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Luke inched closer. His blade was still out, still humming. He wanted Kueller to fight him, not Leia. Leia wasn’t ready yet. “Actually, Kueller, there are dozens of Jedi now.”

“But not Jedi Masters, Skywalker.”

“There are more than you imagine,” Luke said, thinking of Callista. She would provide quite a battle against Kueller, even without the Force.

Kueller turned to Luke, and Leia fired again. Without even looking at her, Kueller blocked the blaster shots. The shots flew harmlessly to the sides. Then her blaster rose in the air, and exploded a few feet above her head.

“Use another of those, President, and it will explode in your hand.”

“You like explosions, don’t you, Kueller?” she said. Luke suppressed a smile. She was trying to distract him so Luke could attack. But it wasn’t that easy. Kueller had pushed Luke far enough that Luke’s feelings were confused. He wasn’t certain if he was going after Kueller out of anger or hatred, instead of in defense. That would only make Kueller stronger.

He seemed to be stronger anyway, giving credence to Luke’s theory.

“Small explosions, President,” Kueller said, his blade still locked with Luke’s. “Large ones destroy wealth.”

Leia stepped out of the bay. She was unarmed. “Even if you kill us, Kueller, you won’t get the rest of us. The explosives you put in the droids won’t work. We shut the droids off.”

“Did you, now?” Kueller’s tone was mocking. Luke could feel the physical pressure Kueller was putting on the blade. They were locked in a battle of wills, their strength holding the blades together in a haze of light. “You managed to tell all the developed planets about the droids, President? Because if you didn’t, then I will still get enough strength from one single order to defeat you all.”

A chill ran through Luke. All those lives. All those billions of lives. They meant nothing more to Kueller than a breath of air, a surge of adrenaline, a swallow of food. Anger flowed through Luke, deep and fine and rich. He had created this monster. Luke, through his arrogance, had given Kueller all the tools he needed to destroy the entire galaxy. If Luke hadn’t taught all his students about the dark side, if he hadn’t warned them repeatedly and in detail about the quick and easy path, then Kueller would still be Dolph, not this hateful being who wore a death mask proudly and dealt in lives as a smuggler dealt in stolen goods.

Kueller turned toward Luke and grinned. His lightsaber broke free from the enmeshment and whooshed near Luke. Luke jumped aside, pain shivering through his back, and down his arms.

Kueller had suddenly gotten stronger.

“Kueller!” Leia shouted. She held another blaster. He turned his attention to her, and Luke thrust his blade toward Kueller’s side, drawing blood before Kueller swirled away.

Easy blood. The lightsaber moved with a sureness Luke had never felt before.

Leia’s blaster was turning red. She tossed it aside before it exploded, and rolled in the opposite direction.

Kueller had turned back to Luke, thrusting, parrying, thrusting, their sabers locked in a battle as loud and spark-filled as Luke’s battle with Vader. Kueller’s breath hissed through the mask, but it wasn’t Vader’s stentorian breathing that it imitated.

It was the Emperor’s greedy gasping.

Luke staggered under Kueller’s next blow, and barely managed to roll aside. His ankle kept buckling under him, but he forced himself to put weight on it. They had moved into the alleyway Luke had seen in that strange moment of vision. Stones littered the ground all around them, and the light only came through a small opening on either end. Luke could no longer see Leia.

Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Let the hate flow through you.

Kueller struck at him, his blow shattering a nearby rock. He was stronger. Much stronger. And his strength seemed to be increasing. Luke’s arms were growing tired battling the power of Kueller’s blade.

Then Kueller laughed, a gurgling, familiar laugh. The Emperor’s laugh, the unamused choking of a slave to the dark side.

Fueled by hatred, anger, and