Advise please
Feb. 9th, 2005 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdThis is the next installment in my "Across oceans of Space" AU. I borrowed this universe from The Mud Dwarf. It's sort of a late follow-up to her unfinished "Corellian in hell" stories.
Shall I end it here, or continue until Han actually leaves?
Warning slash. Han/Luke, Han/Vader.
“Lord Vader, ship approaching. A freighter.” The bridge officer checked his readout again and winced, already feeling the phantom hand around his throat. “Identifies as Millennium Falcon, m’lord.”
“What?” Vader stared. The information was impossible. He had not given Solo permission to fly today and the man had been too inebriated anyway. “Tractor it in. I will meet him personally.”
A wave of relief washed over the bridge as the sith lord left for the docking bay. This time his anger would not be directed at them.
Vader waited, his mask and armor concealing his impatience, as the air cycled back into the bay. If that drunken fool had endangered himself…… But the battered ship made a perfect landing. Vader strode out, two stormtropers in his wake.
Solo came down the ramp, hands well away from his gun. Vader glared. He was not to be armed and the crew knew it. He was steady on his feet, showing no signs of the morning’s intoxication. He covered his fear well.
“We shall discuss this later,” Vader hissed. “Take him away.”
Vader stalked out of the docking bay, and the troopers seized Han and hauled him through the ship. They marched him up to a door. One cycled it open and the other shoved him through. He heard the lock tumblers snap shut.
A bitter laugh from the half-lit room made him turn around. “I knew I was drunk enough to see double, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen myself!” Another laugh, and the voice ordered “Lights to three-quarters.”
Han’s counterpart was a wreck of a handsome man: raddled, graying, with the puffiness of a terminal alcoholic blunting his sharp features. Broken veins webbed over his nose and cheeks. His clothes, fine satinate, were fresh and he was clean. The rich jewelry seemed to weigh him down more than decorate him. He poked an unsteady finger at Han and was surprised to find he was real.
“So, did Himself finally clone me or are you that actor they say looks like me? You know, Whazizname from the romance holos, the one whose stock character is the Corellian Pirate who always gets the Fair Damsel.”
“I’m you from another universe.”
The drunken Solo laughed as if this was the best joke he’d ever heard. “Good one. What you are, fella, is a very real spicebrandy hangover. You’ll vanish when I get drunk enough.” He turned to the table and reached for a gourd of spicebrandy.
“You’ve had plenty,” Han said, taking it out of his hand and taking a small drink himself. It was good: hot and almost-sweet as it slid down so smoothly he almost didn’t notice. It wasn’t the stuff he could normally afford. “I need some answers. Whose quarters are these? You’re no Imperial officer, not on Vader’s ship.” He shoved his drunken counterpart into a chair and fingered a heavy collar-like necklace. “Who owns you?”
“The great Darth Vader, hero of the galaxy, the last line of defense against the Jedi Scourge,” Solo slurred, his voice thick with biting mockery. “Why d’ya think I’m drunk two hours before lunch? He thinks you’re me, y’know. ‘Sgood. He’s getting bored with me. He tried to turn me into a kwaat. It didn’t work out too well.”
Han wasn’t familiar with the word, but had already gleaned some idea of its meaning, just by looking at his counterpart. In any universe he would be recognizable as a kept man. He handed the brandy gourd back. Poor bastard needed all the booze he could get.
The door slid open. “Father?” Luke’s voice. Han turned to see him framed in the door, black-clad and cloaked, looking like a miniature Vader. “Oh.” His lip curled when he saw Han. “You.” The contempt dripped from his voice like acid onto Han’s skin. Then Luke stared. “Two of you?”
“Come on in, kid and talk to me. He’s too drunk to.” Han jerked his head at his counterpart.
“He’s always drunk.” The contempt and loathing in Luke’s voice chilled Han.
“When did this happen?”
“You first. Who are you? Why are you in my father’s rooms, and a replica of his concubine?”
“Siddown, this will take a while.” Han explained his history, and the journey he was making. “The troopers tossed me in here, and all he’s done is drink. He thinks I’m a hallucination.”
Luke listened, but heard no falsehood in the wild story. Still, he didn’t know how different this man could be from his own Solo. “After Yavin, Han fell into my father’s hands. When he escaped, he wouldn’t tell us what had happened. On Hoth, the Imperials blockaded us. Vader himself swept through the ice caverns, to place the Imperial Orb in the hands of the Princess. The galaxy was the New Republic. In return, he wanted Han back. Leia balked, but peace was a done deal, and the generals forced her to accept the condition. Once at peace, Father revealed our kinship, and began training me.”
The door slid open. *Cub, your father requests you.* The growl brooked no argument. *You have led me a merry hunt, little one. Now go.* Chewbacca shook his head as he came into the room. The scent was all wrong, and he looked from one man to the other. The cub was plain enough, but there were indeed two of his Hans, one healthy, the other pickled in the best brandy Vader’s wealth could buy.
Luke left, cloak billowing. Chewbacca came warily toward the healthy Han. *You are Hahnko, but not mine.*
Han told his story again.
*Ah, little one. You have come on a fool’s errand to this place. Had you come a few years ago, our Luke would have welcomed you with open arms. He resents his father muchly for stealing his lover as the price of peace.*
“So he was involved?”
*There is no contempt like that of a lover whose beloved has fallen from grace, you know that.*
“I never stopped loving him.” The voice from the dark corner surprised them both. “Not as far drunk as you thought, eh, Solo?”
*Hahnko, have you eaten today?*
“Food makes me sick. I don’t need a furry nursemaid.” He returned his attention to Han. “I never stopped loving Luke. Doesn’t matter what Vader does to my body, he can’t have that. It’s the last act of the Rebellion.”
”Hangin’ out with idealists gets to the best of us, Solo. Does Luke know?”
“No. Old fur face here has kept it quiet. You just better too.”
“Why?”
“Because, Luke can’t have me. I don’t need him eating his heart out over it, or worse, challenging Vader over my worthless hide. The old man is sick. It takes a helluva a lot of machinery to keep old Ironpants going. He doesn’t have more than a couple years, even with the best doctors in the galaxy. If I can give him some entertainment, it keeps him off Leia’s case while she’s trying to run everything, and off Luke’s while he grows more powerful.” Solo’s eyes were clearer than Han had thought, and his walk was steady as he came into the lighted area.
“I don’t drink as much as he thinks I do, or as much as I did. I haven’t needed to since he stopped screwing me. That’s how I know he’s dying. I’ll be free soon enough. And when I am, I’ll be sober, too.”
”You grew a noble streak somewhere, Solo.”
“And you grew a romantic one. And we’re both a pair of fools. This ain’t your Luke. He’s mine. And I’ll have him back soon enough.”
Han nodded. “Fair enough. Now to convince Vader I’m not you.”
Shall I end it here, or continue until Han actually leaves?
Warning slash. Han/Luke, Han/Vader.
“Lord Vader, ship approaching. A freighter.” The bridge officer checked his readout again and winced, already feeling the phantom hand around his throat. “Identifies as Millennium Falcon, m’lord.”
“What?” Vader stared. The information was impossible. He had not given Solo permission to fly today and the man had been too inebriated anyway. “Tractor it in. I will meet him personally.”
A wave of relief washed over the bridge as the sith lord left for the docking bay. This time his anger would not be directed at them.
Vader waited, his mask and armor concealing his impatience, as the air cycled back into the bay. If that drunken fool had endangered himself…… But the battered ship made a perfect landing. Vader strode out, two stormtropers in his wake.
Solo came down the ramp, hands well away from his gun. Vader glared. He was not to be armed and the crew knew it. He was steady on his feet, showing no signs of the morning’s intoxication. He covered his fear well.
“We shall discuss this later,” Vader hissed. “Take him away.”
Vader stalked out of the docking bay, and the troopers seized Han and hauled him through the ship. They marched him up to a door. One cycled it open and the other shoved him through. He heard the lock tumblers snap shut.
A bitter laugh from the half-lit room made him turn around. “I knew I was drunk enough to see double, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen myself!” Another laugh, and the voice ordered “Lights to three-quarters.”
Han’s counterpart was a wreck of a handsome man: raddled, graying, with the puffiness of a terminal alcoholic blunting his sharp features. Broken veins webbed over his nose and cheeks. His clothes, fine satinate, were fresh and he was clean. The rich jewelry seemed to weigh him down more than decorate him. He poked an unsteady finger at Han and was surprised to find he was real.
“So, did Himself finally clone me or are you that actor they say looks like me? You know, Whazizname from the romance holos, the one whose stock character is the Corellian Pirate who always gets the Fair Damsel.”
“I’m you from another universe.”
The drunken Solo laughed as if this was the best joke he’d ever heard. “Good one. What you are, fella, is a very real spicebrandy hangover. You’ll vanish when I get drunk enough.” He turned to the table and reached for a gourd of spicebrandy.
“You’ve had plenty,” Han said, taking it out of his hand and taking a small drink himself. It was good: hot and almost-sweet as it slid down so smoothly he almost didn’t notice. It wasn’t the stuff he could normally afford. “I need some answers. Whose quarters are these? You’re no Imperial officer, not on Vader’s ship.” He shoved his drunken counterpart into a chair and fingered a heavy collar-like necklace. “Who owns you?”
“The great Darth Vader, hero of the galaxy, the last line of defense against the Jedi Scourge,” Solo slurred, his voice thick with biting mockery. “Why d’ya think I’m drunk two hours before lunch? He thinks you’re me, y’know. ‘Sgood. He’s getting bored with me. He tried to turn me into a kwaat. It didn’t work out too well.”
Han wasn’t familiar with the word, but had already gleaned some idea of its meaning, just by looking at his counterpart. In any universe he would be recognizable as a kept man. He handed the brandy gourd back. Poor bastard needed all the booze he could get.
The door slid open. “Father?” Luke’s voice. Han turned to see him framed in the door, black-clad and cloaked, looking like a miniature Vader. “Oh.” His lip curled when he saw Han. “You.” The contempt dripped from his voice like acid onto Han’s skin. Then Luke stared. “Two of you?”
“Come on in, kid and talk to me. He’s too drunk to.” Han jerked his head at his counterpart.
“He’s always drunk.” The contempt and loathing in Luke’s voice chilled Han.
“When did this happen?”
“You first. Who are you? Why are you in my father’s rooms, and a replica of his concubine?”
“Siddown, this will take a while.” Han explained his history, and the journey he was making. “The troopers tossed me in here, and all he’s done is drink. He thinks I’m a hallucination.”
Luke listened, but heard no falsehood in the wild story. Still, he didn’t know how different this man could be from his own Solo. “After Yavin, Han fell into my father’s hands. When he escaped, he wouldn’t tell us what had happened. On Hoth, the Imperials blockaded us. Vader himself swept through the ice caverns, to place the Imperial Orb in the hands of the Princess. The galaxy was the New Republic. In return, he wanted Han back. Leia balked, but peace was a done deal, and the generals forced her to accept the condition. Once at peace, Father revealed our kinship, and began training me.”
The door slid open. *Cub, your father requests you.* The growl brooked no argument. *You have led me a merry hunt, little one. Now go.* Chewbacca shook his head as he came into the room. The scent was all wrong, and he looked from one man to the other. The cub was plain enough, but there were indeed two of his Hans, one healthy, the other pickled in the best brandy Vader’s wealth could buy.
Luke left, cloak billowing. Chewbacca came warily toward the healthy Han. *You are Hahnko, but not mine.*
Han told his story again.
*Ah, little one. You have come on a fool’s errand to this place. Had you come a few years ago, our Luke would have welcomed you with open arms. He resents his father muchly for stealing his lover as the price of peace.*
“So he was involved?”
*There is no contempt like that of a lover whose beloved has fallen from grace, you know that.*
“I never stopped loving him.” The voice from the dark corner surprised them both. “Not as far drunk as you thought, eh, Solo?”
*Hahnko, have you eaten today?*
“Food makes me sick. I don’t need a furry nursemaid.” He returned his attention to Han. “I never stopped loving Luke. Doesn’t matter what Vader does to my body, he can’t have that. It’s the last act of the Rebellion.”
”Hangin’ out with idealists gets to the best of us, Solo. Does Luke know?”
“No. Old fur face here has kept it quiet. You just better too.”
“Why?”
“Because, Luke can’t have me. I don’t need him eating his heart out over it, or worse, challenging Vader over my worthless hide. The old man is sick. It takes a helluva a lot of machinery to keep old Ironpants going. He doesn’t have more than a couple years, even with the best doctors in the galaxy. If I can give him some entertainment, it keeps him off Leia’s case while she’s trying to run everything, and off Luke’s while he grows more powerful.” Solo’s eyes were clearer than Han had thought, and his walk was steady as he came into the lighted area.
“I don’t drink as much as he thinks I do, or as much as I did. I haven’t needed to since he stopped screwing me. That’s how I know he’s dying. I’ll be free soon enough. And when I am, I’ll be sober, too.”
”You grew a noble streak somewhere, Solo.”
“And you grew a romantic one. And we’re both a pair of fools. This ain’t your Luke. He’s mine. And I’ll have him back soon enough.”
Han nodded. “Fair enough. Now to convince Vader I’m not you.”
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no subject
Date: 2005-02-09 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 01:59 am (UTC)Maybe I should go ahead and have the local Vader die. but that leaves too much yenta-like patching up. Let Chewie handle that. he's better at it.
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Date: 2005-02-10 05:53 am (UTC)You may want to think about what each of these AU worlds add to the overall story. After all, you don't want them to become one repetitve snapshot after the other and finding an overarching motif or theme could help you decide what, if anything, each section needs. This is the story that previously had a dark Luke/Leia with some Vader on the side, right? And then a Han/Chewie thing going, if I remember correctly. Now we have a Han/Luke broken by Han/Vader. It's like Han's getting closer, pairingwise at least, and each one brings with it more hope. With the dark twins, it was hopeless. Han/Chewie wasn't much better. Here, there's hope that Vader will die and Luke become quite powerful.
But here, in this section, we haven't seen much of Luke's part in it (I'm assuming I haven't missed previous parts of this section). We get a little of his reactions and feelings, but not much. We also don't get Han's feelings about seeing Luke like this, so close but so far. Luke comes off a little like a plot dispenser, but that can be done much more emotionally so that we get the gutpunch of what you made here, one pair of lovers separated by darkness and one pair separated by an entire time continuum.
So...um. More character interaction. Leave with a sense of hope but it doesn't have to be tangible ie. Vader just dropped dead. It can be anticipatory, instead. Or at least that's how I took it. Please forgive the length of this. ^_^ KC