the air before him. "Why this Imperial base and not a different one?"
"To begin with, this base, though important, is in a more isolated region of the galaxy," Major Harq explained as he glanced at the information he had gathered when ordered to find a target for their next attack. "And the Star Destroyers normally protecting it have been recalled to have some updating work done. We shall have a window of three days during which the base's only defenses will be the ones it has on the ground."
"The perfect opening," Ragorsh stated as he looked at the Major. "And what are the base's ground defenses?"
"They have the standard--" Harq began, but was cut off as a loud, deafening siren sounded.
"What the...?" Ragorsh said before he hit the com, recognizing the siren as that signaling an enemy attack. "What's happening?"
"We... we're begin attacked," a man replied.
"I know that!" Ragorsh snapped, making a mental note of getting more competent people to run things. "Who is attacking? Imperials? Space pirates? And what are their number?"
"Rebels," the man responded, stunned. "The attacking ships are X-wings... I've tried to contact them but their communication is jammed. Should we return fire?"
"YES!" Ragorsh ordered. "If they open fire on us, we will protect ourselves," he said before he was out of the door and made his way towards the base control center. "Show me some visuals," he demanded as he stormed into the room.
"Yes, Sir," an Ithorian replied as he carried out his orders and also brought up visuals of their own fighters preparing to attack.
"I don't believe this!" Ragorsh exploded, his rage surging through his veins. "Mothma is attacking us!"
"Mon Mothma?" Major Harq questioned in disbelief as he entered the control room. "Why would she do that? It's not like her to do such things."
"Who knows?" Ragorsh replied. "She's probably angry that we left her or..." he began as another explanation entered his mind.
"Or what?" Harq probed curiously.
"Nothing," Ragorsh stated, he needed time to think about that angle first before he said anything aloud. "Get me an open channel to our pilots."
"Done," the Ithorian declared seconds later just as the X-wings lifted off to meet their attacking duplicates. "You have an open connection and waiting pilots."
"Stick to your formations here," Ragorsh ordered as he surveyed the damage already caused to the outside of the base which was above ground while he was safely underground. "We don't want you shooting down yourselves."
"Sir," a women monitoring one of the various observation panels suddenly called out. "They're retreating."
"What?" Ragorsh asked as he turned to face the speaker.
"They're retreating," the woman repeated. "They began this when our fighters lifted off."
"Visuals coming up," the Ithorian stated, anticipating the general's orders.
"Definitely Mothma," Ragorsh concluded confidently as he watched the enemy X-wings jumping into hyperspace one by one. "Hit and run so that she doesn't risk any of her own men's lives even if she stands to gain much more by doing so. This attack will not go unpunished! She will pay for this!"
Luke slid himself down the nose of the ship back in the hangar of the Conqueror. Admiral MacNelly was waiting, stepping forward towards the Dark Lord.
Luke sighed, feet swinging, looking at the deck from the edge of the ship. He looked over at the approaching Imperial Admiral. "Admiral."
Nathaniel gulped. "My Lord? How did it go?"
Luke shrugged, feet still. "The Rebels were fooled. But I am afraid that your men make horrible Rebel pilots. It's a good thing we fixed the com frequencies, or it would have been all over- they used nothing but Imperial command words."
Admiral MacNelly gave Luke a tight smile. "I'm sure that my men never had 'impersonating a Rebel' at the Academy, my Lord."
Luke smiled back, dropping to the floor. "I'm going to go change. Take me home."
"Yes, my Lord." The Admiral said.
"My Lady," Rachel said as she approached Anjaleen who was sitting before one of the windows on the shuttle.
"Yes?" Anja questioned as she turned her head towards her maid instead of looking at the yellowish-white streaks that was all that one could see while in hyperspace.
"Your drink," Rachel replied as she handed the young woman the cocktail she had ordered. "Weng estimates that we should be arriving above Coruscant within the next ten minutes or so."
"Thank you," Anja responded as she took her drink and turned to stare back out of the window, grieving.
"I'll be next door if you need anything," Rachel stated and got a nod in response, making her wonder if Anjaleen had really heard it or not.
The moment she heard the door close as the other woman left, Anja sighed before she took a sip of her drink. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't take her mind off the fact that her parents were dead, not even for a few minutes. Even knowing that Luke was going after the Rebels didn't ease her mind. They were gone and that was the end of it. Despite what she had said in Vess' presence, she couldn't really bring herself to blame them for what happened any longer. If her father had believed that there was any true danger then he would not have attended the show, but there had been no proof that something like this would occur, only a possibility and one couldn't live their live by suspicions as then one would never do anything. For she knew that even if there had been tighter security, there was no way to prevent what had happened. The Rebels might still have infiltrated the crowd and shot down the floating platform if there had been extra guards present.
With one hand Anja wiped the tears off her face before she took another sip of her drink as her thoughts took her back to her parents' funeral. Following tradition, her parents' charred bodies had been wrapped in Vulcian silk and had been placed in coffins which had then been jettisoned into space close to the sun so that they would be pulled into the star by its gravity well. Due to the fact that Sasha and Randolf had been members of the Royal Family, and since a lot of people had shown up for the funeral, the traditional rights of passage had been held in the docking bay of the Executor.
Anjaleen pushed the memories aside as she looked out the viewport once more as she felt the slight jolt which came when exiting hyperspace. For the first time in her life, she couldn't care less for the beautiful spectacle before her as the shuttle quickly approached the capital planet and descended into its atmosphere. All she could think about was how she wouldn't have to hide her emotions now as the only people who would see her were the servants. After saying goodbye to her husband and heading home, she had decided to simply spend the few days until he returned doing nothing. Unless, of course, the Emperor requested her presence as he did from time-to-time.
The moment the shuttle came to rest on the landing pad of the castle, Anjaleen finished her drink and got to her feet, making her way towards the ramp.
"My Lady," Mark said as he bowed, cringing at the dark circles that were visible under the young woman's eyes despite the makeup she wore.
"Mark," Anja replied curtly as she made her way indoors.
"There are messages for you," Mark informed her hesitantly. "Lots of them."
"From who?" Anja demanded as she turned to face the servant, surprised.
"They're from the citizens of the Empire," Mark responded. "Condolences."
"Bring them up to my room," Anja ordered, touched that the people clearly felt sorry for her.
Prince Vader sneered as he looked at the assembly of X-wings displayed before him as he stood on the bridge of the small, old Corellian cruiser he had obtained after Luke had left on his raid. After the attack on Ragorsh's base, Luke had sent word of how easily the Rebels had fallen for the ploy and Vader was confident that the attack on one of Mon Mothma's bases would have the same results. It wasn't a very large base, but it was one of the older ones and thus he knew for certain that Ragorsh had known of this base's existence and that was vital to the plan. After all, how would the Rebel General be able to attack a base whose existence he didn't know of?
Vader shook his head as he scanned the minds of the Imperial pilots who were in the cockpits of the X-wings. So far everything was transpiring according to plan. Luke's attack on the other Rebel base had gone smoothly and in just a few minutes the cruiser he was in and the X-wings in space around it would make the small hyperspace jump needed to bring just outside of the gravity well of the planet the Alliance base was on.
"All fighters have reported in, my Lord," Commander Solipon informed him as he stopped next to the Dark Lord. "We are ready to leave."
"Good," Vader stated as he turned to face the man. "Prepare to make the jump and remind everyone that we will only remain there long enough to do some damage and then to flee. Also, tell the men manning the turbolasers that I want the communications center of the base to remain untouched until we have confirmed that the Rebels have sent out a signal to Mothma and Rieekan."
"As you wish."
"I repeat, we are being attacked by X-wings and a Corellian cruiser," a panicked and heavily accented voice said.
"Can you give us any more information?" a calm voice replied. "What model is the cruiser?"
"Old Republic type 945," the accented voice stated. "We need backup rig--"
"Ouch," General Rieekan muttered as the recording abruptly ended with a loud squealing sound.
"Indeed," Mon Mothma agreed absently before she turned serious. "This transmission was made late yesterday afternoon from our base in the Bonli system. We have been unable to establish any form of contact with them since then."
"Ragorsh?" Rieekan inquired softly as silence feel over the room.
"Who else?" Mon Mothma replied. "The Empire doesn't have or use X-wings and the former general didn't leave us under favorable circumstances either."
"Do you think he believes that rumor he spread?" Rieekan questioned. "The ones that implied that we are Imperial Operatives?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore," Mon Mothma declared as pain filled her voice. "After all, I used to believe that Ragorsh was one of us. I used to believe that we would win this war. I used to believe that the people would all unite and tear down this horrific Empire... How could he have betrayed us like this?"
"He probably thinks that we betrayed him," Rieekan summarized. "What with his arrest and all. He truly thought that what he did to the Winiterures' was correct and the right thing to do. But, I'll admit, I never thought that he'd purposefully harm us. Continue fighting his way on his own, yes; try to destroy us, no. After all, he's only hurting himself by starting another war."
"So what do we do?" Mon Mothma asked as she rubbed her forehead.
"There's only two things we can do. We can do nothing and risk Ragorsh attacking more of our bases, or we can respond and attack back," Rieekan said after a moments thought as he saw the weariness he felt etched into the woman's face.
"Either way we loose," Mothma stated the obvious.
"Mon Mothma! General Rieekan!" a voice over the com system exclaimed. "We have just made contact with our base in the Bonli system."
"So they weren't destroyed," Mon Mothma commented with relief.
"Let's go see if they know something we don't," Rieekan suggested as he got to his feet.
They entered the main communications center of the base, motioning the technician to open the channel. "This is Mon Mothma, can you please give us any information on your attackers?" She spoke clearly over the background buzz of all the working technicians.
"Yes I can," the voice from Bonli bitterly replied. "They came out of hyperspace in a loose formation, X-wings and the cruiser. They kept to strafing runs, mostly. Just shooting us up and dropping bombs. As soon as we got our fighters in the air, they left. Our communications was cut just before our fighters took off, so the equipment wasn't too badly damaged."
"Where there any troop carriers?" Mon Mothma said, worried.
"No. Purely hit and run- they didn't land, or take anything. Not that we have much, when Ragorsh's men left, they took everything. Everything they could carry, anyway. They even took most of our food."
Mon Mothma and Rieekan exchanged looks. Ragorsh had known the exact location and supplies of this particular base. "Did you recognize any of the ships?" Mon Mothma asked, dreading the answer.
"Not really. One of our pilots swears that one of the X-wings was at the last base he was stationed at- one of its wings is a little bent- but nothing is confirmed."
"Which base?" Rieekan asked, voice tight.
"Wilcox One. He asked for a transfer, because he didn't like the company." The man's voice was dripping with irony, and Mon Mothma bit her lip. They had lost Wilcox One to Ragorsh, the entire base had not reported in. Most of the Alliance members knew which bases had been lost by now, the rumors were flying- no wonder the man sounded so bitter.
"Thank you for your information, is there anything you need?" Mon Mothma asked, wanting only to leave the room and think, to lock herself away from the troubles of this war.
"No. They managed to miss our storeroom, we've got enough food. Actually, most of the damage is cosmetic. This attack seemed to be more of a show than a battle. But, I will tell you this- we're going to move our location as soon as we can. I'm not letting that maniac find us again. Who knows what he'll do next?"
Rieekan cleared his throat. "This is General Rieekan, and there is no proof that Ragorsh was behind this attack."
"Sorry General, but who else could it be? We all know that Ragorsh left under the charge of treason. And he doesn't mind who he kills. But I have a base to fix. Bonli out."
Mon Mothma signaled to Rieekan, and the two retreated to a conference room, closing out the sounds of the busy room.
"It has to be him." Mon Mothma said.
"Not necessarily." Rieekan replied. "I have a feeling, and the Empire knows-"
"The Empire?" Mon Mothma asked, "they aren't this subtle! If they knew where one of our bases were, they would call a full out attack in a minute! You know they would! For the last twenty years it has always been the same- as soon as they located us, they attack. I know what you're thinking, that they know that the Alliance has split- but I can't see them changing tactics."
"You have to admit- it is strange that he would hit a base with no supplies. And he performed no raid. It's not like him."
"He had already striped it bare. And he was just making a point. He's made it no secret that he considers us the traitors."
"The report is sketchy, at best. Besides, what can we do, other than declare war against the men we used to be allied with?" General Rieekan argued, "I know it hurts not to respond to this, but we have to pick our battles. And the Empire should be first."
"I know. I know. But I'm afraid that if we wait too long, it will only get worse."
"The attack went well enough," Prince Vader told the holo-image of Luke, "but I am surprised that you are at the Palace. Is your wife feeling better?"
The image of Luke shrugged. "Well enough. But I'm using her more for an excuse to be here on Coruscant, Father. Grandfather isn't doing so well. He slept through afternoon court, and he looks awfully pale."
"That is sooner than I expected. Do I need to return?" Prince Vader became instantly formal. Luke shook his head no.
"I don't think so. His Majesty just needs to rest for a few days- I think he caught a cold. At least, that's what the doctor says, and I know he's not lying to me. But while I'm here, I can keep the courtiers in line till he's better. So Anja's playing 'weak female'. And I'm her dotting husband."
Darth nodded back. "He's never gotten sick before, but I know he's getting older, and can't do as much anymore. It is good that your wife can play that part."
"I don't know how much of an act it is." Luke replied, looking confused. "She's fine one minute, and crying the next. And I don't know what to do with her when she's like that."
"That's normal, actually. Most people aren't trained to control their emotions like you are. They can not control when they grieve."
"Speaking of not trained- guess what got delivered to the castle today?" Luke looked upset, and Darth racked his brain, "Fifi. Sasha's pet- that little fur-ball." Luke bitterly continued. "Seems Randolf's heir didn't want it, and figured he could pawn it off on Anja. 'To remember her mother by.' And I can't tell if Anjaleen will let me get rid of it."
"No." Darth Vader looked suddenly furious, his blue eyes snapping. "I will not have that... that... thing under my roof."
Luke held up a hand. "That's all I wanted to know. I'll tell her that we'll find it a good home- her mother's considered a martyr to the Empire, you know. Someone in the galaxy is probably fool enough to be honored to have it."
"Imperials. They're Imperials. That raid just proves it. They could have picked a dozen bases of the Empire to attack, if all you wanted was a quick bombing run, but they spent their resources on us." General Ragorsh paced the long room, walking behind the chairs of the men sitting at the narrow table. The room was dim, the lights flickering- the main generator was still being repaired- and the air smelled of smoke.
The men nodded, someone cursed Mon Mothma's mother. The man who was sitting to the right of the head of the table cleared his throat.
"Yes, Major Harq?" The general asked.
"We are unable to perform our planned raid on the Imperial base. We lost too may supplies to Mon Mothma's attack. We will have to raid another civilian port in order to restock."
The general cursed. "Very well. Pick a target. But I want all our men to know that the members of Mon Mothma's Alliance are not to be trusted."
"Yes, Sir."
"Oh, Nastalia, they're at it again." Anjaleen stood up in the sitting room, turning to the holovid, and the news program showing there. Flames were shooting up the side of the building shown, and the announcer was busy explaining the latest Rebel raid.
"You really shouldn't be watching that."
"I'm not the only one who has lost someone to these criminals, Nastalia. You'd be horrified to know how many people wrote me to say they understood, because they had lost family too."
"Ragorsh needs to be stopped," Mon Mothma declared as she watched the news program and learned of the General's latest attack on a civilian target. "Even if he wasn't behind the raid on the Bonli base we can't allow him to continue like this."
"What do you have in mind?" Rieekan questioned as he turned down the volume on the holoset and leaned back in the chair, looking at the Alliance leader.
"I'm not sure," Mon Mothma admitted. "I don't want to start another war, we can't afford to take on another enemy in our current state, but those bloody raids need to be halted. Despite our announcement of his working separately from us, public opinion of us is going down."
"True," Rieekan agreed as he looked at the datapads scattered across the nearly empty conference table. Each one showed different statistics taken by both Imperials and Rebels, some on civilian support for either side of the war, some on recruitment levels, and others on protests. Although all different, they all supported the fact that the people were backing the Empire more than the Alliance and the number who supported the Alliance was shirking quickly each time Ragorsh made another raid. "But what do we do?"
"There is only one thing we can do," Mon Mothma stated as she felt her heart sink. Her plan could well lead to the destruction of the Alliance as well as that of the rogue General's fraction. But if she did nothing the Alliance would definitely die, due to lack of support and members. "We need to turn him in."
"What?!" Rieekan exclaimed, stunned. "But... but..."
"Do you have a different suggestion?" Mon Mothma questioned.
"No," Rieekan admitted as he lowered his eyes, knowing that the woman was correct, but not liking it at all.
"I wish there was another way as well," Mothma voiced her opinion as she slumped back in her chair. "But there isn't. We need to do something or we'll wither away. True, there are a lot of ways this method can go wrong, but its better than no chances at all."
"I can't believe that it's come to this," Rieekan commented as he rubbed his eyes. "Only a few years ago everything was looking so good. We were scoring major victories and had nearly total backing in the Outer Rim Territories and now we're down to betraying our former allies. This will not go well with our current allies."
"I know," Mon Mothma sighed. "Force knows that I know."
"Shall I have all our spies among Ragorsh's men report in and give their locations?" Rieekan inquired as he thought of the few men he had been able to smuggle in among the deserters who had gone with the rogue General.
"Yes," Mon Mothma stated. "If we do this, we need to do it right, otherwise we'll end up paying the price for it when Ragorsh or his men come after us for revenge."
Luke was glad that he had changed before coming as he entered the throne room; the room was uncomfortably hot. He was sure that the Royal Guards were grateful that their suits had built-in temperature regulators as they'd be sweating profusely in their scarlet grab otherwise. Turning his attention to his grandfather as he mounted the stairs, he flinched slightly at the visible signs of aging he saw there.
"Guards, leave us," Palpatine wheezed as Luke bowed before him.
"You called, your Majesty," Luke said as the guards left.
"Yes," the Emperor confirmed as he studied his grandson. Luke had transformed into a totally different man during the time since he had first been discovered by his father to the present. He had changed from a backwater farm boy into a more than suitable heir for the galactic throne. For at least two more generations the throne would be in capable hands and he had no doubt that his son and grandson would see that their successors would be just as worthy. "We need to talk. Sit."
As he seated himself on the floor next to the throne, Luke couldn't help but feel unnerved by the habit his grandfather now had of having him seated during their sessions together in this room. It wasn't that he minded sitting, but it was a change that had occurred when the other man had first begun to show signs of aging. And he didn't want to think of that.
"My time here is rapidly drawing to a close," Palpatine declared and caught the sharp reaction this drew from the young Sith Lord next to him.
The emotions cursing through the younger man caused the Galactic Ruler to smile. For the first time in history a Sith apprentice was actually dreading the day his master died. Normally that day was anticipated, even brought forward if the apprentice had the necessary abilities to do so. This showed that he had not only eliminated that which he hated, but that he had also perfected that which he liked. He had changed the galaxy forever. He had fulfilled all the goals he had set out to do. The Jedi and the Republic were practically gone, mere ghosts was all that were left of them, he had achieved the Sith dream of ruling the galaxy, and he had worthy heirs to continue his legacy. Everything he could see, including all the stars that littered the night sky, were his and it would all remain in Sith hands forever.
"Grandfather--" Luke began, not liking the direction the conversation was taking.
"We can not avoid this topic forever," Palpatine declared, interrupting the other as he sensed the Dark Lord's feelings. "And now is just as good a time as any to discuss it. There are certain things which need to be planned before I die."
"Very well," Luke replied, knowing that the elder man was correct.
"Among those things are preparations for my funeral and your father's coronation."
"Prince Vader," Captain Polis said as he approached the Dark Lord, thanking fate that the call had arrived on his watch while the Admiral was on his free time.
"Yes?" Vader demanded as he turned to face the slightly overweight, middle-aged man with graying hair.
"We have just received a call from an unknown source," Polis began as his excitement built up within him, the fact that he was delivering this news would surely score him points with the Prince and that was always good considering the other's reputation. "It was from the Alliance, their General Rieekan to be exact."
"Why did they contact us?" Vader probed as his mind raced. The Alliance contacting an Imperial ship was an unprecedented event in the history of the Galactic Civil War. Even with scramblers and all the various other devices that existed the chances of their tracing the signal back to its source were simply too great for the Rebels to risk. So why were they doing it now?
"They gave us a list of all the bases of the man who ordered the attack on the Winiterures," Polis explained as he felt anger come to live within him as he thought back to the attack. How dare the Rebels go after the Royal Family?!
"Perfect," Vader stated as he smiled, his black jeweled robes swirling as he moved past the Captain. "Send the list to my rooms. I need to go over the information."
"As you wish," Polis responded.
"As far as we can tell, Mon Mothma and General Rieekan haven't moved the main base since we... ahh... since we... left," Major Harq said as he looked at the faces of his comrades seated at the conference table before turning his attention to General Ragorsh. "If this is true then that base would make a perfect target for our revenge."
"Can you believe the stupidity of those idiots?" Colonel Morales questioned as he shook his head in disbelief. "They attack our base while remaining in a location where we can easily extract vengeance for the damage. They really don't think ahead, do they?"
"Something's not right about this," Major Cole declared so firmly that everyone turned to him.
"What do you mean?" Ragorsh inquired.
"Think about it," Cole explained. "Mothma and Rieekan might not have seen what needed to be done, but they weren't, aren't, stupid. They wouldn't make a major mistake like this, they never have before."
"That is a matter of opinion," Harq replied.
"They've made judgment errors, and have been reluctant to act, but they haven't ever been so stupid where security is concerned," Cole countered. "It is downright obvious to anyone with even half a brain that they are a sitting target."
"True," Ragorsh was forced to agree before he dismissed the idea. "But it is none of our concern now. We must strike before they do realize their error and move the base elsewhere. Besides, who knows what those Imperial Operatives are planning to do now? After all, they did attack us and that was an extremely stupid move as they can't afford to fight both us and the Empire."
"So what do we do now?" Morales inquired as the room fell silent. "Attack Mothma or the Imperial base we planned to hit?"
"We can't hit our intended Imperial target anymore," Harq informed them before the General could reply. "Our opportunity window will have past by the time the supplies get here. If we go after the Imperials we would need to find another target and gather information on it first."
"We will hit Mothma first before she has a chance to move," Ragorsh declared as he looked at the men seated at the table, looking for anyone who disapproved of this, but found none. "In the meantime we can begin looking for other Imperial targets and gather the necessary Intel on them."
"How long before we can hit Mothma?" Cole asked.
"The supplies from the latest raid should be here in two days," Harq responded. "During that time we can ready ourselves so that when the supplies get here, less will need to be done. My guess would be that we should be ready by the end of the week."
Darth Vader visibly flinched when he lifted his head to gaze to his Majesty's face on the holoprojector.
"Heh." Wheezed the old man. "Do I really look that bad?"
"No, your Majesty." Prince Vader smoothly replied.
"You're lying." The Emperor bluntly replied. "No matter, no matter..." He trailed off briefly. "You have news?"
"Yes, your Majesty. The Rebels have begun fighting each other as planned. But one side seems to have found a way around a two-front war. They informed us of all the locations of the other side's bases that they knew."
A wide smile grew across the wrinkled skull of a face. "They betrayed them to us? How ironic. Hunt them down, my son. Hunt them down."
"Of course, Father." The Imperial Prince paused, then started up again, "perhaps Luke should..."
"No. I want you to do it. Luke can stay here for awhile."
"Yes, Sire."
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? E-mail Rebecca or me at valeriev84@hotmail.com
