Power Lust
Part 2: Truce
By SJ and Tatiana 09-05-00/13-04-01
Suggested and co-written with Tatiana (aa354105@econophone.ch)

__________________________________________
Disclaimers: Nothing in the Star Wars Universe belong to me; everything belongs
to George Lucas. I'm only writing stories for fun.
See my homepage for more details.
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/3702

IMPORTANT Note about the story's copyrights: All the rights related to the basic idea of Mon Mothma's scheme and the ensuing alliance between Luke and Vader belong to Tatiana, and so do Vader's personality and the Sathed history. The rest of the story is a fusing of our imaginations since we've passed the story back and forth between ourselves :)

Special thanks to my shy, secret beta-reader and best friend, Adrianne, for her help with the final editing of my new stories. Thanks for giving me some of your precious time, my friend :)

_________________________________

After reporting the presence of dangerous pirates at the spaceport, Luke
returned to his ship to get some much needed sleep.

Cold. Burning pain. Blind darkness. Cold fire----- A cold touch. A black mask,
hovering over her. A reflection of her face in the empty lenses. Burned
darkened ruins of a temple----.'

Luke awoke yet again with a gasp, the third time since he had gone to sleep, and
once again, he sat bolt upright on his bunk, startling his faithful droid from
his own rest.

Artoo whistled an inquiry to his master.

"No, I'm okay... Just nightmares," he muttered as he forced his heartbeat to
slow down.

Artoo fluted something degrading about a certain dark lord.

"Thanks a lot, Artoo," Luke grumbled as he fell back on the pillow of his narrow
bunk. "I really needed you to remind me of 'him'," he muttered as he covered
his eyes to shoo away the thoughts that were suddenly invading his mind.

Vader cutting off his hand... Determinate to destroy his soul... And now Leia...

He tried to go back to sleep, to forget everything... but he couldn't.

Two things were not leaving his mind: Vader, and that unknown account number.
Had Vader sent the pirates after Leia? he wondered as he sat up once again, this
time with a sigh of tiredness and worry. Had he discovered about their
relationship? Why not come after him instead of his sister? And why the heck
would Vader give that job to the scum of the galaxy when he could take care of
that himself? Last time that he had dealt with the cruel dark lord, the other
had been more than able to handle his own affairs with anybody he chose to
torment.

Unable to stand the idea of his father hurting Leia again, he stood up and
went into the cockpit, his droid following him right on his heels.

"I'll get to the bottom of this thing," he promised him, sitting in the pilot's
seat.

His droid fluted in agreement, although Luke had the feeling that Artoo didn't
exactly know what he was talking about.

Wordlessly, the young Jedi turned on the main computer, established a link with
the all-knowing imperial holonet and typed the number that he'd memorized aboard
the Pirates' ship.

A series of possible banks came on screen. He scrolled down the list, then took
a deep breath and trusted the Force to pinpoint the guilty one.

It did.

Since the account was numbered though, the owner's identity was naturally
protected, but Luke had been with Artoo far too long to ignore his talents of
hacker. He plugged him in and told him to find the identity of the mysterious
nemesis.

It took the little droid a long, long time to find the data. A time during
which Luke couldn't leave the planet without disturbing his search.

Hence, he tried once again to catch up on his recent lack of sleep.

******

Three days later, and little sleep for the Jedi, the data search was over.
Luke, who had once again gotten up from his bunk after another vain attempt to
sleep, felt his heart stop in his chest as he read the results. He sank in the
pilot chair, his knees giving under him in horror.

The woman had given another name, but the biodata didn't lie; Artoo had
taken the liberty to compare them with the medical databank which registered
everything about every citizen as soon as they were born.

Mon Mothma?.. he gaped in utter denial. No... no, it couldn't be. Mon Mothma
was one of Leia's best friends. The two women had been in the Senate together,
had founded the Rebellion together and had fought side by side at the worst of
the war---

"There must be a mistake," he commented out loud as he typed in a request to
produce further proof.

Artoo double-checked. Now that the information had been found, it came up much
faster than he expected... and still confirming him that there wasn't any
mistake.

"Then it's been forged," he told the droid, hanging onto that last hope that
something was wrong.

Artoo gave an electronic sigh, set to work again, with the same results.

It hadn't been forged either.

Luke slumped back in his seat, drained from any strength to sit straighter.

The woman whom everyone looked up to... The woman who had led them in war... The
woman who was presently in charge of the Rebellion... was an assassin. At
least, he conceded glumly, it explained why she had vehemently opposed his
leaving to search for Leia. Somehow, she must have known that his Jedi talent
would eventually lead him to this discovery.

Which now left him with one question: what could he do now?

He couldn't go back to the Rebellion, not after this discovery--- and suddenly
understood the woman's reason for her actions: Mon was trying to destroy the
Emperor to take his place, taking out anyone who could stand in her way... even
Leia.

Normally, he didn't believe such mean judgments, but now, with this last piece
of the puzzle setting into place, everything was horribly clear: the Rebellion
was in fact Mon Mothma's private army against the private army of the Emperor...
and if Leia had also figured this out...

Then it explained why the other had had his sister kidnapped even though they
hadn't been close to defeating the Empire.

So, he too had now 'awakened' from Mon's lies, he thought glumly, but that still
left him with the question as to what to do.

He couldn't tell Han 'that' truth; the poor man would go berserk and die before
he ever got to Leia. He also knew that he couldn't contact anybody in the
Rebellion; they would tag him as the traitor the moment that he would mention
Mon's secret.

That... left only one person in the whole galaxy whom he could call for help.

The last person he ever wanted to see again.

Vader.

No, he argued with himself, swiftly standing up on his feet as if to add belief
to his denial. He wasn't that desperate... was he? He wasn't going to call for
the help of the man who was responsible for his artificial hand, his nightmares
about his family and all the other horrors which had happened to him throughout
his first three years with the Rebellion.

No way.

And yet..., he reminded himself, slowly sitting back in his seat under the
bemused eye of his electronic companion, Vader hadn't come after either Leia nor
him for almost two years now...

He himself knew all too well that the Fleet was still out there, but Vader
hadn't tracked them for a while, since... Bespin in fact.

The thought of that cursed place brought back memories of despair, of horror, of
loss... and of hope... from the man who had said that he was his father. Vader
had hoped that he would come off his perch, had in fact wanted him at his
side...

And ever since that day, he finally admitted to himself, the cunning dark lord
had not tried to recapture him even once... It was not as if he couldn't have
tried or even managed it, he reflected grimly. He himself knew far too well
now that Vader was extremely powerful in the Force.

He had no doubt that he could overcome him anytime he chose.

And yet, he hadn't.

And then there was his dream, he remembered. He had assumed that Vader had been
meaning to hurt his sister, but... What if it had been a vision of the Force?,
he pondered warily. What if Vader was truly going to help him save Leia?

Far from reassured by his train of thoughts, he worriedly rubbed his forehead,
then ran the same hand through his sleep-tousled hair before settling
it on his jaw as he kept pondering his decision.

He finally made up his mind and hoped that he wasn't making a mistake.

Sitting up, he began to type the code which he had learnt despite himself when
he had found out about Vader's personal calling box.

Artoo, who had remained silent during his bout of reaction, suddenly noticed
what he was doing and squeaked in alarm.

"It's okay, Artoo, I know what I'm doing."

The droid didn't seem to share his opinion, which wasn't as confident as it
Seemed anyway. He hesitated before punching in the last numbers, then finally
completed his call.

'May the Force be with me,' he thought fervently.

The box opened instantly, no welcome of any kind at its opening. Luke
hurried to type in his message, not trusting his voice to remain steady if
he spoke.

'Meet me on Saccoria in four days. Come alone. L.'

He knew that Vader didn't need more clues. If he came, He would find him.

He ended the call and looked at his little companion. "Well, there's no turning
back now."

Artoo whistled mournfully at that, as if foreboding some bad event. Luke
conceded that he was probably right as well as the wisest of them both at the
moment.

******

Approximately 2 hours later, on Coruscant.
Emperor's Palace:

It had been two years now since Vader had officially proclaimed himself the
Emperor's heir and Palpatine's representative.

Unofficially, he was now the Emperor.

Palpatine's state was now stable but absolutely hopeless since his mind
was in ruins; he had lost all his faculties, all his powers and almost all his
memory. Once an almighty ruler, he was now just a pawn in the hands of his
servant.

Having waited for this for almost twenty years, Darth Vader surprisingly didn't
feel any joy.

In fact, he felt nothing about either his nowadays position, nor about the
Emperor's state. Perhaps any joy he might have felt had run away when he had
seen how much needed to be done, he reflected seriously as he made his way to
his quarters.

He had always known what an enormous task it would be to revive the Empire, but
never had he imagined that its present state would be so desperate... However,
gathering his determination and will, he had worked like a crazy man, days and
nights, sleeping less and less as the time had passed.

Eventually, he had also blocked any other feeling, emotion, or thought that was
not linked with the task at hand, trying to make the Empire's future his only
goal in life.

It has been so for two years now.

Even now though, he wasn't completely able to resume his previous state of mind
of 'before' the events of the Death Star.

Before the princess. Before the knowledge that he had a son, then a daughter.
Before Bespin. Before his children's hateful glances. Before these feelings
had begun to make a difference to him.

Forcing down his regret once again, he coldly reminded himself that he had to
succeed to forget them. That was why he was working so hard.

His now firmly-entrenched workaholic attitude was making him feel cold and empty
besides the growing tiredness. That was good, he thought as he entered his
personal rooms in his castle---

He checked his message box--- and was in for a rather rude surprise.

He found the message in amongst the rest of the trash which he normally deleted
without a second look, but strangely not tonight.

Even stranger, he momentarily felt an unusual peace settle over his senses as he
noticed who had sent it; his son had contacted him... then it was gone.

No, this wasn't a nice surprise, he argued with himself. It was most unexpected
and almost unwelcome since it was already destroying all the barriers which he
had built around his heart and mind; in the end, it was painful to feel
something, to feel so much after two years of self-enforced coldness and
stillness.

He felt joy, and this joy felt as if it were burning his soul. He also felt a
strange peace, the peace that was not stillness but Life.

Completion.

And all these feeling refused to die as his cold mind tried to soothe them
back into apathy.

After a long moment of warring with himself, Darth Vader sighed and
admitted the existence, and the right to be, of all these feelings.

So, he thought, refocusing on his message, his son needed him.

What for? Perhaps it was a trap, he began to consider, then shook his head to
himself. Improbable, unless Luke had assured to the Alliance that the dark lord
would come, but for this, he would have had to explain why the Emperor's
'henchman' would do such a foolishness... and to do so, he would have had to
reveal his parentage.

Most improbable, he calculated.

He knew Luke; he knew that the boy could barely reveal such a matter to his
friends since he felt deeply ashamed of their relationship. Thus, he strongly
suspected that he would not reveal it to the Alliance government.

Not to Mothma.

Still, he admitted, the probability of a trap existed, but it was very slim,
which led to only one possible conclusion: his son truly needed him.

He had called to him, ignoring the danger, the hatred and shame...
because he was desperate, he realized.

He then grew aware that he himself wanted to hear why his son needed him so
much; he also wanted to help him--- even if this would not change anything about
how Luke felt about him, he sternly reminded himself.

Well, he told himself, as long as he himself would have some kind of
relationship with the flesh of his flesh...

He would go, he decided.

******

Four days later, Saccoria.
Abandoned temple of the Sun:

Luke remained in the shadows, following the dark presence of his father
through the Force.

Had this been a good idea? he asked himself for the hundredth time since he had
arrived at the temple. If it weren't, it was kind of too late, he sarcastically
reminded himself. No choice but to wait for the events to develop.

The other finally stepped into view.

"Luke?"

Luke remained behind his column, hiding from the dark lord. "Don't come any
closer," he warned him, cursing himself for feeling afraid. After all, he
reminded himself, he had debated long and hard with himself before contacting
the dark giant.

He had also come to realize that Vader hadn't hunted him down for quite a
while now. Surely he wouldn't be menial enough to do it here, under the strange
circumstances, he tried to reassure himself.

Meanwhile, Vader stood still, a dark silhouette which seemed to float above the
softly-lit, white marble of the temple.

"Very well," the other nodded agreeably. "Why did you call me?"

The temple was broken but the acoustic was still good; the Dark Lord's already
rich voice filled the building. Luke shivered as he suddenly felt small, alone
with the dark threat. Perhaps this entire meeting had been a mistake...

He cursed himself again, then boldly stepped away from the illusory protection
of the column.

"I need your help," he stated as bravely as he could.

Vader seemed surprised by his quick admission. "A most unexpected turn of
events, indeed. Why would a Jedi Master need the help from a Dark Lord of
the Sith?"

There was a bitter irony in the voice, Luke noticed as he stared at the dark
figure. "I'm not a Jedi Master." Was he trying to start a fight? he
wondered... And suddenly understood. The other wanted him to admit the truth,
to not beat around the bushes. "I need help from my father," he admitted,
forcing the last word out of his suddenly strangled throat.

However, he knew that the strangling sensation had nothing to do with the dark
Lord; it was his own doing. Forcing himself to focus back on his... father, he
saw Darth Vader acknowledge his statement with a nod.

"Very well, my son. What do you need my help for?"

How could he explain everything which had happened in the last month in two or
three sentences? he wondered. "My sister, your... daughter... has been
kidnapped," he finally managed.

He considered that it was a rather good summary.

"Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan?" Vader queried seriously.

'As if I had 'many' sisters,' Luke thought sarcastically--- then he understood
what the other meant. Who would kidnap such a persona and risk a fight with all
the Alliance? "At first, I thought that you were behind it," he admitted,
feeling a slight blush of shyness creep up his cheekbones.

"I assure you, Son, that had it been the case, you would have known 'for
certain' that it was me," the other stated with a harsh and cold voice.

"Yes, I'm rather aware of it, 'father'," Luke indicated, restraining his shiver
as multiple scenarios of what might have happened played out in front of him.
"I also know for sure that it's not you," he added seriously.

"Thank you." The irony in the voice was palpable. "So, you know who is
responsible of her disappearance."

"Yes."

"Why do you need me then? You are not a green-horned boy anymore," his father
stated, obviously referring to their last encounter from which he had survived.

"It's Mothma," Luke said simply, dejectedly.

A small silence.

"I see," was the only answer.

"You don't seem surprised," Luke frowned, crossing his arms in front his chest
in an attempt to straighten his composure.

"I'm not," the black-clad giant nodded in agreement. "In fact, I should've
understood it much earlier."

"She is a very good actress..." The truth was painful, even now that he'd learnt
to accept it.

"She always was... And she always was ambitious to the extreme," his father
commented, locking his hands behind his back as a teacher would. "That's why
she left the Senate after she was refused the Prime minister's seat. At that
time, everybody was surprised. It was impossible to imagine her out of
politics."

His father's accounting made him frown. "You seem to know her well," he observed
doubtfully.

"Indeed I do. We used to work together."

Luke scolded at that. "Worked? She said that you forced her to leave the Senate
because of ideological differences."

A chuckle. "Well, she made up quite a scandal to quit the Senate with dignity
when her prospect was denied. It didn't fool anybody who knew her well though,
and there really were some 'ideological differences' between us at the time
concerning the methods, but not the goals. She too wanted a strong Empire, so I
was rather surprised when she started that Rebellion thing--- but even I never
doubted her earnestness."

Luke was flabbergasted by his father's revelations. Mothma had wanted the
Empire? She had wanted to rule it??

"She is an excellent actress, is she not?" his father asked in the silence.

Luke could only nod in agreement. "Even Leia believed in her," he whispered.

"She's also understood her game."

That was not a question. "Yes. And Mon's made her disappear. I wonder..." he
began hesitatingly, then licked his suddenly dry lips. "I wonder why she is
still alive..." he admitted.

His father didn't even take a moment to consider, showing him how well he indeed
knew the woman. "Mothma undoubtedly has plans for the Princess of Alderaan."

"And that's why I need your help," he reminded his father. "We have to find her
before Mon initiates any plan she has in mind."

Now that he had spend more than five minutes with his father, he began to notice
how his mask seemed to carry out his facial expression. Right now, even though
it hadn't shifted in any way, he could almost see the man raise his eyebrow in
slight challenge.

"You need my resources?" he asked him tauntingly.

"I need, 'Father', your help to find my sister," Luke answered with all the
power of persuasion that he could muster, tired of their little game of
admitting the truth.

He glared at the black mask, forgetting all his fears this time. No matter how
he felt about this man, this dark lord of the Sith and Emperor's right hand...
he was his father... he 'was' his father. That 'had' to matter, he wanted to
shout at him.

A muffled, short laugh came from the darkness that was his father. He realized
that he was aware of his annoyance. "Very well, Son. I will help you find Leia-
-- but keep this Correlian of yours out of my way," he warned, waving a leather-
covered finger at him.

"I will," Luke promised, letting out the breath that he had been holding. "Thank
you."

"For nothing at the moment. I'll contact you myself when I have news. You
still have a box?"

"Yes."

His father nodded, then without another word, turned heels and left.

Luke leaned against the closest column. Now that he was alone once again, he
felt as if all his strength had been drained from him yet again. He took a deep
breath to recover them.

The dices were thrown now, and his father hadn't tried to capture him, nor
deceive him for that matter. Instead, it looked like he could really trust
him. It naturally bemused him, but he accepted his feelings as truthful and,
somewhat, reassuring. For the moment, he wouldn't have to worry about Vader.

However, he had to take Han and try to find another track than his father's to
find Leia. As he considered the Dark Lord's admonition, he dimly wondered why
the other felt such annoyance toward his friend. He filed the incident for
later analysis. For the moment, he had to rejoin Han. Solo was a smuggler who
had once had dealings with pirates; with his help, they would find a way to
backtrack the pirates to find some clues as to where Leia was kept.

It probably wouldn't be as fast as Vader's direct search concerning Mon, he
conceded, but it would at least be something.

And now came the touchiest part, he scowled. He had to report to the rebel
fleet about his Jedi Search without giving away the fact that he knew the real
motivation behind the rebellion's military enterprise.

He knew that the most normal thing to do would be to run away, but it wouldn't
do any good to the galaxy since Mon would still be fomenting her little personal
war. No, he sighed tiredly, he had to keep up his charade, keep up an innocent
appearance--- and foul her evil plans.

To do that though, he had to find his sister.

His dreams were now assaulting him relentlessly at night, yet they never gave
him any clue as to where she could be kept.

If only he could feel her through the Force, he thought in frustration as he
pushed himself away from his chosen column and made his way out of the temple.

TBC in part 3: Searches

Hope you had fun :)

Copyright 2001/2002, SJ and Tatiana
Webmaster : (skyjade@globetrotter.net)(Any positive stuff is welcome,
but any mean stuff won't even be read.)

Home | Fan Fiction | Links | Site Info | Challenges | Fan Art