howlingplayground | (no subject)

(no subject)

Misa is waiting in the only place she can be hidden and not found on this Death Star: Lord Vader's quarters. She'd tried to meditate earlier and had been, well, poked because the Emperor would be able to find her then. She hates not having anything to do, but apparently, her nervous energy blends in with all the other nervous energy on this... horrific monstrosity.

She sighs and leans against the door, her head tilted back as she stares at the ceiling. She concentrates just enough to know that a fight has started. So. Skywalker had shown up? Good. But that doesn't mean that she's not going to help. Oh, she's not stupid enough to go marching into the throne room and trying to decapitate Palpatine - though it's tempting - but she knows that her Lord cannot survive this without her. Her visions had shown her that much, though she's not sure what to think about them.

Another sigh as she begins to pace again. She needs to get out of here, to get somewhere... Her head snaps up. Something had happened to her Lord. Something... Alarms start going off all over the Death Star and she says his orders be damned, she's not staying here. He needs her.

The entire base is in disarray. Stormtroopers and officers are running all which way. She doesn't care about them. She needs to find him. Racing down corridors that she doesn't find familiar, trailing his fading Force presence, Misa is not going to let him die. She doesn't know that she can help him, but she's going to try!

She skids around a corner, slamming into a trio of Stormtroopers that fall as she uses the Force to right herself. Palpatine is dead. She can tell that. He's dead! She stops, reorienting herself and then dashes off again, sliding around another corner. THERE! There he is. Being helped by... Who is that?

But then the guy falls, and she can't hear what he's saying to her Lord as she pounds her way through the people between them and her. She skids to her knees, just as he's reaching for the helmet. "Don't!" She says, panting. "Don't, you'll kill him!" She puts her hand on Lord Vader's shoulder. "And I'm not going to let you die." She whispers as the Force flows through her, slowly - painstakingly slowly - trying to stabilize her Lord. "We need to get him on the ship and into his bed." She says, not looking at the man who had been carrying Vader. "Please, help me." She waves at the black shuttle that is Lord Vader's private ship that they'd been headed for.

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It's almost like being on autopilot. But there's a difference, when it's being orchestrated by the Force. Or maybe it always was, this feeling of knowing every step before he takes it, of all his actions fluid and foreordained. And now, with training, he's aware of it.

He has Vader--no, Anakin--almost to the ship, when the girl shows up. He'd been vaguely aware of her before, but only in the way he's aware of every life on this station, of the mixing and mingling of energies both individual and adding up to a maelstrom of panic and anger and despair.

He has enough of those of his own, thanks.

So when the girl approaches, telling him things he's already doing after the past hours/days/months of constant strain, he just stares for a long moment.

"It's not my decision to make," he says at last, looking back at his father. And reaching again to fulfill Anakin's request to remove his mask.

He's done the math. Neither of them have a strong grasp of telekinesis. The station is going to fail any moment. Neither are physically strong enough to carry him, even together - he's simply too heavy. And he strongly doubts they are going to drag him with the haste required to remove him and themselves because doing so would, without doubt, cause him further injury.

No, he's not making it off this base alive he is sure. Better they both do.

"Let him. Let me see my son." Not that he'd be able to see well - and would probably be blinded before he died, but it would be more personal than this damned helmet.

The curse she mutters is one he's rather fond of in Huttese. She's picked up her potty mouth from him and from Jocko - the Twi'lek being the closest thing she has to a father.

But she knows what he's thinking. It doesn't take a genius to do the math. "We can get you off. Trust us." She says softly, nodding to the guy - he must be Luke Skywalker - to allow him to take off the helmet. She doesn't stop her work, though. In fact, she does something she probably shouldn't and speeds it up. It'll cost her later, but if it gets Lord Vader off this damned place.

Around them, people are still running, ignoring the little tableau going on with one of the most feared men in the galaxy.

She won't abandon him, though. She won't. Instead, she'll ring herself out, so he can see his son, and can get off this damned atrocity. "We need to hurry." She says, softly. Her Force strength is in her Healing, and she's not even tapped the vast storehouse of strength she has yet.

He glances at the girl again at the curse, raising one eyebrow slightly--but it's not important in the scheme of things. His focus is on his father and the knowledge that he'll never get the man off the station, so this is his only chance. To really know him, after all these years.

He reaches for the clasps at the side of the faceplate, carefully triggering the catch and hearing the hiss of air and wondering, without trying to actually imagine it, what he'll find under there.

...he's more machine now than man...

He knows now that Ben had been wrong. But Luke has only seen inside Anakin Skywalker.

As the mask releases Vader, even still Vader at the moment, not thinking passed that yet. He'd been Vader the last time he'd held his wife, felt their children move, it wasn't something he could slake off so easily. But he knows, as he's known since he first called Luke 'my son' not 'Anakin's son' that the cracks are there and will crumble.

If he survives this.

He raises his hand until it gently landed on Luke's face. "My son." It's soft, more his natural voice than the one granted by the vocal corder.

"You need to get hover loader." To Misa.

She's only heard his voice a couple of times, but it always surprises her to hear how soft it is. She's never really heard it beyond a few words. Misa takes a deep breath. She can divide her attention. Healing him is much easier when she has a hand on him, but she agrees. They need the hover loader.

Standing, her connection to the Force and him wobbles for a moment, before she stabilizes it and runs to get the hover loader. She's still healing him, just not as heavily as before.

Misa fetches the hover loader. She brings it back to them. She wishes she could give them privacy, but now's not the time for it. Once he's at least stable, she can fade into the background, like she's done before and finally allow him time with his son.

"Help me?" She asks softly. She wants to get him... Her eyes go distant, a look that Vader no doubt recognizes as one of her visions 'bothering' her. "We have to go. Now." And she's never been wrong.

"Father." His voice is soft, too, tears in his eyes that are not the lingering effect of pain. He'll feel it later, the effects of the lightning, of the battering his body has taken. Not now. He has never known this man, never known a figure he'd call 'father' (despite more than one man who has held a similar position in his psyche) but his filial devotion is deep and instantaneous. And he wants to linger in the warmth of this broken man's regard, but glancing up at the girl, he knows she's right, somehow.

"We're going to save you," he whispers, to either or both of them. And then he is arranging himself on Anakin's side, opposite the woman, ready to lift him.

He can still sense Misa and that is reassuring. But the girl is too stubborn for her own good, and he can't trust her to do the smart thing and run, leave him behind if things start to go badly. He's not sure he can trust Luke to do it either, not with him alive.

And he wants to pull on Luke a little, have him lean closer but there isn't really time. "In the ways that matter, you have." Because it's important to Luke know that. The cracks in him started appearing years ago, when he claimed a slave child for his rather than leave her there. But it was Luke who shattered those cracks, and he can't pretend otherwise.

"Do it. Quickly." Given he has so gasp for air between words, he's...not going to be talking much now. On his ship but not here.

Misa worries over him. She'll fuss and hover as much as he'll allow - and then some - because he'd saved her. He'd saved her from Treeko, he'd saved her from Habani. He'd saved her from becoming a courtesan at the ripe old age of sixteen.

In some ways, she knows she saved him too. But it's seeing him with his son, his son that she now knows that while she'll always be a part of him, this is where his life is. She doesn't know where that leaves her, or her parents.

Now is not the time to be worried about that. She needs to get him off this decaying structure. With Luke's help, she gets him on the hover loader. She nods to the ship. "Can you..." She shakes her head. He's Vader's son, of course he can. "You fly, I'll tend to him." She directs, because she's the Healer, and while she can fly, she has a feeling this needs a touch that she just doesn't have.

It's definitely going to need all the reflexes he's honed to get them away from this place before it comes down around their ears. As destabilizing as that is, it also means they'd succeeded.

And that his friends are, most likely, all right.

"Right," he says to the girl, which he needs to find out more about, but not now. For now, all that matters is she's here, and she's helping. Where Darth Vader picked up a loyal follower who doesn't appear to be a soldier or maniac is also a question for later.

They move Anakin on the loader to the entrance of the ship, the hatch of which Luke triggers with his mind. He can, distantly, hear the crunch of supports giving way, feel minute changes in pressure that herald even worse, and he realizes he's holding his breath when the hatch closes behind him and he lets it out.

He spares one glance for his father and the girl, sees that there's really nothing more he can do now except fly. So that's what he does--in a flash he's in the pilot's seat, starting the take-off sequence (skipping a few steps, because protocol isn't as important as the precious seconds they'll need to get away) and calling back,

"I'll make it as smooth as I can, but you'd better get him strapped in as quick as you can."

Yes, he'd saved her. What and why? He would have said 'because she was a Force Sensitive child he could shape to his liking without Palpatine's knowledge or interference'. It wouldn't have been a lie, but it wouldn't have been the truth either. He'd done it simply because he was there and he could.

And just a little because she was the wrong age, the wrong species, but still a girl, fleeing something she was afraid of, who'd hidden behind him. Because once, a very small Twi'lek girl, one who would be Luke's age, not Misa's, had fled from Stormtroopers and hidden behind his leg. Not because he wasn't scary but because he was. And much more frightening than those she was also afraid of. And Palpatine wasn't there, not that time, to kill her.

To stop him from taking a 'pet'.

Still, he glares at her over her question towards Luke. Of course Luke can fly. That's his son and look what he's already done. He'd crowed on Mustafar in private about the neigh impossible shot Luke had made, even while she knit together his skin and muscle and bone from Palpatine's anger over Vader's failure to defend the (stupid, waste of time and money, INSULTING!) Death Star.

But he didn't need to say that, he knew she got the message from his glare. Tell him to go he mouthed, and even then just tried to press a sense of reassurance and intense urgency towards Luke. The 'bed' isn't really a bed so much as a life support table and it has magnetic clamps that will latch onto his limbs once he's laying on it. Just go. While he fights off the greying edges of his consciousness until Misa can get the alternate oxygen source hooked up.

She knows she messed up. She can see it on Lord Vader's face. She ducks her head, and gets him on the bed she affectionately calls 'the table'. It's not designed for anyone else save him.

And yes, she's heard nothing for years save Luke Skywalker this, Luke Skywalker that. So, yes, she knows Luke can fly, but she's more worried about getting her Lord safe and secure. Besides, it'd look odd if she didn't ask, wouldn't it? As if someone standing in an Imperial officer's uniform healing Lord Vader isn't odd enough.

"He says go!" She calls up to the front as she starts getting him into place. "Don't wait for us." She calls again, still feeding healing to Lord Vader. She wants him to be okay, and that's probably going to cost her later.

She finally gets the alternate oxygen set up and takes a deep breath. The shuttle shudders and she braces herself to keep from falling on Vader. Instead, she finds a place on the floor, and takes his hand. "Mom will be very perturbed, if you decide to die." She reminds him gently. Her healing increases as she watches the gauges and the readouts. She directs her healing where the Force tells her it needs to go. "Not to mention Dad. He'll run me ragged!" She teases.

He doesn't need to be told. The station is shaking to pieces around them, and it's going to be close, either way. He can't exactly make the ship go faster, but he reaches out to find the best possible path, the route where rubble and bulkhead falls just after they pass, anticipating every shift and current. The shuttle becomes an extension of himself, of his will, and he guides it unerringly through the bursts of sparks and jets of flame that soon engulf the whole Death Star.

He opens up the throttle as soon as he has a clear path, and none too soon, for the shockwave comes barely moments after they clear the hangar and they only escape immolation through Luke's decision to ride the edge of the wave rather than simply try to outrun it.

In the thrall of the Force, he can feel his father behind him, feel... what was that? Energy flowing from the girl to him. Healing him?

He's never even thought about that possibility. There's so much he doesn't know about the Force, so much he may never know. But right now, he is one with all of it, finding the flow that brings them down to the surface of Endor, far from any lingering battle.

Some of the tension in his body relaxes as he hears and feels the magnetics clack and his limbs be held securely. But he didn't actually relax - physically at least - until the alternate oxygen supply is secured to his face with a cooling mist that soothed his face and mouth. There's only so long you can tell your body not to panic when you can't breathe.

"She'll only be perturbed because you'd blame yourself." He gave her hand a squeeze - firm, but not harsh. He's fine. Safe right now, and the burning, twitching, of his muscles from the lightning will fade in time, as will the new scars on his body. The over baring cold of his Force presence retreats, coming back to something warmer. A brisk cold instead of Hoth.

In part because he's reacting towards Luke, both to reassure himself of Luke's safety and being, but also to reassure the boy he's still here. And that he has faith in him to land them all safety.

Misa smiles. She often smiles just for him, because she thinks that he needs it. Something to brighten the day - maybe especially today. She's still holding his hand - the same one he'd once backhanded her with and broken her jaw - feeding the energy into him. "Well, yes. I'm your healer. It's my job to make you as better as I can." She says, softly.

"I mean, I would not wear this outfit for just anyone!" She picks at the crappy fabric that is the Imperial Officers' uniform. Luckily, there are clothes here on his ship for her. She'll change into them in a little bit.

Feeling the soft bump that says they've landed, she bites her lip. It's something she does when she's thinking about something that she isn't sure that Lord Vader is going to like. She has questions about things. Is he going to simply send her back to Mustafar to wait for him? Again? Is he joining the Rebellion? (Misa has no political affiliations, but she has to wonder.) Where does she fit in in all of this? What about his son? Does she answer to him now? She understands that she is not on equal footing with Lord Vader, but what about Luke Skywalker? How does she address him? So many more questions swirl through her mind and she tries to keep them to herself.

She looks up when Luke comes back. "Endor?" She asks, softly. "I should change." She squeezes Vader's hand again and stands. With familiarity, she starts looking through the ship. While she'd brought clothes, she forgot where she hid them.

He takes a moment before unstrapping himself and coming back. The landing had been fine, the least momentous thing that's happened in the past forty-eight hours.

But it might turn out to be the first step on something even more significant. Because this is the first act he's committed that does not have a destined end. Oh, whatever the Force has in mind, he'll learn. But this is not the end of anything. It's not the consequence of an avalanche that had begun when he'd brought Artoo into the workshop. It's something new, the thing that comes after.

And it's actually been years since Luke has thought about 'after' in anything but the dreamiest of terms.

Taking a deep breath, he steps to the back of the ship, taking in the apparatus keeping his father alive, thinking vaguely that this was not the way things were 'supposed' to have gone. He's fiercely grateful for that.

"You'll definitely not want to get caught in that," he says, eyeing her uniform. He doesn't know what it all means, or who she is, but he has no desire to pursue it right now. It's going to be enough of a challenge keeping Darth Vader alive--in more ways than one.

While she's searching for her clothes, he moves to his father's side. There is time, now, to take him in. To look at the fissures of scarring of what he can still see of the man's face. To be next to the sheer bulk of him, when he is not trying to run or fight or plead.

"Father," he says quietly, a lingering question in his voice. For as much as Anakin has done for him, there are still questions about what Luke is to him, exactly.

He knows she wouldn't willingly - or unwillingly in most cases - were the cheap, manufactured fabric Imperial uniforms are made from. He knows she's itching to get out of them. "Go find somewhere to change." It's a gentle dismissal but also about protecting Luke from objecting to Misa simply stripping into her actual clothing. The girl had been raised to have no body modesty when he'd found her. He'd long since had to give up his own in the face of medical droids - eventually, he'd been able to ignore the fact she was looking at him to strip and give her better access to what she was working on.

Being from Tatooine and not a slave, Luke...was likely unused to casual nudity.

"My son." Distantly, he is aware of another situation like this. Himself in Luke's place, his mother in his own. She'd called to him the same way. He wasn't really meaning to echo her, but he did understand now more the emotion behind the words. "My beautiful son." His. Padmé's. The beautiful, compassionate boy so like Anakin she'd claimed to know she was carrying. He offered up his hand, inviting him to close into the space. To be closer.

She stops, her shirt halfway up her back, when her Lord tells her to find somewhere to change. She glances at Luke and rolls her eyes. Look, she understands that there are people unused to casual nudity. She understands that some people have problems with those without body modesty. But she doesn't see the point of not just stripping and getting out of this crappy uniform.

But, she'd been given an order, so she gathers up her clothing and lowers the ramp to the ship. She'll step outside, and let them have a few moments of peace and privacy. No doubt she probably should eat, but there's only rations aboard, and well... she has a visceral reaction to them. Her mom has spoiled her when it comes to fresh food. She hates rations.

She finds a rock to sit on, once she's changed - now in a blue, backless and knee-length dress with bell sleeves, embroidered within an inch of its life with her boots on. She wonders if she can set fire to the officer's uniform she was wearing, just by willing it. (Probably not.) Instead, she hooks her saber on her belt and settles in to meditate. She can feel the exhaustion and pain radiating from the two men in the ship, but she doubts they'd welcome the intrusion right at the moment, even if it was for their own good. So, she does what she's usually expected to do: settle to meditate by doing her saber forms. Igniting the purple blade, she starts to work.

There's a reddish tinge to his cheeks, though it's dark in the main area of the ship. Is it the fact the girl had been about to strip? Or was it the later words of his father, inviting him, accepting him in?

Odd to think he craves it so, given the last time Vader had issued an invitation and Luke had rejected it with all the strength left to him. But this is different. Everything is different. He steps closer, unafraid, reaching for Anakin's hand and weaving his fingers between the gloved ones. This hand had caused so much death. And had saved his life. Luke's love for his father is the core of a thousand suns, steady and deep and unquestionable. But he does not know him.

"What she did," he begins, because there is so much to talk about but he is aware that he does not know how much time there is, "will it... cure you? Are you...?"

...going to live? he does not finish.

He reached out, locating Misa. Making sure, double checking, her location and her safety. He can almost feel her desire and he approves, for reasons different than her own. Burning the uniform would be a good signal of what she isn't.

Luke's fingers in his makes him sure to keep his touch light. Gentle. He still pulls, dragging Luke a bit closer to him. "She stabilized. There's no curing this body, Palpatine's plans hinged on that, on my not being able to survive outside the Empire and it's resources." But Vader had planned around him as best as possible and had worked around him. Had found a way. "I'm not going to die tonight at least." He knows the question. Tries to reassure without lying.

She can feel the pain and uncertainty from the men in the ship. She's always been like water on sand: spreading and seeking the nooks and crannies to touch everything. It's just the way her Force presence is. Lord Vader has taught her to contain it somewhat, but sometimes, she just doesn't and is just part of Life, and just is.

Here, on Endor, there's a lot more Life to get lost in, to be able to sense, than there is on Mustafar. She's spent the bulk of her time there, the last seven years.

But, she ignores their pain, just as Lord Vader taught her to - it makes her a better healer if she isn't so caught up in pain that she can't focus - and works through her saber combinations, settling her mind and her body. The time on the Death Star had taken its toll on her, hiding from Palpatine, hiding her existence half of her life, and blocking out all the emotions on that contraption.

She begins working up speed as she releases her emotions, finally. The fear, the worry, the anger at Palpatine dying before she could unleash on him for what he's done to Lord Vader over the years, for dying before she could visit some of the same damned torture he'd put Vader through.

But being here, knowing Vader is - mostly - safe, soothes her. The Life around them, soothes her nerves and although she speeds up, she's in control. She knows her Lord is keeping tabs on her, his presence is - believe it or not - a comfort to her. She sends him back the equivalent of a saucy wink - mental communication is something she cannot do, really, but impressions are easy enough - and keeps going.

Luke nods, taking that for what it's worth. He knows it won't be easy--in any sense. But he knows that he is there, and he will fight. And, apparently, so will the girl.

As will Anakin.

There is no fear in him now, no doubt. He believes in his father, believes that no matter how difficult, he has turned. That it is not simply possible, but true. The Dark Side is not permanent. And the certainty he feels, the unflagging loyalty, is palpable around him.

"Then we will stay here for the night," he says, "make a plan in the morning. What do you need? What do..." He glances over his shoulder at the hatch. "Who is she?"

Misa is as settled as current circumstances allow. She won't be truly settled until he is inside a Bacta tank, her parents near-by, and positions clarified. He knows this. He knows it will be some time - days in the least - until that is the case. There isn't much to be done there. His bacta tank had gone done on the I love Kriffing Stupid Ideas 2.0

While his attention is never completely off Misa - she's his and injured and with a limited physical range or not, he'd lethally defend was what his - he can shift more of his attention of Luke. Allows his presence to wrap around and bump against Luke. Not nearly as cold, as Dark, but not yet all warmth or Light - it's not a heel-turn, but a slow bleed that's been happening since he found out who Luke Skywalker was. ~~Padmé's son.~~ But he's reflecting warmth at least - hours ago, that wasn't the case.

"Time. Rest. Bacta eventually. You've done what we needed Luke." Was he saying his name a lot? Too much? He didn't know. He could say it openly, to the boy, and he enjoyed saying it, and how being in Luke's presence and saying his name made him feel. "Her name is Misa. I found her years ago when she was a child, and kept her instead of giving her over to Palpatine." The rest - the system she was from, that she'd been a slave - those things were for Misa to decide to share or not and to whom, not for him to tell.

Her Lord needs bacta. She's pondering it, as her body moves through the positions that he's taught her. He needs bacta and people he trusts to help him. Meaning she needs to get her parents and Aphra somewhere close by. While she can do the healing he needs, he can now actually heal and that will require bacta and strength she doesn't possess, sadly.

But will the Rebels give up precious bacta to someone they hated? Maybe they should head to Mustafar, and stay there. At least until Lord Vader is back on his feet. She can keep him stable and work on some of his other issues, while in hyperspace.

Feeling something approaching, she pauses in her work and waits, patiently, exuding nonthreatening. The small creature rustles the bush and steps into the light. Well, the small creature would make a decent meal for her and Skywalker. And she'll need to eat... Sighing, she flips her vibroknife and impales the creature through the head. Soft grey fur covers it and she runs her hands over it. It still hurts to kill, but she will not eat rations if she can help it.

The small creature, about the size of a Loth-cat, would have enough meat on it to serve the two of them. Putting the Imperial shirt back on, she quickly dresses the animal, even preserving the skin. Her dad will like it if nothing else. Then, she peels out of the bloody shirt and is relieved that no blood had landed on her dress. (She's ruined more outfits...)

Instead of going back to her meditation, she starts making camp for them, avoiding going back on the ship for as long as she can. But when she does, she hears Lord Vader give a very edited version of their relationship. "He saved me." She says, looking for a few things that her father had put on board just in case. Finding them, she smiles. "I killed something for dinner, since you should eat and I need to eat before I continue helping either of you." She is a bossy little thing when she's in full healer mode.

His mind is racing, and there are too many thoughts to handle at once--this is probably why he should be spending more time meditating, but he can't do that now. There is so much uncertainty ahead of them, so many things to be decided and figured out. The Death Star is gone, but the war is not over. His friends don't know what happened to him--they might even think he was on the station when it blew.

Would Leia feel it, if he had died? He can feel her, on this planet. Her presence is constant now, even more since he told her their secret.

But there's his father, who needs supplies. There's the girl, who Anakin 'kept' and Luke doesn't even know what that means. And there's the feeling radiating from Anakin, one Luke does not shy away from because he is no longer afraid of being 'tainted.' He has made one decision at least, and that is that he will never turn his father away. Or shut him out.

He turns to watch Misa as she rummages. "Surely we have rations," he says, a bit inanely but he's used to rations. Fresh meat is something he barely knows what to do with. "And I can get bacta from the Alliance. Whatever we need."

He has not, of course, thought any of this through.

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don't look too close at my physics ok

look this is Star Wars not Star Trek. We can hand wavey the physics.

I like Hand Wavey Physics. I would take that as a major and go back to school.

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