Power Lust
Part 8: Vader's Guests
By SJ and Tatiana 09-05-00/13-04-01
Suggested and co-written with Tatiana (aa354105@econophone.ch)

_____________________________
Disclaimers: None of those characters belong to me. See my
front page for more details. (http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/3702)

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 :)

Also, special thanks to my shy, secret beta-reader and best friend, Adrianne,
for her help with the final editing of my new stories. I appreciate :)
_________________________________

They approached the other cells. Vader keyed the left-most door open then
turned back toward his son. "I think that you should take care to wake them
up," he commented seriously. "I doubt that Solo will be happy to see me."

"Okay," Luke nodded in agreement as he took a food bar from his father's offered
hand, then walked away from his side and into the opened cell.

Silently, he went down the short steps that were so typical to imperial cells.
As he set his foot down on the last one, he dimly wondered which purpose they
served other than tripping their prisoners on the way in or out, then surmised
that it was probably their sole utility. He turned around and closed the door
that was behind him to prevent his father from hearing what he and Han would say
before joining him outside. Next, he walked up to Han's side, then finally
pushed a slight jolt of adrenaline into his friend's system.

Han stirred.

"Han, it's Luke, can you hear me?"

Solo groaned. "Hmm, what's wrong, Kid..."

"Nothing's wrong," he smiled in slight amusement. "Only that nap time is over."

Solo grumbled something and turned on his side, obviously settling in to sleep
for a while longer. "Go away, Luke...," he barely mumbled. "Get some more
sleep."

For a very brief moment, Luke could only gape at his friend in confusion.
Sleep?.., how could Han think..? Then he understood. His father had put Han to
sleep while he had knocked 'him' unconscious.

Suddenly aware that his father was deliberately walking on eggshells around Han,
he shook his head in amusement. His father, although a cold Dark Lord of the
Sith, didn't want to anger the smuggler because of his relationship with his
children, and yet, Luke smirked to himself, Vader didn't feel 'that' well-
disposed toward Han either also 'because' of that same relationship with them.

Sooner or later, he promised himself, his father and Han would have to have a
serious talk to get to know each other better. He refocused on his sleeping
friend. "Han, come on, wake up. You want to see Leia, don't you?" he offered
the slumbering man.

That did rouse the pilot. "Leia?" he asked, leaning up on his elbow while
rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Where is---" His friend's eyes suddenly bulged as
he took stock of their whereabouts. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked,
completely awake now even as he sat bolt upright on his pallet.

"We're in Vader's palace, remember?" Luke supplied soothingly. "Leia's been
brought to his personal medcenter and we can now see her whenever we're ready."

"What about us?" Solo asked, standing to his feet, now completely awake.

Luke answered him by offering him the food bar; the moment that the pilot
identified what he was given, he tore it open and ate it twice as fast as Luke
had.

"We're free from our cells," the young Jedi informed him while he waited for him
to finish his meal. "At the moment, Vader's waiting for you and Chewie to come
out before showing us where we'll live while we'll be here."

"What has he done to us after the landing?" Solo asked angrily as he crumpled
the already empty package and threw it in a corner of his cell.

Luke gave him a wry smile. "He put us to sleep," he half-lied, aware that Han
wouldn't react well to the news that his father had knocked 'him' unconscious
again. "Shall we?" he asked his friend, inviting him to exit the cell.

Solo didn't follow him; instead, he took a strong hold of his right biceps and
stood almost nose-to-nose with him. "Wait a minute, Kid," he interrupted him
seriously. "What's the real deal here?" he inquired next, his voice dropping
from grim to distrustful.

"What do you mean, what's the deal?" the youth frowned sincerely. "It's like we
talked---"

"All of a sudden, you seem real chummy with Vader," Han pointed out dangerously,
not letting him go. "I think that you know more than you're telling me," he
then informed him grimly. "What is he up to?"

Aware that he couldn't try to sweet talk his friend when he was like this, Luke
relaxed to quiet his friend's suspicions. He knew that he had to convince him
this time or else Leia's safety would be a risk.

"Han," he began earnestly, "I give you my word that Vader isn't fomenting
any dark plan," he continued as soothingly as he could. "He is the only one who
is able to heal Leia, and since he knows that we want to be with her. he keeps
us with her but under his protection for her safety. That's all there is to his
plan. This, and Mon Mothma. But as far as we are concerned, we are his
guests, nothing more, nothing less," he finished coolly.

"And what about his desire to turn you? Do I have to remind you that---" Han
pointed out--- but Luke interrupted him with a sharp movement of his head even
as he locked his gaze with his friend's.

"No, you don't," he answered more coldly as he was once again assailed by the
memories of his own torments at his father's hands, "and no," he continued as he
pushed them back in the back of his mind, "he doesn't want this anymore. The
Emperor was pushing him to do these things," he reminded himself as he shared
this information with Han. "Unlike the despot," he continued grimly, "Vader
doesn't feel threatened by the existence of a Jedi. He doesn't have any design
on me."

Han's gaze remained locked with his for a good five seconds, as if seriously
pondering how far he could trust 'him', then he finally let go of his arm.
However, he still pursed his lips in obvious, if unhappy, comprehension.
"All right, it sounds true and good...Too good in fact," he muttered lowly.
"I'm not as convinced as you are, Luke."

"Figures," Luke shrugged mock-seriously to relieve the tension that was barely
laying in wait to resurface.

"Right... Jedi stuff, huh?" Han asked in a lighter tone.

"Without any doubts," he smiled more easily.

"Well I will still keep my eyes wide open for any treachery," his friend warned
him, pointing his index at him as if to add weight to his statement.

"So will I," he assured him, not showing any sign that he was worried about
Han's warning regarding Vader. True, he conceded, he himself 'would' keep his
eyes open, but he would also trust his father. He only hoped that he wasn't
being too naive once again... and that Han, for his part of their good behavior,
would talk to him first if he ever considered that something strange was going
on.

Or, he amended, at least stranger than three rebels finding refuge in the
private palace of Darth Vader, their arch nemesis.

"Now how about waking up Chewie?" he suggested to put an end to their actual
conversation.

"Okay," the other nodded and keyed the door open.

Waking Chewbacca up was Solo's job; while his friend tried to avoid being hit by
his barely awakened co-pilot, Luke remained in the corridor with Lord Vader.

"Chewie, calm down," the pilot suddenly billowed as he visibly ducked under the
Wookiee's swinging arm.

*I take it that he still doesn't believe your arguments,* Vader sent to his
son as they waited for the smugglers to join them.

*Why do you say that?* the child asked him almost innocently.

"What do you mean: where was I?" Solo asked again from the inside of the cell.

*I don't need to hear words to recognize signs of distrust, Son,* he reminded
him coolly. *Hadn't you had to reassure him, you wouldn't have remained inside
the cell for as long as you did,* he pointed out to him matter-of-factly.

*Well,* Luke uncomfortably shifted on his feet. *you must understand his
reaction.*

*I perfectly understand it,* he rumbled with just a trace of annoyance at the
thought of the smuggler with his daughter. *but frankly,* he continued, more
level-headed, *his trust in me is the least of my problems. The most important
thing is if he trusts 'you'.*

*Yes, he does, but he is asking himself why I seem to trust 'you',* the youth
explained with just a hint of irony in his voice.

*How have you explained it?*

*That the Force tells me that it's the right thing to do. A Jedi thing,* he
shrugged naively.

*A good explanation indeed, but do you really believe in such guidance of the
Force?* he asked him seriously.

* Of course! * Luke answered without any hesitation.

A silence.

*You... don't seem to agree,* the boy commented, his voice less confident than a
few seconds before.

*Blind trust in the Force can make you a monster, Luke.* Vader's words were
suddenly slow and measured. *The Force itself is immoral; it can guide you but
it can't make the decisions in your place. It can suggest the easiest way to do
something, but it's up to you to choose.*

*But the guidance of the Light can't be...*

*The Light is inside you, not outside,* his father interrupted.

'Like the darkness' Luke thought to himself.

*It's not the moment to discuss such matters,* the other commented, having read
his thoughts yet again despite Luke's best efforts to shield his mind. *Later.
Your friends are coming.*

Vader crossed his arms as Solo and the Wookiee came out of the remaining cell;
their distrust was more than obvious in their wary stances and looks. *If Solo
is to become my son-in-law, Luke,* he reflexively warned his son, *he will have
to work on his attitude.*

Luke twisted his lips in annoyance. Things would indeed have to change between
the two men. *Then it's valid for you too, Father,* he retorted, then prepared
himself for the outburst... that didn't come.

*Perhaps. But only when he'll show his real face. I can hardly appreciate his
current mask,* the Dark Lord commented half-scornfully.

Luke frowned at his answer. *Mask? What are you talking about?*

A small smile almost showed through the black, unchanging face-plate.
*Sometimes, you're amusing, Son...*

*But wha..*

*Later. We'll talk about everything later,* he told him with finality. *Greet
them; it's time to go.*

Luke sighed, then did as he was told. "Ready?" he asked his friends.

"Yeah, I want to see Leia," Han said, his eyes already locked on the dark lord.

Luke also noticed how his hand was twitching against his hip, as if hitching for
a weapon, he realized before he conceded that it was a good thing that they
were still unarmed.

"Of course, Captain Solo," Vader shortly bowed his helmeted head, as if in
cordial agreement, Luke realized. "In a few minutes at most, you will see her.
But first, something must be clear between ourselves." The cooler, much cooler
voice returned instantly. "Unless I tell you otherwise, you'll be free to go
wherever you wish 'inside' these walls."

"But not outside," Solo sneered.

Vader remained silent and turned around; he led the way toward the turbolifts
that were gathered at the end of the block. "Surely you understand the lack of
wisdom of such an act, Captain Solo," he finally commented seriously. "It would
be stupid to go to lengths to make your coming here look like it was forced,
only to have a spy see you free..."

Luke remained silent, walking beside Chewbacca while Solo sidled closer to
Vader, bunching his fists in frustration.

"Oh really," Han sneered, "and once we'll be free to go, that is if we ever are-
--"

"You will be, Solo, your Jedi friend knows that you will."

Solo turned toward Luke, who nodded quietly. The lift opened. They all filed
in, then it shot upward.

"So, if it is unwise to go out now, how will it be any different once we leave?"
Han cleverly observed. "How do you think that you'll make it safer then?"

The tension in the enclosed room became practically palpable. Han's tone grew
more dangerous; Luke kept a wary eye on his friend, ready to keep him from
making any physical attack if need be.

"I don't know yet, Solo, but I can assure you of one thing, all of you" he
added, gazing at the two other occupants of the lift. "Mon Mothma's little war
is about to end."

Luke, who had been closely monitoring both Solo and his father, heard Vader's
subsequent thought: 'And so will Jade's.'

Jade? he wondered. Who was that Jade person to summon such dislike from his
father?

He filed the name away for a later conversation. His father threw him a look;
he raised an eyebrow in answer, then shrugged. His father didn't have to worry
about his eavesdropping; he couldn't make any sense out of it anyway.

The lift stopped. Vader was the first through. He walked quickly. "Your
quarters will be on the same level than the medcenter," he informed them, ever-
so-coolly. "I thought that you'd appreciate being close to your friend."

"How attentive," Solo sneered.

Luke, who was now beside Han, elbowed him in the ribs and threw him a warning
look. "Give him a break, will you," he muttered.

Surprised by this request, Han briefly gaped at him, then frowned before he
finally shrugged and refocused on the dark lord. Behind them, Chewie smelled
the air, as if to detect any sign of danger.

*Thank you, Son,* his father then told him rather dryly through the Force, *but
I don't need your help to defend myself.* He stopped in front of a nondescript,
wooden door. "These will be your quarters. They are the best suite in the
castle and will more than accommodate your needs."

He invited them to take a look inside. Luke accepted the implicit invitation
and stepped inside. Chewie followed him. As he looked around himself, the
youth admitted to himself that it was strange how he could easily trust his
father despite what he had put him through in the past.

In fact, he then conceded, he now felt 'quite' safe in his presence and even
wanted to know more about him... All of a sudden, the Dark Lord had become
quite an unexpected puzzle.

He refocused on his surroundings. The living room was well furnished while
warmed by colorful tones of rich reds and purples. The coloring was slightly
darker than Luke's liking, but he noticed that it gave the room a very elegant
look.

It was also quite roomy, he added as he noticed the smile on Chewie's face.
"That'll be perfect," he reassured their host, reflecting that he almost had to
pinch himself to believe that he had said what he had just said.

He discreetly shook his head in wry amusement, then turned back toward the door.
Han was still standing there, his eyes boring into the Dark Lord's helmet.

"Enough dawdling, Vader. Where's Leia? I want to see her now!" he demanded
adamantly.

"She's at the end of the corridor, Solo," Vader replied, unconcerned. He
indicated a certain door. "My personal medics are preparing her. You may see
her as much as you wish, but only from the observation room."

He had barely finished his sentence that Han was already striding toward the
indicated door. Chewie was not long to follow him.

Luke, for his part, remained behind. He leaned against the door frame as he
watched his friends practically run toward the medcenter. "Well, he at least
didn't jump you," he commented mock-seriously.

"If he does, he will be the only one to blame for the consequences," Vader
returned matter-of-factly.

Luke shook his head and made sure that they were alone before answering the
other. "Father," he began seriously, "nourishing thoughts such as these isn't
going to help you forge a healthy relationship with him."

"Ah, my wise son," Vader snickered. "thank you for giving me a so appreciated
advice on human relationships."

Luke threw an annoyed look at him. "What I meant was---"

"That I must not decide what he is before knowing him better," the other
interrupted him, then nodded his helmeted head. "I agree, but I can't know him
better if he continues to wear his mask."

Luke openly frowned at this. "What mask are you talking about?" He was
downright lost when his father was talking in riddles.

"You must know it, Son," the older man slightly sneered. "The I'm-a-hot-headed
smuggler, 'the'-number-one-pilot-this-side-of-the-Empire."

"But he is the best!" Luke defended. "He's not pretending to be someone else."

"Really?" his father inquired very seriously, leaning closer to him in a fashion
that brought back Luke's memories of far-less amiable circumstances with his
father.

"Well," he hesitated even as he reflexively stepped away from the imposing dark-
clad man. "Not really," he admitted, suddenly worried about what his father
would do if he had the feeling that he was lying to him. "He is not 'only'
that..." he finally conceded as he remembered events that had allowed both him
and Leia to discovered Solo's true, caring nature.

A silence followed, then his father, who hadn't moved closer to him during their
quiet face-off, turned toward the end of the corridor. "Perhaps you could help
me to know him better, Son," he offered, all trace of danger gone from both his
stance and voice, which had, he belatedly noticed, never carried any threat at
all toward him.

"I'd like to," he nodded while he walked out of the entrance of their assigned
quarters. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet him?" his father asked him, inviting him to walk with him.

"It was a few years ago..." Luke began wistfully. "I was eighteen at the time."

And, years later, he could still remember those heady days; his first
experiences in the real world, and the Force, and Ben... He suddenly made a not
to avoid that name with his father.

"We were looking for a transport to Alderaan," he explained simply, deliberately
omitting the details of who 'we' was. "Han was there, and available."

"So you didn't know him before the Death Star?" his father inquired as if in
great interest.

"No," Luke shook his head in answer. "It was our first adventure together, and
an unplanned one I might add," he smirked slightly.

"Most adventures are," his father commented wisely.

Luke blushed upon realizing how foolish he had sounded right about now. Indeed,
considering all the experiences of adventures that he had to his credit, he
should have known better. "Uh, yeah... anyway, he was in it for the money,
nothing more. I got him into rescuing Leia, whom I didn't know then, and... you
know the rest," he shrugged slightly.

His father remained silent throughout the following steps. "Interesting," he
finally commented. "Do you know that you were reported as a team who had
prepared well for your operation?"

"Really?"

"Yes... It obviously wasn't the case. Psychological chemistry perhaps?"

"Psychological what?" Luke frowned, stumped once again by his father's level of
vocabulary and culture. He himself had been to school, sure, but he had never
heard about this kind of chemistry.

His father fortunately seemed to understand that. "Some physical factors always
affect the way two people react to one another on the psychological plan. I
guess you two have what is called 'bent atoms'."

"You mean the three of us," he corrected. "Leia's been a part of this too ever
since the Death Star."

"Yes, of course," his father nodded agreeably before he fell silent.

Luke felt a somber mood invade his mind. "What?" he inquired.

He was surprised to feel his father brace himself before he answered him.

"Can you help me to convince her to accept my help?" he inquired somberly. "If
she doesn't ... I will not be able to heal her and the treatment will be much
longer... and less complete."

Luke gazed blankly at his father--- until he realized that he had been staring.
He shook himself to regain his composure. "Of course, Father," he reassured him
earnestly, all traces of 'his' own fear gone now, "but how 'exactly' can I do
that?" he inquired.

"Make her see your love," he told him seriously. Make her believe that she is
loved and cared about despite the fact that she shares my blood. She hates me
primarily because she thinks that because of my being her father, all her life,
and anyone's love, are lost to her. Thus, it makes her hate me even more. Make
her see that the blood relations are not important."

Luke was shocked. "They are not?" he gaped. "I mean, you really think that
it's not important at all?" he asked in disbelief.

"For the definition of one self, it certainly isn't," his father answered
wisely. "She is no less Leia Organa because she's my daughter. For the
moment, she thinks that being my daughter negates her identity as Leia Organa.
She is wrong but this kind of thought is very dangerous for her mental
stability."

"I see."

"Will you help me?"

"You can count on me," Luke assured him, his devotion to his sister utterly
wiping away whatever misgiving he had begun to have once again in regards to his
father. "How long will you need my help?"

"For as long as she won't wake up. When she will recover her consciousness, the
treatment will be in its final phase, hence, less of an emergency," the Dark
Lord informed him. "We'll then be able to give her time to consciously accept
my help."

"Okay. What about Han? When will we tell him about the truth?" he asked him.

They were now approaching the medcenter room.

*You know him better than I do, Son. I will let you judge of this,* his father
stated. *However, it must be done before Leia wakes up. When that time comes,
he must have accepted her legacy or not be here at all.*

Luke agreed with him.

They entered the observation room. Han was standing at the window, unmoving.
Behind the glass, the medics were gently manipulating Leia's broken body.

"What are they doing to her?" the pilot asked angrily, suddenly whirling toward
them.

Luke hurried to put some more distance between his father and himself, thus
shortening the distance between Han and himself.

"They're preparing her for her next treatments," Vader answered coolly. "The
precise order of procedures will be set this evening. As soon as it will be
established, you will receive a copy of it. However, I can tell you that her
spine injuries will be treated first."

"And her face?" Han inquired worriedly.

"At the end only. Do not fear, Captain Solo," the Dark Lord tried to reassure
the worried smuggler, "Princess Leia will be completely restored."

As he studied the unfolding scene, Darth Vader smiled slightly behind his mask.
So many variables were detectable in the room: Luke's protective feelings,
Solo's very obvious anger and distrust, and the Wookiee's deadly readiness to
act if needed.

Yet, underneath it all, he reflected in dim awe, those three men were bounded
together by their love for the young woman who was on the other side of the
glass.

The last time that he had seen so much willing and boundless devotion to someone
was when he himself had fought for his then future wife...

"Han, she will be fine," his son entreated in the silence. "She will suffer
even less while in his care than in any regular medcenter."

As he watched his Jedi son comfort his friend, he conceded that it still
intrigued him how Luke, whom he had hurt and wounded more times than he could
count, found in his heart to trust him not only with his own life but with his
sister's life as well. He had, of course, noticed his slight reaction to his
looming closer to him while they had talked about Solo's mask. Even then,
however, it had been short-lived and quickly controlled once again until it
didn't show anymore.

By all means, he conceded that his son shouldn't have trusted him even this far,
especially since the past was obviously not in the past in the youth's heart...
And yet, he had.

He himself had to admit that he was glad that he had.

Never in his life, especially since he had found out about his children, had he
thought that he would someday have a normal, family oriented discussion with
them. He had also never thought that he would someday ask questions to his son
in the context of a normal, free discussion... not a forced one, and certainly
not a non-aggressive one.

However, what was even more surprising for him was to become aware that he
'wanted' to have time to speak with his son again, as Father and Son, nothing
more.

He refocused on the ongoing dialogue.

"Han, we can't go in there," Luke was trying to reason with his friend. "She's
fragile to any kind of infection right now; we can't take any risk."

"Then find another way. I want to talk to her."

The young Jedi shook his head. He was beside Solo now; the pilot had visibly
calmed down since they had entered the room.

"She is unconscious and will remain so while it is necessary" Vader answered
the other. "Besides, even if it were not the case, she could not speak with you
now."

"Why?"

"It would be impossible with her facial injuries," Vader explained coolly yet
without any details. He was aware that the other knew how far her injuries
went.

Hence, the pilot's reaction didn't surprise him.

Solo was shocked. And outraged. And...

And after a second of dumbness, he simply sat down. "I just want to see her,"
he explained softly. "I just want to sit by her and hear her breath. Nothing
more."

The mask was down, Vader realized. It wouldn't last for much longer than a
moment of pain, but it was at least down. Beneath it was the face of a very
worried man.

"Tomorrow, you and Skywalker will be allowed to go inside, in medical outfits,"
he reassured his daughter's chosen lover.

"Why not now?" Han asked, putting his 'mask' back on.

"Because, Captain Solo, she will be better installed and stabilized tomorrow. Do
not press matters. In this case, the haste will lead to nothing but disaster."

"So, you're asking me to wait," Solo summarized, his eyes grim once again.

"No. You have 'no other option' but to wait. Here, or in your room, or at her
bed," Vader reminded him. "You cannot do anything to help her now-- accept it.
Your childish displays of anger will lead to nothing, and certainly make no
impression on me."

Solo seemed to consider it. "Don't tell me what to do, Vader," he finally spat
angrily. "You're not the master of my life!"

"Oh but I am," he stated calmly. "Since you have ... accepted my proposition,
you've lost all control of your life for as long as you will be here," he
reminded him coldly. "Accept it. And quit these childish manners. You're far
too old for them," he finished dryly, his gaze pinned on the smuggler's glare.
"And now, if you excuse me, other matters are requiring my attention."

The Dark Lord turned and left the room.

Behind him, the rebels remained mute for a long, long while.

******

TBC in part 9: Darth Vader

Copyright 2001, SJ and Tatiana (aa354105@econophone.ch)
Webmaster : (skyjade@globetrotter.net)(Any positive stuff is welcome,
but any mean stuff won't even be read.)

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