Power Lust
Part 7: Refuge
By SJ and Tatiana 09-05-00/13-04-01
Suggested and co-written with Tatiana (aa354105@econophone.ch)

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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 :)

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*Luke, Luke, wake up... Luke...* his father's voice droned in his head.

The barely conscious youth groaned, then brought his hand to his head and rubbed
his temple.

What was going on now? he grunted to himself.

Slowly, his senses returned to him; the darn voice continued to buzz in his
mind.

Finally, he became aware that he was laying on his stomach, on the hard platform
of his cell, his head hanging off of it and toward the floor. And his father
was trying to contact him.

*Okay, okay... I'm up,* he complained drowsily.

Well, he was not completely up, he corrected himself, but his mind was awakened
now. He weakly pushed himself up in a more normal lying position, then laid his
head back on the cool steel, not feeling up to any more strenuous action for the
moment.

*Are you okay?* Vader asked him.

*I've felt better. What have you done this time?* he slurred while he continued
to fight against his urge to sleep onward.

*I kept you and your friends unconscious for the remnants of the trip.
We're---*

*You've what?!?* Luke exclaimed, his eyes snapping open in reaction; he
immediately regretted his loud outburst.

His head was now throbbing from the effort.

*I saved you the boringness of being locked up for days. Would you have
preferred to be awake during three days?* his father inquired meaningfully.

*No,* Luke admitted. He scratched his head and tried again to sit up. He
managed to push himself up to his elbows.

*As I thought,* his father commented. *We're coming up on Coruscant now. In an
hour, guards will come for you and your friends. I need your help to pull off
this part of the masquerade, Son. I have no doubt that Mothma has posted spies
nearby, or else she has means to know what is going on around me. If I were in
her boots, I would.*

While his father was talking to him, Luke slowly adopted a sitting position,
fighting his dizziness all the way through, then refocused on his father's
request.

It was obvious to him that he wanted him and Han to act like prisoners for a
while longer. *All right, what do you want us to do exactly?* he inquired
seriously.

*Put up a fight,* came the surprising answer. *The guards will have the order
to mildly stun you if you're raucous. However, to any spy, it will look as if
you truly are prisoners here. Warn Solo and the Wookiee to not push it too much
though.*

Luke, who was still gaping in disbelief at his father's order, fought to answer
him in a coherent way. *Huh... Okay. What about Leia?* he then asked in worry.

*She's stabilized for the moment, but she hasn't woken up yet,* his father told
him briefly. *Once we will be alone, I will allow you and your friends to see
her.*

*I'll tell that to Han, then. It will motivate him to not give you too much
trouble.*

*I believe so too. I'll see you---*

*Father?..* Luke called before his father could cut their mental link.

*Yes?*

*Would it be possible to send some food our way?* he inquired hopefully. *I'm
sure that Han and Chewie are as starved as I am.*

At this very moment, thanks to his lasting link with his father's mind, Luke
felt something that he had never though his father capable of: Vader shied in
foolishness.

*Sorry about that, Son...* he apologized almost contritely. *I had forgotten
that you wouldn't get any food for so long... I'll send you something.*

*Thanks.*

The link was cut.

Almost immediately, a ration bar dropped from the food slot of his wall and onto
the hard floor of his cell.

Well, he sighed as he carefully bent down and retrieved it from the floor, it
was better than nothing.

******

Once he was done eating his 'meal', he contacted Han and Chewie through the
Force and told them what the plan was.

Throughout the mental contact, Luke felt Han's resent that was directed at his
father for keeping them unconscious. No matter how Luke tried to justify his
action, there was no changing his friend's mood.

In the end, Luke accepted that Han and Chewie were going to be truly 'dangerous'
rebels until they would be controlled.

While Luke waited for the troopers to collect him, he reflected that Chewie
hadn't been too hard to convince to go along with the plan. He supposed that it
had to do with the fact that Han had agreed to cooperate in the first place.

So, he surmised grimly, they were about to be taken inside his father's castle,
the last place that he had ever wanted to even have nightmares about, and they
were going to hide in there until Leia would be better and that they had worked
a plan to defeat Mon Mothma.

With or without Vader's help.

He shook his head ruefully.

He was definitely losing it since he now thought of his father, Lord Darth
Vader, as an ally.

******

The sound of clattering steps tore Luke out of his light trance. He opened his
eyes just in time to see his door open.

The imperials trained their weapons on him.

"Stand up," one of them ordered.

Luke glared at them but obeyed. One of the soldiers stepped inside and secured
his wrists in cuffs, then shoved him toward the short steps. The goal might
have been to make his fall face first in them, but Luke managed to retain his
equilibrium despite his shaky legs.

He was still very hungry.

In the corridor, Han and Chewie were already on their way toward the waiting
turbolifts. Han turned toward him, threw him a conspirator look, then he was
forced to turn away from him.

However, it had been enough for Luke to understand that they would act in the
turbolifts. After all, he too calculated that it was the best possibility to
attempt an escape; that was also why they would be separated in them.

The vicious push of a blaster's nuzzle in the small of his back convinced him to
walk toward the remaining lift.

Inside, the troopers kept their blasters trained on him. Luke studied his
options. He had to make this look like a real attempt, he reminded himself.
Thus, the legs would be the most efficient choice.

He waited for a sign that the troopers were less wary about him--- then acted.

He kicked out on the right with his right foot, aiming for the knee of his right
guard. He hit his goal--- but by the time he could turn toward the other guard,
he was already unconscious.

Or rather incapacitated. Since he wasn't unconscious yet, he felt pain when his
head hit the hard deck; he weakly yelped in painful reaction, then again as the
troopers kicked him hard in his unprotected midsection.

Twice.

"Rebel scum," his companion spat venomously as he nursed his knee.

The signal that they had reached their destination saved Luke from more hits.
They roughly hauled him up and dragged him by his arms toward the hangar bay.

Luke wanted to alleviate the strain on his shoulders, wanted to recover his
senses, but he couldn't; the mild stun blast hadn't worn off yet.

Thus, he was very glad when the troopers shoved him on the bench of the prisoner
compartment and locked him up.

When he recovered his more aware senses, he noticed the presence of his
unconscious friends. "Han, Chewie!" he called.

His friends didn't stir. He reached out to check on their status. They had
been sedated.

Mildly outraged, Luke called his father. *I thought that you'd said mildly
stunned,* he growled.

*I did, but your friends managed to kill a few men. The troopers made the
decision to keep them under for a while. We'll talk later.*

And with that, his father cut off their link.

'You bet we'll talk,' Luke thought darkly. He had agreed to play along with his
father's charade, but getting hurt had never been part of the bargain. His
father hadn't controlled his troops like he had said he would.

He then craned his neck and took a good look at Solo. A telltale bruise was
already spreading under his left eye, and he himself could feel some abused
tissues near his friend's midsection and neck.

Having nothing to do but wait, Luke decided to heal his friends as well as clear
the drug from their systems.

By the time that he felt the ship land, Han and Chewie had begun to stir.

Lord Vader didn't interfere with his son's decision to wake his friends up.
In fact, he even agreed with him that his troops had pushed it when they had
chosen to drug them.

Of course, he couldn't argue with the fact that the smugglers were
troublemakers, but a stun blast would have sufficed.

He turned back toward his daughter's stasis unit. Her face was covered with
bacta bandages now to control the pain, but unlike for regular injuries, he knew
that this treatment would not be sufficient to complete 'her' healing.

As he gazed at her covered features, he reflected that the disfigurement was
much too large to justify it by any other mean but revenge.

How much Mothma had to hate "the Soul of Rebellion" to do such things to her, he
reflected in growing hatred of his own. How much she had to hate the Princess,
who was everything that she herself was: intelligent, charming, strong, but who
was also so much more.

Unlike her evil counterpart, Leia had the gift of a heart as bright as the
Light.

Yes, he reasoned sadly, it was a fitting reason to hate her if the bearer of the
hatred had a heart as dark and cold as the deep water... a fitting reason to try
to kill this Light forever.

He sighed and rested his gloved hand on the glass cover of the unit, then
reached out for his daughter.

He was met by a swirl of emotions, blue, gray and white; ice where heat
usually was. The only flame that was inhabiting her at the moment was black,
burning but cold.

Hatred, he realized. Mothma had almost been successful in her goal, even now
that Leia wasn't in her claws anymore. The betrayal, the pain, the sojourn in
Arsharel's Temple, they hadn't gone unnoticed for the Princess's psyche. She
had almost lost her light, she had been eaten by hatred--- her hatred for him,
her father.

It was, he realized in slight sorrow, the only remaining stable point in her
life.

Even her love for her smuggler was ...corrupted; instead of being a strong
heat, it was barely warm---

And suddenly, he understood why she was losing her heart.

She was preparing herself for the loss of his love as well as the loss of
everything that she cared for because of her link with him; she was ready to
lose any trust that she had ever earned.

*What did they tell you, my lost child, these voices in the dark night?* he
inquired softly in her mind.

Surprisingly enough, she answered him. *My legacy is pain,* Leia's bitter voice
told him coldly. *My blood is poison--- you're the poison. You're the pain.
You're in me. I hate myself. Everybody hates you, so everybody hates me.*

Strangely enough, she hated him so much that she almost seemed to care for him
now. Then he realized that it was only because he had to be there, to be alive,
so that she could hate him, hence stay alive herself.

*Hate me,* she ordered him.

*I love you,* he answered instead.

*No!* she defied, her feelings flaring like a firework made of thousands of red-
hot stars. *There's no love.*

*I love you, child of my blood,* he sent her with all his care.

*You're lying... You're lying,* she moaned in despair.

*I love you, Leia. Let me help you,* he begged with her.

*No.*

*Let me lead you to the Light.*

*There's no light. There's no way. There's no love.*

*Trust me,* he entreated her, trying to breach through her moat and touch her
soul to comfort her.

*There's no trust.*

*I love you. Let me in your fortress, Daughter.*

*I hate you. I will not let you in, Father,* she defied him.

*Leia, please, I love you,* he begged desperately.

He could feel her slip through his fingers now.

*I HATE YOU!* she screamed angrily, then the 'door' was shut.

"Mothma," Vader growled lowly as he recovered his full senses, "you'll pay for
this..."

He needed Leia's acceptance to be able to help her. She would have to bear with
many operations; the Force healing, while not all powerful, would be of a great
use, but only if he could contact Leia's core.

He didn't want her to spend a year in treatment; not if there was a possibility
to accelerate her regeneration so that the same treatment would take only a
couple of months.

But he needed her trust to do so.

Even more important, 'he' needed her to trust him because he was the only one
capable of performing such a healing. Luke wasn't knowledgeable enough about the
very advanced techniques nor had he ever had to heal himself for months; he
himself had.

And finally, Leia's hatred was killing her soul; he couldn't let that happen.

He knew all too well that restoring her body would mean nothing if her spirit
would be lost. Someone 'had' to be able to make her trust again, he then
reflected earnestly.

Someone who could make her believe, that she was loved.

In the end, he understood that he would need Luke's help after all for who else
but her brother could reach Leia's soul?

The shuttle began its landing approach.

A trooper came inside the small medunit.

"We'll be landing at your palace in five minutes, my Lord."

"Excellent. Have the Princess transferred to my personal medcenter; lock the
others in the high-security cells, then you'll leave me alone and return to the
ship."

"Yes, Lord."

Darth Vader walked out of the room and took a look at the awakening pilot who
was in the prisoner compartment.

What in the Force had Leia seen in him? he wondered yet again.

His son seemed to feel his wondering; he threw him a quick look. *In time,
Father, you'll see him like we do,* Luke told him.

Vader didn't reply, merely shrugged his large shoulders.

The ship settled down on the landing platform. The ramp lowered immediately;
the dark lord walked down from the ramp even as it completed its descent toward
the platform. He took a moment to look around himself.

Located high on his castle, his private landing platform allowed a fantastic
view of the surroundings. The setting sun was once again glinting on the window
panes of the countless aircars that were composing the traffic lines while the
skyscrapers were punctuating the horizon with their elegant glories. Behind and
around those, the red-gold color of the sky was glowing, giving a special hue to
the sight of the bustling capitol.

He was home.

Curses and sounds of fight attracted his attention back toward the shuttle.

"I want to see her!" Solo was arguing, straining against the troopers' hold.

Luke was also trying to free himself, but he wasn't giving his troops as much
trouble as his friends were.

Vader noticed that the troopers were also about to hit his 'prisoners' again.

"Hold," he ordered.

Luke looked up just in time to see his father's gesture.

'Here we go again,' he thought--- then his senses eluded him once more.

******

Once his guests were locked up and that the troopers had left the castle, Vader
entrusted his daughter to his best medics, who also happened to be his personal
saviors if he could call them that. The first reunion concerning the treatment
had been scheduled for the evening. Until then, the medics had to properly
install Leia and stabilize her condition.

He, for his part, decided to free his guests.

Since he had no doubt that Solo would jump him the moment that he would be
awake, he decided to wake his son first.

He keyed his cell open. The Jedi was still unconscious.

A new sound invaded the Jedi's quiet environment; it tore him out of his torpor.
His first reaction was to start awake.

"It's okay, it's me," his father said from a position right beside his head.

The young Jedi slightly calmed down, but not much. He glared at his father.
"Was that necessary?" he asked him as he forced himself to a sitting position.
Dizziness once again assaulted his senses, as if in a repeat of his awakening
aboard his father's ship.

"As a matter of fact, Son, yes, it was," his father answered seriously. "You
are here, safe, and nobody knows the truth. Sometimes, the means are harsh, but
the end always justifies them."

"Oh, you think so, huh? You told me that we wouldn't be hurt," he complained
even as he rubbed his temple to alleviate his slight headache. Meanwhile, his
stomach complained once again from the beating that it had taken.

Vader tilted his head in what was probably confusion until Luke brought his hand
from his head to his stomach.

Then, and only then, a light seemed to turn itself on in his father's mind. He
set his hand on his shoulder as if in apology. "I'm sorry about that, Luke, but
I can't predict how my troops will act."

"Sure," he grumbled and shrugged his hand off in obvious resent.

As if in new apology, his father offered him a food bar. Luke noticed that it
wasn't the average, tasteless ration bar.

"Here, I thought you'd still be hungry," he commented in the silence.

Luke didn't hesitate. He took the food and ravenously ate it. His father
remained silent for a few minutes, then he finally spoke again.

"I can assure you that nothing similar will happen anymore, Son," he reassured
him. "We'll collect your friends and bring you to more adequate quarters.
There, we'll get you all as much food as you can eat."

Luke glared up at him, then softened and finished his food. As always, he
sighed in annoyance, his father was right even if he himself didn't like his
reasoning. As long as they were all safe and Leia was better...

He stood up by himself, feeling his strength return faster than the last time
that he had been knocked unconscious.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, looking up at his father.

"Yes."

"Don't knock us out again."

Lord Vader chuckled, a sound which really sounded weird to Luke's ears. "I give
you my word. You understand though why I did it so many times."

"Yeah, I understand," Luke nodded, resting his hand back over his painful
stomach. He'd have to take a look at that soon, he promised himself.

"Allow me," his father offered.

Before Luke could complain, the dark lord barely rested his hand over his,
focused on the Force--- and healed the bruised and broken tissues in less time
than Luke would've thought possible.

The youth gaped at him. "How?---"

"It's a question of practice. I'll show you, if you want. Now come."

Luke followed silently, too awed to do anything else. He had always known that
his father was a powerful Jedi, but he had never thought that he could do this
much. A new, true hope began to shine in his somewhat heavy heart: Leia would
be all right.

"She will be," his father agreed with his unspoken thought, "but it will not be
an easy task. The Force is far from almighty. Or benevolent. And, by the way, I
am 'not' a Jedi," he finished, sounding irritated by the word Jedi.

"Sorry," Luke apologized automatically. A second later, he frowned: "Why are you
eavesdropping on me?"

"I'm not. You're not controlling your sending."

"You can hear all my thoughts?" he gasped in disbelief.

"The Circle save me!" his father exclaimed in annoyance, "No, only when you
open yourself to me. You seem to have problems controlling your barriers," he
almost scolded him, but not quite.

It was more like criticizing, he admitted.

"You don't seem to know what it is," his father then observed, all anger gone
from his voice.

"I don't," Luke sighed reluctantly. "My training was .. fragmentary to say the
least."

Vader took a moment to consider this revelation.

"I have a rather complete library on the subject, if you're interested."

Luke meant to remind him that he would not study dark secrets, but his father
beat him to it.

"'Jedi' books," he specified. "not Sith, so no need to worry." He seemed to
smile ironically behind his mask.

"Thank you," Luke nodded ruefully, "Yes, I'm rather interested."

"Good. I'll show you in the evening."

To be Continued in part 8: Vader's Guests

Copyright 2001/2002, SJ and Tatiana (aa354105@econophone.ch)
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