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Apprentice

The third Tale of Miklinar

NC-17

The Star Wars movies, their universe, concepts, and characters are the property of George Lucas and whomever else he has licensed. My characters and concepts, unless otherwise noted, are my property. In case of dispute, Lucas wins, no argument. There is no money being made on this story.

Miklinar was in a much better mood when he told his third Tale. A group of his friends had brought blankets and picnic lunches out to where the atmospheric pilots were practicing stunts. He lost himself watching, and had to be reminded that he had promised to tell his next story.

"Mock combat. You need to practice, and much more so in air than in space." He nodded, his eyes locked on one particular craft. "They're good. I hope they're good enough, when the time comes."

Miklinar sat with his back to a tree, where he could still see the flyers.

"This Tale I call 'Apprentice.' It begins immediately after the Tale called 'Nasive.'"

     Vader probed Garn's mind. There was revulsion from Nasive's journal, but something more. "Ah. Not just horrifying, then. This will help." Three light touches inside her nerve centers, then a fourth that felt like a caressing stroke. The three touches brought her body to an unbearable sexual tension, arching her back, and Vader had to catch her and hold her upright after the fourth -- the orgasm racked her whole body, then left her limp.

     She gasped. "Why haven't you done that before?"

     "Do you want to be turned on and off like a light switch? This is too impersonal. I'd rather have my hands on you."

     Garn was on her way to the shower when a thought occurred to her. "You could do that anywhere. Even, say, in the middle of a meeting."

     Vader smiled, "Wouldn't it be rather conspicuous? As you gasped and wriggled?"

     "Is there a method that works on males?"

     "Exactly the same. Those were nerve clusters common to both."

     "Teach me."

     Vader shook his head, "And have you disrupt my meeting?" Laughter. "Later. Get ready."

     The meeting was boring, deadly so. "You win. I'll teach you the arousals -- you must discover the release yourself. Now, on that admiral -- here's the first arousal point."

     "Do they have to be done in order?"

     "No, but the results are more certain. Apply the stimulus, observe the outcome."

     One by one, each man in the room was touched. "Well, now at least they're awake."

     Vader agreed. "Here's the second point. Apply it to only half to judge your results."

     The officers had already divided themselves into two classifications: some were uneasy, some were rapt. Even after the second touch, some were uneasy. "Bring all of them to this level." Still some uneasy. "The third stage requires a focus. Do you want their attention."

     Garn thought a strong, "No!" Then, "I've had my fill of mindless attention for a while. Focus them on you."

     Vader caught each man's attention in turn, then Garn triggered the third point. The unease melted away. Garn observed, "For some, it focuses their sense of duty. Others target you directly. They aren't interpreting it as desire."

     Two subjects later, "This one feels lust. He's offered himself to me before." The trigger, and the man fought to keep his face blank. Three later. "This one wants you, Garn. Shall I derail him?"

     "Yes, please."

     End of meeting. Vader asked the two specials to stay behind. They obeyed eagerly. Garn reinforced the arousal, carefully focusing their attention on Vader. Then Vader showed her the nerve to touch for the release. One, then two. Each sighed lightly and smiled, with no bonejerking fireworks. "Males are more localized," Vader observed dryly. Aloud, "You may go now, gentlemen."

     The elder left, the younger lingered. "Lord Vader?"

     "Yes, Commander?"

     "Thank you."

     "For what?" Only a Force-sensitive could have told what was going on...

     "Was I detained for my interest in Lord Anthru?"

     "Not ... precisely." The last word was slightly hissed.

     "I would like to serve you more directly, my lords. If possible."

     Garn stood silent, studying him. Vader asked, "In what way?"

     "There are aspects of Jedi training, traditional and otherwise, best demonstrated on a sentient. Most of these are non-harmful, at least in any permanent sense."

     Garn, amused, "You volunteer yourself as a target? Absurd!"

     "To weapons such as those used this day? Was that a reward for your good and loyal subordinates, my lords, or just bored Jedi playing with the mere humans?"

     A rumble, "I instruct my apprentice, yes. Commander Wyscan, you are valuable to the empire as you are. Why waste such a hero as a lab animal?"

     "A hero, my lord? Scarcely that."

     "Few have your rank at your age. The right commendations come with promotions. Two such awards, Commander? Lucky and brave."

     Wyscan snorted. "I was young and a fool. This happens to a lot of us... Grand Admiral."

     "Hm." Wyscan stood while the expressionless mask studied him. "Why are you volunteering?"

     "Permission to speak freely, my lord?"

     "Granted." Garn nodded as well.

     Wyscan turned to Garn. "Lord Anthru, I believe that you killed a regional governor, some months back."

     Garn shook her head. "I was light years away."

     "A very old Jedi technique -- I saw the report. You beat me to him."

     That caught Vader's attention. "What do you mean?"

     "There was a girl. A Senator's daughter from Malibron." Garn's panic didn't show on her face, her pulse rose only a few beats. "I've found a termination order for Ettare, signed by the governor." A deep breath, "Did you carry out that order, Lord Vader?"

     "Ettare Calydon had a fatal reaction to being stunned. I had no intention of killing her."

     "You've used up prisoners before, my lord. But Ettare was doomed by that governor's word, unless you chose to protect her."

     Vader was watching Garn. Garn's expression was frozen. "Do you think to avenge her? How can you do that by becoming a practice dummy?"

     "I would have tried to kill the governor. I might have failed, I might have succeeded. But I would have died. When Lord Anthru succeeded, he saved my life. It is now his to use, or use up."

     Vader kept questioning him."There is a chance that the experiment will damage but not kill you. The military hospital could rightfully regard such as self-inflicted and refuse to treat you, or refuse to offer you constant care nursing."

     It didn't faze Wyscan. "I've earned it. Special provisions of one of my awards: even as a civilian, I am entitled to full military medical benefits for any reason, I paid that bill beforehand, in blood, my lords." Then, more gently, "I had hoped that if I were too damaged, you would simply help me go."

     "Grace stroke? Yes, that is possible. Very well. What is your current position, Commander?"

     "Local squadron commander, but my tour was scheduled to end in two weeks, my replacement's here, and my next set of orders have disappeared. I'm in limbo."

     "I see." While Vader thought, Wyscan gazed at Garn with respect bordering on worship. Garn looked back calmly. Silently, Vader asked, "Do you want him?"

     "Beg 'pardon?"

     "In your bed. He seems handsome enough. And he'll keep his mouth shut. He's admitted to us he intended to kill the governor himself -- that's enough to get him cashiered and stripped of his privileges. He's already put himself into our hands."

     "No. I don't want him in my bed -- I'm far from tired of the man who's there now. And won't his presence interfere with our activities?"

     "We only summon him at need."

     Something still bothered Garn. "You wanted to avenge Ettare? Why?"

     "I was ... fond ... of her."

     "Did she know you existed?" Garn asked.

     "Not yet. As a decorated hero, I could request posting to Throneworld. We would have met, and I would have courted her."

     "Did you expect her to be impressed by a pretty uniform?"

     Wyscan grinned. "I was going to offer her flying lessons, in a fighter simulator. Lord Vader, does it strike you as wasteful that the Empire has no female fighter pilots?"

     Rumble, "Yes. The Sith are not so foolish."

     "Ah? Interesting." Wyscan said something that sounded like the Sith Elder Tongue, but with vocabulary Garn didn't recognize. "But that's not enough, is it? Not enough of the blood, and almost none of the culture."

     "You have any? Who taught you?" Vader asked.

     "My mother's mother. She never told us why she left her world."

     Long pause. "The blood link is enough, if you choose to transfer. Unless you insist on being an experimental animal."

     "I will serve as you find me most useful." He knelt at Garn's feet. "Lord Anthru, instruct me. What is your bidding?"

     Garn drew him to his feet. "Go to the Sith. you will serve us well there." A faint smile, "It would be too difficult to hurt you now, anyway."

     "Yes." Then, shyly, "Once more, perhaps, the earlier gift?" Garn was confused for a moment, then she touched the four nerve centers in order. Wyscan smiled gently. "Yes. Thank you." He leaned over, whispered into Garn's ear, then straightened up. He saluted them and withdrew.

     "And what was that last?"

     "He said, 'Take care.' An odd sentiment."

     Amusement in Vader's voice. "He seems genuinely attached to you."

     Garn nodded. "He offered to die at our hands. And, even though you tried to focus him on you, he stayed fixed on me."

     "How much coincidence, that he was fond of Ettare and knew who to thank for the governor's death?" Vader was starting to examine the gift for boobytraps.

     "It's well rumored that a Dark Jedi killed the governor. You had shown no such tendencies, but you've recently acquired an apprentice of unknown potential. And you were angry at the governor for wasting prisoners."

     Vader nodded. "'Take care.' Fascinating."

     Vader and Garn. Garn had reviewed all the paperwork on Vader's desk, before and after Vader saw and annotated it -- she needed the crash course in his affairs, if she was to be effectively his aide. Most of his decisions were obvious. When she had to ask for an explanation, she listened carefully. "The rest of these seem routine. Why do they bother you with them?"

     "How many of the routine ones are Sith, how many Imperial?"

     "The routine? All Imperial."

     Vader scanned them. "Yes. They're all routine. Take care of them."

     "Yes, my lord." Trivial decisions on promotions, assignments..."Why do they bother you?" she repeated.

     "Bureaucrats are often cowards. Better not to make decisions on their own. Note the names -- you'll be dealing with them from now on -- they're yours."

     She smiled unpleasantly, "Should I break them of this habit?"

     "No."     

     Wyscan, a year later, after massive amounts of acculturation. The dark uniform suited him better, he stood prouder ... even walked differently. "He's become a flight instructor at the Imperial Academy."

     "I thought our doctrine was to strengthen our people first, then loan them out if needed."

     "He's as good a pilot, as experienced, but we have better teachers. We can spare him to the Empire. Ah. He's seen us."

     Wyscan broke into a run towards the two, came to a dead stop in front of them, and went to one knee. "My lords."

     Garn touched the top of Wyscan's head. "Rise." Wyscan rose, bowed to both Vader and Garn. "That was risky -- charging toward us like that. A well-meaning guard could have shot you."

     "No, my lord. No mere guard shoots one of us except for considerable reason, for his own health." Wyscan seemed happy to be with both of them. "Have you fared well, my lords?"

     "Perhaps not as well as you. Changing tracks seems to have suited you."

     "Oh, yes, my lord. I'm only on detached duty here, for a few months. At home, I fly twice as much as I did in my former branch, the fighters are better maintained, the company's brighter and more alive..." he was glowing.

     "And there's a woman."

     "Yes. One of the other pilots, with nearly as many awards as I have, is a woman I've grown very fond of."

     Garn smiled. "There's that word again. Do you love her? Have you taken her to bed?"

     "I think I love her. No, she hasn't graced my bed yet."

     Vader,"Are you asking to be transferred back home so you can be with her?"

     "She's here, with her unit. I'm seeing her. It's just not yet."

     Idly, "I see. How does your new home suit you?"

     "Oh, very well, my lord. I've discovered cousins and other kin. And they brought me through the antharaz."

     Vader nodded. "Excellent. We shall have to review the unit your friend is in. Arrange it. You will be present as well."

     "At once, my lord. This afternoon?"

     "If possible."

     Wyscan stepped aside to a commconsole. "In four hours, at the Academy field. They've been waiting for you."

     "And your current schedule?"

     "I'm on leave. I scheduled it to correspond to your arrival. I am entirely at your disposal."

     "Good." Vader turned to Garn. "The new fighters are here. You wanted to inspect one. Commander Wyscan will escort you."

     Flying had always been a joy to Garn. This new fighter was really hot. "Very nice. Production model or still experimental?"

     "They're in production, but I've modified this one. Come to my office, and I'll show you the schematics."

     In his office, the door locked behind them Wyscan went to his knees before Garn. "What's wrong?"

     "Nothing, my lord. I would serve you, that's all."

     She thought she knew the answer, but... "In what way?"

     Hesitantly, until she told him to speak freely, then in shadowy terms at first, then it became clear. He was offering to pleasure Lord Anthru, orally and manually, with no effort or return attention on Garn's part.

     "No," Garn said firmly. "Commander, get up." She helped him up. "Why? Do you think I can advance your career? Or is this still gratitude over the governor?"

     "Neither. I was hoping, my lord... why did you kill the governor? Private vendetta? Or some public good?"

     "Private vengeance. Ettare's father, Vandrey Calydon, did me a great favor, some time ago. His death was wrong." Garn's face was hard.

     "That great a favor?"

     "Yes."

     "You knew the man well?"

     "Not as well as I should have. One never does." A far look in her eyes.

     "Did you meet his daughter?"

     Curtly, "Yes."

     "Are you her kinsman?"

     "Distantly, being a human Jedi. Through her mother. I'm no kin to Calydon." Sharply, "Why do you ask?"

     "You look a bit like her, in certain lights. I hear you're Lord Vader's medic as well."

     This was starting to sound like a threat to Garn's identity, but the Maker knew she didn't want to kill this man. "Do you have a conclusion?"

     "There was a young man, with a faint resemblance to Ettare. Vader needed a student. He had Ettare, a prisoner. I think he somehow melded the two together, using Ettare's drive and knowledge. Did Garn go to medical school?"

     "I have the memories and the documents."

     "And you can pilot too, just like her."

     Garn shook her head. "This theory of yours is ridiculous. My memories are mine, save for some Lord Vader gave me directly." A short laugh. "Why are you offering me sex?"

     "I see Ettare in you. Your identity... is under no threat from me. I'll tell no one. But... how much of Ettare is in there, modified by Vader for his use?"

     "Modified for what?"

     "To be his aide, his student, eventually his heir. Are you his lover?"

     "I'm not Lord Vader's heir."

      "At home, they call you such. When my family found out I had met you, they were full of questions. And it was always 'Lord Vader's Heir, Garn Anthru.' Very odd, that you not know." A silence, "But the other roles?"

     "Aide, student, yes. Lover..." Garn smiled. "He is my 'noble protector.'"

     "You belong to him, and hands off? I hadn't considered that. Should I look to my back?"

     A faint smile. "If , when I say 'Go away,' you go, you're in no danger."

     Wyscan nodded. "And it's 'Go away.'"

     "Listen well." Dead serious. "I like you. There may be some time in the future when I will ask for your attentions. But I will ask you. Until them, I am Lord Vader's in all things, and, even if that should change, you will wait for me to ask."

     Solemnly, "I understand." He dropped to his knees again. This time his hands were inside Garn's as he spoke the full oath of fealty, in the Sith Elder Tongue. "This I swear, to the Lord Vader who will be."

     Garn sighed. "I can't accept that oath." Wyscan looked puzzled. "Lord Vader never told me I'm his heir."

     "Ah. Would you take my oath as Lord Anthru?"

     "Yes."

     "Then I will swear." The oath this time to Lord Garn Anthru, which Garn accepted.

     "If I ever become Lord Vader's heir, we can renew your oath. But even were I his heir, I would not wish to inherit except after many years."

     "May the gods so will it indeed..." Wyscan rose, his hands still within Garn's. "Command me, my lord."

     Garn smiled. "Tell me about the difference between Imperial service and the Sith."

     Wyscan thought about it. "Less backstabbing. More dedication. There's almost no drinking and drugging -- they don't find anesthetizing yourself acceptable. The squadrons are mixed-gender, so the sex is different."

     Garn laughed, "I would hope so."

     "The Sith don't use it for power."

     "I see. Tell me about your girlfriend."

     Now it was Wyscan's turn to smile. "She's beautiful, she's smarter than I am, and a better pilot. I've asked my family to talk to hers."

     "You're offering to marry her, but haven't bedded her?"

     "Bad timing so far. I saved my leave for your return, but she'll get a good part of it as well."

     Garn shook her head. "Oh, better than that. Her name?"

     "Lieutenant Elegry. Squadron Seven-three-four."

     Commconsole. Garn authorized a week of leave for Lieutenant Elegry, starting the next day. "Where is the Lieutenant now?"

     "At the field. Do you wish to speak to him, my lord? His squadron has just turned in its equipment."

     "Yes."

     A moment, then, "Yes, sir?"

     "Your presence is requested at Commander Wyscan's office, as soon as reasonably possible."

     "I'll be finished here in about ten minutes, unless you need me sooner. Five minutes to get there. Is that convenient?"

     "Yes. Fifteen minutes, then." Comm off. "It's interesting. I'm only a lieutenant myself, you know."

     Wyscan laughed. "Your nominal rank is lieutenant, but first, it's in Security; second, you are the voice and the hand of Lord Vader, who has the rank of Grand Admiral. Then, you are a Sith lord, as he is. Do you know that Lord Vader is system viceroy for the Sith world and environs?"

     Garn shook her head. "I wasn't sure. He gets messages from the ruling council, but it's difficult to tell whether his replies are suggestions or orders."

     "With a good regency council, only major policy needs his direct input. Now, if you are his heir, you see your rank among us."

     "'Voice and hand'? I don't think..."

     "Then what just happened? When you called the squadron? 'This is Lord Anthru. I want this and this and this. Thank you.' Do you have the authority to bestow leave on another lieutenant?"

     "I ... see. What do you think happened?"

     "You identified yourself, they called up your authorization. They saw that you are directly attached to Vader, and went no further. If you are not his voice, you still have his ear. Your wishes are ... expedited."

     Garn looked amused. "A polite term for people falling over backwards to do what I ask. I suppose that's power."

     "All that power means is getting what you want. You could use wealth, rank, influence, or Jedi tricks. Now, influence is a complex thing. It can be favors traded, fear, or even charm. Or prestige." Wyscan grinned. "That's one thing that my medals are good for. People like heroes. They hope the luck will rub off, I think."

     Garn left before Lieutenant Elegry got there. "I'll see her later. This time is for you."

     Garn worked through a stack of what was now her paperwork. "My lord?"

     Vader was studying a report, drumming his fingertips. "Yes?"

     "Am I your heir?"

     "Yes." No elaboration, not even a pause in the reading.

     "'Yes?' Just 'Yes?' Were you going to tell me?"

     "It was in your identity packet." Vader turned to her. "Why are you upset?"

     "I'll give you the least complicated reason first: I'm more of a target than I thought I was."

     "Would you have been any more careful had you known?"

     "No. I don't think I could."

     "Well, then." Vader turned off the viewer. "The Emperor hasn't confirmed you yet. On the local side, my holdings as head of House Vader, you've been my heir since you became Garn Anthru." He rose, moved her in to his seat, accessed the file. "Read."

     She stopped. "Who was Garn? Was he someone who died, whose place I filled?"

     "Garn Anthru was a phantom, a game I played with my own Security." Pensively, "He was my son, who never existed."

     "Your imagined son." Then the question she wasn't sure she wanted answered, the one whose answer she knew. "The mother?"

     "Elia. Elia Sethon. No, your papers don't say that. That part of the construct was never put on the datalink -- it would have caused ... complications. But he was my imaginary son with Elia."

     "An opportunity too good to neglect, when I arrived." Turning to the commconsole, she looked over her "history." "Adopted son. Why no name change? Why am I 'Anthru'?"

     "Once you're legally adult, you can choose."

     "Twenty-four standard years. You've got a little while."

     "Why is it set so high?"

     "By now, it's mostly ritual. Originally, you had to be of age and with a mate who was of age."

     "Whoa. Divorce, widowing?"

     "Singles, any age, any reason, was under the hand of their family. Read 'The Winter King'. The king lost his mate, and there were no adults of his house alive to arrange another marriage for him. He lost his throne, and almost his life." Garn looked dubious. "That's changed, obviously."

     "Or you have a wife at home that I don't know about."

     Vader sighed. "No, just a bitchy aide who won't let me get my work done. Now, what stirred this up?"

     "Wyscan. He called me your heir."

     "I hope you didn't correct him." Silence. "You did. Not good."

     "He told me the Sith refer to me that way."

     "Yes. That was the delicate part -- to introduce you as mine without having to explain where you had been. The official story is 'adopted son.' The unofficial story is 'trueson by an offworlder.' Even if the Sith would prefer that your mother were from among them, as long as I claim you and you behave properly, they'll accept you."

     Garn thought it over. The prospect of learning another set of behaviors was daunting. "Behave properly?"

     "Like a responsible officer. You're satisfactory, right now." Vader checked the schedule. "In four hours, you will attend a review of fighter craft in my stead. Tomorrow at noon we have an audience with the Emperor."

     Two more documents and Garn was finished. "Four hours?"

     "You're done? Excellent."

     Garn followed Vader into the inner office. The desk had been removed and a low platform had replaced it. "Strip, robe,and kneel," Vader ordered, stripping off his own armor, leaving the helmet and mask on.

     The transition was slow, but what had been an almost ritualistic dance turned into stroking and petting and her legs wrapped around him.

     Her hands caressed the mask as if it were his face. "Such power. I can feel fear, awe... the entire respect and support of the Sith. The symbol of House Vader, with all its associations." She closed her eyes, envisioning both the face and the mask. "Yes. What I want of you... There's an aura you generate, the fear, the awe, bringing that up."

     "Surely you don't fear me."

     "No, but I can feel the fear of others around you. And that will feed what I want right now."

     Vader was startled. "That way is dangerous for you. Not only are the emotions wrong, but drawing on them from me instead of from yourself creates a ... channel, a vacuum in you, one that will only be satisfied, first, by pain in others, and eventually, by mass murder. Do you want that?"

     "How do you know?"

     "Others have walked that path. The governor's death, using your pain and rage, marked you for ours, forever, but you can destroy yourself by going too fast, too hard."

     "'Ours?' I know I am yours, by vow and by choice, heart, mind, and soul."

     "And the Emperor is my master in turn. It may be that he will choose to teach you."

     "No. How do I prevent that?"

     "By being as low profile as possible. The stronger you are, the more he will want you for himself."

     "Does he know I'm female?"

     "Not that I know of. He thinks you're my son, whom I've kept hidden from him. He will probe you. He's looking for fear -- give it to him."

     "I see." Looking up at the mask, "No, let me see you, my love." The mask came off. Garn's fingers over Vader's face, through his hair. "He could take me from you?"

     "Yes. Then you would burn worlds for your pleasure. If you survived his hunger."

     "You're afraid of him!"

     Vader nodded. "Deathly afraid. My fear and my pain have fed him, given him strength he would not now have."

     "But you're healed. Your pain is gone."

     "Only the physical pain." With a visible wrench, he brought his attention back to the woman in his arms. "Let me show you something interesting."

     Garn got distracted, fast. A shift of position and she was atop him ... He brought nerves alive she didn't realize had any connection to sex. "No, if you're human, it all ties in. Heightened senses, muscles, brain. Hold on." He rolled them over so he was above her, holding her down. "This is needful. Ready?"

     A gasp, "Yes!"

     Trigger. Garn's whole body burned, jerked. Vader held her until she was still."That may have been a mistake. You sent up a flare of energy..."

     The computer, "Lord Vader, the Emperor commands your immediate presence. You are to bring your aide."

     "I hear and obey. Comm, off." A shudder. "As if he were watching for it. Damn. Garn -- shower, fast. and get your fanciest dress uniform on. Move it."

     A record -- two minutes, three? Vader was fully armored again, Garn in ultra-full-dress. "Yes, lightsaber, but this one." Garn was handed Kenobi's. "Face me. Brace."

     An open-handed swing, leaving a glove print on Garn's face. It hurt. "No, don't heal it. You need the pain to focus on."

     "Why did you hit me?"

     "You took too long primping. We were summoned immediately."

     "But... oh. Official truth. Then we're late, and he'll be angry."

     "He's always angry. I've summoned transportation. Can you swish?"

     That really confused Garn. "Beg 'pardon?"

     "Your best chances lie in being a simpering effeminate, but just barely. It would ... amuse ... His Majesty to think my son had turned out that way."

     "And the flare?"

     "You seduced me -- an I liked it. And paid you back with a jolt." The door chimed. "Ready to go?"

     "Yes, my lord." An exaggerated swagger, slightly prissy movement.

     The Great Audience Chamber, mostly empty. Guards in red robes at the doors, the Emperor in a throne at the end of the room, conferring with a Grand Admiral and a civilian.

     Vader knelt at the entrance. Garn hesitated, was dragged down by Vader's great gloved hand, not gently. "We see you, Lord Vader. You and your aide may approach us."

     Vader and Garn rose. The Emperor dismissed the others, leaving only guards. Vader moved in his slower pace, while Garn walked as if "he" were crossing a field used by large untidy herdbeasts. They both knelt when close, Garn needing no encouragement this time. "Lord Vader, you may rise. Where did you get ... this?"

     "One of my informants, a woman of my earlier ... acquaintance presented him to me. She'd nearly ruined him, but there's potential -- if he survives being strengthened. If his mind is broken, the body might be useful still."

     "More than that, I think. You wanted this one to follow you? As system viceroy?"

     "I have arranged a transfer. As I die, I will claim his body instead. The process is risky, but at such a point, why not?"

     "I must consider that myself. If the transfer is ineffective, he'll be easy enough to control. Now, what was that flare?"

     Vader's head ducked. Embarrassed? "You know of my injuries, of acts that I am no longer able to perform?"

     "Indeed."

     "This one has certain skills -- ones I would rather he had never learned. There are acts that he can perform, and I feel his pleasure through a link. I rewarded him -- a touch directly on the pleasure center -- and the link was still operative. I flared."

     The Emperor looked from Vader to Garn and back. "I had heard that Lord Vader had acquired a sex toy, but I did not realize that he was the proposed heir. Interesting. Encourage him to breed, and perhaps there will be a woman of talent to so ... enjoy."

     "He can't function with a woman, my master."

     "I see." The Emperor studied Garn for a moment. "Perhaps he will grow stronger. If not... the transfer interests me." Voice change from intimate to Imperial. "Lord Vader, We are minded to confirm your choice of heir. You may leave Our Presence."

     Garn rose slowly, backed away from the throne. The Emperor turned and spoke to a guard, enabling Vader and Garn to escape. Silence, back to Vader's quarters.

     "Whew. I pity anyone else with a hint of potential -- he's going to move in on them." Sudden suspicion. "Or did you intend to move in on me, after all?"

     "When you've already healed this body? You're far too valuable to me as a separate person. Acting in my stead, like reviewing those squadrons this afternoon."

     "He'll have someone watching. He'll see that I don't usually mince."

     "No one minces around the Sith -- the contempt is too obvious."

     "Contempt for male with male?"

     "No. Love -- or even sex -- comes as it comes. But the mannerisms bring raised eyebrows. Even the most dedicated simperers clean up their act."

     "Good. Leave me with them for a while, so I can be 'cured'."

     "Oh, staying with me will cure you. You aren't nearly as effeminate as you were, say, a year ago. It was nervousness that caused you to revert to the prissy walk." Looking Garn up and down, "You might be too pretty for your own good. If you weren't known to be mine, someone else would have claimed you." His gloved hands on her collar, one hand lifting her chin. A sudden movement, and her tunic was ripped open. Garn shed the trousers before they were destroyed, too. Vader shed only the minimum of his armor. The joining was swift, almost brutal. Finally, Vader gasped, spent.

     "Relax. It's over. He didn't take me."

     Gulps of air. "No, but he almost caught me. Why would I want you for an heir? I think I satisfied his questions."

     "I certainly hope so." She looked down at the ruins of her uniform. "Have you ever raped someone?"

     "I've lowered someone's resistance, yes, but no physical assault. And the woman I 'persuaded' that way came back after I released her. I don't know how much of that was rape."

     Or care, at the time, probably. "Is she still alive?"

     "No. Only two of my bedmates still live."

     Garn nodded. "I'm one. And the other?"

     "You just met him. I was ... much younger."

     "Power is an aphrodisiac. I feared him, but ... I wanted to serve him."

     "He does that. He might be too old to perform, but he had had his habits..."

     She smiled, "You enjoyed it."

     "How not? He knows the nerve sequences as well as I do. And all that power..." his voice sounded stressed.

     "Whoa." Garn led Vader back to the bedroom. "Relax. Breathe." She removed the armor and helmet/mask, covering him with a robe. "Center. Rest. I won't let him have you."

     His voice was different, but it wasn't strain. Younger, somehow? "You couldn't stop him before, Elia. Or you wouldn't. Calydon was too important to you. But whose child was it you bore? With your strength, I could have fought him. Did you love me at all? Or was it pity and professional concern?"

     Garn knew what the answer had to be. She felt an echo of her mother's thoughts. "It was love, but she already had pledged her word to Calydon. And if the child was any man's it was yours. Darth, please. Center. Collect yourself."

     "Yes, medic. Been studying Jedi techniques, too?" deep breaths. "Your drugs are working. There's no pain." His eyes were open, but unseeing of the present.

     "Where are we, Darth?"

     "I... don't know. One of your constructs, I think." He looked over at Garn and actually saw her. "Rough games? Or did someone try to hurt you?"

     "Games."

     "Did you enjoy them?"

     "Eventually, yes. You'll let yourself remember, in just a little while."

     "I don't think Calydon will appreciate your expanded tastes."

     Garn suppressed a laugh. Her father would not have appreciated this at all. "Don't concern yourself with Calydon. Tell me about our son."

     Vader smiled gently. "Garn. He's wonderful. A great pilot, a skilled medic, and an incredible student, While we were in jump, he reached out and killed the governor who ordered...." Voice shift. "Oh. I lost it there for a while, didn't I."

     "Are you sure you're back now?"

     "You've met my nightmares. Now you see the problems I have when I'm awake. That was gently done, medic." Garn twitched. "Lord Anthru, if you prefer. You could have broken me out of it sooner. Was your curiosity taking over?"

     "And which side of the Force does curiosity serve, my lord? The texts don't say."

     "It serves itself. " He looked down at her. "A good thing you have a generous uniform allowance. Most officers never see one of these, much less have one rippled off them."

     "I saved the pants," Garn offered.

     "A week's pay for a lieutenant." His hand reached out, toyed with the torn cloth. "Who was I raping? Elia? Or Himself?"

     "No one. You said that I was to pretty, that I was lucky I was yours, or someone else would have claimed me."

     "You are pretty. Would you prefer you weren't?"

     "I need to tone it down, yes. Don't you remember saying that?"

     "I thought I remembered, but... different realities intrude. The Emperor creates a maelstrom of 'maybe' and 'what if when' in my perceptions. I talk to people who aren't there, both past and future. The episodes are short, shorter if interrupted. I've never had one drawn out, directed, before."

     Garn nodded curtly, "Then, you will snap out of them on your own."

     "Yes." A touch, his hand on her cheek. "You asked about Elia's son. What answer did you expect?"

     "What answer did you give? Was that a report on an imaginary boy, or a real girl? Was your imagined Garn a medic as well?"

     "No. That was none of my imagining. What did I say?"

     She repeated it verbatim. "You sounded like a proud father showing off his kid to someone who said he'd never do anything right."

     "I was telling her. I never lied to her -- I knew she would catch me in a micro." Pause, "It was all the truth."

     Comm chime.computer voice, "Maintenance called -- will you need their services?"

     "No."

     "Message relayed. Message for Lord Anthru from Commander Wyscan."

     "Yes?"

     "An invitation to dinner, after the review."

     "Accepted," Garn answered.

     Computer, "End of messages."

     "Comm system off."

     Garn, "Maintenance?"

     "The Emperor was kind enough to call them on my behalf. He knows about my psychotic breaks, and that I often damage things."

     "'Things'?"

     Vader shrugged, "Equipment, walls..."

     Garn laughed. "Psychotic 'break' is the right term. This happens every time you're with him?"

     "Nearly."

     "Whew. When doesn't it?"

     "If he's exhausted. The whirlwind is less."

     Garn clenched her teeth. "You need to reduce your sensitivity somehow."

     Dress Sith uniform to review the squadron. Air car from the balcony to the field. Some precision flying, then Garn wandered about, looking over fighters and pilots.

     "Lord Anthru! We are indeed honored. We were told a representative of House Vader would be here, but we hardly expected yourself. Welcome!"

     They loved her. Each pilot was eager to show the finer points of his (or her) craft, the mechanics the same. The wingleaders crowded around. "Back up. Give me some air. I expect a little decorum."

     The squadron commander broke the party up. "Pardon them, my lord. The regency council has been pressuring Lord Vader to name an heir, preferably a thruskjon, " at Garn's blank look, "a stay-at-home, a grounder. Instead, he chose one of us -- but even more than one of us. Your mother -- a Jedi? She raised you?"

     "Yes. Then I came under Lord Vader's hand. He has charge of my training, now."

     "And the Emperor? Has he confirmed you?"

     "Yes."

     "Excellent!"

     Awards and introductions. Garn tried to guess which pilots were male, which female, but couldn't tell as easily as she thought she'd be able to. But there were a lot of females.

     She spoke to one of the squadron medics, who was reading as 'female'. "Are there any difficulties, with the number of..."

     The medic gave a word, then translated it as "Disguised Ones." "Outside, some. The Imperial officers find them attractive, even when they don't realize that they're female. So we cultivate a policy of stand-offishness. None of us show interest in outsiders."

     Garn grinned, "I'm not an outsider."

     "Then my lord is perhaps interested in one of us? Is there someone in particular, or are you prepared to fend off volunteers?" She studied Garn. "Preferences? Will you be leaving a lord's child for our pride, or..." A much sharper glance, "Forgive me, my lord, if I choose to believe that you are among our number."

     "I have that honor, yes"

     "And the 'lord's child'?"

     "You seek genetic material to combine with your own, for your own heir?"

     Garn smiled. "Nicely put. But I have need of other of your services first."

     A knock at the door. "Lord Anthru, Commander Wyscan has inquired about you."

     "Tell him I'll be available in half an hour. Is Lieutenant Elegry with him?"

     "Yes, my lord."

     "Half an hour."

     Garn laughed. "He was my first volunteer."

     "My services, my lord?"

     "I need a complete physical."

     "Routine or something more?"

     "Both.I had a miscarriage, several months ago. I monitor my own health fairly thoroughly -- I'm a meditech two -- but I didn't specialize in OB/GYN. And I need to see if my eggs are damaged."

     "There's the chance that it's your mate's genetic contribution that has problems."

     "There is indeed. But if it's my problem, no substitute will profit me."

     The medic nodded. "Ten minutes to remove some eggs, the full physical takes two hours. Schedule it later?"

     "Yes. I'll get back to you."

     Doors carefully locked, Garn stripped down. A probe, "There's material here from your mate. I can analyze that as well, if you like."

     "Yes. Call me when you want to discuss the report." A quick GYN exam along with the egg-scoop.

     "You look okay inside. I'll let you know when I find out anything."

     Garn dressed. "Lord Anthru, you're monitoring Lord Vader, medically -- his attending physician?"

     "As I said, I'm only a meditech two. But, yes."

     "How is his health? Relatively speaking?"

     Garn shook her head. "Relative to what? He's not deteriorating, if that worries you. In fact, he's healed since he went on that life-support -- he recently had me redesign it, to reflect his current health."

     "Will he ever be able to go without the armor? The life-support?"

     Vader had agreed with her not to advertise exactly how well healed he was. She answered, "For limited amounts of time, right now."

     "Tell him... we pray for him." Reluctantly, "Tell him there are volunteers here that House Vader not end."

     "He's the last?" The medic nodded. "I thought perpetuating the House was my duty."

     "We do not seek to displace you or your heirs. But those genes need to be conserved."

     Since Garn had the same notion herself, she could only nod in agreement. "I will tell him. For now, farewell."

     "Lord Anthru, the report you sought is in. We can discuss it at your convenience?"

     "I'm available now. My quarters?"

     "Certainly, my lord."

     Vader was asleep as Garn finished her office work. She forestalled another nightmare before going to her own quarters. They had to leave soon. The Emperor's presence... was it deliberate?

     The doctor took almost no time. Garn carefully locked the corridor door. "What news?"

     A data crystal into Garn's hand. "The relevant section is number three, but in short -- I got clean maps off all of your eggs. You're clean. But your lover's germ cells ... too much is blurred. You've healed with your Jedi powers. Can you do it on that deep a level? If you can't, you need a different father for your children."

     "Not necessarily. Your lab. Is it equipped to do cloning? Or a cell-merge?"

     A third voice. "I think not. Doctor, is this visit in reference to Garn's miscarriage?"

     "I can't discuss my patient even with you, my lord."

     Garn, "Tell him. He's involved. Yes, my lord, the miscarriage."

     "And?"

     "There's more healing to do, that's all. I was hasty in starting the child."

     "There are more important calls on your energies than healing me. Medic? Is there anything else of import on the data crystal?"

     "No, my lord."

     The crystal floated out of the reader and disintegrated. "I trust," a mildly menacing rumble, "that your copy of this information will also be destroyed?"

     "Of course, my lord."

     "Then you may go." A bow and the medic left. "Garn?"

     "Yes?"

     "There are other men who can father your children. You need not rely on me."

     "Only one other man comes close to being suitable, and I couldn't bear to have him touch me."

     Obviously not Wyscan. "Oh?"

     "The other Jedi."

     "Ah." A gloved hand stroked her face. "I see. No, we can wait. And perhaps there are other Jedi."

     Garn had one other choice... "I could carry a replicate of myself. Raise her on our world, and she would suit them at least as well as I do. Or if we find an undamaged cell sample somewhere, we could replicate you."

     He shook his head. "We have some time, yet. Things might change."

     Against Vader's wishes, Garn tried to fix things anyway. But changing the damage, repairing it, proved to be too fine a work for Garn to do. "A different method. Who are your closest kin?"

     "Jedi?" Vader asked, rhetorically. "Sith, nothing closer than sixth or seventh degree. House Vader was not a prolific lot."

     "That will change. Once the repairs are made, you won't be able to accommodate the volunteers -- not enough spare time."

     Vader snorted, "I don't have the 'spare time' to keep one woman out of trouble. What do you propose to do? Since your first approach failed?"

     "A holistic method. I'll give the unconscious mind a pattern, leave it alone, let it work." She slammed her hand down on the desktop. "But I need a pattern!"

     Garn muttered, "I think I'm going to kill my mother."

     Vader, almost absently," Don't bother -- I already did. What over?"

     "In a minute. What do you mean, you killed her? She loved you!"

     "Her name was on a list that Palpatine gave me."

     "People to kill."

     "Jedi to kill. Nothing as easy as civilians."

     Mockingly, "So you 'followed orders'?"

     "No. When I came to her door, she knew what I had been ordered to do. But I didn't lay a hand or weapon on her. She removed herself."

     Dead flat voice, "Would you have?"

     "I ... don't know. Probably. Maybe. She took the choice away from me. I don't know." But then his voice became stronger. "My presence killed her, her name on my list."

     "Ah. I see." Garn shook her head slowly, but she had relaxed. Not forgiven, but the fault was her mother's as well.

     "Do you? Why were you going to kill her?"

     "Eh? Oh. This." A package on the table, with a datacrystal on top.     

     "Medical, cryogenic storage, self-contained, about twenty-five year old model. What's inside?

     "I think it's my baby brother."

     "What?!"

     "Three sets of cell samples: Elia's, yours, and a selection of merges." She tapped the data crystal. "A message from my mother: 'In case.' That's all. The rest of the data is technique. If she knew I'd need it, why didn't she say more?"

     "When anyone could access it? I think not. How was it addressed?"

     "'Lord Garn Anthru-Vader, Lord Vader's staff.'"

     "And how do you know that it's from Elia?"

     "The gene mapping in the data was done by Medic Elia Sethon."

     "Allegedly. Listen to me. Documentation doesn't matter that much -- it's too easy to produce evidence. I've done it too many times myself."

     "Quite the 'spymaster,' are we?"

     "Your contempt for my duties is irritating at times. What proof do you have?"

     She glanced at the cannister. A more personal message might be inside, but she didn't want to crack it without facilities to preserve the contents. "Ah. If the cells are hers, they're mine as well." Feelers of perception with the Force. "Yes. Those were hers. Now... I need to probe you. Nerve tissue would be best, since it doesn't grow back on its own."

     "And therefore wouldn't have mutated repeatedly from my various exposures to radiation." He removed the helmet and mask. He took one of her hands and placed it on the container, took her other hand ... kissed her hand, then held it cupping the back of his head. "Probe me first, then the box. Don't look for identity -- look for linkage."

     "Can you tell?"

     "I haven't tried. If you can't tell, I' probe, but I think you can do it." His free hand touched her cheek. "Center. Concentrate."

     Vader shielded emotionally and mentally as best he could, leaving her to probe physically. He felt her excitement rise, and knew. "Yes, there were samples. But not from when you were burned. A landspeeder wreck when you were sixteen or so?"

     "Yes."

     Laughter. "There's the message. Thank you, Mother."

     Vader growled, "What message?"

     "She kept you alive until I could take over your treatment. She didn't have the strength to do the whole job."

     "And the merged cells?"

     "Are viable, if we choose. Your children with her -- my baby sisters and brothers."

     "Genetically, the same as if they were ours..."

     "Essentially. If there aren't any spot mutations, either in me or in these cells. If Elia didn't change some little thing. Oh, I would love them, but they wouldn't feel like they were entirely mine."

     "But if you took one of these," touching the cannister, "cells of mine, and split it, and merged it with one of your eggs? Even if it was done in a lab?"

     "The conception method doesn't matter. It's the physical connection. Her cells were never part of me, no matter how close." She patted the cannister. "I can work with this, on your behalf." She opened a comm channel. "I need someone from CryoMed in Lord Anthru's quarters, at once."

     "Yes, my lord."

     Comm off. Garn kissed Vader before giving him back his mask and helmet. "You know we have to leave here. I can't do this work while the Emperor can disrupt you."

     "We're scheduled to leave within a week. Any sooner, and there will be questions."

     Garn nodded. "A week, then."

     On shipboard again. She could feel him relax as they left the Throneworld system. "Is your experiment ready?"

     "I need at least six hours of your time, uninterrupted."

     "Certainly."

     "At your convenience, then."

     Vader's quarters. The doors were sealed and the comm completely off. Unless the Emperor himself called, they would be undisturbed. "First?"

     Garn grinned. "First we make love." Then, seriously, "That reinforces the linkage between us. Then you put yourself into a level two trance."

     Level two was almost conscious. "No deeper?"

     "You have to be able to hear me."

     Vader nodded slowly, processing. "You can't use the touch-talk and juggle everything else you need to do."

     She gathered her gear, setting it on the bedside table. Garn looked up at Vader, considering. "You're stronger when armored."

     "But the strength is misfocused for your uses in this case." He stripped away the helmet and armor, leaving the robes. "And how are you stronger?"

     "I need to direct you, not push myself. Yours is the thrust."

     "As you wish."

     The lovemaking was long and leisurely, with almost a ritual quality. He brought her to the edge four times before he let her go over -- he kept himself from an orgasm, feeling hers instead.

     The trance state came smoothly, while they were still linked, both physically and mentally. The cell sample for a pattern, contemplated and meditated on. "Bring me down to level two with you, then take us to level three."

     "Yes." Center, concentrate, focus, change... A timeless instant,then he let himself go, completing the ritual. A long recovery. "Now -- test."

     Garn ran a close scan. "Yes. But there's only one test that matters."

     "It could take some time, then. Let it happen as it happens -- no prodding or pushing."

     Garn agreed. "That will be a random test."

Miklinar smiled at an especially brilliant bit of flying. You could tell he'd rather be up there than almost anywhere else in the universe, including in bed.

"The next story? Hm... Call it 'Solo Flight', although there wasn't a lot 'solo' about it. It's about the first time Garn had to run things without Vader there as backup -- and some odd side effects of power."

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