SW AU - A Glimmer of Hope

[Gojirob]

A fully realized AU always means considering all the things that got changed, and you seem to have done that. I've had to consider, in another venue, what Starfleet's fortunes would have been like if Archer's era had included Kirk-like tech, and then Kirk's Picard-era tech. That you are doing this sort of thing means we are in for a good story.

I forgot to say above : with no regular influx of younglings, the Order would have to find ways to keep older warriors around, since accomplished Jedi are often known to become hermit-like even without downfall or disgrace. The debate about married priests in the RC Church comes to mind.

 

[CaptainSarine]

Chapter 5

Luke ran. He ran as fast as he could, ignoring the pain that began in his side, trying to outrun the questions and fears that had suddenly sprung into his mind. It was as if a thousand pieces that had been ready to coalesce, a thousand mysteries that had niggled at his mind for years had just been waiting for a single event in order to realign themselves into a clear, unassailable whole that made perfect sense.

His father was a Jedi. That much was obvious. There was the lightsabre, of course. But more than that it was the fact that he had bested the man Luke had seen on the floor, whose actions – throwing his father across the room – had proclaimed him a Jedi as surely as if he had been fighting a Sith. That meant his father was as well. Which also meant that, if everything he had heard about the Jedi was true, so was Luke.

Not really realising where he was going, Luke found himself running past the old Space port, long since closed, and into the warren of streets around Tyman’s Bridge, a nefarious part of the city where Luke had always been forbidden from venturing. He slowed, wondering whether he should turn back. Then again, he wanted to get as far away from his father as possible, to go to the last place his father would ever imagine he would go. This seemed to be the best bet.

Tyman’s Bridge was a nest of tenement buildings, gutted apartment blocks and modified ship docks, changed over time into clubs, bars and gang retreats. All around him, tabaat music, the new ‘sound’ that all the swoop bikers were listening to, echoed and mingled with the droning noise of swoop bikes. Every so often, blaster fire interrupted the music, but only for an instant – then the sound started again just as before.

Luke slowed to a walk as he entered the Bridge. He kept his head down avoiding the stares from passing bikers and petty criminals who were just looking for an easy catch. A few women leered at him as he past them, but he ignored them as well. There were a lot of people out in the streets, considering it was almost midnight, but he knew that this part of town lived to a different timetable than the rest.

He crossed to the far side of the street, keeping to the wall as he squeezed past humans, Rodians and Aqualish, and when he was sure no one was looking, he darted into an alleyway between two tenement buildings.

He stopped and looked around. The alleyway was narrow and ended in a metal grate that was covered in graffiti. The ground was so littered with rubbish that he couldn’t even see it. Boxes filled with abandoned clothes, food stuffed into bags that had long since rotted, letting the food itself spill out in piles that were rapidly decaying into manure. Luke picked his way to the end of the alleyway. He collapsed against the wall, allowing his body to slide down until he was sat on the cold ground. Then he dropped his head into his palms.

He couldn’t make any sense of it. Why hadn’t his father told him that he was a Jedi? What was he doing here? His father had always taught him about honour, courage, responsibility. But if he truly was a Jedi Knight, why wasn’t he out in the galaxy, fighting the Sith, holding the borders of the Galactic Alliance?

More than that, though, Luke wondered at what the other man had said. About his sister. Luke had a sister. She was out there somewhere. A cold ball formed in his stomach, like ice. His father had hidden her from him. He had kept them apart. Why?

There were too many things going through his mind. He just sat there, trying desperately to make sense of it all, until he felt the presence in the alleyway before him.

He looked up. In the night, he could make out two shadows. One was very tall, while the other seemed a little smaller than Luke. They were looking straight at him, and when they moved forward into the light, Luke recognised the taller one as a Wookie who sometimes did odd jobs for them on the scrapyard.

He scrambled to his feet. “Chewie? What are you doing here?” He wondered if his father had sent the Wookie to find him or whether it was just an unhappy coincidence.

The Wookie growled some garbled comment about payment, but Luke’s skill with the Wookie language wasn’t as good as his father’s.

“Did my father send you? You can tell him I’m not coming home. Never!”

At mention of his father, the other figure stepped forward. In the passing moonlight, Luke saw that it was actually a she, dressed in Sand People clothes, only her face unveiled. It was a beautiful face, Luke saw, though marred by a scar that ran down her left cheek. It was her eyes, though, that really scared Luke. Green as a Rodian’s snout, they were cold ice within. Dangerous eyes. He turned back to Chewie.

“What’s going on? Who is she?”

Chewie looked nervously from one to the other. It was the first real sign that something wasn’t right. He looked at the woman again. He had a moment to see something in her eyes, as if the cold fire had suddenly sparked a flame, and then he bolted, trying to dart past her. Chewbacca yelled, and there was a flash of red before everything went black.

***

Luke shrieked as he jolted awake. Something was wrapped around him, cutting off his breathing and in his panic he began to fight at it, tearing it as if it was a second skin. He ripped it off of his body and flung it away, a flash of red catching his eye. He was breathing in and out with hysterical speed, his lungs aching with the effort and sweat soaking his brow. He looked around.

He was in a room. Metal walls surrounded him, broken every so often by light panels from which emanated a soft white glow and, over in the far corner, a dark window. It must still be night out. The walls were bare apart from that, but a single door, exactly the same colour but slightly recessed, lay just in front of him.

Looking down he realised that he was dressed only in his white under shorts, and that he was sat in a bed. Around him rose four posts, reaching up to a canopy. There was a small table beside him with a lamp whose light was flickering in and out of existence every few seconds.

How had he come here? The last thing he remembered was Chewbacca and the strange woman, then the flash of red as he had tried to dart past her. Then blackness and the next thing he knew... he was here.

“Hello?” he called out tentatively.

Silence.

Luke jumped off of the bed and ran over to the window. He had to move past the large empty table that sat next to it, then he pushed his nose up against the pane.

He gasped. It wasn’t night outside at all. Suddenly the low thrumming sound he had been hearing, subconsciously, ever since he woke up made sense. This wasn’t a room. It was a cabin. And he was on a ship flying through space.

Terror gripping his soul, Luke darted backwards, a scream dying on his lips. His heart beat so hard in his chest, it felt as if it might jump out. He moaned. “Where am I?”

“Welcome to the Jade’s Fire.”

The voice came from behind him. Luke swung round, dropping automatically to a crouch. Stood in the doorway was the woman from before. Now, though, she was dressed in a form fitting red pant suit that highlighted her lush curves. A lightsabre hung from the belt at her side. His first reaction embarrassed him. She was absolutely stunning! She seemed to exude sensuality, her long red hair falling down to her shoulders like a wave over ivory shores. Her eyes, thought, stayed the same, glowing like ice.

“Who are you?”

The choked sound of his voice reminded him that he hadn’t taken a breath in too long. He sucked in a gasp of air.

The woman stood and moved over to Luke. She had all of the grace of a dancer, yet also merged with the poised danger of a hunting cat. Luke backed up as she approached until she had him cornered to the wall. Her hands came up and blocked off any chance of escape on either side. Then she leaned close and whispered in his ear.

“My name is Mara Jade. I am one of the Emperor’s Hands.”

Luke moaned. An Emperor’s Hand. The Emperor’s Force-trained operatives, an honour legion who carried out only the most important missions. They were a little better than full-fledged Sith Lords, but not by much.

Jade had pulled back and was now staring into his eyes. Luke couldn’t break the gaze no matter how much he wanted to. She held him with those cold, ice green eyes and smiled.

“What do you want?” Luke whispered.

Her laugh took him by surprise. It was an ugly sound, like two ice cubes rubbing against one another. “Me? I don’t want anything. My Master, though... Well if I can’t get Anakin Skywalker through normal means, I will have to make him come to me.”

Her whisper sent shivers down Luke’s spine.

“And besides,” she began again.

She started to stroke the back of his neck, her lips pressing ever so lightly against his neck. It was like being kissed by a butterfly. Then, he felt one of her fingers taking on a new feel, a harder, sharper edge. She kissed her way up to his ear.

“You are the son of Skywalker. Who knows what uses we can put you to?”

Searing pain lanced down his spine as the finger seemed to pierce his skin and tap into his bones. He felt his body go into spasm, unable to stop every muscle from suddenly going rigid. His back arched backwards with the pain.

Just as quickly, the pain turned into pleasure, washing over him like a wave that relaxed his body. He fell backwards into the Hand’s arms. He found himself looking up at her through a veil of tears. She looked beautiful and deadly, a smile on her face. It seemed almost as if there was a halo around her head, framing her black hair.

Suddenly, her voice echoed through his head. Her lips didn’t move, but he heard her nonetheless.

“You will be strong indeed. A fine gift for our Master.”

Luke knew she was right. He was infused with a sense of well being, and then the darkness closed in and he slept.

 

[The Badger]

Y'know, being captured by this version of Mara Jade might not be as much fun as you'd think...

Another enjoyable chapter. More please!

 

[CaptainSarine]

Chapter 5

Twelve X-wing snubfighters roared down into the clouds, positioned in a dagger-like formation around the Corellian Corvette Tantive IV.

Breaking out of the clouds, the descending starfighters found themselves faced with the glorious spectacle of the city-planet of Coruscant, glimmering in the rain. Strobe lights from the tallest buildings picked out the vague shapes of great towers and huge domed citadels, lines of air traffic whizzing between them. An Eruption storm swept across the city, and electricity sparked from the energy collectors that swarmed across the surface of each building like spikes. Flashes of lightning swept down buildings, the energy slowly evaporating before it struck the surface.

The commanding officer of the squadron, hovering at the dead centre of the dagger’s hilt, tried not to stare too widely at the planet below. No matter how many holos she had seen of this place, no matter how many stories she heard, it was still hard to believe it actually existed. A whole planet encased in a metal carapace, nothing but steel and concrete from one pole to the other. There were no farmlands, no forests, nothing natural except for the artificial Western Sea and the imposing mountains that towered high above the Imperial Palace. This place had once been the jewel of the Republic, the centre of freedom and liberty; now it was the dark, rotten heart of the Empire. She shook her head.

A message appeared on the screen in front of her, translated from the mechanoid bleeping of her R4 unit. She forced her attention back to the mission at hand. Reading the message once, twice, she quickly keyed the comm unit to the blockade runner in front.

“Tantive IV, this is Rogue Leader.”

A moment of silence, then:

“Captain Antilles.What can I do for you Commander?”

“Captain, we’ve got seven Tie Interceptors in tight formation headed our way.”

“That will be our escort, Commander Skywalker.”

Escort? That wasn’t the Captain’s voice. “What is going on Mother?”

”We’re on a mission, Commander. Let’s try and follow protocol, shall we?.”

Leia Skywalker winced. Why does she always do that? “Apologies, Ambassador. May I ask why I wasn’t informed that we were expecting an Imperial escort?”

Her mother’s voice was clipped. “That information was on a need to know basis, Commander.”

“Yes, but…”

“Just keep your men in line, Commander. I don’t want some hotshot with an itchy trigger finger ending this conference before it has even begun. Is that understood, Commander?” her mother demanded.

“Yes, Ambassador,” Leia said through gritted teeth.

The comm clicked off. Leia seethed. Her mother and her would be having words later on, she would make sure of that. Why didn’t she tell me? Leia realised she shouldn’t have been surprised. Things had been tense between the two of them since Leia passed the Trials. Leia couldn’t decide if it was because her mother was disappointed her daughter had not followed in her footsteps as a diplomat or simply because Leia had chosen to become a Jedi. She married two Jedi, by the Force. You would think she would be used to them by now.

They had descended down out of the atmosphere now, and the Rogues followed the directions being pumped into their flight computer by the Imperial Comm Net. Leia glanced down at the huge pipes that were racing along beneath them, zigzagging between buildings and across huge roadways, bridging the great chasms leading down to the lower levels. The pipes were used to pump water, energy and even food from the processing plants and they all met in a single location.

She followed them with her eyes as she nudged her X-wing into a sharp turn, keeping just out of range of the ion drive that lit up the back of the blockade runner. Though they vanished between two domed buildings a little further in front, they appeared again further on and slithered right across the surface to the looming Manarai Mountains – and in front of that Imperial Palace.

Somewhere between a pyramid and a cathedral, Imperial Palace covered the equivalent of a whole city district. Glowing grey-green rock and mirrored crystals created a constant glow around the structure. Leia knew that it had been built especially for the Emperor - it was a warren of ballrooms, suites and innumerable throne rooms. It even contained training rooms for the Emperor’s guards and specially designed chambers where the Emperor trained his own Hands. Legends abounded of Jedi artefacts hidden in treasure chambers, and that a secret transport system linked the Palace to every other site on Coruscant. Even from such a distance, the Palace seemed to exude a dark presence, as if the Dark Side of the Force had taken on shape and form. It seemed to be beating like a heart.

It made Leia’s skin crawl. What are we doing here? We should be attacking that place, not coming here to talk.

Her comm system crackled, and she heard a droning robotic voice instructing the Tantive IV to follow the ‘escort’ to a landing area. The escort itself was by now visible, the fighters’ bent, arrow-shaped wings recognisable even from almost twenty klicks away. Leia couldn’t help but tense and reach for the laser controls on her command stick, but she forced her hand down, trying a few breathing exercises her Master had taught her.

Following her orders, the Rogues dropped back slightly from the blockade runner and allowed the interceptors to form up around the ship. Still, they followed at a safe distance – even if she had given a direct order, Leia doubted she could have made any of her pilots abandon the Ambassador to these imperial squints.

The interceptors led the Alliance flight group to a large landing pad about fifty klicks from the Palace. The Rogues waited for the Tantive to land, the landing struts taking the weight comfortably, before descending themselves. As her own X-wing settled on the pad, Leia felt her heart drop. The sound of her metal landing gear on the concrete sounded too much like a trap snapping shut.

The pilots all climbed down from their cockpits as technicians from the Tantive rushed across the tarmac to see to any maintenance. Leia clambered down the step ladder, jumping the last metre, and was just tugging off her helmet when Biggs Darklighter, her second in command, stepped to her side.

“What the hell was all that about?” Biggs asked, worry creasing his scarred face.

“I don’t know.” Leia tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. A Jedi knows only calm. Mind your feelings.

“And what was that about a conference? I thought this was simply a prisoner exchange, like on Dantooine.”

Leia shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

The rest of the pilots were out of their ships by now, pulling off helmets and flight jackets. Leia could see the worry clearly painted on their faces – none of them had been expecting this. All of them were peering around at the landing pad, back at the tower strewn city behind them, and over at the ominous shadow of the Palace to the north. She could sense their anxiety through the Force. She tried reaching out to sooth their fears, but her own worries kept getting in the way. She could almost hear her Master’s voice in her mind: How you ever completed the Trials I shall never know? She smiled.

“Looks like they want you,” Biggs said, nudging Leia in the ribs.

She looked up in time to see Captain Antilles motioning her over. He was stood in the middle of a circle of Alliance guards, every single one with eyes fixed on the imperial cortege rapidly approaching. Stood next to the Captain were five figures. When she saw the tall male figure in the white formal uniform of an Alderaani prince, she tensed.

“What is he doing here?” she muttered to herself.

“Who?” Biggs asked.

Leia shook her head. Antilles’ gestures were becoming more and more insistent, so Leia instructed her XO to make sure that the men didn’t stray from the safety of the landing pad, then forced herself to walk across the tarmac to where the diplomatic corps were waiting.

“Commander Skywalker. Glad you could join us,” said Padme Amidala, eyes flashing.

“Just making sure the men know their orders, Ambassador.”

“And what orders would those be, Commander?”

Leia tried to focus on her mother and not let her eyes stray to the impeccably groomed Alderaani prince beside her. Lance Organa sensed her discomfort and smiled ruefully. Leia felt her cheeks burn. Lance had always had that effect on her, even before they were formally engaged. She favoured him with a cold smile. You could have told me you would be here. He seemed to sense her thoughts, but only shrugged.

Leia finally turned her attention to her mother. Padme Amidala Kenobi had been described as a striking woman her whole life. Leia could remember sitting on her mother’s bed as a girl, just watching her brush out her long hair. That hair now sat held in a tight bun behind her face. She frowned at her daughter, and Leia felt a surge of sorrow through the Force. Why? she asked herself. How have I disappointed you so badly, Mother?

Unable to hold her mother’s glance, she looked at the one member of the diplomatic corps she didn’t know. Taller than the others, he wore the black trousers and red shirt of a Corellian diplomat. His hair, unlike Lance’s, was a mess, yet he still held himself with all of the regal self-confidence of royalty. He caught her eye and winked at her. Winked! At me! She fought back a scowl. I’m a Jedi Knight, dammit, not some flighty princess at a ball.

“Commander?”

Realising she had yet to answer her mother’s question, Leia flinched slightly. Feeling her cheeks flush, she bowed her head.

“As you instructed, milady. They’ve been told to stay by the ships and wait for your return.”

Leia would have sworn she saw a smile tug at her mother’s lips.

“Thank you Commander. May I introduce the neutral party in these negotiations? Prince Han Solo of Corellia.”

Solo... This is the Crown Prince of Corellia? He looks like a nerf-herder. Still, she had to admit, he had a nice smile. Banishing the thought, she nodded to him curtly, then turned to Antilles.

“You needed me, Captain?”

“Yes.” Captain Antilles nodded for Leia to follow him. He led her away from her mother and the two diplomats, who were only just making the introductions with the Imperial representatives. He leant in close enough so that he could whisper in the young Jedi’s ear. “I know you weren’t expecting any of this, Leia, but I asked for you personally. What with the rumours of this new offensive, the Order could little afford to lose you, but I need a Jedi at my back. These Sith make me nervous.”

Sith? Leia cast a wary eye at the Imperial representatives who were rapidly approaching. Two of them wore the long white robes fringed in black that identified a Sith. Mind your feelings, she heard her Master’s voice in her ear. She reached out, trying to sense any disturbances in the Force. Nothing. Scowling in frustration, she looked back at Antilles.

“What exactly is going on here, Captain?”

“You will receive a full briefing tonight from Commander Horth. In a nut shell, three months ago the Emperor requested a new set of negotiations to replace the Corellia Accords. He has promised new borders and improved conditions for the Unclaimed Territories. This conference is with the Emperor and all of his Moffs. He has claimed no Sith will be present at the meetings themselves, but… Well, that’s why I need someone at my side I can trust.”

Leia nodded, though her mind was abuzz. The Emperor himself! “I understand.”

“I hope you do. A lot is riding on these talks, Commander. Your mother believes they may be our best last chance at peace.”

My mother believes a lot of things. Leia nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“I know you will.” He smiled at her fondly. “You’ve come a long way, Leia. A very long way. I meant it when I said I requested you personally. Now take care of your men, get them settled in and be onboard the Tantive at 2300.”

Now that that was settled, Antilles straightened up and walked back to the dignitaries, leaving Leia to stare after him. She wondered what exactly her mother was getting them into. No Jedi had ever been so close to the Emperor since Master Yoda fell at the end of the Clone Wars... Why didn’t Master Windu tell me?

As she followed Antilles, her eyes fell on Solo again. The initial meeting seemed to have broken up – her mother and Lance were following a group of white-robed servants towards the Palace. Solo was studying her carefully, and as soon as he realised she was looking at him, he grinned and winked at her again.

She felt a helpless urge to smile back. Calling on all of her reserves of Jedi training, she forced her feelings elsewhere. Pretending something was wrong with her cloak, she turned away, fussing with it.

When she turned back, Solo had gone. Leia breathed a sigh of relief. Focus, her master’s voice echoed in her mind. She needed to stay focused. This might be just the opportunity she had been waiting for. A chance to wander the streets of the capital, to see the Jedi Temple… To catch a glimpse of where her father had once lived.

Determined to make the most of it, she headed towards the other pilots. Business first. Then... Then she would have a little fun.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Hmmm...I'm not so sure that trying to have fun on a planet that's a Sith stronghold is such a good idea.

And the Jedi Temple still exists? I wonder how THAT works, with the Sith so close by...

 

[Gojirob]

Quite possibly, with its early veneer of respectability torn away quickly in this reality, the Empire could not move fwd with the impunity it did in the one we know. Also, with the Sith now a known quantity, their shadowy mystery is also gone, making them just another enemy, hence the relatively relaxed atmosphere.

Or, to quote the great Jimmy Durante, "Those are the conditions that prevail!"

 

[P0sitr0nic]

Nice, what with Han's royal lineage from the EU and all... I knew it had to be Solo before he was named.. xD

 

[The Badger]

Commander Leia Skywalker? Interesting twist. I don't know how this version of SW will play out, but I'm enjoying the journey.

 

[CaptainSarine]

Nerys

Thanks for the comment.

IE, Leia having fun... Well, what can I say, Leia is a Skywalker and a Jedi and a pilot... The mixture means she is even more reckless than "Prince" Solo was in the 'real' world.

The Jedi Temple still stands, but it doesn't still hold any Jedi. The Emperor has been forced to keep it, but he has used it as a major propaganda tool, trying to twist the history of the Jedi and the Sith to his own devices using it.

Gojirob

Like you said, and per my comment to Nerys above, the Emperor couldn't do what he did in our reality with as much impunity. The Sith aren't as mysterious, since the Alliance have been fighting darkside trained forces for the past few years anyway, so things aren't as shadowy as they are in the 'real' world.

Thanks for your insightful comment!

Positronic

Glad you turned out to be right. In my initial draft/plan, I had Han as the Leia character (Rogue Leader) but it didn't seem different enough. I like this version of Han, a very different person with flashes of the rogueish smuggler we all know and love!

The Badger

Cool that you're enjoying this journey! And yes, Leia has a very different life - a Jedi, a pilot commander... Makes you wonder how this Luke will eventually turn out...

 

[Gojirob]

Perhaps a diplomat, after two decades of dealing with his father's hair-trigger personality?

 

[CaptainSarine]

Chapter 6

Prince Han Solo watched the Jedi pilot walk away across the circular landing pad with the Alliance captain. He appreciated the view for a moment, a smile on his face. The sight of her tight-fitting flight-suit as she sauntered towards the waiting X-wings…

A polite cough brought his attention back to the job at hand. He turned to find Triad Amidala looking at him with a small smile on her face. The other Alliance diplomat, the Alderaani prince, scowled.

"Are you with us, Prince Solo?"

"Yes. Yes of course." He gave her his most winning smile. To his surprise, she winked back.

"Good. I would hate Lance here to have to shoot you for oggling his fiancé."

Han started. He looked at the Alderaani prince again. That explained the frown. He bowed his head. "Of course. No offence, my lord."

"None taken," Lance said. Han didn't need to be a Jedi to know the man was lying.

“And all my congratulations, of course. When is the happy day?”

“We have not chosen a date yet.” The Alderaani prince seemed uncomfortable. “It is… recent.”

It must be if my father’s spies haven’t gotten wind of it yet. He would enjoy telling his father this little piece of information himself. It wasn’t often he could surprise Jonash Solo.

“Still, I hope it will be a spring wedding. Naboo is so beautiful in the spring.”

Han turned back to Amidala, detecting a hint of sadness in her voice. Even in the wan sunlight that filtered through the thick clouds overhead, she was as beautiful if not more so than her daughter. Her white hair and lined face gave her beauty a striking note, like a rose blooming amongst the first fall of snow. Her warm brown eyes seemed to hide a galaxy of sorrow, yet she smiled.

A smile that turned suddenly to a frown. "They’re here."

Solo looked back to find the Imperial delegation, led by Grand Moff Tarkin, almost upon them. They were framed by the ominous bulk of the Imperial Palace, whose spires pierced the storm clouds with claw-like ease. Behind the Moff strode three senators in formal suits, two governors with their military dress uniforms and a couple of members of the Sith Council in their long white robes. The priests sent a shiver down Han's spine every time he encountered them. Still, years of diplomatic service for his father had taught him to hide those kind of feelings. He did so now, turning smartly and inclining his head to the leading Moff.

“Grand Moff Tarkin.”

The Imperial delegation stopped as one a few steps away. Tarkin towered over them all, his skeletal frame seeming to creak as he nodded to them. "Prince Solo. I trust you are well since our last meeting?"

Han forced a smile. Like every other meeting for the past three months, their last had been a neverending battle of wits as both men had tried to get one up on the other. Table seating arrangements, location of living chambers, even the colour of the Alliance delegation’s robes – it had all been discussed, rehashed, discussed some more and finally argued over. The ultimate decision had made no one happy. Politics. Han couldn’t lie to himself – he loved it.

"Very well, thank you. If would allow me to introduce..."

"Queen Amidala. Of course. No introduction is necessary. How lovely to see you again."

Solo clenched his teeth. As usual, Tarkin was trying to push him to one side. Not this time, Wilhulf. If you do that again, I swear I'll shove a blaster barrell up your...

"It's Triad Amidala, actually.” The former queen smiled and allowed him to take her hand in his.

"Of course."

Solo tried to introduce Tarkin to the other members of the Alliance delegation, but Tarkin only seemed interested in Amidala. He moved closer, neatly cutting Solo out of the circle.

“Or should I call you Triad Kenobi?” He smiled. Snake, Han thought. “The Emperor was most pleased to hear that you had remarried. To a Jedi no less. I trust he is well? We hear such reports of Jedi risking their lives in foolhardy missions into the Unclaimed Territories. I would hate to think that he was one of them.” An edge had crept into Tarkin’s words, one that Han didn’t understand.

Amidala, though, seemed to understand perfectly. "My husband can take care of himself. I’m sure he is well, the Force willing."

"Indeed." Tarkin leaned in conspiratorially. "I have to admit I've never understood this continuous obsession with ancient religions. We live in an enlightened age, after all."

"I'm not sure your companions would agree," Padme responded. Nicely played, my lady.

Tarkin looked at the two Sith with obvious distaste. "No, probably not."

“What about you, Prince Solo?” Amidala asked, forcing Tarkin to take a step back so as to include him in the conversation. “Obi-wan tells me there has not been a single Corellian Jedi since the War.”

Solo thanked Amidala silently. “No. We don’t have much time for esoterism and religion. We prefer complicated politics, fast ships and the reassuring sounds of a gambling table.”

Tarkin sniffed. “And Kessel spices.”

“When possible.”

“It has been too long since I’ve played a good game of sabaac,” Amidala said. She smiled at Han. “Perhaps you would indulge me while we are here?”

He nodded. “It would be my pleasure, milady.”

Tarkin interrupted. "I must tell you, my lady, that the Emperor has been looking forward to seeing you again. He speaks of you with only the highest praise, despite your ideological differences. He often tells stories of you when you were Queen – it seems you were quite headstrong. Why, just this morning he was telling me how the two of you fought side by side on Naboo.”

“Actually, I fought on Naboo. Senator Palpatine remained behind on Coruscant.” Well said.

“Fighting on the floor of the Senate, my lady.”

“Unfortunately, the Senate was rather powerless in that situation.”

“A fact that the Emperor moved to amend when he founded the Empire.”

Lance spoke up, his eyes flashing. “At the expense of the freedoms and liberties we had enjoyed for centuries, if not millenia.”

Tarkin turned his icy stare on Lance. “Freedoms and liberties your forefathers fought for in the Clone Wars, Prince Organa, but which you…”

“Have fought to protect against Imperial encroachments into Alliance space.”

“Encroachments? A few ships, no more.”

“I’ll remember to tell that to the thousands who died on Galatia.”

This was getting out of hand. Han stepped between the two men. “Gentlemen, please. This is neither the time, nor the place.” Both men took a step back. “Now, I’m sure that the delegates and their escort are all tired.” He turned to Tarkin. “I believe you have arranged quarters in the Commerce District, so perhaps it would be possible to…”

“Actually no.”

Han frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I sent a communique to your office an hour ago, Prince Solo. I assumed you had received it. The Emperor insisted that the delegates receive accomodation in the Palace.”

Han stepped forward. “That was not what was discussed.”

Tarkin waved his hand. “A detail. The rest of the conference will occur as planned.”

Fighting his instincts, Han forced his body to relax. He smiled. “Of course. Please. Lead on.”

Tarkin clapped his hands and three servants dressed in white robes scurried forward. They bowed low, their eyes downcast. "They will show you the way."

Han stepped forward, in front of Tarkin, bowing low over Amidala’s hand. “A pleasure, as always, Triad.”

She laughed, the sound almost a giggle. “How galant.”

He grinned at her, wondering whether to risk a wink. He thought better of it, bowing his head again before standing. “I will see you tomorrow.”

She smiled again, then turned to follow the servants’ lead. Before she had taken a few steps, though, a shout rang out across the landing pad.

“Mother!”

Amidala spun round, a look of shock on her face. Han followed her gaze to see a young boy – ten or eleven at the most – racing across the landing pad. He seemed to have come from the Tantive IV, whose loading bay was still open. A young woman scurried behind him, her arms flailing. As the boy got closer, Han saw that he had unruly brown hair and the most piercing blue eyes.

The boy threw himself into Amidala’s arms, squeezing her tight. “Mother, you said you’d come and get me.”

Amidala put her arms around her son’s shoulders. Han saw her glance at Tarkin and he would have sworn that he saw fear in her eyes. “Kie-wan, I told you to stay on the ship.”

“But I saw you leaving.”

“Only for a little while. I would have come for you.”

The young woman finally reached the group of delegates, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, my lady. I just turned my back for a minute and…”

“That’s alright, Elissa.” Amidala took a deep breath, then forced a smile on her face. “Gentlemen, I would like you to meet my son, Kie-wan Amidala Kenobi.”

As if seeing all of the people around him for the first time, Kie-wan shrank back against his mother, clutching at her diplomatic robes. He looked from one to the other. When his eyes met Han’s, Han winked at him and smiled. Kie-wan smiled back, then buried his face in his mother’s robes. Seems like a nice kid. A bit shy, but nice.

“I am sure we can find accomodation for your son at the Palace as well, Lady Amidala,” Tarkin said. “If we had known he was coming, we would have…”

Amidala shook her head. “It was a last moment decision. He was supposed to remain behind with his father but…”

She trailed off, a hint of disbelief in her eyes, as if she had said something she shouldn’t have. Tarkin smiled. “Off on important Jedi business. Say no more.”

Amidala nodded her head stiffly. “Shall we?” she asked.

Tarkin bowed, indicating with his arm that she should follow the servants who were still waiting. Clutching her son, the Triad allowed the servants to lead her away towards the Palace. Han watched her leave, then nodded to Lance, who smiled stiffly and followed the Nabooan diplomat. Holding back, Han reached out and grabbed Tarkin by the arm. The Grand Moff stared down at his hand as if it were some strange beast from the depths of the Western Sea.

"I don't want to have to remind you that Corellia has worked very hard to organise these talks, Wilhelm."

"And we are most grateful for your assistance, Han. Now if..."

Han tightened his grip. "It would be unfortunate if the Unallied Worlds were forced to take sides in these talks." He knew he was taking a risk using such a hard line now, but he needed to reassert his position before Tarkin tried to cut him out entirely.

Tarkin's eyes hardened. "Are you threatening me, Prince Solo?"

Han let him go, but kept his hand on his sleeve. "Just making an observation. If it hadn’t been for the Solo Line, who knows where the Alliance and the Empire would be today."

"Quite. We owe a lot. To your father.” Both men glared at one another for a moment, then Tarkin smiled. “Still, the Unallied Worlds have maintained their independence by remaining unallied. It would be a shame if you were to lose that independence because you decided to back the wrong side. Just an observation, of course."

Tarkin shrugged Han's hand from his arm and turned smartly. Han watched him go, unease settling like a lead weight in his belly. Tarkin seemed... too arrogant, if that were possible. As if he knew something Han didn't. Something that had convinced him he no longer needed the Unallied Worlds support in these talks. I have a bad feeling about this.

He needed to talk to his father. Jonash Solo, the architect of the Corellia Accords, the man who forged the Unallied Worlds into a force to be reckoned with and gained himself a throne in the bargain. He would know what to do.

He turned to walk over to the landing pad where he had left his speeder. It was a short flight to the Embassy and Han could have used the public transport system, but he took every opportunity he could to get behind the wheel. As he turned, though, he caught sight of the young Jedi pilot – Leia – talking to Captain Antilles, and he stopped. He studied her more closely, admiring her full figure once again. Her brown hair was cut short, framing her drawn, sombre features. Han allowed his eyes to trace the strong line of her jaw, down her neck to the slightest hint of her shoulder blades under the Alliance jumpsuit. If he had had to choose between her and her mother, he would have been hard pressed to say who was the more beautiful.

The conversation seemed to be coming to an end. Antilles said something in parting, then turned and headed after Amidala and the rest of the Alliance delegation. Leia took a few steps towards her waiting flight mates, paused and swung round. Just for a moment, their eyes met. Han felt a jolt of electricity travel down his spine and into his gut. He grinned at her and for a moment he would have sworn she was about to smile back. Then she seemed to realise what she was doing and she stopped herself. Spinning away, she began to fumble with her cloak.

Han headed for his speeder, shaking his head. This was not the time and she certainly wasn't the woman. A Jedi! He had no time for their hokey religion. Give him a bargaining table and a treaty negotiation any day.

And a blaster when things don't go my way, he added to himself.

Arriving at his speeder – a brand new Qatari 359 – he stopped and took a deep breath to clear his head of the tantalising ghost of her face. The familiar smells of the city-planet washed over him. The heady tang of speeder exhaust fumes and power collection overflow mingled with the foul stench of refuse gathering in the lower levels and the more pleasant aroma of spices rising from a nearby processing plant. Coruscant had almost become home over the past five years. Not in the same way that Corellia was home, it would never be that. But it was close.

Han shook his head again. He needed to stay focused. These negotiations might turn out to be even more important than those that led to the Corellia Accords. He had his father’s reputation to live up to. He couldn’t afford complications. Any complications. First, he would talk to his father. Then… Then he would try and find out what Tarkin was planning.

Still, he allowed as he walked away, she seems to have a lot of spirit.

 

[The Badger]

This is excellent. Well thought out, well written. The only way it could get better is by putting Leia in the infamous metal bikini. Though I don't think, as a Jedi, she'd stand for that!

 

[Gojirob]

Makes perfect sense that the Solos would find a way to rise in an unsure situation. Ditto that the Empire is not accepting the status quo. Palps was probably re-calculating his plans from the moment Mace and Anakin got clear of him.

Kie-wan's existence makes sense to me as well; less so Lance's, since I thought the Organas couldn't have children, but his L-name suggests something. I have all kinds of guesses, but instead I'll just let you keep telling this great story, but with one question : Does this Luke have anything going for him? It seems like Anakin might have kept him down better than Owen could ever hope to.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Interesting--but Kie-wan's presence definitely seems to have complicated matters. And it's interesting how Tarkin manages to deny the Jedi and the Sith despite their openness...

 

[Gibraltar]

Commentary on Chapters 1 & 2

So, the old Republic is still dead, fractured into the Empire and the Alliance. The Jedi still live, or at least some of them do, and that’s a telling difference in and of itself. That as senior a Jedi as Obi Wan is still out performing missions more appropriate for a much younger warrior indicates to me that these are still dark and desperate times.

Good to see Lando at the helm of the Falcon. Apparently, in this reality he’s better at cards.

Luke has had the influence of a father, rather than a distant and contentious relationship with an aunt and uncle who are trying to shield him from his heritage. One wonders how this has effected him, and what differences we might find from the Luke we all know. Anikan is embittered, and rightfully so, as he’s been physically and mentally scarred and his beloved wife is dead (or so it would appear).

You’re laying a terrific foundation for a very different kind of story here. Looking forward to more.

 

[CaptainSarine]

The Badger

Thanks so much! I'm glad you're enjoying this despite the absence of Leia in a metal bikini!

No, I doubt she would stand for it, would she? However, who knows what might happen down the line...

Gojirob

I'm so glad that this alternate universe makes sense - I spent a long time working out exactly how this galaxy would develop under these circumstances and I'm happy that shows and more importantly that it works.

I'd be interested to know what your guesses are regarding Lance... As to the Organa's not being able to have children, there is an explanation for that.

To answer your question - Luke is much less of a rebel than he was in our timeline, but he does still have the Force within him. How that will develop, though, will not at all be how it did in our timeline.

Nerys

Thanks, it is cool you find this interesting. Kie-wan will have a much larger role later on, for now he is a complication.

Gibraltar

Wow, thanks for this indepth commentary of the first two chapters, can't wait to see what you think of the others.

So, the old Republic is still dead, fractured into the Empire and the Alliance. The Jedi still live, or at least some of them do, and that’s a telling difference in and of itself. That as senior a Jedi as Obi Wan is still out performing missions more appropriate for a much younger warrior indicates to me that these are still dark and desperate times.

In this galaxy, the Sith are openly revealed, meaning that Force-able young men and women are just as likely to be found and trained by the Sith as by the Jedi. That means less people to train, but also means that the Jedi have been forced to relax their strict conditions in order to remain a force in the galaxy.

Good to see Lando at the helm of the Falcon. Apparently, in this reality he’s better at cards.

Or maybe there was no one there to win it from him...

Luke has had the influence of a father, rather than a distant and contentious relationship with an aunt and uncle who are trying to shield him from his heritage. One wonders how this has effected him, and what differences we might find from the Luke we all know. Anikan is embittered, and rightfully so, as he’s been physically and mentally scarred and his beloved wife is dead (or so it would appear).

Luke is still Luke, but yes his upbringing has changed him. He is much more angry and the secrets his father has kept from him aren't going to help things...

You’re laying a terrific foundation for a very different kind of story here. Looking forward to more.

Again, Thanks!!! Can't wait to read your comments for the rest.

Thanks to you all, so glad you're enjoying this little story set A Long Time Ago...

 

[CaptainSarine]

Chapter 7

Darkness found the city of Mos Espa hunkering down amongst the dunes for another night, like a great twisting snake. Tenement buildings gradually vanished into the shadows, lit only by bonfires and flickering make-shift lamps. Swoopbikes raced down the thoroughfare of Mos Espa Way, which had been full of people during the day. Labyrinthine alleys were scoured with blaster bolts or drenched in multi-hued blood. Walls crumbled as the wind blew sand through abandoned courtyards, each decaying, neither with any hope of ever being restored.

Mos Espa was dying.

As the wind swept in from the sands, Obi-wan led Anakin into the heart of darkness. Out on the fringe of the city, on the northern edge of Mos Espa Way, violence spilled out of every doorway. Yet Luke’s trail led here.

Waves of fury, fear and despair washed over Obi-wan, emanating from Anakin. How has he not fallen to the Dark Side? he wondered. Still, he said nothing. Anakin had only reluctantly accepted Obi-wan’s help, the Force’s help, in finding his son. The look he had given his old master as they left the junk shop, though, had made it clear that Obi-wan should stay quiet.

So they wandered the sinuous Mos Espa Way, Obi-wan following the will of the Force, his sense of Luke’s force potential strong. Their path seemed erratic, as erratic as the wanderings of a scared young man looking for answers. Inexorably, though, the path led here, into the dying streets out near the sands.

As they passed what had once been Jabba the Hutt’s city house, a gang appeared out of the shadows of an alleyway up ahead. Obi-wan drew the hood of his cloak close, hoping to get past without any trouble. Two of them stepped out into the street, though, human faces tattooed to ressemble a Zabrak. Obi-wan felt a surge of anger at the sight – even after so many years, after losing so many friends, he still felt Qui-Gonn’s death keenly. He smothered the emotion, allowing the Force to guide his words.

“Hey Grek, look at the old timers.”

“What are you doing out? Isn’t it past your bed time?” They laughed at the feeble joke.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Obi-wan said in a level tone, allowing a hint of the Force to seep into his words.

“This is our street, old man. You want to walk our street, you pay your way.”

Obi-wan sighed. These men were going to take more persuasion than he had thought. And he needed to be fast – he could feel the mounting frustration bubbling up in Anakin behind him. He didn’t want his old padawan to do something rash.

Using an old trick Master Yoda had taught him as a concentration exercice, Obi-wan waved his hand at the same time as he spoke.

“We’re not worth your time.”

The two gang-members’ eyes went blank. Both of them repeated: “You’re not worth our time.”

“You want to let us go, now.”

“We want to let you go, now.”

“Go away.”

They turned to leave. Obi-wan heaved a sigh of relief when a high-pitched rumble echoed in the street.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Why you turning away?”

A figure slid away from the shadows. Obi-wan suppressed a groan. A Hutt. It had to be a Hutt.

The newcomer’s words seemed to cut through the suggestions that Obi-wan had placed in the other two men’s minds. They turned back and Obi-wan could feel their anger blaze up, hot like a newborn star. This might get ugly.

Before he could attempt a more diplomatic route, though, Anakin darted forward. He moved much faster than even Obi-wan could have expected, grabbing a hold of the nearest gang member’s shoulder and spinning him around. One arm wrapped around the man’s neck, he ignited his lightsabre in the other, holding it a mere inch from the gang member’s face.

“Jedi!” One or two of the gang-members scampered straight away, but a few more – including the Hutt – stayed where they were, hands reaching for blasters, pipes and vibroblades.

“Don’t move or I’ll cut him a new breathing hole,” Anakin snarled. The gang-members allowed their hands to fall back to their sides.

This is not the Jedi way. Master Windu’s voice echoed in Obi-wan’s head. He grimaced. He had to do something before this got out of hand.

“Anakin, I…”

“Shut up! Now, we don’t want to hurt anyone. We’re looking for someone. A boy, about your age, light hair, dressed in a mechanic’s clothes.”

“We ain’t seen no stinking Jedi boy.”

“You think you can try your old Jedi mind tricks on us?” the Hutt whined. “No Jedi mind tricks work on a Hutt.”

“Anakin, we should go,” Obi-wan said. “This isn’t the way.”

Obi-wan had never known Anakin’s feelings to be straightforward. They had always been complex, as confused as the warren of Mos Espa streets where he had grown up. It had been one of the main problems when Anakin had been his padawan. Now, though, with the loss of his son, that problem seemed to have been increased a hundred-fold. To Obi-wan’s dismay, though, dark emotions seemed to be paramount. What if Anakin has already slipped too far? If only he could sense Anakin’s presence in the Force… How could he hide himself so completely?

“I seen your boy,” one of the gang-members, a three eyed Gran, said out of the blue, returning Obi-wan to the here and now. “He came through here.”

Anakin looked to Obi-wan. Grimacing, the Jedi Master reached out with his senses. The Gran seemed to be telling the truth. He sensed fear and anger, but no deceit. He looked back at Anakin, nodding.

“Where did he go?”

The Gran pointed down a side street. “That way. I saw him head into an alley a little way down. Then he left with a streetwalker.”

A streetwalker? He looked at Anakin whose eyes blazed. “What are you talking about?”

“She was all dressed in leather,” the Gran leered. “With bright red hair.”

Obi-wan felt a lance of hot ice down his spine. No. No, it can’t be. What if they were already too late? He stifled the sudden surge of fear, but he could not keep the urgency from his voice.

“Anakin, we need to go.”

Anakin sensed the urgency in his friend’s voice. He nodded. “Alright, we’re going to leave now. Any of you want to follow us, just remember who you’re facing. We can sense you coming before you even think about it. You got me?”

Those who remained nodded. Obi-wan doubted the threat would stop them for long. They’d fall back, regroup, then come after them. Pride demanded it. If only Anakin had let me handle things… Still, if Obi-wan was right, they wouldn’t need much time. Force, let me be wrong.

Anakin let the gang-member go and he scurried off to join his friends. As Obi-wan had expected, they pulled back into the shadows. He could feel their eyes on them as they passed on down the street. A few minutes, maybe a little more.

“We’d better hurry,” Obi-wan said.

Anakin just nodded.

Quickening their pace, they reached the alleyway that the Gran had indicated. Obi-wan reached out with his senses. As he had feared, he felt the presence of the Dark Side. A Sith had been here. Recently. He reached out and grabbed Anakin’s shoulder.

“The Dark Side.”

Anakin’s eyes widened. He tore himself away from his former master and ran into the alleyway. Pulling back his cloak, Obi-wan followed him, hand hovering near his lightsabre in case he needed it.

When he saw his old friend crouched on the floor, a figure cradled in his arms, Obi-wan feared the worst. Taking a step forward, though, he saw a furry paw in the light from the streetlamps behind him. A Wookie?

“Chewbacca? What happened?” Anakin was asking.

Obi-wan took a few more steps forward. As he drew closer, he saw that there was little blood. The sight of the two cleanly severed stumps at the end of both arms and the cauterised lightsabre wounds that punctured the heart and lungs confirmed his fears. He reached out with his senses nevertheless, allowing the Force to guide him. Years of tracking Sith-trained operatives throughout worlds along the Solo Line had honed his ability to sense the Dark Side into a fine art. Whoever had been here was gone now. So was Luke.

Anakin seemed oblivious to the signs, though. Can’t he sense the presence of the Dark Side? Could he be so far gone? “Anakin,” he whispered.

Anakin looked up at him, then followed his gaze to the Wookie’s chest. When he saw the wounds, his eyes widened.

“Chewbacca. Who did this to you?”

The Wookie groaned. At least so it seemed to Obi-wan until Anakin spoke.

“What did she look like?”

She? Of course, the streetwalker. Red hair. It had to be her. The Red Lady. The Emperor’s favored Hand. He was about to tell Anakin what he suspected when the Wookie spoke again. Anakin stiffened.

“What did she do to Luke?”

Obi-wan felt a surge of anger rise from his friend as the Wookie grunted and growled, struggling to tell Anakin what he had seen. The poor creature’s words trailed off into a wracking cough before he could finish, though. The cough faded into a dull choking sound as the Wookie’s lungs filled with blood. Before either man could do anything, the Wookie took a final, rattling breath and went still.

The two men remained still for a moment, the silence growing between them. Obi-wan couldn’t believe this had happened. This wasn’t what he had planned. He had been sure that he would be able to convince Anakin to come back, to help. Instead, he had allowed his friend’s son to be taken by a Sith. A Sith and the son of Skywalker. The Son of…

Like a bolt of lightning out of a clear blue sky, he had it. Obi-wan’s blood ran cold. Master Yoda. The Prophecy. A Sith and the Son of Skywalker. By the Force, Master Yoda’s prophecy. The prophecy is coming true. Oh Anakin!

Anakin’s voice cut through his reverie. His old friend had stood up, laying Chewbacca’s body on the ground at his feet.

“Where will she take him?” he asked.

“Anakin, I…”

“Where?" Anakin cut him off.

"Coruscant, I would imagine." Obi-wan resigned himself.

"Palpatine."

Obi-wan could only nod.

Anakin thought about what Obi-wan had said for a few moments, then came to a decision.

"You're coming with me."

He started to push past his old friend. Obi-wan reached out a hand to grab him, to reason with him.

"Anakin, no I..."

Anakin swung round so fast that Obi-wan didn't even have time to react to the oncoming fist. He found himself on the ground all of a sudden, his chin throbbing, blood on his lips.

"You owe me, old man. This is all your fault. Now my boy is gone and..."

Grief flooded Obi-wan's senses, wave after wave. Anakin saw it reflected in his eyes and turned away, as if he could hide his feelings. Obi-wan sensed Anakin’s struggle – guilt and despair warring for control with anger and his need to save his son. Slowly, his love for his son won out, even over his anger at Obi-wan. His shoulders slumped.

"Please help me, Obi-wan. I can't do this without you. You're my only hope of getting to Palpatine before he turns my boy."

Again grief flooded through Obi-wan's mind, but this time it was all his own. I don't have a choice. May the Force forgive me Padme. I don't have a choice.

 

[USS Avenger]

Ah, the "help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope" moment! As others have said, a very well thought out AU. I am looking forward to seeing where you take us with this.

 

[CaptainSarine]

USS Avenger

Thanks so much! Glad you're enjoying this. And I'm so glad you picked up on the 'Help me Obi-wan' reference, when I posted this over at TheForce.net no one did!

More soon

 

[Gojirob]

You knew Chewie was gone from the Mara Jade sequence, but it still hit home hard. I think perhaps Obi-Wan may misunderstand Anakin's rage; I'm beginning to think he withdrew not merely in a snit or out of jealousy, but because he feared his own rage and becoming a tool of Palpatine again.
I now fear that the ending of this will be

Spoiler: my guess

a replay of ROTS, with Anakin as Mace, and confused angry Luke as Anakin

.

Keep it up!