Star Wars: Tales from the Dark Side - Old Wounds

OLD WOUNDS

Adapted from the comic by Aaron McBride

  He knew something was wrong when he had opened his eyes.

He should not have been able to do that. He should have been dead.

Why wasn’t he dead?

He couldn’t feel anything. The pain was so agonizing that his mind could not register it as being real. Whatever fluid he was floating in was not bacta; or, if it was, then it was not doing anything to heal whatever wounds he had suffered. It certainly wasn’t going to regenerate his legs.

His legs. What had happened to his legs?

He tried to reach back in his mind. He remembered a man. A young man, human, with brown hair tied up in a braid. He had surprised him, jumping up and drawing the green blade from the weapon of his fallen comrade. He had sliced at his waist and then… there. That was where the pain had started.

He had fallen into the pit. His legs separated from the rest of his body as he tumbled into the abyss. Then… nothing.

That had been it. That had been the end.

Then why was he still here? Why was he still alive?

Through the bubbling red water, through the glass of the cylinder he was floating in, he could see movement. A giant stood in front of him, at least two meters tall, the crest of their helmet nearly scraping the ceiling. In the titan’s hand was an equally massive axe, nearly the length of its owner. All he could make out of their visage was a pair of red glowing eyes.

But the giant was not alone. Another figure stood between the colossus and the vat. They were cloaked in a simple black robe, a hood raised to conceal most of their face. But even the little glimpse he had of the old man’s pale face was enough for him to identify who they were.

His master. Darth Sidious.

And just like that, Darth Maul finally remembered his name.

His arm jolted up as if it had a mind of its own and his red palm pressed against the glass. The man on the other side did not so much as flinch, regarding his apprentice with an expression impossible to decipher.

The Dark Lord withdrew a crooked hand from the sleeves of his robes and made a single gesture. 

The next thing Maul knew, he was out of the vat, out of the water, and laying on some sort of table, screaming in pain. Machines surrounded him as they opened him up, cut him open, sewed him back up. 

He had no idea what they were doing, nor did he care. He wanted to destroy them. But he couldn’t. Something was preventing him from using his powers. It was as if the dark side refused to answer his call.

Eventually, the pain subsided, almost abruptly. It did not completely go away, of course, but enough so that he was able to take in his surroundings and feel his body. He could feel his legs again, albeit barely. He looked down and saw a pair of unfamiliar metal appendages in the spot where his legs had once been. They terminated in a set of clawed feet, which curled and uncurled at his mind’s command.

He then lifted his head up to see his master standing over him. It took him a moment to realize that the Dark Lord was, in fact, not physically there, but instead transmitting from a mobile holoprojector droid, his blue-tinted figure shimmering with every movement.

“Master,” Darth Maul croaked, his voice weak from disuse. “Where… where am I?”

Darth Sidious stared down at him in silence, his lips pressed into a thin line. When he spoke, his words were not directed to Maul but to the giant looming in the background. “I must admit that I am impressed by your handiwork. I did not expect the results to be so successful.”

“You may express your gratitude in the form of the agreed upon payment, my lord,” the giant growled in response.

“The funds have already been transferred to the appropriate accounts,” Sidious said. “Have you disposed of the other specimen like I asked?”

“It has, Lord Sidious.”

“Good.” Sidious looked back down at Maul. “I still have use for you, my friend. Although you may have failed me on Naboo, your continued existence has proved to me that the immortality the Sith have sought for so long is indeed possible… to a certain extent, of course.”

“Master.” Maul grimaced as he struggled to sit up but could not muster the energy to do so. “Please, give me another chance.”

“You have already been given another chance,” Sidious said coldly. “Otherwise, you would not be speaking to me now. However….” The Dark Lord paused and Maul dreaded to hear the words that came next. “You shall no longer be my apprentice. I have already found another to serve as my Shadow Hand.”

“Master, please!” The fear and anger now running through him jolted Maul up and he swung his mechanical legs over the operating table. “I can still serve you!”

“And you will. There is still much work to be done; work that I and Lord Tyranus alone cannot handle. You will serve as my secret assassin, eliminating targets that are too public for myself to eliminate through my usual methods. You have already proven yourself capable of that, given how you have eliminated the leadership of Black Sun. In fact, they have been seeing a resurgence of late, so perhaps it would be worth checking in on them….”

Maul bared his teeth, glowering at the hologram in front of him. “Is that all I am to you? Just some tool for you to use as you please?”

“That is all you have ever been to me,” Sidious said icily.

“I am your apprentice! You named me a Lord of the Sith!”

“That was before Naboo. I have since found better alternatives.”

Maul got down from the table and stood up to his full height. Rage coursed through his veins and he could feel the dark side finally answering to his summons. “I will no longer be your slave.”

Even from across the galaxy, he could sense the Dark Lord’s building ire through the Force. “If you wish to prolong your existence, you will do my bidding.”

“No.” Raising a clawed foot, Maul brought it down on the holoprojector and smashed it into pieces. The Dark Lord’s image dissolved into oblivion and Maul was left standing there in the darkness, illuminated only by the glow of the giant’s red eyes.

For a long time, the two of them simply stood there, staring at each other in silence. A silence that was broken by the grating voice of the giant.

“If you wish to leave here,” the titan said, “I can arrange for transportation. I will even provide you with the means to defend yourself. I ask for only two things in return.”

Maul narrowed his eyes, wondering if he should simply crush the giant’s throat with the Force. Instead, he said, “Name your price.”

The giant did. After taking a moment to get over his stupor from the strange request, Maul agreed.

A double-necked eight-string quetarra and an alias were an odd payment for a starship and a reconstructed lightsaber, but it was a deal worth making nonetheless.

*  *  *

Years passed. A decade, even. And throughout all those ten years, Maul had only one thing on his mind.

Revenge.

In his dreams, it was the Jedi’s face that he saw, the last thing he had seen before he had tumbled to what should have been his demise. It was a face that haunted him, and the only way to be rid of it was to find the Jedi and kill him. Only then would he finally be free.

It took him many years to finally put a name to the face: Obi-Wan Kenobi. It took him even longer to even find so much of a trace of him.

It was a big galaxy, and the Jedi Order was spread from its quaint temple on Coruscant all the way to the furthest fringes of the Outer Rim. It did not help that he had to keep a low profile, lest Sidious and his new apprentice catch wind of his activities and bring them and his second lease on life to a premature end.

Ten years after his rebirth, he had finally found a trace. An anonymous source had tipped him off to the remote world of Kamino, a planet located on the edge of the galaxy which Kenobi had gone to for reasons Maul did not know or care for. But when he got to the missing planet, the long-necked natives told him that Kenobi had already left two days prior. He would have killed them then and there had one of them not offered up the name of a planet where Kenobi could have possibly gone to: Geonosis.

He had wasted no time in making his way to Geonosis. But when he made it there, not only did he learn that Kenobi had already left the planet… but that the galaxy was now at war.

This was it, he realized. The culmination of the Grand Plan that the Sith had been working towards for nearly a millennium. Sidious and his agents would now be more alert than ever, and he would need to work even harder to keep a low profile to evade the Dark Lord’s omniscient gaze.

He did not have to hide for long however, as the Clone War ended up producing a useful distraction: Himself.

He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but another Zabrak identical to him in both appearance and name had came from out of nowhere, building an alliance between the criminal syndicates of the galaxy—including Black Sun—and using it to take over the planet of Mandalore. Sidious would no doubt believe this Maul to be the same one that had defied him a decade ago, giving the other the opportunity he needed in order to make his own preparations.

He would not be able to face the Dark Lord alone. He needed others to answer him and carry out deeds that he himself could not perform without rousing the attention of either Sidious or his clone. Fortunately, it did not take him long to find them.

Their names were Fomadu and Mei. Both survivors of dark side cults that had lost its members at the hands of the Jedi during the war. Like him, they sought revenge against the Jedi. And, like him, the girl Mei carried a burning hatred for one Jedi in particular—the same Jedi who continued to elude him as the war saw the Jedi Order scattered across the galaxy even more so now than they had been a decade prior.

It was the promise of revenge that Maul had been able to bring Fomadu and Mei, and others, to his cause. That, and the philosophy he had developed over the past decade, after he had made the decision to turn his back on the Sith once and for all.

There was no dark or light. There was no Force. There was only the Great Void. The all-consuming Darkness that bore them and would one day end them. No living being ever chose to be born in this life, and they only ever suffered before returning to the welcoming Void from whence they had came. There was no point to any of it; nothing, that is, but their own personal desires. If there was no Force to serve, then they could only serve themselves until they perished as all living things did.

Maul supposed it was ironic that he had reached this conclusion only after being pulled back from the Void to live once more. But such was the way of the Dark.

The war came and went. Then, the Jedi Order fell. He picked up the trace again, traveling to Utapau, then Mustafar, then Polis Massa, then Nar Shaddaa. He lost Fomadu and Mei, then the others shortly after. It was just him now, just as it had been in the beginning.

The Sith had finally won. The galaxy was in the hands of the Dark Lord. There would be no escaping his former master now. But he didn’t care anymore. All he wanted was Kenobi. Then, he could finally be free.

It only took another three years. But finally, he had found him.

*  *  *

The sand crunched beneath his clawed feet as he ran. The simple homestead laid dead ahead. There, he would find his quarry.

There were three of them. A man, a woman, and a child. The man had a blaster rifle in his hands, pointed in the intruder’s direction as he delivered a series of futile warnings. Maul could sense the man’s fear, which only further fueled his mechanical legs as he hastened his pace. The man pulled the trigger and Maul deftly avoided the blast before summoning the rifle to his hands and swinging it at the man’s skull. There was a sickening crack and the man fell into the sands.

The woman let out a cry and held the boy close to her chest as Maul turned to face them. He gazed at the child, peering into his scared blue eyes as he reached out with the Force.

And there it was. Just as the logs from the medical center on Polis Massa had indicated.

“So it’s true,” he murmured. “There is a son.”

And just like that, he felt it. He turned away from the weeping woman and crying child, scanning the Dune Sea for what he had sensed. Or rather, whom.

“A heart just quickened. I know you’re here.”

Silence. The only sounds he could hear were the pained coughs of the man and the sounds of despair coming from the woman and child. He ignored them all as he focused on the presence he had sensed.

“I missed you on Kamino by two days,” he continued. “I was a day behind you on Geonosis. I came across a corpse on Mustafar I thought might’ve been you. Imagine my relief.”

Still the silence stood, although he detected another prick in the other’s heartbeat. He must have touched another nerve. A satisfied smirk twitched onto his face, knowing that his next words would only further draw the Jedi’s ire.

“Those mute runts on Polis Massa were the least satisfying lives I’ve ever taken. But their medical log was worthwhile. An old junk dealer in Mos Espa choked up a name before I separated him from his greed. I knew if I found the boy… you’d come.”

This, finally, got a response from the Jedi. His voice seemed to carry through the wind, coming from all directions. “Does Palpatine know?”

“No,” Maul snarled. “There is no Palpatine. No Empire. No Jedi. There is no light. No dark. Just you and I, here, now!”

“We can do this for old time’s sake,” the voice continued. “But I was a Padawan then. Now…”

Beneath Maul’s feet, the ground trembled and a hand erupted from the sand, followed by the hunched form of a man. The same man Maul had seen in his dreams for sixteen years now. His once youthful face was now tired and old, covered by a brown bear tinged with gray. But his blue-gray eyes had the same hardness in them that Maul remembered from all those years ago.

Those eyes met Maul’s as Obi-Wan Kenobi stared at him with the fiery defiance of a Jedi. “You won’t heal clean.”

Maul snarled as he doffed his black cloak, at the same time drawing his lightsaber and igniting its twin red blades. In response, Kenobi ignited the blue beam of his own lightsaber and raised it in a defensive stance as Maul lunged, the setting twin suns blazing behind him.

Kenobi had expected Maul to attack with his blade first, but instead the Zabrak seized his neck with a clawed foot, using it as leverage to bring the Jedi closer to him.

“That day in Theed, I fell so far from what I was,” Maul growled into the other’s face. “When I came to rest, all I could see was you.”

He brought his scarlet blade close to Kenobi’s face, although the Jedi was able to bring his own between them. Sparks flew as the two beams of energy collided.

“But I rose from my ruin,” Maul pressed on, “to find myself greater… and all the days since have been to your end!”

With a grunt, Kenobi was able to wrest himself from out of Maul’s grasp. The Zabrak allowed him to do so; he wanted this moment to last. He wanted to savor the sweet taste of revenge. The past sixteen years of his life—ever waking hour of his renewed lease on life—had been leading to this moment.

After this, there would be nothing to await but the Great Void.

Kenobi swung his lightsaber and Maul blocked it with the lower blade of his double-edged weapon. This left the rest of him vulnerable however and Kenobi swung his leg up to kick him in the head, shattering large chunks from his elongated horns. As Maul staggered back to recover himself, Kenobi twirled his blade as he moved in to attack again, leaping up in the air with his blade raised high. Maul raised his double-edged sword, ready for him… and too late realized his mistake.

The blue saber cut through the hilt of his weapon… and through his left arm. The bisected weapon and severed limb fell to the ground.

So blinded had he been by his hatred that he had let his guard down and made the same mistake he had made sixteen years ago, that had seen his old weapon broken and himself sliced in half.

He would not repeat that moment. Not here. Not after so many years of waiting for this moment.

Crying out in rage, he thrust out his mechanical leg and kicked Kenobi in the abdomen. The Jedi went flying and crashed into the hood of a nearby landspeeder, weighing the repulsor-powered vehicle down. Maul then summoned one of the two pieces of his shattered weapon to his remaining hand, igniting its still-working blade as he stormed over to Kenobi.

But the Jedi was already back on his feet. And had the emitter of his lightsaber pressed against Maul’s skull.

Seconds crawled like hours. Maul could feel the emotions boiling within Kenobi as the Jedi’s thumb rested on the activation switch. And for the briefest of moments, Maul witnessed a flash of white-hot anger flare within the Jedi. He remembered that anger; it was the same anger that Kenobi had unleashed when Maul had killed his Jedi Master.

Just as Maul had clung onto his desire for revenge for sixteen years, Kenobi had clung onto the memory of him killing his master. The desire for revenge was mutual in that respect, even if the Jedi tried to hide it. In that sense, they were almost kindred spirits, sharing the same old wounds.

At that realization, Maul’s golden eyes went wide. He stared into Kenobi’s steely blue gaze, saw the restrained anger burning within them. Then, he closed his eyes, resigning himself to his fate.

So focused was he on his opponent that Maul did not see the man he had threatened earlier get back to his feet, pick up his discarded blaster, point it at the Zabrak’s head. He did not even hear the blaster go off before the Darkness enveloped him and he fell once more into the welcoming embrace of the Great Void.

Star Wars Destinies Retold: From the Ashes, Epilogue

EPILOGUE

  Jerec stepped onto the bridge of the Ravager, holding the Scepter of Ragnos tight in his hand. Behind him walked Sariss, while leading them onto the ship was the Sentinel that had guided them here. Through the Force, Jerec was able to take in his surroundings and assess every aspect of the present situation.

The bridge itself was more or less identical to a typical Super Star Destroyer, being wider and more expansive than that of a typical Imperial Star Destroyer. Standing at the far edge of the bridge, facing the viewport with his back turned to the arriving party, was a tall man clad in a white officer’s uniform, with polished black boots on his feet and a scarlet cape as red as blood flowing from his collar. His dark hair was slicked back, and when he turned to face the approaching Sentinel and Inquisitor, his pale face looked almost ghoulish. His dark eyes were almost black in color, and their somewhat sunken appearance almost made him look like a Givin if one were to squint.

As Jerec came to stand before him, the man smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that almost seemed to contrast with the rest of his appearance. “Welcome, High Inquisitor Jerec, to the Ravager. I am Fleet Admiral Gallius Rax, Counselor of the Empire.”

Jerec raised a hairless eyebrow. “Fleet Admiral, you say? You appear to be rather extravagantly dressed for a mere Fleet Admiral.”

Rax chuckled dryly. “I may have taken some liberties given my… additional duties.” He then gestured to the staff in Jerec’s hand. “Is that the Scepter?”

The High Inquisitor raised the artifact to show it to him but made sure to keep it out of the Fleet Admiral’s reach. Rax, for his part, did not reach out for it and instead smiled thinly as he nodded.

“Excellent. We may now proceed to our next objective. Operation: Cinder is currently underway; many worlds are already burning as we speak. Burnin Konn, Candovant, Mandalore… Unfortunately, we appear to have lost contact with our forces at Naboo, indicating a potential loss there. But that is a minor setback at worse. So long as the New Republic is distracted, we will be able to achieve our goals.”

Jerec frowned as he regarded Rax warily. “Is that all this is? A distraction?” He motioned to the Sentinel standing beside him. “Do these droids not speak the will of our Emperor?”

Rax was silent at first, his black eyes drifting back to the viewport, staring out into the depths of the Vulpinus Nebula. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost like a whisper. “Are you under the impression that they do not?”

Jerec gritted his teeth as he stepped closer to the Fleet Admiral, his grip on the Scepter tightening. “Do not try to deceive me, Admiral. My patience has its limits and you are dangerously close to reaching them.”

Rax’s shoulders shifted as he sighed. “The Emperor may be dead, High Inquisitor, but his will lives on through me. Before his untimely demise, he tasked me with initiating a contingency plan were he to fall without a proper successor in place. With Lord Vader gone and the Empire falling apart due to Pestage losing it to squabbling warlords, I was left with no choice but to initiate Operation: Cinder as part of the Contingency. The Sentinels were sent out to those I knew would obey His Imperial Majesty’s will without question… and even to those whose loyalty I knew were in question.” He nodded to the Scepter in Jerec’s hand. “The fact that you have completed the task given to you tells me that I was correct in my assessment of your loyalty.”

Don’t be so sure, Jerec thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “What do you need the Scepter for, then? As powerful as I sense the artifact may be, surely it is not capable of destroying worlds that have failed the Emperor.”

“It is not.” A chilling smile then crossed Rax’s thin lips. “But it may be our key to bringing back our Emperor.”

Jerec stared at the Fleet Admiral with incredulity as he picked up on what the other was implying. “You must be mad,” he murmured. “You speak of dark arts that have not been used since the time of the ancient Sith. Which you are not.”

Rax arched an eyebrow. “Are you not a Force-user, High Inquisitor?”

Jerec scowled. “Yes, but even I am not privy to every piece of knowledge that the Sith hold. The Emperor made sure of that.”

“Then it is fortunate that I have found someone who is.”

Jerec frowned as he suddenly became aware of the dark presence in the room. At first he had attributed it to the Scepter in his hands, radiating with the dark side, but now he realized it came from something else. Or rather, someone.

The dark figure stepped out of the shadows, moving almost like a wraith, the hem of their robes trailing across the deck. A hood fully concealed their features, calling to mind images of the Emperor himself. However, when Jerec managed to pierce through the veil with the Force to try and catch a glimpse of their face, he saw only a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at him. Their gaze seemed to cast away Jerec’s metaphorical vision and the Miraluka was left only with the image of their hunched, cloaked form.

Rax turned to face the dark figure and bowed his head. “High Inquisitor Jerec,” the Fleet Admiral said, “I would like you to meet Darth Vorath, Dark Lord of the Sith.”

Jerec frowned. “The Sith have been destroyed. The Emperor and Lord Vader were the last.”

“So it would seem,” Rax said. “But perhaps they weren’t. It is a big galaxy, after all.”

Jerec still had his doubts. He could not fathom any possibility of another Sith existing without the Emperor at least knowing about it. If this Darth Vorath truly was a Sith, then the Emperor must have known about him… and perhaps he had allowed for his continued existence for whatever purpose Rax had in mind for him.

It was either that or Rax was deceiving him, and Jerec had not yet ruled out that possibility.

Still, deception or not, Jerec could sense the power radiating from Darth Vorath. Perhaps this Dark Lord could be of use to him, even if he decided not to follow whatever Rax’s plan was. He would just have to wait and let things play out. Then, he would decide and make his move.

Rax looked between the two dark side users before turning to face the viewport again. “Captain,” he called out to a nearby bridge officer. “Set a course for the rendezvous point. We will meet up with Admiral Sloane and her forces there. Then, the final order shall be delivered, and we will proceed to Jakku.”

“Jakku?” Jerec asked, turning to Rax. “That is on the edge of the Unknown Regions. There is nothing of value there.”

Rax smiled thinly. “Correction, High Inquisitor: It is the place where the fate of the Empire—and the galaxy—shall be decided. And if all goes as planned… then it shall be where our Emperor will be reborn.

“And the New Republic… shall fall!”

TO BE CONTINUED

Star Wars Destinies Retold: From the Ashes, Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The storm had lifted and the skies of Naboo were clear, letting the sun shine down on the green plains. But the atmosphere in Theed was anything but sunny.

The battle had continued for a few hours after the destruction of the Torment and the weather satellites, but the Imperial forces that had landed in the city had quickly been overwhelmed by the combined efforts of the New Republic and the Naboo Resistance. It was almost strange how easy victory had been, especially considering reports were still rolling in of struggles at other worlds afflicted by Operation: Cinder. But for now, the fighting was over. It was now a time of rest and recovery.

And mourning.

The funeral procession for Queen Kylantha had been set for the end of the week, after cleanup efforts had concluded. A new Queen would then be elected, with the most prospective candidate being the current Princess of Theed Sosha Soruna. With Moff Panaka no longer in power, the Constitution of Naboo would be reverted back to its pre-Imperial text; Panaka’s rule had introduced indefinite term limits in order to keep Kylantha, the Empire’s reluctant puppet, in power and prevent anyone with more obvious Rebel sympathies from taking the throne. That was not to say Kylantha would not be well-remembered, of course; she had done everything she could in her limited power to ensure that the people of Naboo lived peacefully under the Empire’s reign, even when it became increasingly more hard to do so.

Of course, there was still the matter of Lady Greejatus to deal with, and she was sure to mobilize Imperial forces to make another grab for Naboo. But with the Empire as fractured as it was, it would take some time for her to gather the necessary support. And Admiral Nantz had already agreed to leave behind a task force to defend the planet in the event the Empire did strike back.

Until then, it was time to rest. But Leia strongly doubted she would be getting any rest any time soon.

She stood in the corner of the throne room of Theed Palace, the throne itself vacant. Seated in the chairs surrounding it were the various members of the Advisory Council, deep in discussion about how to proceed forward. Leia did not listen to any of it and instead stood with Luke and Pooja Naberrie, deep in their own conversation.

Leia didn’t remember how the discussion had led up to it, or what had prompted the question, but she started listening intently when Luke asked Pooja, “What do you know about Queen Amidala?”

Pooja seemed taken aback by the question. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity,” Luke said. He then glanced at Leia. “And because we have a question that needs answering.”

Pooja shifted her feet, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Well, there’s not much I can say that isn’t already in the history books. She had already stepped down as Queen when I was born.” She cleared her throat. “But one thing you won’t hear often is the fact that she was my aunt.”

Leia’s eyes went wide. “Your aunt?”

Pooja nodded. “Her birth name was Padme Amidala. Her sister Sola is my mother.” She smiled sadly. “I wish I could say I have many memories of her. I was only seven years old when she died. I never did learn how she died, and my mother never wanted to talk about it.”

“My condolences,” Luke said sincerely. “Do you… know if she had any children?”

Pooja thought for a moment. “No. I believe she was pregnant when she died, and her child was unfortunately lost as well. At least, that’s what I had always been told.”

“I see.” Luke appeared to be deep in thought, no doubt considering how far to press the matter. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before then asking, “I apologize in advance for all of these questions, but I do have one more thing to ask you.”

Pooja inclined her head. “Please. I will try to answer it best I can.”

“Did your aunt know a man by the name of Anakin Skywalker?”

A cloud fell over Pooja’s face, although Leia realized it was more from a struggle to remember than because of any dark thoughts. “Yes, actually,” she murmured. “It was a long time ago—I must’ve been only four—but I do recall staying at my grandparents when Aunt Padme visited us and she was with this tall man. I do believe his name was Anakin.” She shook her head. “Again, I was only a child, so my memory is foggy.”

“It’s all right,” Luke said gently. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Well, there was this astromech droid. White and blue, I think.”

This time, it was Luke’s eyes that went wide. “White and blue?”

Pooja nodded. “It used to be in service on the Queen’s Royal Starship, but I believe my aunt was permitted to keep it after she stepped down as a gift of gratitude for her service. It pretty much followed her everywhere around, but after the Clone Wars started I didn’t see it as often.” She thought for another moment. “She might’ve even given it to Anakin, now that I think about it…”

Luke exchanged a glance with Leia. She knew what he was thinking, but there was no way it could be true. There had to be hundreds of white and blue astromech droids in the galaxy, if not thousands. Pooja hadn’t even specified whether it was actually an R2-unit as opposed to an R5 or anything else.

But that wasn’t going to stop him. “Pardon me,” Luke said, “but there’s someone we need to talk to. We’ll be back.”

“Of course,” Pooja said, but Luke was already leaving and Leia had to hurry to follow him, stopping only to give Pooja an apologetic look.

She followed Luke through the palace, unsure of where they were going until they reached the hangars. There, the Naboo pilots had gathered with the pilots that had been brought by the New Republic fleet, taking a rest as they recuperated from the hectic battle in the skies and prepared for recovery efforts. Luke scanned the crowd before making a straight line for one pilot in particular, next to whom was R2-D2. The pilot himself was not anyone Leia recognized, being a young human male no older than eighteen. Upon seeing Luke’s approach, the boy’s eyes went wide and he stood up to greet the Jedi Knight.

“Master Skywalker! You’re all right!”

Luke smiled. “That I am, Toah.” He gestured to Leia. “Leia, I would like you to meet Toah Jarsan. He helped me back on Dantooine.”

Leia offered Toah a polite smile as she extended her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Toah merely gawked at her in awe as he shook her hand. At this point, Leia was used to such stunned reactions, especially from people as young as Toah.

R2-D2 expressed his excitement as well, warbling as he hobbled on his wheels towards Luke, who smiled as he patted the astromech’s dome. “It’s good to see you as well, Artoo. Been keeping Toah here safe?” The astromech blurted a beep and Luke chuckled. “Glad to hear it. Anyway, there’s something Leia and I need to talk to you about.”

R2 whirred warily as he lowered his middle appendage, ready to follow him. After pardoning themselves to Toah, Luke and Leia led the astromech out of the hangar and kept walking until they reached a small private alcove, just out of sight of the hangar bay. Luke then got down onto one knee and looked into R2’s photoreceptor.

“Artoo,” Luke said carefully, “when was the last time you had your memory wiped?”

R2 hesitated before responding in a low tone.

“How long is a long time ago?”

Another bout of silence before another hesitant beep.

Luke took a deep breath. “So you would remember the last twenty, thirty years, correct? Do you have any recollections of Naboo?”

Leia watched as R2 swiveled his dome slowly, looking uncomfortable under Luke’s gaze. His quiet whir indicated an affirmative answer.

“Do you remember a woman by the name of Padme Amidala?” When R2 started to shake slightly, Luke put a hand to his dome. “Please, Artoo. This is important. I need to know—we need to know the truth.”

Leia bit her lip as she looked down at R2. The astromech had been in the service of her family for many years; she had probably known him longer than Luke had. All that time, apparently, he had been keeping secrets from her; no doubt kept for the sake of her own safety. She imagined it violated some sort of inner programming for such a dutiful droid to be deceitful in anyway to their owner, which was the dilemma that R2 was now being faced with. But R2-D2 was more than just a droid that she and Luke “owned.” He was a companion. A friend. And right now, he needed to be treated as such.

Kneeling beside her brother, Leia smiled encouragingly at R2. “It’s okay, Artoo. We both understand that any secrets you’ve kept from us was for our own good. But we both know who our father—our real father—was and what he had become. It is all in the past now. He and the Emperor can’t threaten us anymore.”

“Please,” Luke said. “Show her to us. Show us our real mother.”

For the longest time, R2-D2 simply stood there, completely still. Then, he angled his holoprojector and the twins both stood up and stepped back as the astromech projected a tiny blue image in front of them.

The woman was absolutely beautiful, almost angelic in appearance. And she looked identical to the woman whose clone they had encountered back on Chommell Minor. She wore a elegant indigo dress and her hair was done up in a complicated fashion. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at the recipient of her message.

“Hi, Ani,” Padme said sweetly. “I’ve recorded this message for Artoo to play for you. I know it’s going to be a while before we’ll be able to see each other again, so I want to make sure you have a reminder that I will always be with you, no matter where in the galaxy you are.”

Leia and Luke simply stared down with mouths agape as they stared down at the hologram, laying eyes on their mother—their real mother—for the first time in their lives. The hologram changed, cycling through different scenes; showing Padme in a bridal gown as she held hands with a tall man who bore a striking resemblance to Luke, albeit with shorter hair and a braid hanging down their shoulder; showing her dancing with the man in a peaceful Naboo courtyard; showing them huddled together intimately in a beautiful garden.

Then, the scope of the hologram widened, and they saw their mother laying on some sort of medical berth, surrounded by midwife droids, the swelling of her belly indicating that she was pregnant. Watching her were two other men—one whom Leia recognized as her adoptive father, Bail Organa, the other resembling a young Obi-Wan Kenobi. Joining them was a small green creature in Jedi robes, resting on a walking stick with a grave expression on his face.

One of the medical droids was hovering in front of them, speaking. “Medically, she’s completely healthy. For reasons we cannot explain, we’re losing her.”

“She’s dying?” Obi-Wan asked, perplexed.

“We don’t know why,” the droid solemnly responded. “She’s lost the will to live.”

Leia suddenly found herself overwhelmed with emotion, unable to bear what she was seeing or hearing. Swallowing hard, her throat dry, she managed to croak out, “Shut it off, Artoo.”

“No.” Luke shook his head as he crouched down, looking almost mesmerized by the hologram. “I need to see this. We need to see this, Leia.”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t need to see… this.”

Luke looked up at her and frowned. “She’s our mother, Leia.”

Holding back tears, Leia looked back down at the sorrowful scene before shutting her eyes, hoping to banish the image from her mind. 

“This is not how I want to remember her.”

For a moment, Luke said nothing. Then, when their mother began to cry out in agony, he said to R2, “That’s enough for now.”

The astromech dutifully obliged him and he stood up to his full height, walking over to Leia and putting his hands on either of her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “She is one with the Force now.”

Leia could say nothing. Instead, she let the tears run freely from her eyes and sobbed as she threw herself into her brother’s arms.

For a long time, the two of them simply stood there, holding each other as they let the silence speak for them.

* * *

Days passed. The night had ended with the funeral procession for the late Queen Kylantha. The recovery efforts had concluded and Admiral Nantz was taking most of his fleet to the Anoat sector to aid Burnin Konn, joined by Lando and his Commandos. A task force had been left behind as promised, and Luke was confident that Naboo was in good hands.

There was just one loose end he still needed to tie up.

Toah was waiting in the Theed Hangar, standing by a New Republic shuttle set to take him wherever he wished, whether that be Dantooine or somewhere else. Even as he approached, Luke could sense his conflict, and when the younger man turned to look at him, he seemed somewhat saddened by the sight of Luke in his orange flightsuit, indicating that he was ready to leave as well and that this would be where they were likely to part ways.

“I take it this is goodbye, then?” Toah asked.

“Well, that depends,” Luke replied. “I was thinking about heading back to Dantooine, although it would probably have to wait until after the Provisional Council’s talks with the Pentastar Alignment. I hear that Ambassador Madurrin is going to serve as mediator.”

Toah nodded. “She’s already aboard. I would be happy to go with you to Dantooine, but… there’s not much else for me there.”

“I hear you fared well in the battle, even with Artoo’s help,” Luke pointed out. “I think if Nien and Lando put in a good word for you, they could get you in for flight training.”

Toah smiled at that. “That would be great. What about you?”

Luke shrugged. “Dantooine might be off limits, but there still might be other traces of the Jedi Order somewhere out there. I just need to find them.”

“I hope you do. The galaxy needs the Jedi. As great as you are, you cannot carry the burden all on your own.”

Luke nodded in agreement, his thoughts going back to Leia. She had handled herself quite well with a lightsaber, and as far as he knew she had kept the weapon taken from Tarr-Nar-Mal. Perhaps after the Empire  had been quelled and things were less chaotic, he would be able to start training her, and begin properly rebuilding the Jedi Order.

Until then, however… he just needed to be patient. The time would come, and soon, the Jedi would be reborn.

And as he looked at Toah, Luke realized that he would not need to look far for prospective students.

Smiling to the younger man, Luke said, “May the Force be with you, Toah Jarsan. Hopefully our paths will cross again.”

And I believe they will, he added silently to himself. Very, very soon.

*  *  *

It had been nearly three days since the Battle of Naboo had ended, and Han was ready to leave.

It wasn’t that Naboo was a bad place to visit—quite the opposite in fact. And he wasn’t exactly eager to get back to the Fleet and have to hear about the bad things still unfolding in the rest of the galaxy as the Empire continued its campaign against various, almost randomly selected worlds. But at the same time, he didn’t feel like he belonged here. Everyone besides the guards and resistance fighters were dressed in fancy clothes, and even the resistance leader had gone back to wearing opal dresses as opposed to the tactical gear she had been wearing. He felt underdressed and out of place, and he never felt comfortable or safe when he felt out of place, even when he was supposedly among allies.

So when Leia stepped onto the Millennium Falcon after having bid farewell to Pooja and the leaders of Naboo, he was more excited than he had ever been in the past few months.

“All right,” he said jovially to her, putting on his best grin as he greeted her at the landing ramp. “The Falcon’s all prepped and ready to go. You have the coordinates to the rendezvous point?”

“Han,” Leia said quietly, “I need to tell you something.”

For the first time, Han noticed the strange expression on her face and his grin melted into a frown. He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

She slowly reached up to remove his hands from her shoulders in order to hold them in hers. She looked up at him and her brown eyes were red and watery. “We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”

Han stared at her, studying her face carefully. “Yeah, we have.”

“Five years ago, we were at each other’s throats, always making snide jabs and sarcastic remarks towards each other. Now look where we are now.”

“Yeah, pretty crazy to think.” He then narrowed his eyes. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No.” Leia smiled, and it took him aback slightly. It was perhaps the happiest smile he had ever seen on her face. “Quite the opposite in fact. I wouldn’t give it up for the galaxy.”

“Uh huh.” Han nodded slowly, still skeptical. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“Well, I was a bit sick this morning. But then I got some news that has me really excited and scared.” She squeezed his hands. “Our lives are going to change forever.”

Han sucked in his breath, suddenly realizing where this was going. “Leia… are you…?”

She took his hand and rested it on her stomach.

“Han,” she said softly, “I’m pregnant.”

And just like that, the whole galaxy seemed to spin away from him.

Star Wars Destinies Retold: From the Ashes, Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Toah sat once more in the cockpit of Luke Skywalker’s X-wing starfighter, having since donned a flight suit and now wearing a helmet that actually fit. His black gloves were wrapped tightly around the control yokes, although R2-D2 was doing most of the heavy-work in terms of flying, guiding him towards one of the many climate disruption arrays that the Empire had deployed in Naboo’s orbit. Flanking him on either side were the other members of Danger Flight One, with Nien Nunb flying in another X-wing to his left. Around them, a battle was unfolding between New Republic and Imperial forces alike, with fighters brought by Admiral Nantz’s fleet engaging the TIE fighters defending the satellites. Enough of the TIEs were distracted that Danger Flight was able to move in on one of them.

“Satellite One is coming in range,” the leader of Flight One transmitted to the rest of the pilots. “As soon as you’ve locked on, fire your proton torpedoes.”

R2 trilled and Toah saw his words translated on a small screen on his console, giving him directions on how to fire the proton torpedoes. Toah took a deep breath and watched his targeting computer. The satellite was highlighted in red, and the lines of the screen were closing in to create a box around the target. 

As soon as the red became green, he pressed his thumbs down on his control stick. A pair of glowing rockets launched out from the X-wing and shot towards the satellite. The other X-wings launched their torpedoes at the same time and the satellite erupted into a fireball. Toah felt the X-wing lurch as R2 redirected the fighter away from the explosion, following the rest of the flight.

“It’s a hit!” exclaimed one of the other pilots.

“Cut that chatter,” snapped Flight Leader. “We’ve still got six more to go. Looks like there are still TIEs around the next one. Be ready to engage.”

Toah swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry and tight. R2 offered a few words of encouragement via his screen and the X-wings pressed ahead to their next target.

“Danger Nine, stick with Danger Five,” Flight Leader then said. “We’ll divert the TIEs away from you best we can. Your proton torpedoes should be able to weaken the satellite enough for us to finish it off when we double back around.”

Nien responded affirmatively in his native tongue. As the X-wings advanced towards the next satellite, the TIE fighters guarding it broke away and rushed up to meet them, firing their green lasers. Flight Leader and three of the others immediately broke off and flew away, and managed to get most of the TIEs to follow them. Three of them lingered behind however, catching onto the ploy and focusing their attention on Toah and Nien’s fighters.

Toah gritted his teeth as R2 performed evasive maneuvers. He pressed down on the control stick to fire the fighter’s cannons, managing to hit one of the TIEs but succeeding only in weakening its shields. The Imperial fighter shot over him and doubled back around before unleashing its next flurry of laser fire.

Although he could not hear the astromech, Toah could imagine R2 shrieking in alarm as one of the lasers struck the X-wing near its fuselage. While R2 worked on fixing the damage, Toah realized that the astromech was now distracted from flying the ship at the same time, leaving him as a sitting duck. His mind racing, Toah jerked the control yoke hard to the right, bringing the X-wing into a wide arc as it began to loop around the TIE fighter. The Imperial fighter reflexively performed the same maneuver, following him as it tried to line up another shot.

By bringing the TIE into the open with such a wide arc, it allowed Nien to break off from the other two TIEs and target the one following Toah. A few blasts from the Sullustan’s fighter burned through the TIE’s remaining shields and the fighter erupted into a fireball. Completing his arc, Toah found himself behind one of the two remaining Imperial fighters. Locking on, he fired his blaster cannons and the TIE pilot joined their comrade. The third and last TIE fighter joined them shortly after when Nien rejoined Toah and blasted them away.

Flying alongside Toah once more as they headed back for the satellite, Nien said something to him in Sullustese. Toah still had no idea what he was saying, but it sounded encouraging. “Thanks,” he said, smiling weakly.

Nien simply chuckled back. Within minutes, the second satellite was within range and their proton torpedoes fired away, damaging the satellite enough that they were able to finish it off with their cannon fire.

“Nice work,” Flight Leader spoke into their ears. “We’re already on to the next one. Meet us there and keep an eye out for any more fighters.”

Both Toah and Nien acknowledged him as they proceeded to the next satellite. Feeling a bit more confident, Toah gripped the control yokes tightly and braced himself as they went forth into the fray.

*  *  *

Red clashed against green as Luke parried Rarnok’s attack. The Zabrak stepped back and twirled his blade as he smiled wickedly at the Jedi Knight.

“You’re holding back, Skywalker. I can tell. Surely someone strong enough to defeat the Emperor can handle a mere Inquisitor such as myself.”

Luke stared at him hard as he held his lightsaber in a defensive stance. “I was not the one who killed the Emperor. It was Anakin Skywalker, my father.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Rarnok echoed. “The Hero With No Fear. You know, the Naboo remember him as a hero. Were you aware of that?”

Luke tried to hide his curiosity but his face must have betrayed it anyway as Rarnok grinned.

“Oh, yes. Nearly forty years ago, a young boy from Tatooine unwittingly joined the Naboo fighters in the sky above and destroyed the Trade Federation’s Droid Control Ship, effectively ending their invasion. It was on that day that the Naboo and the Gungans finally made peace after so many years of strife.” Rarnok sighed wistfully. “Of course, such feats were overshadowed by the Clone Wars and dark times that followed. I can’t say I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.”

Luke said nothing, keeping an eye on Rarnok as he circled the Zabrak. Leia stayed close behind him, holding the blue lightsaber taken from Tarr-Nar-Mal. He could sense her uncertainty, knowing she was nowhere near as experienced with a lightsaber as he was. He tried to send her encouraging thoughts via their connection through the Force, but he wasn’t sure if she received them, focused as they were on the Inquisitor.

“Still,” Rarnok went on, “to go up against two Sith Lords and live to tell the tale… I feel that there are few in the galaxy who can make that claim. Was it not you that also defeated Lord Shadowspawn on Mindor?”

Luke glared at the Zabrak. “Are we here to talk about my accomplishments, or are we going to fight?”

“Eager, are we?” Rarnok lunged and Luke barely managed to deflect his strike in time. Leia then moved in and swung her saber, a bit too slow, and the Inquisitor easily blocked it. He then extended his hand and pushed her back with the Force before moving in to attack Luke again. Their blades clashed, swung, and clashed again, before Rarnok broke off again, cackling as he spun his blade and moved it from one hand to the other.

“How long are we going to keep at this, Skywalker? We both know that you and your sister are strong enough in the Force to vanquish me with a single thought. Even I, a mere Inquisitor, am no match for you. So why drag this out? Strike me down now so you can save your Queen.”

“That’s not the Jedi way,” Luke said evenly.

Rarnok sighed, hanging his head. “It’s not, is it? Of course it isn’t. Otherwise, your Order would never have fallen.”

He attacked again. This time, Leia moved in to intercept him and his scarlet blade clashed against her blue one. Luke then ducked and swiped at the Inquisitor’s side with his green blade, scorching Rarnok’s armor and causing the Zabrak to stagger back, wincing in pain.

“Now that is more like it!” Rarnok grabbed his side and bared his teeth as he grinned at Leia. “I can feel your anger. Your ferocity. Your brother holds back due to his Jedi training, but you… you haven’t been trained, have you? Not properly. You cannot bottle your emotions like he can.”

“Don’t listen to him, Leia,” Luke said, keeping his eyes on the Inquisitor. “He’s trying to tempt you, like he did on Chommell Minor. Don’t let him get into your head.”

Rarnok ignored him, his yellow eyes blazing into Leia’s brown ones. “I can sense the conflict. You love your brother, yet you hate your family. Your true family. You hate the man that your father turned out to be.”

Leia breathed heavily, her lips forming a thin line. She kept the blue blade of her lightsaber raised, mimicking Luke’s own defensive stance. Still, Luke could sense the emotion raging within her, creating a tempest that was impossible to break through with his own positive thoughts.

“You fear that the darkness of Lord Vader will corrupt you,” Rarnok went on. “As well as any children you bear. Speaking of which….” The Zabrak’s eyes seemed to glaze over before closing. His lips peeled back as his grin broadened. “Ah, yes. There it is.”

“There is what?” Leia asked, frowning.

The Inquisitor said nothing at first. Instead, much to Luke’s surprise, he shut off his lightsaber and placed it back on his belt, before opening his yellow eyes. “I believe enough time has been spent. By now, your rebel friends will have found their Queen. The damage has already been done. What happens to Naboo now is, ultimately, in the hands of the Force.”

He performed a mock bow before catapulting himself over Luke and Leia, moving too fast for them to follow. He then let the Force carry him as he dashed to the other end of the hangar bay, jumping off the edge and plunging into the storms raging outside.

Luke and Leia stared after him for a moment, both wondering whether the Zabrak had just ended his own life or whether he had found some way to survive the jump. Before either could reach a conclusion, Leia’s comm buzzed and she answered it.

“Yes?”

“Leia, we have a problem,” Pooja responded. “The Queen… we’ve reached the throne room and….”

Luke could feel his heart sink as Leia frowned. “What is it, Pooja? Talk to me.”

“She’s dead. Someone’s killed her.”

Leia exchanged a grim look with Luke. “We’ll be right there.”

*  *  *

“This isn’t worth our pay, Bane.”

Cad Bane scowled as he navigated the Justifier through the raging storms. They had begun to lessen somewhat since the Snatchers’ arrival, but that didn’t make their pursuit of the Millennium Falcon any easier. Especially now that some of the Naboo starfighters had come in to help it.

“The Jedi’s probably back at the hangar,” Bane growled into his comm. “One of you should have doubled back and flew in to get him.”

“I ain’t going back there,” said Kale Karsa. “The whole place is probably crawlin’ with Naboo guards by now. Besides, if Solo sees us go back in, he’s probably gonna swoop in and—”

Bane cut him off as he switched channels. “Smarty, you’re supposed to be the brains. Give me a rundown of our odds.”

“Given how volatile our current situation is, I cannot provide you with a solid answer,” replied the Siniteen partner of Dem Hazon. “As it stands now, the best rough estimate I can give you does not give a high probability of all of us making it out alive if we continue our current trajectory.”

“Frag that.” Bane glanced out the viewport to see Karsa’s ship breaking off from the chase. “You guys can stay if you want. I don’t even want the credits anymore.”

“Karsa, get back here you kriffing coward!” Bane snarled.

“Sorry, Bane, but the kid’s got the right idea.” Dengar’s JumpMaster was also leaving the pursuit. “Much as I hate Solo, this just isn’t the ideal situation to be in. The Empire’s pretty much got us all marked for dead with what it’s doing right now.”

Bane narrowed his eyes even as more of the Snatchers reported in to announce their withdrawal. As much as he hated to leave a job unfinished, he had to agree with their assessments. Between the storms and the battle being waged up in space, the entire operation had expanded well beyond their scope. Even if they did manage to track down Skywalker, they would still have to contend with the Naboo and the New Republic. And that just simply wasn’t in their pay grade.

Boss Dan’wal was going to be upset, of course. But Bane would rather upset him than lose his hide.

“Fine,” he groused. “Everyone, fall back. The hunt has been called off. We’ll get them next time.”

Bane heard no objections as the Snatchers’ ship pulled back and headed back up into the sky, climbing through the thick clouds as they made their way through the atmosphere and into space. Within moments, each one had jumped into hyperspace, leaving Naboo and its devastating storms behind.

*  *  *

The Torment shuddered violently and Moff Panaka fell to the floor, the Sentinel having lost its grip around its neck due to the quake. He looked up in time to see Y-wing bombers streak across the viewport, dropping their payload on the Star Destroyer.

“Sir, we just lost one of our bridge deflector shields!” an officer called from the crew pit.

Captain Duvat grimaced, his eyes still intent on the action unfolding outside. “How many satellites do we still have in place?”

“We’ve just lost a third one, sir. Only four more remaining.”

“Focus fire on those starfighters. Redirect all TIE squadrons to—”

The ship shuddered again as the Y-wings went in for another pass. Two of them were shot down by the Torment’s turbolasers, although that did not make the impact of their bombs any less intense.

“Our other deflector shield has nearly lost all integrity,” the same officer reported. “Our shields are hanging on by a fingernail at this point.”

The Torment trembled once more, this time from firepower coming from the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser that had come up along its side. Panaka recognized it as the Restoration, flagship of the New Republic admiral Firmus Nantz.

Duvat squared his shoulders, his face steeling. “If we go down, we’re taking them with us. Angle the ship and set it on a collision course with the Restoration.”

The officers acknowledged the command, too fearful to protest the suicidal maneuver. Gritting his teeth, Panaka looked over his shoulder. The Sentinel was staring down at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Slowly, he rolled onto his stomach. The Sentinel shifted, ready to grab him again. Instead, Panaka got up onto one knee and bowed his head. He kept his left hand over his other wrist, making sure the droid could not perceive what he was doing.

“My Emperor,” he started to say, keeping his voice low.

Palpatine’s face appeared on the droid’s screen. “My dear friend….”

Panaka raised his right arm, pulling his sleeve back to reveal his holdout blaster. The Sentinel barely reacted in time as a blaster bolt shot out and struck its face. Its screen shattered into pieces as the plasma bolt fried its processing unit, and the droid fell to the deck.

Duvat turned around only to find Panaka’s blaster pointing directly at his face. Instinctively, the captain raised his hands while Panaka slowly rose to his feet.

“I will be taking command of this ship, Captain Duvat,” Panaka said through clenched teeth. “You are hereby relieved of duty.”

Duvat eyed the blaster for another moment before smirking. “It’s already too late. The damage is already done.”

A shudder and an explosion told Panaka that the rebels had already destroyed their remaining deflector shield. He did not need to hear the panicked report from the officer in the crew pit. Even now, the Restoration was moving into range to deliver the finishing blow.

“The Queen of Naboo is dead,” Duvat continued. “Executed by the very stormtroopers you had stationed to protect her.”

Panaka felt his body break out into a cold sweat. “When was this?”

“I gave the order right before we left Chommell Minor. She was dead before we even arrived.”

Panaka wasn’t sure what happened next first: Him pulling the trigger of his blaster and shooting Duvat between the eyes, or the Restoration opening fire on the Torment. Either way, the crew did not react to their captain’s death as they were too busy hanging on for dear life as turbolaser fire wracked the bridge.

As he remained where he stood on the bridge, Panaka faintly realized that he could still try to hail the Restoration on the comms and offer his surrender. Or he could make it to the escape pods and let the New Republic capture him. But what difference would it make? They would try and execute him for war crimes regardless, and they would be right to do so. He had violated his oath. He had betrayed Naboo. He had killed his Queen. There was nothing left for him to do, but to go down with his ship. It was the least he could do for all the men and women serving under him, giving up their lives in a futile attempt to keep the ship together for a few minutes longer.

As fires erupted all around the bridge, Panaka turned and looked out the viewport, giving one last glance to his home. He noticed that many of the storms had appeared to have stopped; perhaps the New Republic had already destroyed the last remaining satellites. Perhaps Naboo would survive after all.

It was a small comfort. A blast of plasma flashed from the Restoration’s primary cannon, aimed directly for the bridge, and Moff Panaka saw no more.

Star Wars Destinies Retold: From the Ashes, Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Toah tapped his foot nervously, feeling the deck of the Fortune’s Son vibrate softly as it traversed through hyperspace. General Calrissian had wasted no time in making the jump to Naboo as soon as they had picked up Ambassador Madurrin, but he was worried that they weren’t going to make it in time. By what he had overheard from Lando’s conversations with Captain Solo and later Admiral Nantz, it sounded like things were getting really bad at Naboo.

While the rest of Lando’s Commandos geared up, Toah was left waiting in the Fortune’s Son’s lounge area, along with R2-D2 and the ambassador from Anx Space. Despite Dantooine’s relative proximity to Gravlex Med, Toah had never met an Anx personally before; thus, he didn’t realize just how massive they were. Madurrin seemed as if she barely fit on the ship, with the tip of her large head crest nearly scraping the ceiling when standing up. Her large tail also made seating arrangements difficult, and she sat on her haunches rather than on one of the sofas in the lounge area.

Toah could feel the ambassador’s eyes on him, although he tried to ignore them as best he could. When he started pacing, however, that was when Madurrin chose to finally speak up.

“Is this your first combat scenario?” the Anx asked gently.

Toah tensed up and furtively glanced at her. “I’m not a soldier. I’m just… I work at a spaceport on Dantooine.”

Madurrin nodded her large head in understanding. “How did you come to end up here, then?”

Toah shook his head. “You’re not going to believe me, but Luke Skywalker showed up and—”

Madurrin’s eyes went wide. “The Luke Skywalker?”

“Yeah.” Toah gestured to R2-D2, who warbled in response. “Anyway, I led him to some old ruins that he thought belonged to a Jedi temple, only there were bounty hunters there, and he got captured.”

Madurrin nodded again. “I heard General Calrissian mention something about that. So are you just waiting to get back home, then?”

Toah looked down at his feet and shrugged. “I guess. Not much waiting for me back there. I pretty much got fired from my job when I left with Artoo, and I know my parents are going to give me an icy reception when I get back and they find out. Icier than normal, anyway.”

“Well, unless I am mistaken, you appear to be the age at which humans typically set out for their own paths. Perhaps if you ask General Calrissian, he can find a role for you here.”

“Maybe.” Toah sighed. “I’m not sure what good I’ll do here, though. I’ve never fired a blaster in my life, nor have I ever flown a starfighter.”

“Who says your path must be with the military?” Madurrin gestured to herself. “I used to serve in my homeworld’s militia, but I decided to become an ambassador instead. I had seen enough war, so I decided to give peace a shot.”

“And how has that worked out for you?”

“Well, no one’s tried to kill me yet.” Madurrin winked. “Diplomatic immunity, and all of that.”

Toah offered her a faint smile until he felt the ship come out of hyperspace. Immediately, alarms began to ring down the corridors as Lando’s Commandos rushed to and from their stations. Taking in a deep breath, Toah sat himself down on one of the sofas, resigning himself to waiting and hoping that no one tried to blow up the Fortune’s Son in the meantime. He wasn’t exactly in the position to do anything in that event.

A few minutes later, he saw the commandos Shriv Suurgav and Nien Nunb rush past the entrance to the lounge. The latter noticed him and paused, stopping Shriv in his tracks as well. The Duros gave his Sullustan companion an impatient look as Nien said something to him in Sullustese. Shriv’s expression went from impatience to doubt, and the Duros then stepped into the lounge to approach Toah.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “You know how to fly a starfighter?”

Toah moved with a start as he looked up at him in surprise. “Me? No. Why are you asking?”

“We’re short one pilot, and Skywalker’s fighter is still in the hangar bay. You did fly it here, didn’t you?”

“No, that was all Artoo. I’ve never flown a starfighter in my life, let alone been in a combat situation.”

Shriv glanced from him to R2, who was wobbling on his feet and beeping something that Toah could not decipher.

“Well,” the Duros said tentatively, “it’s never too late to learn. You could have the astromech pilot the ship while you fire the guns. We mostly just need to take out the weather satellites that the Empire’s deployed.”

Toah looked over to R2, who was now beeping even more excitedly and perhaps even encouragingly. He thought about objecting further, citing some excuse about how dangerous it would be and how slim his chances of survival were.

But then he realized that all of them were aware of the danger and the slim odds, yet that did not stop them from going out there to do what was right. It hadn’t stopped the Rebels in their fight against the Empire. It hadn’t stopped Luke Skywalker from blowing up the Death Star or defeating the Emperor. In fact, Luke hadn’t been much older than Toah was now when he flew at Yavin.

He had wanted to make a difference in the galaxy. This was his chance to make a difference. What was he doing turning it down?

Getting up to his feet, almost a bit too fast as he nearly stumbled, he faced Shriv and Nien and snapped a quick salute. “I’ll do it then. Just tell me what to do.”

“Great,” Shriv muttered. “Go with Nien and he’ll help you get suited up. Meet us in the hangar bay so we can head out. And hurry, we don’t have much time.”

The Duros then marched down the corridor while Nien motioned for Toah and R2 to follow him. As he left the lounge, Toah looked over his shoulder at Madurrin, who offered him an encouraging smile. He returned it, and this time it was genuine.

*  *  *

“Watch out for those trees!” The bearded Naboo man had a hand on Luke’s shoulder as the latter navigated the Starlight freighter through the storm and towards the city of Theed. “Stabilize those thrusters so that the winds don’t—”

“I know how to fly a ship,” Luke said as calmly as he could.

“Jinn, leave him alone,” Pooja said sternly from behind them, sitting in one of the two seats behind Luke. “Go back into the hold to prepare the rest of the troops.”

Jinn shook his head but complied with order anyway, muttering under his breath. “My father was a pilot. He taught me everything I needed to know about flying.”

Free of the distraction, Luke managed to focus on his piloting, bringing the ship closer and closer to Theed. So far, they hadn’t managed to trick off Imperial sensors… not that it made much of a difference. TIE fighters were swarming in and strafing the city, not targeting anything in particular and just blasting whatever happened to be in sight. It was likely just by chance that they hadn’t happened to fire on their ship yet and not because they were transmitting Tarr-Nar-Mal’s clearance codes.

Sure enough, as they got closer within range of the city, the ship shuddered as a TIE fighter spotted them and started firing. Luke grimaced and fired the blaster cannon mounted on the other edge of the ship’s wing. The TIE fighter was fast however and managed to evade the attack before firing back. The ship trembled again and the fighter managed to get behind the freighter, out of range of the ship’s limited weapons.

“I would have expected a bounty hunter’s ship to have better armaments,” Leia remarked.

Before Luke could respond, he heard an explosion and glanced at the scanner to see that the TIE fighter was no longer there, and in its place was a much larger ship. Said larger ship proceeded to streak across them and it did not take long for either him or Leia to pin a name to it.

“Han!” Excitedly, Leia accessed the comm panel and hailed the Millennium Falcon. “Han, it’s me! We’re in the other freighter!”

“Leia?” Luke could hear the relief in Han’s voice. “Thank gods. Let’s get you out of here. The fleet just arrived and—”

“No,” Leia said firmly. “We need to get to the Queen. We can’t just leave her here. I also have the leader of the Naboo resistance with me.”

“I’m also here,” Luke supplied.

“Luke? What are you—? Never mind.” Han sighed before saying, “All right. I see the hangar to the Theed Palace up ahead. I’ll provide cover for you.”

“We can also use our starfighters once we’re there,” Pooja said to Leia.

Leia nodded in return and Luke proceeded to direct the ship towards the hangar, following the Millennium Falcon as it blasted TIE fighters that tried to intercept them. Luke noticed that the Corellian freighter’s top and bottom turrets were not firing, indicating that no one was in them… and that Han was alone.

“Is Chewie not with you?” Luke asked Han over the comm.

“Family business,” Han curtly replied. “Once you’re in the hangar, I’m going to break off and loop around, take out some more of those TIEs so they don’t harass you. Then I’ll swoop in and….” He trailed off for a moment before uttering a quiet, “Uh oh.”

Leia frowned. “’Uh oh’ what?”

“Picking up more ships. Non-Imperial by the looks of it, although one looks kinda familiar….” Han then cursed. “Blast. It’s the Punishing One.”

“Dengar’s ship?” Leia asked.

“He was one of the bounty hunters that captured me,” Luke said grimly. “Guess they’re back for round two.”

“Yeah, and there’s a lot more than just him,” Han grunted. “I’ll try to hold them off as best I can, maybe divert their attention. So long as you get in the hangar safely….”

“My fighters will join you once they get to their ships,” Pooja spoke up.

“If you say so, lady, whoever you are.” With that, the Millennium Falcon blasted off, taking out two more TIEs before heading straight for the bounty hunter ships that Luke could now see.

The hangar to Theed Palace was also now in view and Luke punched the throttle before pulling back, swooping into the hangar and coming in for a safe if a slightly rough landing. Several stormtroopers were present in the hangar and immediately opened fire, only to fall back as Jinn and his fellow soldiers came pouring out with blasters ablaze.

As he exited the cockpit with Leia and Pooja, Luke paused in front of Tarr, still in the main hold. The Cerean opened his eyes to look at him, his expression a blank canvas.

Taking a deep breath, Luke turned to him and said, “We’re going to leave you here. You can either stay here until we get back, or you can do whatever you can to remove your restraints and retake control of your ship. But our paths separate here, understand?”

Tarr nodded. “If that is the way the current runs, then so it shall be, whether I like it or not.”

Luke nodded back before leaving the ship with Leia and Pooja. The stormtroopers had already been dealt with and several of the Naboo soldiers were rushing for the N-1 starfighters that were in the hangar bay. The rest joined up with their leader and the Jedi. Shara, for her part, was glancing back at the fighters, looking uncertain. Leia then stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Can you fly a Naboo starfighter?” she asked.

Shara smiled at her. “I can fly anything.”

“Then by all means.” Leia motioned to one of the awaiting yellow fighters. Shara grinned at her before rushing off to join the other Naboo pilots.

As the fighters launched off, the others headed for a pair of large metal doors at the other end of the hangar. As they approached, the giant doors began to open… and revealed a tall horned figure standing in front of them.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and Luke cursed under his breath. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Inquisitor Rarnok lifted his head and grinned. “Hello again, Master Skywalker. Princess Organa. Long time no see.”

Grimacing, Pooja motioned for her soldiers to follow her towards an alternative route. Luke remained where he was, facing the Inquisitor… as did Leia.

Luke glanced at his sister. “Aren’t you going to go with Pooja and the others?”

“No,” Leia said quietly to him. “I feel that my place is here.”

Pooja looked back at them with uncertainty, but with a nod from Leia she and the others departed from the hangar. Rarnok let them go, his golden eyes transfixed on the twins.

“Do you feel it?” the Zabrak asked, his gloved hand reaching for his lightsaber. “The cold?”

Luke did, now that he mentioned it. An inexplicable chill that he had at first attributed to the unnatural storm raging outside, but now realized was a different kind of chill. The same kind he had first felt in that dark cave on Dagobah, two years ago.

Leia closed her eyes and took in a breath. “I can feel it, too,” she murmured.

“It is the dark side,” Rarnok explained. “Many years ago, a man much like myself stood here, facing off against two Jedi Knights not unlike yourselves.” He ran a hand over his red and black tattooed face. “Unlike me, he was a son of Dathomir rather than Iridonia. Yet I cannot help but feel a… kindred spirit to him. As if I was meant to stand in his stead.”

“Is there a point to this?” Luke asked. “Or are you just trying to buy time?”

“I was trying to make conversation.” Rarnok sighed dramatically. “But I can see you are not interested.”

He removed his lightsaber hilt from his belt and its scarlet blade snapped out from the emitter.

“Very well, Jedi,” the Zabrak said, beckoning with his hand. “Let us repeat history, as Naboo burns around us.”

*  *  *

“Danger Squadron is in flight. Flight One is taking care of those satellites while Flight Two is escorting the others down to the surface.”

Lando idly nodded, standing on the bridge of the Fortune’s Son as he watched the battle unfold. Admiral Nantz’s fleet had already arrive and the Restoration was currently engaged in combat with one of the two Star Destroyers orbiting the planet of Naboo. He also counted at least two Gozanti assault carriers, which a flight of Y-wings was taking care of with their payload of bombs and proton torpedoes.

He was still trying to wrap his mind around the whole situation. As far as he knew, Naboo was still under the Empire’s control; Leia had even been working on trying to bring it into the New Republic. If these Imperial ships didn’t belong to some radical warlord, then why were they trying to bring devastation to one of their own worlds?

There was little time to speculate on such questions. Answers would have to wait until after the dust had settled. Preferably with Naboo still in one piece.

After a moment’s thought, he ordered the comm officer to patch a call through to the Millennium Falcon. When Han picked up, he sounded extremely irritable. More so than usual, anyway.

“What is it?”

“Just calling to make sure you’re alive. Have you found Leia?”

“Yeah. She and Luke are at the palace, along with a bunch of local rebels. I’m trying to shake off a bunch of bounty hunters.”

Lando frowned, recalling what the kid Toah had said about Luke being captured by bounty hunters. “How many?”

“Too many. Although I think the Naboo are sending in fighters of their own to help me out. Not sure how much help they’ll be, though….”

“I’ll see if Nantz has any fighters to spare to help you out. Just hang in there, okay, old buddy?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Han groused back.

Lando had nothing to say to that, falling silent as he stood on the bridge and watched the action from where he stood.

*  *  *

“Sir, a Republic—I mean, Rebel fleet has just exited hyperspace.”

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Captain Duvat replied. “Focus your attention on the attack. I’m sure the Veruna will keep them occupied.”

The name of the other Star Destroyer jolted Moff Panaka back to the present. It was a name he had not heard in a long time; Ars Veruna had been the King of Naboo when he had first enlisted in the Royal Security Forces, and it had been the King’s death that had prompted his implementation of the Queen’s decoy protocol.

He was staggered by the realization of how fast the past thirty-eight years had flown past him. Back then, he had been dedicated to the Queen’s protection. Now, he was firing on the city of Theed, where the Queen resided.

He wasn’t even sure if she was still alive.

In his many years of service, he had seen many Queens ascend to the throne, and only one of them had died while in office during his service. He had not been involved in the Empire’s assassination of Queen Apailana and he had willfully turned a blind eye to it. After all, she had been found to be committing treason by harboring Jedi fugitives. It was her own fault that she had received the Emperor’s wrath.

But what crime had the current Queen, Kylantha, committed? As far as he knew, she had not made any attempt to defect to the New Republic. Of course, he had done everything in his power to ensure she was cut off from the outside world… but that was because he did not want her killed. He might not have been Captain of Security any more, but that did not mean that the Queen’s protection was his first priority.

So why then was he threatening her safety? Why was it he standing on the bridge of the ship that was firing on Naboo—her home, his home—and not someone else?

Had he become the thing he had vowed to protect Naboo from? Was he no better than the Neimoidians that had threatened his world thirty-seven years ago?

What had the Emperor asked him to become?

He sucked in his breath, conscious of the Sentinel looming over his shoulder. Squaring his shoulders, he turned his head to Captain Duvat, studying the other man’s face. Duvat’s attention was focused on the destruction unfolding on the planet below, watching as the storms generated by the satellite raged across the surface. His expression was blank but Panaka could see a gleam in his eye. A gleam that suggested satisfaction at a job well done. A gleam that suggested pleasure at how successful their forces were performing.

Panaka realized then and there that he was staring at the man destroying his homeworld.

And he was letting him do it.

“Captain.” The words came out of his mouth without him even meaning to. This was it. There was no turning back now. “I think we have made a sufficient demonstration of our might. Recall your forces immediately.”

Duvat moved with a start, looked at him in surprise. Panaka heard the Sentinel shift closer behind him, and he could feel the bottom of its scarlet robe tickle his ankle.

“Sir, the Emperor’s orders were to—” Duvat started to say.

“I am fully aware of the Emperor’s orders,” Panaka cut him off. “But he did not specify the extent of the operation, did he? I’m sure the Naboo fully comprehend our might and know what we are capable should they try to defect.”

“The mission is not complete until Naboo has been wiped out.” The statement came from the Sentinel behind him, using its own mechanical voice rather than that of the Emperor’s.

Panaka turned and regarded the droid evenly. “I say that the mission is complete. I am the one in command here.”

“You answer to the will of the Emperor. You will obey.”

Panaka furrowed his eyebrow, narrowing his eyes as he spoke the words he knew would spell his fate. “The Emperor is dead. He no longer has authority—”

The Sentinel’s arm shot up and it seized him by the neck, hoisting up from the deck with all of its might. Several crew members turned their heads only to be barked back to their duties by Duvat. The captain of the Torment then stepped around to stand beside the Sentinel, regarding Panaka coolly as the Moff gagged from the droid’s iron grip.

“Please do not make me do this, Governor,” Duvat said. “The Emperor holds you in high esteem for a reason.”

Panaka could not respond, feeling his windpipe strain under the Sentinel’s grip.

“The Emperor lives, and his will shall be carried out,” Duvat continued. “Refusal to do so will result in your execution. That applies to all beholden to his authority. Is that understood?”

The captain did not wait for an answer and left Panaka hanging there as he returned his attention to the bridge.

“Carry on with the assault. The only orders you will follow shall be those of the Emperor. And if it is his will that Naboo burns… then so it shall burn.”