A single command from the Lord Darth Vader set the entire First Fleet abuzz with activity, ships and crewers alike scurrying about to carry out his orders. It didn't take much to get the Executor and her attending Star Destroyers battle-ready, but everyone hopped to prepare regardless--checking targeting systems, priming weapons, fueling fighters, crew and pilots scrambling to their stations.

Then they all had to wait for their leader to communicate with the Emperor. That would determine for certain whether the operation would continue, or they would all go back on standby. Not that any of them knew what they were getting ready for.

Deep within his private quarters in the bridge section of his Super Star Destroyer, Darth Vader sent a priority comm to his master--then, much like his crew, had to wait for the Emperor to reply. Typical military beaurocracy; Empire, Republic, Jedi, or otherwise, an endless cycle of hurry up and wait.

He caught himself tapping his foot impatiently. Frowning, he stilled his movements; it did not do for a Sith Lord to be hurried or anxious, regardless of how often or how long he had to wait on his master.

Still, twenty minutes was a damned long time, especially for an urgent signal. Sometimes his master's sense of priority was rather...skewed.

At last, the light on the comm panel went on--a transmission from Coruscant was coming in. A blue-tinged holographic image blurred to life before him, dominating the entire wall of the chamber and staring down at him with bored yellow eyes.

Darth Vader knelt low, bowing before the self-proclaimed Emperor of the known universe. "Greetings, my Master," he began respectfully. "Thank you for replying in haste to my call." Untrue, but it never hurt to stroke Emperor Palpatine's rather bloated ego. It always made him more agreeable.

"Indeed. And what about this situation sends you running to me in such a hurry, my friend?" Palpatine's bored look turned to one of slight amusement. "I am no longer accustomed to holding your hand through these routine missions."

Behind the mask, Vader grimaced--but kept his tone civil. "I trust you read the briefing I sent, Master."

"I did." A bit of the bored look began to return. "And I don't see why you wish to waste time, energy, and my Empire's resources chasing after a man we both know to be dead."

"I don't wish to chase the man, Master," Vader protested. "He's gone. Dead and buried. What I want is to find out who has the temerity to speak in his name--and see them suitably punished."

The Emperor cackled briefly, as if his apprentice had just told a joke. "Why in all the Sith Hells do you care? I had thought the name meant nothing to you."

"The name itself means nothing." Vader's fists clenched, but something inside him flinched at his master's words. "But whoever is using it could be--"

"Could be nothing more than a prankster seeking fame," Palpatine scoffed. "The Jedi are extinct, Lord Vader. Besides, no one of any real importance would use that name, and anyone else is just a pretender looking for a little attention. Let one of the Ops commanders see to it. I have more important things for you to do, my friend."

"Master, I--"

"I have long been aware that the Rebels have been using old beacons for their covert messages, and by leaving these beacons online, we have gathered a great deal of intelligence on their movements," Palpatine went on casually. "I believe the transmission was sent to the Rebels, and if it is such a directed beam as the report states, you should be able to trace it to whatever base it was sent to. I trust you know what to do."

"Yes, Master. But what about--?"

"Just track them down and wipe them out. I will send my own men to see to this...rumor on Naboo."

"But Master--"

Palpatine's scowl cut him off without a sound. Under his mask, Vader's frown was equally thunderous, and his fists were so tight they creaked, but he offered no more protest.

"Your mission is the Rebels, Lord Vader. You will carry it out, first and foremost," the Emperor snapped. "I want every Rebel within three systems of that base eliminated."

"Yes, my Master," the Sith Lord gritted out.

"And stay away from Naboo."

With that, the transmission was abruptly ended, cut off from the Coruscant side. The Emperor was obviously displeased with him.

At the moment, though, he was angry enough not to care. Why he was angry was difficult to say, but he told himself it was because he couldn't go chase down the Jedi pretender. Eliminating the odd Jedi was practically his first duty--it had been since the first days of the Empire. Why now did his master deny him his prey? What was so important about eliminating some little Rebel base--something that any of his captains could do? It took more than an Imperial Special Ops team to kill a Jedi--even an amateur one.

Still in a furious mood, he left his chambers and strode for the bridge, trying to walk off his ire. Anger gave him power; thoughtless rage accomplished nothing. He could kill a dozen crewers in his temper and still be stuck crushing one measly Rebel base.

"Ah, Lord Vader!" Admiral Ozzel, commanding officer of the Executor, addressed him with a salute. "The First Fleet stands ready, my Lord. At your command."

"At the Emperor's command," Vader growled. "Set your course for the Republic transmitter beacon, Admiral. We have a Rebel base to track down."

"At once, my Lord!" Gleeful at the prospect of an easy victory, Ozzel quickstepped off to give his orders.

As the Executor prepared to jump to hyperspace, accompanied by her fleet, Vader brooded at the bridge viewscreens like a black cloud, his gaze fixed on the deep dark between the stars.

Removing his gnarled hand from the comm switch, Palpatine sat back in his throne and scowled down at his second audience. The hologram of the uniformed officer bowed lower under his scrutiny, his military posture never wavering.

"Lord Vader is anxious about this impostor," the Emperor stated, his scowl never abating. "There is much at stake here, Commander. When you arrive at the site on Naboo, kill everyone and everything you find there. Destroy any sources of information. I don't want so much as a serving droid intact when you leave."

"Yes sir, your Highness."

"You know the drill. No one knows of this mission other than Lord Vader and myself. Avoid contact with other Imperial troops, and do not let them hinder your objective. I expect you can reach Naboo quickly from your current position."

"I obey, your Highness." The distant soldier saluted once again. "My Lord...what of Lord Vader himself, sir?"

"My apprentice would not disobey me, Commander," Palpatine snapped quickly, his voice echoing. "Do not so lightly suggest it!"

The soldier all but prostrated himself. "My apologies, my Lord Emperor! I was thoughtless."

"Indeed." Palpatine's eyes narrowed, and he regarded his subordinate for long moments. "Commander Telm...if Lord Vader comes to Naboo...do not let him interfere."

Telm gulped, but bowed once more. "Yes, my Lord Emperor."

When the argument began, most of the other commanders made hasty exits, not wanting to get caught in no-man's-land. The only ones who remained were the comm officers who had to stay at their posts--and Artoo, who was still plugged into a console and was nosy besides.

Not even General Rieekan wanted to be in the same room with Princess Leia when she was in a temper--especially in those rare times when she was mad at Luke Skywalker. No matter how civil she could be in an argument, she could strip paint off a Star Destroyer at a hundred meters with her barbed words. Luke, who was a lowly pilot, hero or not, really had no business arguing back at a superior--but oddly enough, he was the only person besides Captain Solo who could stand up to her for long.

And even Han Solo eventually folded under the force that was Hurricane Leia. But not Luke--as far as stubbornness went, the princess and the pilot were a matched pair. The General had never seen two people with more indomitable wills than they.

Consequently, he gave the resulting explosion a wide berth.

"What do you mean I can't go?" Luke demanded, recovered enough from his shock to reach indignation. "I've got more at stake in this than anyone here--"

"That's exactly the point, Luke--you're too close to this to make the right choices," Leia replied--seemingly calm and rational, but adamant. "Besides, you're our best pilot right now. We can't afford to lose you over something like this."

"Something like this?" Luke shot back, ignoring the looks from the comm operators. "That could be my father out there--he could be alive, Leia--and I can't go find him? What if he needs help? Stars, what if the Empire finds him first?" He began to pace in frustration.

"It could also be nothing," Leia responded, hands on hips, so far refusing to budge out of patient explanation. "It could be a hoax. It could be some outdated bit of scrap data from twenty years ago. We don't know--and we can't take the risk."

"No one else has to risk anything!" Luke retorted. "I'll go myself. I can find out where it came from and go there--"

"Just in time to trip an Imperial snare? I don't think so, Luke. I can't let the Alliance lose its best pilot on a snook chase--"

"Snook chase?" Luke snapped, whirling on her. "My father is out there and you call it a snook chase?"

"Now that's enough!" The princess upped her volume, her reserve fading in the face of his ire. "This isn't just about you! You don't know if Anakin Skywalker is really out there. Think, Luke--why would it take so long for him to make himself known?"

"Gah--I don't know!" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't know anything! But he could be alive!"

"I know you want him to be, but there are bigger things right now," she tried to explain reasonably, her stubbornness tempered with sympathy. "There are lives at stake here--we already have to evacuate and we need our pilots. Maybe when Han gets back--"

"What about the mission to destroy the beacon?" Luke asked quickly, brightening with hope. "Let me lead it! You said yourself I'm the best pilot. At least then I could find out where to look, and later--"

Leia was already shaking her head. "It's too risky. Luke...I don't know if you'll be able to make an unbiased decision. Like if you had to destroy the transmitter before accessing its memory, to keep the Empire from obtaining it. People will die if the Empire gets ahold of our transmission data."

"I'll do what I have to do," Luke replied earnestly. "I won't risk you or the Alliance. I promise. I just...Leia, if there's a even a chance..."

She closed her eyes with a sigh, trying to hide how affected she was by the raw plea in his voice. Somehow, she'd developed a soft spot for the reckless young pilot and would-be Jedi student--stubborn and careless as he seemed, he could be very sweet, and was one of the kindest people she'd ever met. His innocence even in the face of war was charming and endearing, and almost made her want to mother him; despite the fact that they were near exactly the same age, his naiveté always made her feel years older, and she often just didn't have the heart to turn him down. No matter how she tried to reason with him, even outright command him, he always ended up doing whatever he pleased, sometimes straight into danger--yet still somehow managed to make it all turn out alright.

And maybe, just maybe, he outmatched her for sheer willfulness.

When she opened her eyes again, he was still giving her that woeful, pleading look. Oh for spreet's sake! He could melt a Sith's heart with that face!

"Alright...fine," she all but growled. "You can have command of the mission. You and two other pilots can fly out, grab any data you can get, and destroy the beacon when you're done."

With a grin that outshone a good many supernovas, he swept her up in an exuberant hug. "Thanks, Leia! You won't regret it, I promise! As soon as I can find my father, you'll see--he's the best pilot in the galaxy and Ben told me--"

"Okay, okay, okay...!" Gently but firmly, she detached him from her torso and put him at arms' length, pointedly ignoring the snicker from the comm controller. Not a single other pilot in the Alliance begs for missions with puppy eyes and then hugs their superior when they get it, she sighed to herself. "Luke, I'm only doing this because I trust you--and I'm hoping you do make the right decision when the time comes. If there's even a hint of Imperial activity, you have to blow the beacon and get out of there. We'll set up a rendezvous, but if you or your pilots don't make it to the pickup point in time, you won't make it to the new location. And I don't have to tell you what that means."

Luke nodded somberly at her. "Big trouble, I know. But nothing's going to happen--the Empire isn't even sniffing at this end of the galaxy."

"Luke, I'm serious," she stated quietly, squeezing his shoulder. "The Alliance can't afford to lose you--not now. You're not just our best pilot...you're our only Jedi. Trained or not," she spoke over his attempt at protest, "we need you. Since the purges, the galaxy's not exactly heavily-populated with Force-sensitives, and right now you're all we've got. As a pilot and potential Jedi, you're probably the greatest asset the Alliance has."

Embarrassed by her frank praise, Luke shrugged and looked down. "I'm not that important..."

"I know how much this means to you, Luke. Just make sure you don't take unnecessary risks. Make sure you come back." She offered him a smile. "Who would I have to boss around if you weren't here?"

Luke laughed. "Everybody else on the base?"

Laughing herself now, Leia shoved him toward the door. "Alright, get out of here. You wanted your mission, now get busy. You and your pilots leave by nineteen-hundred hours."

"Yessir! I mean, ma'am! And thank you!" With a jolly salute, he all but bounded out the door, off to round up two willing volunteers to go with him. She heard him whooping joyfully as he headed out of the farmhouse.

"Stars, he is such a kid sometimes," she murmured to herself, with an affectionate shake of her head. It was no wonder Han's little term of endearment got used so frequently.

"Young indeed, but a brilliant pilot nonetheless," spoke the voice of General Jan Dodonna from the doorway, as the elderly leader stepped in. "He is an ideal choice to handle a fighter mission such as this one, Princess."

"I don't doubt his skills," Leia sighed, crossing her arms pensively. "It's his tendency to dive in over his head that has me worried."

The general smiled as he came through the door. "And in many situations we've had since he signed on with us, if he had not 'dived in,' we would have suffered many more losses than we have. And all that from a young man who has never had formal training or even sat in the cockpit of an X-wing before he came to us. For someone who's logged less than half the official flight time of most of our squad pilots, he far surpasses their scores. You would not be wrong to have some faith in him, Princess."

"I wouldn't have sent him if I didn't believe in him," Leia retorted with a fervor she didn't really feel. "I'm only concerned about what could happen if he runs into the Imperial patrol group that could also be after that transmission."

"You're not old enough to remember many stories from the Clone Wars, are you?" Dodonna asked gently, leaning on his cane. "The name Skywalker rings a few bells among the older pilots, and most especially those of us who held commands in the Old Republic. Anakin Skywalker was a hero in the Clone Wars, Princess. I never met the man, but I heard tales of how he could turn the tide of entire battles. Many will agree, his piloting skills were second to none, and as a Jedi Knight he had no equal."

"I have heard things about him before, General. But he's...dead..." Leia trailed off as she realized her words could be wrong.

"Perhaps not, Princess." Dodonna cocked an eyebrow. "We should count ourselves blessed if Anakin Skywalker is still among the living. Warriors of his caliber are rare indeed--and if young Luke has even a half-measure of his father's skills, we are lucky to have him with us."

"So...you're hoping the message is really from Anakin Skywalker?" she asked, almost incredulously.

"I do. And were he to fight for us..." The old man fixed her with an intent gaze. "I would be honored and glad to have that man on our side."

Silently, Leia agreed--such a man as Dodonna described would make a valuable and impressive ally. But still, she had her doubts--and a dark foreboding that made chills crawl up her spine. "I don't know, though...I have a bad feeling about this whole thing," she stated, shivering a little. "Whether Skywalker is alive or not, we're still in danger. We need to start the evacuation as soon as possible."

Dodonna nodded. "I'll inform the squad leaders. Our fighters will prepare for escort duty."

"Thank you, General."

As the older man left, Leia found herself staring at the innocent monitor again, rereading the brief message displayed there The address seemed to flash at her, though the text remained the same--and she could have sworn she'd seen that sequence of letters and numbers somewhere before.

Beside the console, Artoo chirped a brief interrogative.

"Once again, you're causing quite a stir," Leia murmured, gazing down at the innocent droid. "How is it you're always at the center of these things?"

Artoo whistled again, this time something that sounded rather like an apologetic shrug.

She patted the astromech's round dome. "It's alright. You'd better unplug and go help Luke--he'll be wanting to get started soon."

Artoo chirped, cheerful this time, and obeyed. Murmuring to himself, the little droid trundled out the door in search of his master.

That left Leia alone in the "intel center" with the two comm operators and the scanner controller. "Continue scanning for Imperial ships and frequencies in the system," she ordered, heading for the door herself. "And make sure everyone knows that we'll be leaving by oh-nine-hundred tomorrow."

She was gone before they could salute and reply, her steps brisk and her mind swirling with doubts.