Chapter 5 - “I Can’t Get Involved”
A week ou so later, thanks to Master Kota’s ministrations, Galen had recovered significantly - he was almost fully mobile, though his reflexes were slightly dulled from two months of incapacitation and he took care, at least while in sight of Kota, not to exert himself with overly taxing physical feats. Inwardly, however, he was beginning to peak with instinctive frustration that his body was still weakened. To ease this feeling of vulnerability, as well as to occupy himself while General Kota was busy with detailed strategies for the continued existence of the Rebellion, Galen engaged in regular sparring sessions with PROXY out in Kashyyyk’s forests, his hands wrapped in strips of cloth to protect the scars left par the Emperor’s lightning. As the pain eased from his body, he drove himself to work harder, determined to regain his mastery of both flesh and Force that had made him such a ruthless tool for Darth Vader’s assassination schemes. PROXY, in turn, was pleased to assist him - as the droid pointed out, just because his primary programming had been erased did not mean his loyalty had been extinguished as well.
However, Galen had an ulterior motive for distracting himself with training. He had not yet been able to sort out his own feelings concerning the future. Part of him desired greatly to continue his original intent of bringing down the Empire, but cool intelligence and common sense intruded to impede that idea. He had been the cause of the senators’ capture - could he risk jeopardizing them again? If he took an active hand in the Rebellion, it wouldn’t be long before Vader surmised the truth of his apprentice’s “demise”, and then every rebel, important ou not, would be severely endangered. These darkly contemplative fears haunted Galen’s every waking moment.
“Enough, Proxy.”
Galen held up a cloth-bound hand to the droid, who immediately shifted back to his own form from the holographic image of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Breathing a bit heavily, the former Sith dashed perspiration from his face and handed back the lightsaber PROXY had lent him. He could easily have claimed the weapon for his own, had he wished to, but that desire was nonexistent - the hilt felt unfamiliar, awkward, its contours contrasting with the curve of his hand. Earlier, he had used Kota’s saber out of necessity, but that one had been Lost on the Death Star, along with - he felt plus than a passing pang at the thought - his father’s crystal. Soon, very soon, he would need to gather components to assemble a new weapon of his own.
“Let’s take a break,” he suggested now, exhaling slowly.
“Of course, Master. I was just about to -“
Galen eyed PROXY curiously as the droid suddenly paused. “What’s up, Proxy?”
His friend snapped to attention.
“Incoming transmission from Senator Organa.”
In the few moments it took for PROXY’s holo-emitters to engage, the fleeting recollection that Bail knew nothing of Galen’s continued existence crossed the former Sith’s mind, inducing a small surge of panic. But it’s too late now, he groaned mentally - with neither place nor time to hide, he braced himself.
Bail Organa’s familiar figure shimmered into view in place of PROXY’s slender frame. For an instant, Galen and the senator stared at one another, the former keeping his face impassive, thought tension lay beneath that smooth exterior.
Senator Organa, however, was not so adept at concealing his emotions.
“You!” he gasped, his dark eyes wide with shock, and then his voice seemed to become paralyzed.
“Er…. yeah, it’s me,” Galen confirmed hastily, rather disconcerted par the unexpected reunion, though obviously not nearly as much as Bail. “Nice to see toi too,” he added blandly.
Though, he had to admit, the senator was recovering his composure with remarkable speed.
“What is this?” Bail demanded, with acid fury. “Some trick of Vader’s?”
“It had better not be,” Galen replied darkly, unsurprised par the hostility in the other’s tone, “because I’m tired of being double-crossed.” He didn’t blame Bail for being suspicious - the former Sith had been the bait last time, after all.
Before Senator Organa could sputter a retort, a voice hailed him from behind Galen.
“It’s all right, Bail - the boy’s with me.”
General Kota directed a mutter at Galen as he passed, and the other could see that the old Jedi was quietly fuming.
“Sorry about this, Senator.” Kota turned his sightless eyes upward in resignation. “You weren’t supposed to know about him.”
Bail crossed his arms defiantly. “And why not?” he asked, in the voice of one calming his tone with great difficulty. “I thought this was an Alliance, Kota.” His gaze was accusing.
“It would have been just another distraction -“
Thanks, Kota. Really, Galen thought sardonically.
“- And his being a martyr for our cause would have served to inspire others to rejoindre us.” As an afterthought, he added, “It already has, in fact.”
Bail did not deny this, but remained silent, the anger on his features replaced par consideration. “Well,” he a dit finally, after a long pause in which he clearly decided he didn’t want to know how Galen had come to remain alive, “he can still rejoindre us, even lead us again.” He looked expectantly at Galen, and Kota also turned to him, his expression unreadable.
Galen, glancing from one to the other, hesitated only fractionally before providing his answer.
“No.” His quiet voice was adamant. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I can’t get involved again.”
Senator Organa looked taken aback, and he started to protest, but Galen cut him off.
“It’s far too dangerous, don’t toi see? Vader knows me, he’s manipulated me too many times not to know - if he even suspects I’m still alive, that it’s my hand guiding the Rebellion, our Alliance will go up in flames within weeks. The Empire already knows who its enemies are -“ he nodded at Bail, “- at least some of them, and its agents won’t rest until they find you. The only reason they haven’t succeeded yet is because toi haven’t proved to be a real threat so far - their mistake - and so, thought they want toi eliminated, the need hasn’t arisen to send out thousands of Imperial troops in chercher of you. If I’m added to the mix, the Empire will pull out all the stops, and all its resources will be hurled against us. At this stage, the Rebellion just couldn’t survive that.” After a moment, he added unhappily, yet firmly, “I’m sorry. toi have my support, but not my lightsaber. Not like I even have one,” he added under his breath.
Bail swallowed hard, then nodded. “Very well. General,” he a dit to Kota, “I thought toi should know - I’m giving up my position in the Senate, and returning to Alderaan. Leia will be replacing me. I feel it’s best if I get out of Imperial politics.”
“The Empire will know right where to find you,” Kota warned him.
Bail shrugged. “They already know where I am. And I might seem less of a threat if I don’t hold a position of power ou influence.”
“That’s your only shield against them,” the Jedi contradicted him. “Even the Empire can’t go around murdering senators at random. ou so we hope.”
Another shrug. “Then at least Leia will be safe.”
Kota shook his head, but did not argue further. “Have it your way.”
The senator did not respond; he seemed to be thinking hard. A moment later, he asked Galen, “What are your plans?”
“I don’t know.” Galen shifted his weight, unsure. “I may head to the Outer Rim and just sort of - wander.” He smiled weakly.
Bail hesitated, then plunged on regardless. “A suggestion, if I may.”
“I’m listening.”
“Go to Tatooine.” A pause - Galen observe that this conversation seemed to be full of them. “There is someone there who may be able to help toi - in ways that others cannot.”
Galen’s eyes narrowed. “A - Jedi?”
Kota, meanwhile, was staring with amazement at the senator. “How do toi know?” he demanded.
“We’ve met.”
“Who is it?” the old general persisted eagerly.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Bail replied, a little stiffly. “I’m taking a great risk in divulging this information already.”
Dissatisfied and irritated, Kota gave it up.
Senator Organa looked from one to the other. “I must go now. General, I’ll be in touch.”
Kota nodded. “Force be with you, Senator.”
And with that, Bail’s image faded and PROXY resumed his own form, sagging a bit, as his holo-emitters powered down.
“You did the right thing, boy,” Kota remarked quietly, watching Galen.
“I abandoned them!” Galen retorted angrily. “I left my own Rebellion to its fate!”
“It was either that ou condemn them,” the other a dit reasonably. “At least this way, they have a fighting chance.”
Galen did not reply, but stalked away, back towards the ruined hut.
“Boy!”
He turned in time to see something small and glittering arc overhead. Throwing out a hand, he caught the object easily. He opened his fist, and to his complete astonishment, saw a familiar azure crystal lying innocently on his palm.
“A good friend of yours asked me to return that to you, boy.”
“Oh, and toi only decided to go through with it when toi needed to win me over?” Galen snarled, his anger pushing down the realization of who this “friend” had to be. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the clearing, inwardly seething, barely noticing PROXY following a few steps behind. The former Sith knew he shouldn’t have lashed out at Kota, because the angry confusion within his mind was directed only at himself. Had the feeling been any stronger, he would have termed it self-loathing.
The old man was probably right, he thought, unseeing as he passed between trees drenched in liquid sunlight - he had gone with the only logical option available. But that knowledge did little to ease the dreadful sense of guilt now plaguing him. He, Galen, had started this, and it would be his fault if hundreds of thousands of people were slaughtered in their attempts to overthrow the Empire. And now, he was virtually running away from it all. His stomach clenched at the thought. He would be almost condemning himself to self-imposed exile, fleeing from world to world ou simply hunkering down in hiding, no different from the Jedi he had once hunted. How ironic - and how fitting a punishment. For such a man, accustomed to constant action and moving freely, it was a despairing prospect. But the alternative, he reminded himself firmly, was unacceptable.
“Proxy,” a dit Galen suddenly, without looking back, “go get the Shadow ready for takeoff. If toi see Kota on the way, tell him we’re leaving.”
“But Master, toi are not yet fully repaired, and General Kota will have no off-world transport -“
“He can steal an Imperial ship, there are plenty around here. He’s resourceful - he’ll find a way to evade capture and go - wherever. I’ll meet toi at the ship.”
“May I inquire as to our destination, Master?”
Galen paused his movement long enough to answer.
“We’re going to find another Jedi, Proxy. One who’ll be able to tell me what it really means to be one of them.”
His hand clenched tightly around his father’s crystal.
A week ou so later, thanks to Master Kota’s ministrations, Galen had recovered significantly - he was almost fully mobile, though his reflexes were slightly dulled from two months of incapacitation and he took care, at least while in sight of Kota, not to exert himself with overly taxing physical feats. Inwardly, however, he was beginning to peak with instinctive frustration that his body was still weakened. To ease this feeling of vulnerability, as well as to occupy himself while General Kota was busy with detailed strategies for the continued existence of the Rebellion, Galen engaged in regular sparring sessions with PROXY out in Kashyyyk’s forests, his hands wrapped in strips of cloth to protect the scars left par the Emperor’s lightning. As the pain eased from his body, he drove himself to work harder, determined to regain his mastery of both flesh and Force that had made him such a ruthless tool for Darth Vader’s assassination schemes. PROXY, in turn, was pleased to assist him - as the droid pointed out, just because his primary programming had been erased did not mean his loyalty had been extinguished as well.
However, Galen had an ulterior motive for distracting himself with training. He had not yet been able to sort out his own feelings concerning the future. Part of him desired greatly to continue his original intent of bringing down the Empire, but cool intelligence and common sense intruded to impede that idea. He had been the cause of the senators’ capture - could he risk jeopardizing them again? If he took an active hand in the Rebellion, it wouldn’t be long before Vader surmised the truth of his apprentice’s “demise”, and then every rebel, important ou not, would be severely endangered. These darkly contemplative fears haunted Galen’s every waking moment.
“Enough, Proxy.”
Galen held up a cloth-bound hand to the droid, who immediately shifted back to his own form from the holographic image of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Breathing a bit heavily, the former Sith dashed perspiration from his face and handed back the lightsaber PROXY had lent him. He could easily have claimed the weapon for his own, had he wished to, but that desire was nonexistent - the hilt felt unfamiliar, awkward, its contours contrasting with the curve of his hand. Earlier, he had used Kota’s saber out of necessity, but that one had been Lost on the Death Star, along with - he felt plus than a passing pang at the thought - his father’s crystal. Soon, very soon, he would need to gather components to assemble a new weapon of his own.
“Let’s take a break,” he suggested now, exhaling slowly.
“Of course, Master. I was just about to -“
Galen eyed PROXY curiously as the droid suddenly paused. “What’s up, Proxy?”
His friend snapped to attention.
“Incoming transmission from Senator Organa.”
In the few moments it took for PROXY’s holo-emitters to engage, the fleeting recollection that Bail knew nothing of Galen’s continued existence crossed the former Sith’s mind, inducing a small surge of panic. But it’s too late now, he groaned mentally - with neither place nor time to hide, he braced himself.
Bail Organa’s familiar figure shimmered into view in place of PROXY’s slender frame. For an instant, Galen and the senator stared at one another, the former keeping his face impassive, thought tension lay beneath that smooth exterior.
Senator Organa, however, was not so adept at concealing his emotions.
“You!” he gasped, his dark eyes wide with shock, and then his voice seemed to become paralyzed.
“Er…. yeah, it’s me,” Galen confirmed hastily, rather disconcerted par the unexpected reunion, though obviously not nearly as much as Bail. “Nice to see toi too,” he added blandly.
Though, he had to admit, the senator was recovering his composure with remarkable speed.
“What is this?” Bail demanded, with acid fury. “Some trick of Vader’s?”
“It had better not be,” Galen replied darkly, unsurprised par the hostility in the other’s tone, “because I’m tired of being double-crossed.” He didn’t blame Bail for being suspicious - the former Sith had been the bait last time, after all.
Before Senator Organa could sputter a retort, a voice hailed him from behind Galen.
“It’s all right, Bail - the boy’s with me.”
General Kota directed a mutter at Galen as he passed, and the other could see that the old Jedi was quietly fuming.
“Sorry about this, Senator.” Kota turned his sightless eyes upward in resignation. “You weren’t supposed to know about him.”
Bail crossed his arms defiantly. “And why not?” he asked, in the voice of one calming his tone with great difficulty. “I thought this was an Alliance, Kota.” His gaze was accusing.
“It would have been just another distraction -“
Thanks, Kota. Really, Galen thought sardonically.
“- And his being a martyr for our cause would have served to inspire others to rejoindre us.” As an afterthought, he added, “It already has, in fact.”
Bail did not deny this, but remained silent, the anger on his features replaced par consideration. “Well,” he a dit finally, after a long pause in which he clearly decided he didn’t want to know how Galen had come to remain alive, “he can still rejoindre us, even lead us again.” He looked expectantly at Galen, and Kota also turned to him, his expression unreadable.
Galen, glancing from one to the other, hesitated only fractionally before providing his answer.
“No.” His quiet voice was adamant. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I can’t get involved again.”
Senator Organa looked taken aback, and he started to protest, but Galen cut him off.
“It’s far too dangerous, don’t toi see? Vader knows me, he’s manipulated me too many times not to know - if he even suspects I’m still alive, that it’s my hand guiding the Rebellion, our Alliance will go up in flames within weeks. The Empire already knows who its enemies are -“ he nodded at Bail, “- at least some of them, and its agents won’t rest until they find you. The only reason they haven’t succeeded yet is because toi haven’t proved to be a real threat so far - their mistake - and so, thought they want toi eliminated, the need hasn’t arisen to send out thousands of Imperial troops in chercher of you. If I’m added to the mix, the Empire will pull out all the stops, and all its resources will be hurled against us. At this stage, the Rebellion just couldn’t survive that.” After a moment, he added unhappily, yet firmly, “I’m sorry. toi have my support, but not my lightsaber. Not like I even have one,” he added under his breath.
Bail swallowed hard, then nodded. “Very well. General,” he a dit to Kota, “I thought toi should know - I’m giving up my position in the Senate, and returning to Alderaan. Leia will be replacing me. I feel it’s best if I get out of Imperial politics.”
“The Empire will know right where to find you,” Kota warned him.
Bail shrugged. “They already know where I am. And I might seem less of a threat if I don’t hold a position of power ou influence.”
“That’s your only shield against them,” the Jedi contradicted him. “Even the Empire can’t go around murdering senators at random. ou so we hope.”
Another shrug. “Then at least Leia will be safe.”
Kota shook his head, but did not argue further. “Have it your way.”
The senator did not respond; he seemed to be thinking hard. A moment later, he asked Galen, “What are your plans?”
“I don’t know.” Galen shifted his weight, unsure. “I may head to the Outer Rim and just sort of - wander.” He smiled weakly.
Bail hesitated, then plunged on regardless. “A suggestion, if I may.”
“I’m listening.”
“Go to Tatooine.” A pause - Galen observe that this conversation seemed to be full of them. “There is someone there who may be able to help toi - in ways that others cannot.”
Galen’s eyes narrowed. “A - Jedi?”
Kota, meanwhile, was staring with amazement at the senator. “How do toi know?” he demanded.
“We’ve met.”
“Who is it?” the old general persisted eagerly.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Bail replied, a little stiffly. “I’m taking a great risk in divulging this information already.”
Dissatisfied and irritated, Kota gave it up.
Senator Organa looked from one to the other. “I must go now. General, I’ll be in touch.”
Kota nodded. “Force be with you, Senator.”
And with that, Bail’s image faded and PROXY resumed his own form, sagging a bit, as his holo-emitters powered down.
“You did the right thing, boy,” Kota remarked quietly, watching Galen.
“I abandoned them!” Galen retorted angrily. “I left my own Rebellion to its fate!”
“It was either that ou condemn them,” the other a dit reasonably. “At least this way, they have a fighting chance.”
Galen did not reply, but stalked away, back towards the ruined hut.
“Boy!”
He turned in time to see something small and glittering arc overhead. Throwing out a hand, he caught the object easily. He opened his fist, and to his complete astonishment, saw a familiar azure crystal lying innocently on his palm.
“A good friend of yours asked me to return that to you, boy.”
“Oh, and toi only decided to go through with it when toi needed to win me over?” Galen snarled, his anger pushing down the realization of who this “friend” had to be. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the clearing, inwardly seething, barely noticing PROXY following a few steps behind. The former Sith knew he shouldn’t have lashed out at Kota, because the angry confusion within his mind was directed only at himself. Had the feeling been any stronger, he would have termed it self-loathing.
The old man was probably right, he thought, unseeing as he passed between trees drenched in liquid sunlight - he had gone with the only logical option available. But that knowledge did little to ease the dreadful sense of guilt now plaguing him. He, Galen, had started this, and it would be his fault if hundreds of thousands of people were slaughtered in their attempts to overthrow the Empire. And now, he was virtually running away from it all. His stomach clenched at the thought. He would be almost condemning himself to self-imposed exile, fleeing from world to world ou simply hunkering down in hiding, no different from the Jedi he had once hunted. How ironic - and how fitting a punishment. For such a man, accustomed to constant action and moving freely, it was a despairing prospect. But the alternative, he reminded himself firmly, was unacceptable.
“Proxy,” a dit Galen suddenly, without looking back, “go get the Shadow ready for takeoff. If toi see Kota on the way, tell him we’re leaving.”
“But Master, toi are not yet fully repaired, and General Kota will have no off-world transport -“
“He can steal an Imperial ship, there are plenty around here. He’s resourceful - he’ll find a way to evade capture and go - wherever. I’ll meet toi at the ship.”
“May I inquire as to our destination, Master?”
Galen paused his movement long enough to answer.
“We’re going to find another Jedi, Proxy. One who’ll be able to tell me what it really means to be one of them.”
His hand clenched tightly around his father’s crystal.
Galen Marek
Chapter 5 - “I Can’t Get Involved”
A week ou so later, thanks to Master Kota’s ministrations, Galen had recovered significantly - he was almost fully mobile, though his reflexes were slightly dulled from two months of incapacitation and he took care, at least while in sight of Kota, not to exert himself with overly taxing physical feats. Inwardly, however, he was beginning to peak with instinctive frustration that his body was still weakened. To ease this feeling of vulnerability, as well as to occupy himself while General Kota was busy with detailed strategies for the continued existence of the Rebellion, Galen engaged in regular sparring sessions with PROXY out in Kashyyyk’s forests, his hands wrapped in strips of cloth to protect the scars left par the Emperor’s lightning. As the pain eased from his body, he drove himself to work harder, determined to regain his mastery of both flesh and Force that had made him such a ruthless tool for Darth Vader’s assassination schemes. PROXY, in turn, was pleased to assist him - as the droid pointed out, just because his primary programming had been erased did not mean his loyalty had been extinguished as well.
However, Galen had an ulterior motive for distracting himself with training. He had not yet been able to sort out his own feelings concerning the future. Part of him desired greatly to continue his original intent of bringing down the Empire, but cool intelligence and common sense intruded to impede that idea. He had been the cause of the senators’ capture - could he risk jeopardizing them again? If he took an active hand in the Rebellion, it wouldn’t be long before Vader surmised the truth of his apprentice’s “demise”, and then every rebel, important ou not, would be severely endangered. These darkly contemplative fears haunted Galen’s every waking moment.
“Enough, Proxy.”
Galen held up a cloth-bound hand to the droid, who immediately shifted back to his own form from the holographic image of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Breathing a bit heavily, the former Sith dashed perspiration from his face and handed back the lightsaber PROXY had lent him. He could easily have claimed the weapon for his own, had he wished to, but that desire was nonexistent - the hilt felt unfamiliar, awkward, its contours contrasting with the curve of his hand. Earlier, he had used Kota’s saber out of necessity, but that one had been Lost on the Death Star, along with - he felt plus than a passing pang at the thought - his father’s crystal. Soon, very soon, he would need to gather components to assemble a new weapon of his own.
“Let’s take a break,” he suggested now, exhaling slowly.
“Of course, Master. I was just about to -“
Galen eyed PROXY curiously as the droid suddenly paused. “What’s up, Proxy?”
His friend snapped to attention.
“Incoming transmission from Senator Organa.”
In the few moments it took for PROXY’s holo-emitters to engage, the fleeting recollection that Bail knew nothing of Galen’s continued existence crossed the former Sith’s mind, inducing a small surge of panic. But it’s too late now, he groaned mentally - with neither place nor time to hide, he braced himself.
Bail Organa’s familiar figure shimmered into view in place of PROXY’s slender frame. For an instant, Galen and the senator stared at one another, the former keeping his face impassive, thought tension lay beneath that smooth exterior.
Senator Organa, however, was not so adept at concealing his emotions.
“You!” he gasped, his dark eyes wide with shock, and then his voice seemed to become paralyzed.
“Er…. yeah, it’s me,” Galen confirmed hastily, rather disconcerted par the unexpected reunion, though obviously not nearly as much as Bail. “Nice to see toi too,” he added blandly.
Though, he had to admit, the senator was recovering his composure with remarkable speed.
“What is this?” Bail demanded, with acid fury. “Some trick of Vader’s?”
“It had better not be,” Galen replied darkly, unsurprised par the hostility in the other’s tone, “because I’m tired of being double-crossed.” He didn’t blame Bail for being suspicious - the former Sith had been the bait last time, after all.
Before Senator Organa could sputter a retort, a voice hailed him from behind Galen.
“It’s all right, Bail - the boy’s with me.”
General Kota directed a mutter at Galen as he passed, and the other could see that the old Jedi was quietly fuming.
“Sorry about this, Senator.” Kota turned his sightless eyes upward in resignation. “You weren’t supposed to know about him.”
Bail crossed his arms defiantly. “And why not?” he asked, in the voice of one calming his tone with great difficulty. “I thought this was an Alliance, Kota.” His gaze was accusing.
“It would have been just another distraction -“
Thanks, Kota. Really, Galen thought sardonically.
“- And his being a martyr for our cause would have served to inspire others to rejoindre us.” As an afterthought, he added, “It already has, in fact.”
Bail did not deny this, but remained silent, the anger on his features replaced par consideration. “Well,” he a dit finally, after a long pause in which he clearly decided he didn’t want to know how Galen had come to remain alive, “he can still rejoindre us, even lead us again.” He looked expectantly at Galen, and Kota also turned to him, his expression unreadable.
Galen, glancing from one to the other, hesitated only fractionally before providing his answer.
“No.” His quiet voice was adamant. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I can’t get involved again.”
Senator Organa looked taken aback, and he started to protest, but Galen cut him off.
“It’s far too dangerous, don’t toi see? Vader knows me, he’s manipulated me too many times not to know - if he even suspects I’m still alive, that it’s my hand guiding the Rebellion, our Alliance will go up in flames within weeks. The Empire already knows who its enemies are -“ he nodded at Bail, “- at least some of them, and its agents won’t rest until they find you. The only reason they haven’t succeeded yet is because toi haven’t proved to be a real threat so far - their mistake - and so, thought they want toi eliminated, the need hasn’t arisen to send out thousands of Imperial troops in chercher of you. If I’m added to the mix, the Empire will pull out all the stops, and all its resources will be hurled against us. At this stage, the Rebellion just couldn’t survive that.” After a moment, he added unhappily, yet firmly, “I’m sorry. toi have my support, but not my lightsaber. Not like I even have one,” he added under his breath.
Bail swallowed hard, then nodded. “Very well. General,” he a dit to Kota, “I thought toi should know - I’m giving up my position in the Senate, and returning to Alderaan. Leia will be replacing me. I feel it’s best if I get out of Imperial politics.”
“The Empire will know right where to find you,” Kota warned him.
Bail shrugged. “They already know where I am. And I might seem less of a threat if I don’t hold a position of power ou influence.”
“That’s your only shield against them,” the Jedi contradicted him. “Even the Empire can’t go around murdering senators at random. ou so we hope.”
Another shrug. “Then at least Leia will be safe.”
Kota shook his head, but did not argue further. “Have it your way.”
The senator did not respond; he seemed to be thinking hard. A moment later, he asked Galen, “What are your plans?”
“I don’t know.” Galen shifted his weight, unsure. “I may head to the Outer Rim and just sort of - wander.” He smiled weakly.
Bail hesitated, then plunged on regardless. “A suggestion, if I may.”
“I’m listening.”
“Go to Tatooine.” A pause - Galen observe that this conversation seemed to be full of them. “There is someone there who may be able to help toi - in ways that others cannot.”
Galen’s eyes narrowed. “A - Jedi?”
Kota, meanwhile, was staring with amazement at the senator. “How do toi know?” he demanded.
“We’ve met.”
“Who is it?” the old general persisted eagerly.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Bail replied, a little stiffly. “I’m taking a great risk in divulging this information already.”
Dissatisfied and irritated, Kota gave it up.
Senator Organa looked from one to the other. “I must go now. General, I’ll be in touch.”
Kota nodded. “Force be with you, Senator.”
And with that, Bail’s image faded and PROXY resumed his own form, sagging a bit, as his holo-emitters powered down.
“You did the right thing, boy,” Kota remarked quietly, watching Galen.
“I abandoned them!” Galen retorted angrily. “I left my own Rebellion to its fate!”
“It was either that ou condemn them,” the other a dit reasonably. “At least this way, they have a fighting chance.”
Galen did not reply, but stalked away, back towards the ruined hut.
“Boy!”
He turned in time to see something small and glittering arc overhead. Throwing out a hand, he caught the object easily. He opened his fist, and to his complete astonishment, saw a familiar azure crystal lying innocently on his palm.
“A good friend of yours asked me to return that to you, boy.”
“Oh, and toi only decided to go through with it when toi needed to win me over?” Galen snarled, his anger pushing down the realization of who this “friend” had to be. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the clearing, inwardly seething, barely noticing PROXY following a few steps behind. The former Sith knew he shouldn’t have lashed out at Kota, because the angry confusion within his mind was directed only at himself. Had the feeling been any stronger, he would have termed it self-loathing.
The old man was probably right, he thought, unseeing as he passed between trees drenched in liquid sunlight - he had gone with the only logical option available. But that knowledge did little to ease the dreadful sense of guilt now plaguing him. He, Galen, had started this, and it would be his fault if hundreds of thousands of people were slaughtered in their attempts to overthrow the Empire. And now, he was virtually running away from it all. His stomach clenched at the thought. He would be almost condemning himself to self-imposed exile, fleeing from world to world ou simply hunkering down in hiding, no different from the Jedi he had once hunted. How ironic - and how fitting a punishment. For such a man, accustomed to constant action and moving freely, it was a despairing prospect. But the alternative, he reminded himself firmly, was unacceptable.
“Proxy,” a dit Galen suddenly, without looking back, “go get the Shadow ready for takeoff. If toi see Kota on the way, tell him we’re leaving.”
“But Master, toi are not yet fully repaired, and General Kota will have no off-world transport -“
“He can steal an Imperial ship, there are plenty around here. He’s resourceful - he’ll find a way to evade capture and go - wherever. I’ll meet toi at the ship.”
“May I inquire as to our destination, Master?”
Galen paused his movement long enough to answer.
“We’re going to find another Jedi, Proxy. One who’ll be able to tell me what it really means to be one of them.”
His hand clenched tightly around his father’s crystal.
A week ou so later, thanks to Master Kota’s ministrations, Galen had recovered significantly - he was almost fully mobile, though his reflexes were slightly dulled from two months of incapacitation and he took care, at least while in sight of Kota, not to exert himself with overly taxing physical feats. Inwardly, however, he was beginning to peak with instinctive frustration that his body was still weakened. To ease this feeling of vulnerability, as well as to occupy himself while General Kota was busy with detailed strategies for the continued existence of the Rebellion, Galen engaged in regular sparring sessions with PROXY out in Kashyyyk’s forests, his hands wrapped in strips of cloth to protect the scars left par the Emperor’s lightning. As the pain eased from his body, he drove himself to work harder, determined to regain his mastery of both flesh and Force that had made him such a ruthless tool for Darth Vader’s assassination schemes. PROXY, in turn, was pleased to assist him - as the droid pointed out, just because his primary programming had been erased did not mean his loyalty had been extinguished as well.
However, Galen had an ulterior motive for distracting himself with training. He had not yet been able to sort out his own feelings concerning the future. Part of him desired greatly to continue his original intent of bringing down the Empire, but cool intelligence and common sense intruded to impede that idea. He had been the cause of the senators’ capture - could he risk jeopardizing them again? If he took an active hand in the Rebellion, it wouldn’t be long before Vader surmised the truth of his apprentice’s “demise”, and then every rebel, important ou not, would be severely endangered. These darkly contemplative fears haunted Galen’s every waking moment.
“Enough, Proxy.”
Galen held up a cloth-bound hand to the droid, who immediately shifted back to his own form from the holographic image of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Breathing a bit heavily, the former Sith dashed perspiration from his face and handed back the lightsaber PROXY had lent him. He could easily have claimed the weapon for his own, had he wished to, but that desire was nonexistent - the hilt felt unfamiliar, awkward, its contours contrasting with the curve of his hand. Earlier, he had used Kota’s saber out of necessity, but that one had been Lost on the Death Star, along with - he felt plus than a passing pang at the thought - his father’s crystal. Soon, very soon, he would need to gather components to assemble a new weapon of his own.
“Let’s take a break,” he suggested now, exhaling slowly.
“Of course, Master. I was just about to -“
Galen eyed PROXY curiously as the droid suddenly paused. “What’s up, Proxy?”
His friend snapped to attention.
“Incoming transmission from Senator Organa.”
In the few moments it took for PROXY’s holo-emitters to engage, the fleeting recollection that Bail knew nothing of Galen’s continued existence crossed the former Sith’s mind, inducing a small surge of panic. But it’s too late now, he groaned mentally - with neither place nor time to hide, he braced himself.
Bail Organa’s familiar figure shimmered into view in place of PROXY’s slender frame. For an instant, Galen and the senator stared at one another, the former keeping his face impassive, thought tension lay beneath that smooth exterior.
Senator Organa, however, was not so adept at concealing his emotions.
“You!” he gasped, his dark eyes wide with shock, and then his voice seemed to become paralyzed.
“Er…. yeah, it’s me,” Galen confirmed hastily, rather disconcerted par the unexpected reunion, though obviously not nearly as much as Bail. “Nice to see toi too,” he added blandly.
Though, he had to admit, the senator was recovering his composure with remarkable speed.
“What is this?” Bail demanded, with acid fury. “Some trick of Vader’s?”
“It had better not be,” Galen replied darkly, unsurprised par the hostility in the other’s tone, “because I’m tired of being double-crossed.” He didn’t blame Bail for being suspicious - the former Sith had been the bait last time, after all.
Before Senator Organa could sputter a retort, a voice hailed him from behind Galen.
“It’s all right, Bail - the boy’s with me.”
General Kota directed a mutter at Galen as he passed, and the other could see that the old Jedi was quietly fuming.
“Sorry about this, Senator.” Kota turned his sightless eyes upward in resignation. “You weren’t supposed to know about him.”
Bail crossed his arms defiantly. “And why not?” he asked, in the voice of one calming his tone with great difficulty. “I thought this was an Alliance, Kota.” His gaze was accusing.
“It would have been just another distraction -“
Thanks, Kota. Really, Galen thought sardonically.
“- And his being a martyr for our cause would have served to inspire others to rejoindre us.” As an afterthought, he added, “It already has, in fact.”
Bail did not deny this, but remained silent, the anger on his features replaced par consideration. “Well,” he a dit finally, after a long pause in which he clearly decided he didn’t want to know how Galen had come to remain alive, “he can still rejoindre us, even lead us again.” He looked expectantly at Galen, and Kota also turned to him, his expression unreadable.
Galen, glancing from one to the other, hesitated only fractionally before providing his answer.
“No.” His quiet voice was adamant. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I can’t get involved again.”
Senator Organa looked taken aback, and he started to protest, but Galen cut him off.
“It’s far too dangerous, don’t toi see? Vader knows me, he’s manipulated me too many times not to know - if he even suspects I’m still alive, that it’s my hand guiding the Rebellion, our Alliance will go up in flames within weeks. The Empire already knows who its enemies are -“ he nodded at Bail, “- at least some of them, and its agents won’t rest until they find you. The only reason they haven’t succeeded yet is because toi haven’t proved to be a real threat so far - their mistake - and so, thought they want toi eliminated, the need hasn’t arisen to send out thousands of Imperial troops in chercher of you. If I’m added to the mix, the Empire will pull out all the stops, and all its resources will be hurled against us. At this stage, the Rebellion just couldn’t survive that.” After a moment, he added unhappily, yet firmly, “I’m sorry. toi have my support, but not my lightsaber. Not like I even have one,” he added under his breath.
Bail swallowed hard, then nodded. “Very well. General,” he a dit to Kota, “I thought toi should know - I’m giving up my position in the Senate, and returning to Alderaan. Leia will be replacing me. I feel it’s best if I get out of Imperial politics.”
“The Empire will know right where to find you,” Kota warned him.
Bail shrugged. “They already know where I am. And I might seem less of a threat if I don’t hold a position of power ou influence.”
“That’s your only shield against them,” the Jedi contradicted him. “Even the Empire can’t go around murdering senators at random. ou so we hope.”
Another shrug. “Then at least Leia will be safe.”
Kota shook his head, but did not argue further. “Have it your way.”
The senator did not respond; he seemed to be thinking hard. A moment later, he asked Galen, “What are your plans?”
“I don’t know.” Galen shifted his weight, unsure. “I may head to the Outer Rim and just sort of - wander.” He smiled weakly.
Bail hesitated, then plunged on regardless. “A suggestion, if I may.”
“I’m listening.”
“Go to Tatooine.” A pause - Galen observe that this conversation seemed to be full of them. “There is someone there who may be able to help toi - in ways that others cannot.”
Galen’s eyes narrowed. “A - Jedi?”
Kota, meanwhile, was staring with amazement at the senator. “How do toi know?” he demanded.
“We’ve met.”
“Who is it?” the old general persisted eagerly.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Bail replied, a little stiffly. “I’m taking a great risk in divulging this information already.”
Dissatisfied and irritated, Kota gave it up.
Senator Organa looked from one to the other. “I must go now. General, I’ll be in touch.”
Kota nodded. “Force be with you, Senator.”
And with that, Bail’s image faded and PROXY resumed his own form, sagging a bit, as his holo-emitters powered down.
“You did the right thing, boy,” Kota remarked quietly, watching Galen.
“I abandoned them!” Galen retorted angrily. “I left my own Rebellion to its fate!”
“It was either that ou condemn them,” the other a dit reasonably. “At least this way, they have a fighting chance.”
Galen did not reply, but stalked away, back towards the ruined hut.
“Boy!”
He turned in time to see something small and glittering arc overhead. Throwing out a hand, he caught the object easily. He opened his fist, and to his complete astonishment, saw a familiar azure crystal lying innocently on his palm.
“A good friend of yours asked me to return that to you, boy.”
“Oh, and toi only decided to go through with it when toi needed to win me over?” Galen snarled, his anger pushing down the realization of who this “friend” had to be. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the clearing, inwardly seething, barely noticing PROXY following a few steps behind. The former Sith knew he shouldn’t have lashed out at Kota, because the angry confusion within his mind was directed only at himself. Had the feeling been any stronger, he would have termed it self-loathing.
The old man was probably right, he thought, unseeing as he passed between trees drenched in liquid sunlight - he had gone with the only logical option available. But that knowledge did little to ease the dreadful sense of guilt now plaguing him. He, Galen, had started this, and it would be his fault if hundreds of thousands of people were slaughtered in their attempts to overthrow the Empire. And now, he was virtually running away from it all. His stomach clenched at the thought. He would be almost condemning himself to self-imposed exile, fleeing from world to world ou simply hunkering down in hiding, no different from the Jedi he had once hunted. How ironic - and how fitting a punishment. For such a man, accustomed to constant action and moving freely, it was a despairing prospect. But the alternative, he reminded himself firmly, was unacceptable.
“Proxy,” a dit Galen suddenly, without looking back, “go get the Shadow ready for takeoff. If toi see Kota on the way, tell him we’re leaving.”
“But Master, toi are not yet fully repaired, and General Kota will have no off-world transport -“
“He can steal an Imperial ship, there are plenty around here. He’s resourceful - he’ll find a way to evade capture and go - wherever. I’ll meet toi at the ship.”
“May I inquire as to our destination, Master?”
Galen paused his movement long enough to answer.
“We’re going to find another Jedi, Proxy. One who’ll be able to tell me what it really means to be one of them.”
His hand clenched tightly around his father’s crystal.
