A/N: Well, everyone, I'm happy to announce that we've reached the FINAL 5 (approx.) chapters! How's that!? Who's excited for Episode 6? I know I am! The title will be announced soon; I've already decided on it but want to wait until we're closer to "the end" before unveiling it.

Otherwise, THANK you, for those of you who reviewed my last chappie. Your feedback is always appreciated! For those of you who have yet to review, I hope you'll drop at least a couple words before I wrap up this fic. You've got 5 opportunities left, so *puppy eyes* I hope you'll consider leaving me some input before we reach "the end."

As for those who reviewed under generic accounts and I can't PM:

Guest (great story): Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it.

Guest 2: Thank you for your kind words. Luke is in a position, I agree, to negotiate with Vader. We'll see how that pans out.

Krysta: Your reviews always make me laugh. Thanks for your keen insights and wonderful words. I hope this chapter brings some of your suspense a little closure.

Anyhow, I know it's been FOREVER since I uploaded so really quick: I got laid off from my job, had to get a new job, started back to college (my last semester for this degree before transferring!) Started looking for a new college to finish the degree I want, had about 1K in truck repairs happen because: WINTER, and have gotten 3 professional certs plus am working on 2 more. Oh, and family stuff galore and I've had the flu and a respiratory virus. So, you know, I've been soooo bored lately.

And…since the above, I've gotten a new full-time job, transferred to that new college, and am 10 months from graduation. I begin Grad School this July and currently have the respiratory infection that's going around…so that's been fun. Oye.

But again, SO many 'thank you's' to everyone who's been PM-ing me for updates and keeping in touch. An extra thank you to Fire Shifter for her ongoing PM's to 'check in' on me and keep me honest. Also, to Flaremontgomery for their recent and lengthy reviews; plus, all of the new crowd who has found this fic and left me some feedback. I'm infinitely grateful for your support; and again: I WILL complete this fic. And then 6 and 7. It will no doubt take longer than I'd originally thought, but it will happen regardless. So, please continue to bear with me with your incredible patience as I navigate the suckiness of RL to get this done!

Well, that's it for now. As always, Star Wars is not mine…we're just here because of fun—and cause Vader is SO bad ass!

Onward!

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Star Wars Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch. 51- Cancel the Cell

Piett watched as the freighter drew ever closer; a few more minutes and it would be done.

The easier part, at least. His men had reported that the infamous skiff had been spotted on Bespin too. The Admiral's stomach twisted as he wondered how much longer it would be before the black-chrome plated monstrosity loomed into view, brandishing its nightmarish teeth.

The battle for Hoth pierced his thoughts, how close they'd come to feeling the Specter's wrath unleashed. Had Lord Vader not intervened in time—

No; enough. Piett cleared his throat softly and straightened. This was not becoming the Senior Admiral. He observed the freighter for a few seconds more, then turned to the captain.

"Captain Terric, I am going to personally inspect the hangers to ensure they are ready to accommodate our new…arrivals."

Terric, to his credit, only clipped his heels together dutifully. "Yessir."

Piett quickly strode away.

The hangers would be his final destination, but not his immediate one.

XXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Artoo!" Han barked over the comm. "We need you in the engine room!"

"Oh my," Threepio said as Artoo welded his limbs back together, "so rude. Why don't we just go to light-speed?"

Artoo bleeped.

"We can't? How would you know the hyper-drive has been deactivated?"

A derisive splutter, followed a welding arm waving all around them.

"Well, of course I can see that we haven't," Threepio retorted, "but it's not like you plugged into the city's central computer. Lieutenant Sunber had access cards, I was there. And even if you did speak to a strange computer—"

Artoo made a final series of cheeps that sounded too sarcastic for Threepio's liking before wheeling away, clearly headed for the engine room.

"Artoo! Come back at once! You haven't finished with me yet!"

XXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXX

"Okay," Han began, "I can sort of see now, but not really. But Lando printed onto this data card what those guys at Solidarity said Cloud City's computer said is wrong with the hyper-drive."

He probed Artoo's outer casing with his fingers to find the right port, and slid the data card in. "There." He knelt on one knee and patted Artoo's side. "Okay, go to it. We're counting on you."

Artoo let out a series of confident cheeps and whirls and trundled over to a nearby side panel.

XXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXX

Typho swung his fighter over the Executor, nimbly dodging the melee storm of TIE's whizzing past him, taking pot shots. It was clear none of them believed that his one old-model fighter would be enough to challenge them.

That was fine; he preferred to be underestimated. Granted, the stats said they were probably right. But his ship had been…modified.

He pushed a series of buttons arming his covert weapons array.

The Revenant wasn't the only old ship that boasted brand new, and extremely illicit teeth.

XXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXX

Piett navigated the less-traversed side corridors and made his way to Veers' office. Thankfully, the aide was away, and he slipped through quietly, and knocked on the dura-steel door.

A voice barked for him to enter.

When he found Veers, the taller man was at his large desk, roaming though a series of data pads, watching the recordings grimly.

"Max."

"Firmus, I didn't mean for you to come this soon. Lord Vader won't be pleased if he finds out—"

"He'll only find out if you make this longer than needed, Max."

The other sighed in acceptance, and handed him a data pad. "Look at this."

Firmus took the proffered pad, pressed the activator and a holo-image sprang over the pad. He recognized it instantly.

"This shuttle, it's marked with the Royal Imperial Crest."

"It is…and it landed on Bespin about an hour and a half ago."

Piett's lips parted in amazement. "You are implying that His Majesty came to Bespin, perhaps to supervise the Specter's capture personally, but chose not to inform us beforehand?"

Veers face was etched with something intense…but inscrutable. "That is exactly what I'm saying, Firmus. Moreover, Lord Vader revealed nothing of this plan to us…which means: he either was ordered to keep it secret. Or…."

He didn't finish.

"Lord Vader was told nothing as well," Piett breathed, looking away in disbelief.

"Firmus," Veers gravely began, standing, and it wasn't lost on the Admiral that he had to grasp his desk for support, making him grimace in disapproval. Veers only gave a flat, obstinate look in reply before saying: "If His Majesty has kept us all in the dark about this plan…it begs to ask: why?"

The Admiral nodded dourly, and then his attention was riveted to the ceiling –when everything around them suddenly shook.

The ship trembled for several seconds, metal groaning all around them in protest, then stilled again.

The pair of men only glanced with wide eyes at each other before Piett bolted for the door, Veers close behind.

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Anytime now, Artoo!" Han called from the cockpit, as he banged on a panel to make it work again.

"Ahem, sir," Threepio replied loudly, over the cacophony of blaster shots rocking the vessel and the return fire coming from Leia and the Jedi, "Artoo says that he has nearly repaired the hyper-drive."

"Tell him 'nearly' needs to become 'now'!"

XXXXXX

XXXXXXXXX

Artoo's one repair arm worked rapidly, twisting undone parts back into place and suddenly the blinking red back-light switched to a solid blue.

He bleeped in triumph and Threepio exclaimed: "You did it!"

XXXXXXX

XXXXXXXX

"What do you mean: you heard Luke say he wants to go with Vader!?" Biggs yelled.

"It's what I heard!" Mouse cried, panic saturating his tone. "He just admitted it! Noc! Get our audio back on! We gotta break whatever dark-thing-hold Vader's doing to the boss!"

Biggs' heart sank. Mind control. That had to be it. Vader had to be brainwashing Luke.

He grabbed the controls and swerved the ship around. Tank seized the back of Biggs's seat.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going back for Luke. I don't care if we have to torpedo the city in two. You two," he added to Link and Mouse, "get audio open to Luke. Tell him we're coming. We gotta get him out of there, now."

Noc only gave him a patronizing stare, then clicked a talon into a port beside his foot. The audio control lights on the ship's panel went from red to green.

Biggs could only roll his eyes. "I'm glad you at least know what you're doing, Noc."

The cheeky falcon only clanked his beak smugly in reply.

"You two, hurry up! We"—

But Link and Mouse were already shouting at Luke in their comms.

XXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Force rippled through Luke at Vader's words, seeping the truth of them through him, straight to his core.

It was true, he couldn't deny it any longer; he couldn't run from it any longer: he did long to go with his father.

Hadn't this been the moment he'd waited for all his life? Hadn't that been what he'd told Yoda back on Dagobah? That he sought for closure, for what took his mother from him, to understand why he'd never know her in this life?

And then: track down his father. Because Luke always knew, deep down, that his father was alive. Something in him never wavered from the certainty: his father had survived, that the Jedi were wrong about his father being struck down in the war. Obi-Wan was wrong.

He'd always felt it, like his own breath, the flow of his own blood: his father was out there, somewhere.

And so he'd never given up the search, he'd torn the galaxy apart to trace his father. And what had he confessed to Yoda, what had his dream been?

That we'd walk away, and be a family.

He was a fool; a blind fool oblivious to the long stream of clues that always pointed him to the truth.

The dark side cave had been right: he saw, but did not see.

And even now, he'd seen his longing, his craving for connection to his family…but some part of him had refused to see…until Vader told him he had seen it, so Luke could deny it no longer.

The dark side always seemed to unveil his inner self long before he did; something about that realization made Luke go cold all over.

No, no more lying to himself, no more denial. If he didn't face the reality of what he was and what he wanted, Yoda had warned the dark side would use it to destroy him.

Him, and the galaxy with him.

He took a breath, and forced his shrieking emotions into quieting.

"I do," he professed, the words slowly unwinding the manacles wrapping around his soul, crushing and suffocating as long as he could recall, "…but not like this."

Because if he did, Vader would finish what Dromerick started, but it would lead to a more terrible end. Dromerick had turned him into a monster against his will; but Vader? His father would expect him to become a new kind of monster, a Sith version of the Specter…and by his own free will.

He envisioned Biggs' warning: Vader commanding him to slaughter his friends. He pictured them lying dead, scattereds around him, their heads severed from their bodies…their necks sizzling with the lingering heat of a crimson lightsaber.

A lightsaber he could feel the weight of, in his hand.

No; he had to protect his friends. He had to shield them from Vader…and himself. And what he could become.

Suddenly, his helmet's comm came alive:

"Boss! Boss! Are you there!? Everything's going straight down the kriffer! Answer me!"

Link. And behind him, he caught Mouse yelling something about the Falcon being unable to jump to hyperspace.

Oh…no.

XXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Piett and Veers reached the bridge, and Captain Terric seemed to telepathically sense their approach, because he rounded on them just as they marched up behind him.

"Sir!" Terric exclaimed, his body rigid with the forced control of a tenured officer, but Piett didn't miss his paled complexion, or the thin veneer of sweat forming on his brow.

"The Millennium Falcon has nearly reached the detainment hanger…but we have another….difficulty."

Piett felt the knot return to his stomach. "The Revenant?"

He could practically feel the men around him cringe. Apparently there was a widely held belief that even saying the name of the Specter's nightmarish ship was no different than invoking some sort of curse, or doom.

Terric only shook his head, and before Piett could press further, there was a blinding flash of light, and the ship rocked violently again.

"Sirs!" a lieutenant called from the control pit behind them. "The Nubian fighter struck our aft shields. Direct hit."

In his peripherals, Piett caught Veers balk. "A 'Nubian fighter'?! Are you serious!?"

"It's armored," Terric supplied, "and its weapons, are like…the assassin's."

Piett pursed his lips, feeling fresh anger warm his bones. "So, the Specter has a subordinate with illegal and immoral weaponry to match his own." He riveted onto the control pit. "Get a tractor beam on that fighter. He can join the Specter's other…friends, in our detention cells."

Another officer shook his head. "We've tried, sir. It's too fast. And its armor, it's like our tractor beams slide right off it."

"Fine," Veers bit out, gesturing, "then we'll cancel the cell. We have blaster cannons, don't we? Use them!"

Piett held his tongue at Max's breach of protocol; he was still healing and clearly frustrated beyond words that he was powerless to fix this debacle.

He was the ultimate perfectionist.

Piett turned to Terric. "It may seem…excessive but order our fighters to focus on that ship; we can't afford any more delays. Get rid of the Nubian fighter. We know who will make his appearance soon enough. We need to deal with these rebels before their leader comes for them."

Terric soberly nodded and turned to an officer seated to his left.

XXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Hey all, I was going to make this longer, but you've waited for MORE than long enough. Again, thanks billions for waiting on this. I will finish it, I just don't know how fast. This respiratory infection is pretty bad, so any thoughts, prayers and/or positive energy you want to send my way is VERY appreciated.

Next chappie will have more of Luke and Vader; promise! Cheers!

LC Lane