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Another Route - Part 4


You trust him?” Admiral Ackbar said in disbelief. “Mon”—

He didn’t have time to finish as a pilot from Red Squadron ran into the room, breathing heavily and pale-faced. “Mon Mothma!” he gasped. “AT-ATs on the horizon!”

Mothma paled. “Carry out an evacuation immediately,” she snapped to members of the High Command. “Skywalker, I’ll deal with you when we reach Mustafar,” she snapped. “Solo, you too.”

Without a word, the two friends left the audience chamber and Han grabbed Luke’s shoulder. “You’re not going to Mustafar, are you?” he asked shrewdly.

Luke stared at him for a second before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “I’m going to Dagobah. I have to become a Jedi.”

Han’s gaze clouded over. “Kid…”

“What?”

“Yodi, or whatever his name is, he’s dead,” said Han slowly. “I dunno who sent you there, but…”

“He’s not, Han,” said Luke heavily. “He’s been in hiding. Obi-Wan told me.”

Han raised his eyebrows and stared at his friend for a few moments. “Luke…?”

“A ghost,” Luke said shortly. “It happens when a Jedi dies, I guess.”

“Luke, you were… delirious,” said Han gently. “You probably just invented it in your mind. I think you should come with me on the Falcon. Let someone else pilot your X-Wing.”

“No,” said the Jedi-in-training stubbornly. “I didn’t invent it. I’ve got to go to Dagobah, Han. It’s the only way I can become a Jedi and save my father.”

“What if he don’t wanna be saved?” Han questioned, crossing his arms. “You don’t know that he thinks he needs savin.’”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to, whether he thinks he needs to be or not,” he said firmly. He gaze softened and he touched a hand to Han’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me,” he said lightly. “I’ve got to do this.”

Han sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell the High Command when we get to Mustafar.”

Luke grinned. “Thanks.”

“Captain Solo told me you’re not going with the rest of us.”

Luke looked up from his room as he hastily packed his few belongings. Whatever else he had was on the Falcon. “I’m not, Terzé,” he acknowledged the armored man in the doorway. “Jedi business.”

“Jedi, or Sith?” Terzé asked lightly.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Jedi.”

“Do you know the difference?”

Luke felt a prickle of discomfort from the man’s questioning. Who was he, and how did even he know the difference between the two? “Yes,” he said shortly.

Terzé crossed his arms. “You will be the last Jedi,” he said slowly. “Good luck.”

Luke didn’t have time to ask what he meant as the man sidestepped past the jamb and returned to the corridor, presumably to help Lady Amidala with her things. Furrowing his brow, he slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room, heading for his X-Wing.

Several pilots were already in the air and shouting instructions. Half of the full complement was to escort the shuttles through hyperspace, and the other half was supposed to try and combat the massive AT-ATs, or at least, try to stop them from reaching the base before it was completely evacuated. Luke jumped in his starship and powered up, snapping on his helmet as he did so. “Rogue 2, in position,” he called over the comm.

“Rogue 2, you’re to come with me,” Wedge Antilles’ voice instructed. “Let’s go!”

Soon, Luke and five others X-Wings had left the base, not needing any directions as to the location of the AT-ATs. Luke cast the Force over the Millennium Falcon, making sure that Han and Chewie were aboard and safe, and grinned when he heard Han’s startled swear. Damn, the kid’s dad sure comes with a bang.

Returning his attention to the lumbering, four-legged machines, Luke made sure his father wasn’t aboard any of them and then set to the task.

With Wedge acting as his wingman, Luke swooped in and took out the first AT-AT’s shield generator on the underside. Immediately, two more X-Wings attacked the engines and the AT-AT partially exploded. Luke grimly shut out the death cries of those aboard and brought his X-Wing up, unused to atmospheric flying.

“Nice shot, Rogue 2,” said one of the pilots appreciatively. “Let’s go to the next one before they take out the power generators.”

“Does anyone know how they got here so quick?” another pilot questioned. “We were careful to hide our tracks.”

Luke brushed back a stab of guilt and focused on evading the shots of the next AT-AT. He banked hard left as one of the shots managed to hit his shields and pulled up, allowing one of the other pilots—Terzé, he realized, from his Force-signature—to make an accurate shot at the shield-generator.

Terzé pulled up again to slide back into position to Luke’s left, and he recognized the maneuver from standard TIE formulations. More proof of their earlier training. Thinking back on his training as a TIE fighter pilot, Luke was hit with an idea. “Rogue 3,” he said, calling Terzé’s number. “Let’s give ‘em a little of their own medicine. Anyone know Split V-Formation?” he questioned, naming the maneuver he had in mind.

He heard a soft laugh over the comm that came from Terzé. “Good thinking, Rogue 2. Rogue 6, 7, 4, 9, pull back.” Terzé proceeded to explain the formation to the rest of the group and then called for himself and Luke to lead the split teams.

They eased the X-Wings into position and powered their thrusters toward the remaining two AT-ATs, veering off into two separate V-formations with three pilots each. Luke’s group rose into the air and spread out, diving low to hit the AT-AT. Terzé’s group banked right and tore around, heading for the next one.

“Rogue Squadron, get out of there!” General Rieekan’s voice said. “The last shuttle has jumped into hyperspace!”

“Yes, General,” said Luke, pulling up, wincing as his left wingman’s ship blew up as the last few shots of the AT-AT hit him. “Let’s go, Rogue Squadron.”

They slipped back into a unified V and rose swiftly. Setting his plan into action, Luke called over the comm, “Go ahead, Rogue Squadron. I’m having trouble getting my hyperdrive online,” he lied.

“Don’t wait too long,” one of the pilots advised. “I’ve just heard that it’s the Executor up there. If you get caught, you’ll be in some deep trouble.”

“Thanks for the warning,” said Luke as the other X-Wings climbed into space and disappeared. “Artoo?” he questioned, and read the quick reply from his astromech. “Set course of Dagobah,” he instructed, feeling a little nervous. “That’s where we’ve got to go.”

“What do you mean, he’s not coming with us?” Leia asked in complete disbelief.

Han turned away uncomfortably. “He says he’s got to go become a Jedi,” he told her.

“And you let him?” Leia said incredulously. “Han, Luke’s one of our best pilots, and he was the one to send us to Mustafar! What if you just let him go back his father? What if you just helped him betray the Alliance?”

Han’s eyes narrowed. “You know just as good as I do that Luke’s no traitor, Your Worshipfulness, he said angrily. “He’s tryin’ to help the Alliance, not trap it!”

“Then why wouldn’t he come with us?” Leia retorted. “It looks just a bit suspicious, don’t you think?”

Han crossed his arms. “I told you, he went to take lessons from Yoda,” he said icily. “He says the Jedi is still alive.”

“Impossible,” Leia responded. “Darth Vader took care of that.” A flash of disgust and anger passed through her eyes that Han ignored.

“Well, I’ll take Luke’s word over yours,” Han said angrily. “Seeing as he’s the Jedi and you’re not.”

“You’re Force-blind,” Leia replied furiously. “He probably pulled a mind-trick on you!”

Han gritted his teeth. “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know the kid a little better than you, Your Highnessless,” he spat. “And if you think he’s gonna go and betray us, then you obviously don’t know him as good as you claim.” With that, he spun around and returned to the cockpit, slamming in a few codes on the door Leia didn’t need to test to know that she was locked out. She sank into a chair, feeling guilty for her actions. Han was right that he knew Luke well, but still… The ‘what-ifs’ echoed in her mind, making her nervous. With a sigh, she curled up into a ball.

The base had been evacuated. Vader stepped through the remains of the building in disgust. His son wasn’t here, he had recovered, but he had realized his actions soon enough to warn the Rebels. He had then disappeared into hyperspace. Vader clenched his fists. They had soundly defeated the Rebels here, and his master would be pleased, but something still bothered him. Palpatine’s attitude of late had been almost patronizing, as though he was continually testing his apprentice. Vader harshly shoved the idea that his master knew what he had done to save his son to the back of his mind. If that were the case, then he would have been punished long ago.

The question was now, where had the Rebels gone? They didn’t have the time to set up another base. This one was supposed to have been their sanctuary, and only Luke’s cry for help had notified Vader of its location. They had left several ships and medical equipment behind, no doubt in a rush to leave, which meant that they were probably lacking in resources.

Where would they go? Deciding to try and figure out this puzzle aboard his ship in meditation, Vader turned to the officer at his side, who was shaking with cold. “Find any survivors,” he ordered. “Bring them to detention cells after insuring survival.”

“Yes, my lord,” said the man, retaining enough dignity not to chatter. With that, Vader whipped around and strode back to his shuttle.

“Are we there, Artoo?” Luke asked after stirring himself from the fitful sleep. Even if able to complete a long-distance hyperspace trip, his X-Wing was not the most comfortable mode of transportation. He stretched out his arms in the limited space and waited for the droid to reply. “Good,” he said when the droid told him that they would reach Dagobah shortly. “Take us out of hyperspace when you’re ready, Artoo.”

Luke settled back to calm his nervousness. What would happen? What would the Jedi Master teach him? What would he look like? A darker thought entered his mind: What if Yoda refused to train him because of his father? Knowing that his presence would alert any respectable Force-sensitive once he reached the planet, Luke added another layer to his shields and carefully reigned in his emotions and repressed his fear and apprehension. Those, he was sure, were not ones to which a Jedi should be subject.

Soon after, he felt the ship shudder as it exited hyperspace as he took the controls, setting himself to land on the planet. Artoo had informed him that the world was completely uninhabited, and once again, Luke wondered why the Jedi Master had chosen such a remote place to live. He eased the starship into the atmosphere of the planet and began to orbit, feeling for a Force-sensitive presence to land near.

He felt a burst of light from close by and immediately brought the X-Wing around, sure that it had been a manifestation of the Force. He piloted the ship deeper into the atmosphere and noted with dismay that it was night on this side of the planet. He reached out with the Force to guide him as he attempted to land through the heavy fog and expertly maneuvered the controls into the small clearing that the Force told him existed. Finally, he felt the X-Wing set down and he began the power-down sequence and shut off the life-support system on his flight suit. Once again quelling his nervousness, he opened the cockpit and jumped out, using the Force to soften his landing. On the other side, Artoo joined him on the ground and promptly broadcasted something to the ship, which responded by turning on several lights.

“Thanks, Artoo,” Luke said quietly, turning to view his surroundings. He seemed to have landed on the only visible solid ground—he was completely encircled by marshlands and large trees with hanging vines. Gingerly, he removed his flight suit and called his lightsaber to his hand from the cockpit, hooking it onto his belt. He stretched out with the Force, and was amazed at the amount of energy that surrounded the place. It was as if the very land pulsed with it. He noticed a rock next to the ship and sat down, calling a survival pack from his ship next, when he tensed.

Someone was near.

He was careful not to show his awareness of his observer, and resumed unpacking the survival pack. Was it Yoda?

He felt the presence draw nearer, and to his dismay, he was unable to tell the intruder’s intentions. Waiting until whoever it was had drawn close, he suddenly whipped around, drawing his lightsaber and holding it at an angle, when it was jerked from his hand and sent flying to the ground.

Now sure that he was being attacked, Luke called the weapon back to his hand and held it ready, back slowly to the side. His assailant was near, he could tell—

“Attack, you would, before asking questions,” said a voice suddenly in the darkness.

Luke turned slowly to see a green-skinned, pointed-ear creature as high as his knee sitting on the rock he had used to catalog the contents of his survival pack. Through his surprise, Luke managed to discover that the creature was extremely Force-strong, and he realized with a start that this was Yoda.

He dropped to a knee. “My apologies, Master Jedi,” he said quickly. “I thought you were attacking me.”

Yoda observed him for a second. “Come to ask me to train you, you have,” he said finally.

Luke’s heart leapt in his mouth. “Yes, Master Yoda,” he acknowledged.

“Why?”

He was thrown off by the question. “I wish… to become a Jedi, Master,” he said furrowing his brow in confusion. “Like my father.”

“A Jedi your father is no longer,” said Yoda, and Luke detected a note of sadness. “A Sith he has become. An enemy of the Jedi Order, he is. Corrupted by the Dark Side.”

“He can come back,” said Luke forcefully. “He will. I know it.”

“Much Darkness there is in you, young Skywalker,” said Yoda shrewdly. “Much anger. Much fear.”

Luke swallowed his nervousness. “I have rejected it, Master Jedi.”

“Calls to you, it does. No return there can be from the Dark Side,” said Yoda firmly. “Killed, you have.”

Guilt burst in Luke’s heart. “I have returned,” he said firmly. “I have no desire to join the Dark Side.”

“Train you, I will not,” Yoda said finally. “Too strong are your emotions.”

“Master Yoda,” said a new voice, and Luke turned sharply to see Obi-Wan sitting on a log.

“Obi-Wan!” he said in surprise, and his father’s former master smiled sadly at him.

“Master, he must be trained,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “He is our last chance. He is all there is left. He is the only one who can defeat the Dark Side.”

“Defeat the Dark Side?” Yoda said skeptically. “Resides in him the Dark Side does, Obi-Wan.”

“We must believe he has returned,” Obi-Wan persisted. “He will be the last of the Jedi.”

“My father is a Jedi,” Luke interjected stubbornly. “He will come back.”

Both Jedi Masters turned to him. “Your father is gone, Luke,” said Obi-Wan firmly. “You must let him go. He belongs to the Dark Side.”

“No,” Luke said, carefully keeping his anger in check. “I don’t accept that. There is good in him.”

“A great Jedi, Vader once was,” said Yoda softly. “Become the greatest of all, he could have. Turned his back on the Order, he did. Killed the Jedi, he did. Killed the younglings. Betrayed himself, he did. Because of his fear. The same fear, you have.”

Luke was silent for a moment. “He didn’t think you trusted him,” he said finally. “He thought his only option was to turn. I know better. I won’t fail, and he will return, whatever you say.” Both Jedi said nothing for a while. “I am a servant of the light,” said Luke at last. “I won’t turn. But I must be trained, Master Yoda.”

“He is right, mostly,” Obi-Wan seconded. “And he is all we have left.”

Yoda thought for a while. “Train him I will,” he said finally. “Learn to control his emotions, he must.”

Luke beamed. “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

Yoda turned to him. “Come with me, Padawan,” he said finally. “A test.”

“Stay behind for now, Artoo,” Luke told the droid, who replied in a series of angry beeps and whistles. Yoda waited patiently, and Luke soon turned his attention back to the diminutive Jedi Master. “I’m ready, Master Yoda,” he said respectfully.

The small Jedi nodded once and turned, hobbling down from the stone and walking past the X-Wing, clutching a small walking stick in hand. Luke followed him into the darkness, using the Force to tell him where to step. He suddenly saw lights blinking up ahead and upon further inspection, realized that he saw a tiny hut in the distance. He started to head towards it, but a quick rap on the knees with Yoda’s walking stick stopped him. “Not there,” the Jedi said firmly. He turned towards the opposite way. “In there you must go,” he told Luke.

Luke turned where the Jedi Master pointed, and then felt it—the deep, dark feeling of immeasurable power, of cold and anger—

He swallowed. “The Dark Side.”

“Strong with the Dark Side of the Force, that cave is,” said the Jedi Master. “Defeat it you must, if you will be trained.”

Luke stayed put for a moment, and then walked towards it purposefully, a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

“Need a weapon, you do not,” said Yoda.

Luke turned towards him. “I think I’ll keep it,” he said uneasily, and turned back, stepping inside the dark, peculiar cave a moment later. The Darkness threatened to overcome him, but Luke stubbornly pushed it away, calling instead on the feeling he had experienced when Yoda had accepted him as a student.

He froze, suddenly, as he heard footsteps in the cave. He looked up, using the Force to help his vision, and saw with some surprise his father and the Emperor walk towards him. “Kill him, Lord Vader,” the Emperor croaked.

Luke knew it was an illusion, and made no move to do anything. He knew his father wouldn’t hurt him, even at the command of the Emperor. He had proven that already.

He jumped back in shock when his father ignited his lightsaber, and said, “As you wish, my master.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Father, what are you doing?” he asked nervously.

The Dark Lord made no response, and Luke stumbled backwards. “Father, stop it! You promised!”

“My promises are nothing against the command of the Emperor,” said Vader darkly.

This is not my father , Luke thought to himself. The Dark Side was creating an illusion to scare him and tempt him to join with it. He narrowed his eyes as his father’s simulacrum stalked towards him.

His heart sunk. Everything was the same—the way he walked, the breathing, the way he held his lightsaber, even—Luke was forced to block when the faux Vader brought down his saber in a powerful cut. “Stop it!” he shouted as he parried another swing. But he made no reply, and Luke realized with a jolt that who stood in front of him was purely Darth Vader—as his father had been before his arrival, which meant that he would have no qualms about destroying him. His father—his real father—was Anakin Skywalker, and had slowly begun to reemerge the day that he had learned he had a son.

He grimly blocked another thrust and eased to the side. He wouldn’t be able to win, but he had to find a way to escape. “Excellent, my friend,” the Emperor said. “Destroy him!”

Obediently, Vader raised his saber for the killing blow, and Luke felt a wave of disgust roll through him. The Emperor used Vader as a puppet! He would never allow himself to become that! He blocked the swing and scrambled out of the way. He wouldn’t attack. That wasn’t the Jedi way. And he would be a Jedi. He fought back a cry of pain as Vader found a way past his defenses and sliced his right arm open at the top, laying it clean to the bone, but thankfully not severing it. Luke decided that that was enough, and extinguished his saber. He turned and sprinted out of the cave, leaving Vader and his master behind.

Once outside, he realized that it was light out. Grimacing, he looked at his shoulder and saw that the injury was still there. Not as much as an illusion as he thought, then. Hissing in pain, he ripped his sleeve at the shoulder seam and pulled it down, wondering if he had any Bacta in the X-Wing.

“Fight your father, you did not,” Yoda said, and Luke looked up to see him peering at him thoughtfully. “Interesting, this is.”

“That wasn’t my father,” said Luke tightly as he fought to control the pain.

“That is what Anakin has become,” said Yoda firmly. “Exist, Anakin Skywalker does not.”

“You’re wrong,” said Luke, equally sure, and surprised at his audacity. Yoda didn’t argue further.

“Your injury, we must tend,” he said. “Into my house you must come.”

Luke followed Yoda into the dimly lit hut and sat on the floor as the Jedi went to the kitchen and returned with a strange salve and a bandage. “Bacta?” he asked hopefully.

Yoda shook his head and took Luke’s arm. “Teach you to heal, I must,” he said finally. “Into meditation, you must go,” he instructed, and Luke obediently closed his eyes. “Feel the injury, the damaged muscle. Use the Force to stitch it in place, you must. Use the energy to repair it, you can.”

Luke let himself sink into the energy around him and focused on the pain in shoulder. He grabbed for the energy and pulled it to him, mentally willing it to do as Yoda instructed. Finally, he opened his eyes again. “Good,” said Yoda. He looked down at his shoulder and saw that it was still a cut, but much shallower and very red. He smiled.

Yoda applied some of the salve and wrapped the injury with a length of cloth. “Sleep,” said Yoda at last. “Continue training tomorrow, we will.”

“That’s our new base?” Han asked Chewie doubtfully as they exited hyperspace and saw the molten planet below them. He swallowed nervously. “Doesn’t look too friendly.”

Chewie roared his agreement and turned his head to the cockpit door when a soft knock echoed into the cockpit. He looked at Han questioningly as the smuggler’s face went taut. He pressed two buttons harshly and ignored Leia’s entrance. “I’m sorry for the way I acted,” she said stiffly. “I overreacted. I know that Luke would never betray us.” Han stubbornly persisted to ignore her as he piloted towards the coordinates Mon Mothma had given him. “Han…” she said, sounding far more vulnerable than ever before. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”

He froze. Never, ever, had she admitted that she was frightened. He turned slowly and saw that, indeed, her face was pale and she looked as though she hadn’t slept. His heart softened. “It’s okay,” he said roughly.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “That’s Mustafar?” Her voice had changed, and she was back to being Princess Leia. Han smiled slightly to himself.

“Yep,” he told her. “Not exactly my top choice.”

“Not mine either,” Leia agreed. “I asked Luke about it, but he wouldn’t tell me anything, only that we would be safe here. What do you know?”

Han tensed. “This is where…” he debated. Should he tell her? “His dad got injured,” he said finally, deciding to be vague.

“Injured?” Leia asked skeptically. “The respirator?”

“Yep,” said Han again. If that’s all she thought was wrong with him, he wasn’t going to stop her.

“I see. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want to come here,” Leia said thoughtfully. “Luke’s right. We will be safe.”

They descended on a landing pad and Chewie voiced his concerns. Far below them, there was a lava flow. The landing pads jutted out from a rock mountain and connected to several large buildings also perched on the volcanic rock. “I’m with ya, pal,” said Han. “I’ve got trouble believin’ this is safe to breathe,” he said doubtfully.

“I did some research on it,” said Leia instantly. “The air far above the lava is safe, but once you get close to the surface, the toxins are extremely dangerous. When combined, they combust.” She shivered. “If that’s what Vader inhaled, then it had to be pretty painful. His lungs would have been burned from the inside.”

Han winced and thought to himself, burned from the outside, too, Princess. “Let’s go,” he said aloud, standing. “We should go help.”

Amidala stepped onto the landing pad gingerly. Why in the name of the Force had they chosen Mustafar? Why? She felt Terzé’s comforting hand on her own, guiding her, and she was grateful for his help. This was where she had last seen Ani. He had been so angry, so confused… Amidala knew that it was only because he was worried for her, but the memories of that awful night still haunted her. The look of utter betrayal in his eyes had stabbed her heart.

“All you all right, my lady?” Terzé asked quietly.

Amidala was glad for her veil as it hid her tears. “Fine, Terzé, thank you,” she said softly as the memory of his last words to her rang in her mind. She bit her lip. How she longed for him! How she wished that he was at her side! She took a deep breath. “Let’s go inside,” she said to her handmaiden’s son, and he nodded, obviously concerned for her. She hadn’t told him much about Mustafar, but he knew that this was the place that had haunted her dreams for years.

Once inside the dark building, Terzé immediately rushed her down to one of the other landing pads, and Amidala saw with some relief her daughter heading towards her. “Mother,” Leia said with a smile. “Walk with me?”

“Of course,” said Amidala weakly.

Leia sensed somehow her distress—like her father used to, Amidala noted with despair—and took her arm. “What’s wrong, Mother?” she asked gently.

“Just tired,” Amidala lied.

Leia was about to ask the real reason, her mother noted, but she stopped herself. “Get some rest, tonight,” she said finally.

“I will, darling,” Amidala agreed, knowing that no amount of rest could ever soothe the hurts—old and new—that plagued her.

Vader stood at the bridge of the Executor , hands behind his back. What was the next move? Palpatine had told him of his plans to build another Death Star, and Vader was sure that it would provoke another attack by the Rebels.

He still did not know where they were.

They had all used relatively uncharted and unused hyperspace routes, and those he had managed to track had made several stops and direction-changes to throw him off. He hated to admit that it had worked. Was Luke with them? He had felt his son’s sudden happiness and hope a few days past, but hadn’t tried to contact him. After Hoth, Vader doubted that his son would be too pleased with him. He hadn’t sensed anyone near him, however, which bothered him. Where was Luke, and why had he been separated from the other Rebels? Shouldn’t he be with the smuggler and the wookiee? Vader immediately regretted entrusting his son to the smuggler’s care. He had been the only option at the time, but he should have told Luke to go to a safe, Outer Rim planet and leave the smuggler then. Now, when he most needed his son to be protected, Solo left him!

“My lord?” A short, nervous captain who looked to be about twenty-five standard years inched up the bridge to Vader’s side. He turned slowly as his anger at being interrupted sparked.

“What is it?” Vader snapped. His son’s safety was far more important than any petty detail the officer had obviously been forced to deliver.

The captain looked terrified. “We received a transmission from Imperial Center, my lord,” said the man, his words coming out in a frightened rush. “The Emperor wants to speak with you.”

Vader was substantially surprised. When was the last time that Palpatine had requested him in such an informal way? “Very well, Captain,” he said finally. “Redirect the call to my private communications chamber,” he instructed, striding off of the bridge to the palpable relief of the officer, whose acquiescence he didn’t bother to wait for.

It was a walk of several minutes to the communications room, and Vader allowed himself time to think of possible topics. Hoth would of course be one, but there was no reason that Palpatine would be angry with him—or annoyed enough to send such an impersonal request to speak with him.

What would anger his master?

The answer came to him instantly. Luke. If, as hard as he had tried to hide him, the Emperor had found that Luke was still alive, and worse, that Vader had lied to him both originally and about the pilot of the Death Star, the results would be disastrous.

An ominous feeling of dread crawled up Vader’s spine. What would happen now?

Vader stepped inside the communications room with growing dread. He stepped up to the broadcast pad and waved a hand at the console, and soon the Emperor’s larger-than-life holo was before him. He said nothing.

“I am most displeased,” said the Emperor, making no move to tell his apprentice to stand. Vader waited patiently. “I have given you many chances to prove yourself, Lord Vader.”

“Yes, my master.” The accustomed response slipped out.

“You are to return to Coruscant immediately.”

“Master?” Vader allowed himself slight curiosity as his dread ate away inside.

“I have a special task for you,” Palpatine croaked. “A task for a true apprentice.”

A true apprentice? What did that mean? “Yes, my master,” said Vader automatically, and noted with detached interest as Palpatine’s nostrils flared in barely-contained contempt.

“Get out of my sight.” The command was particularly venomous.

“As you wish, my master,” Vader replied, turning off the projection quickly and standing, his respirator responding to his rising levels of stress. There was no doubt in his mind. Palpatine knew.

“Feel the Force, you must,” Yoda intoned. “Breathe, it does. Let it take your anger. No emotion there is, only peace.”

Luke slammed his hand—his right hand, thankfully—down on the rock. “I can’t do it, Master Yoda!” he said, frustrated. The little Jedi Master looked at him for a moment. “Every time I try to visualize it, I remember what happened to my father. What Obi-Wan did to him. What the Emperor did to him,” Luke said disgustedly. “Why can’t I do it?”

“Learn to do this, you must,” said Yoda gently. “Only then a Jedi will you become.”

“It’s not fair,” Luke said darkly. “I shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Fair, life is not. Fair, trials are not,” said Yoda firmly. “Open yourself to the Force. No room is there for anger in a Jedi. No room for fear. No room for frustration.”

Luke sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He had tried to do as Yoda said for the two weeks he had spent with him, but thus far his efforts had been unproductive. Yoda had taught him minimal combat techniques, saying that Vader had done a good job of it, and insisted that Luke’s mind was not ready. “How can I do this? We’ve been at it forever, Master.”

“900 years have I trained Jedi,” said Yoda after a moment. “Never has a student been taught in the Dark Side before he has come to me. Never have I had to reverse the Darkness.”

“So you don’t know?” Luke said bitterly. He sighed. “Naturally.”

Yoda looked at him solemnly. “Show me what to do, the Force will. Let it in, you must. Subject yourself to the Force, you must.”

Luke slid to the ground. “That’s what I’ve been doing,” he griped. “All the Force wants to show me is Mustafar.”

“No,” Yoda said sharply. “Holding on to anger, to hate, to fear, you have been. No connection there can be with the Light Side. Too easily the Dark Side flows in you.”

“It’s not my fault!” Luke said, frustrated. “I didn’t even know there was a Dark Side before Obi-Wan told me!”

“Lie, you do,” said Yoda. “Knew, when killed the boy you did.”

Luke shrank back as if he’d been slapped. “I never meant to kill him,” he whispered, turning away. “I was just angry.”

“Angry. A path to the Dark Side, anger is. Let it control you, you have.”

“Once,” said Luke quickly. “I never killed anyone else.”

“No?”

Luke cringed. “But that was for the greater good. I didn’t want to do it.”

“But in anger, in pain, you did it,” said Yoda quietly. “When Vader killed your friend, let your anger flow through you, you did.”

Luke slumped. “What can I do?” he asked quietly.

Yoda moved to sit behind Luke and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be at peace,” he said gently. “Isolate your anger. Let the Force take it.”

For the first time, Luke truly did as he was told and a few seconds later, he opened his eyes. “It worked!” He breathed, and beamed. “I did it!”

“Yes,” said Yoda thoughtfully. “Do this always, you must. Feels hate, a Jedi does not. Feels anger, a Jedi does not. Remember this.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” said Luke respectfully, emboldened by his success.

“Done enough, we have,” said Yoda at last. “Rest.”

Every step he took was more difficult than the last.

Was he walking to his death? To Luke’s? Vader was careful to maintain his pace and normal calm, but his mind was raging behind the delicate shields he kept in place at all times. After the Emperor’s order, he had done as commanded and returned to Coruscant, leaving the newly promoted Admiral Piett in command of his ship.

How angry was the Emperor? If Vader knew the man at all, he would try to twist this new information about Luke to his own advantage, but how? And what would he do to his apprentice? Vader had long ago stopped considering the idea that Palpatine would physically harm him—seriously, at least. Palpatine knew that his body wasn’t capable of surviving much more, and if the machinery was damaged, he would be a helpless invalid, or dead.

Unless, that was what he had in mind, and wanted to remove him. To take a new apprentice.

Luke.

Behind the mask, Vader’s eyes widened. No. Had his actions only condemned his son to the hell his father had willingly entered? Had all his protections merely prolonged the inevitable?

Swallowing his fear for the moment, Vader walked past the red-robed guards of the Imperial throne room and stepped inside, dropping to one knee easily in front of the throne.

“So.” The ruined voice echoed in the chamber. “I have received some interesting news, Vader.”

Vader didn’t respond. What could he say? He merely kept himself behind a cool mask—not that he needed another one—and waited for his master to continue.

“The Rebel pilot. Can you imagine what his name is, my apprentice?”

Should he respond? What would he say? Would he mock the man by claiming the negative? He chose to remain silent.

“Skywalker. Luke Skywalker.” The despot made the name sound like blaspheme. Despite himself, Vader flinched. “This is interesting, is it not, my apprentice?”

Vader kept his mouth shut. His son was alive. It was worth any torment his master had in mind, unless he was to take Luke as an apprentice.

With an inhuman cry of anger, Palpatine raised his arms and suddenly Vader flew back and hit the wall. He fell to the ground, surprised. “You disobeyed me! You helped that brat escape. You lied.”

Vader’s body suddenly slid across the ground and he was raised to his feet to stand in front of the Emperor, whose eyes were glowing yellow. “After everything I have taught you, you let the weak, pathetic Anakin Skywalker claim you again,” Palpatine sneered. “You have failed.”

“Master—” Vader began, true fear beginning to spread throughout his body.

“Tell me why, Vader,” Palpatine said, changing his tactic as quickly as the politician in him was wont to do. “Tell me. Why did you save your son?”

Vader said nothing. No words would help him now.

“Tell me, my apprentice,” Palpatine continued, the words sounding sickly sweet. “Did you love him?”

The armored man flinched.

“You’re weak,” Palpatine spat, abandoning the mocking approach. “You disgust me.” For a second, his rage seemed to abate.

Still Vader remained silent.

He stared at his apprentice—the man he had rescued two decades hence, a burned and blackened cripple, and had resurrected into the most fearsome of monsters the Galaxy had ever seen. “You will still serve a purpose,” he said finally, his mouth stretching in a gruesome smile. “Oh, yes. I won’t kill you yet.”

Vader stood silently. He couldn’t escape.

“You, my friend, will bring me my new apprentice, since you failed to be a decent one yourself,” the Emperor hissed. “Your son.”

The man/machine that had once been Anakin Skywalker tensed. No.

Palpatine laughed. “Oh, yes. He loves you, doesn’t he, Vader? I send him a little dream of your pain, and he will come. He will turn to the Dark Side just as willingly as Anakin Skywalker did in a vain attempt to save his wife. All it will take is a few careful hints. Empty promises.”

Behind the mask, Vader gritted his teeth. He had learned, years later, that he had been incapable of saving his Padmé, but to have Palpatine jeer over how easily he had been manipulated was unbearable. He clenched his fists, wishing to wrap them around the man’s neck, to crush the life out of him like a petty underling.

“Oh, he will turn,” said Palpatine with another cackle. “His love”—he spat the word—“is such that he will do anything to save his father. And I will turn him, Vader. I will mold him into the Sith that you could never hope to be. You, with half your midi-chlorians destroyed by the same fire that left you a hardly human! Luke will be the greatest of all the Sith!”

Vader forgot himself. “NO!” He launched himself at the Sith Lord, grabbing his lightsaber in his hands and bringing it crashing down on his master’s head.

He didn’t get the chance.

Force-lightning poured from Palpatine’s hands into his chest and he flew back, his lightsaber clattering to the floor and rolling away from him as the energy flowed through him, melting circuits and electrocuting the prosthetics.

It was Mustafar all over again.

He could feel what was left of his body getting seared by the lightning, the connections between bionic limbs and flesh smoking, charring, the respirator destroyed.

It was agony.

It stopped.

He gasped for breath, his ruined lungs trying valiantly to get the oxygen for the rest of his body. Dimly, he heard the Emperor’s harsh voice. “Take it away. Keep it alive.”

He had failed.

Luke was lost.

“NO!”

Luke jerked awake, dripping sweat.

No.

No.

No!

He fumbled for a glass of water and found it, his shaking hands spilling the liquid over his bare chest. Had that truly happened? Was his father at the mercy of the Emperor once more? Was the Emperor killing him?

He desperately reached out to the Force to calm himself. He had to think this through rationally.

His father was dying! Because of him!

Luke made his decision in a split second. He threw back the covers of his makeshift bed and grabbed his lightsaber. Emperor or no, he would save his father.

“Acting rashly, you are,” Yoda’s voice echoed in the darkness. Luke froze and gradually the small hut lit itself. Yoda stood, watching him, a sad expression on his face. “Go, you cannot.”

“I have to!” Luke cried out. “You don’t understand! My father needs me!”

“A Jedi you are not yet,” said Yoda firmly. “Defeat the Emperor you cannot.”

“I don’t want to!” Luke shouted. “I just want to help my father!” He stormed out of the hut, heading for the clearing in which his X-Wing sat.

“Luke, you cannot go,” said a familiar voice. Luke whirled around, tears falling down his cheeks. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?” he snapped angrily.

The glowing visage of the Jedi Master was clearly disturbed. “If you go, you are playing right into his hands, Luke.”

“I don’t care! If I don’t go, my father will die,” Luke said tightly. “It’s more important to save him.”

“More important than the fate of the Galaxy?” Obi-Wan countered. “More important than the balance of the Force?”

“This isn’t about the rest of the Galaxy!” Luke shouted. “This is about me and my father!”

“Complete your training, you must,” said Yoda, who had followed him.

“And just leave him to die?” Luke spat. “No. I refuse.”

“If you honor Anakin Skywalker, you must stay,” said Obi-Wan. “The Anakin I knew would want you to stay.”

“Yeah, and you let him burn alive and you want me to kill him,” Luke said angrily. “I’ll make my own decisions on what my father wants, thanks.”

“Anakin was like a brother to me, Luke,” said Obi-Wan gently. “I never wanted to hurt him.”

“Shut up!” Luke screamed. “I don’t want to hear it!”

Obi-Wan drew back, his brow furrowed. “You are letting the Dark Side take you over, Luke,” he said imploringly. “Reject it! Only if you stay here can you become a Jedi!”

Luke ignored him and merely climbed into his flight suit. “I’ll come back,” he said finally. “I’ll finish my training.”

“You must let go of your feelings for your father, Luke,” said Obi-Wan. “They cloud your mind. Palpatine is using them to draw you to him. A Jedi must not feel as strongly as you do.”

“Then I don’t want to be a Jedi!” Luke snapped. “My father needs me!”

Both Jedi Masters bowed their heads in sorrow. “If leave you do, forsaken the Jedi you will have.,” said Yoda at last. “Turned your back on the Order, like your father, you will have.”

Luke’s shoulders tensed. “This isn’t about the rest of the Galaxy,” he repeated. “I’m going.” With that, he climbed into his fighter and shut the transparisteel cockpit, readying the ship for takeoff. On the ground, he could see Yoda turning away as if in pain, and Obi-Wan beginning to fade. Gritting his teeth, he turned on his life-support systems and proceeded with the pre-flight checks, blocking out the guilt and worry that he wasn’t doing the right thing.

Once his X-Wing was in the air, he said, “Artoo, set a course for Mustafar. We’ve got to recruit some help.” He wasn’t foolish enough to think that he could take on the Emperor—and all of Coruscant—alone. Surely Han and Chewie would help him, if no one else would. He had saved Chewie’s life once, so he would be able to call on the life-oath that the wookiee had with him. And Han… Han would follow him into any danger, and say that it was his idea all along on the way out. Luke allowed himself a small smile as the craft plunged into hyperspace. He would save his father.

Luke fought back a jolt of apprehension as the X-Wing exited hyperspace two days after leaving Dagobah. To know that this was the planet where his father had suffered so much, where he and Obi-Wan had fought was almost too much to bear. He spoke into his comm, “This is Rogue 2, Mustafar Base, requesting permission to land and coordinates.”

“Luke! Welcome back! We thought you’d been taken prisoner!” A familiar voice greeted him on the other end. Luke shook his head slightly. The day that they had deserted Hoth seemed like a lifetime ago.

“No, just got bogged down trying to find a replacement for my hyperdrive,” he said at last. “Took me a while.”

“Well, we’re glad to hear you’re okay. I’m sending the coordinates of your landing pad right now.”

“Thanks,” said Luke, cutting the transmission and attempting to quell his raging thoughts and emotions as they drew near to the surface of the molten planet. He fought nausea as the molten lava flows and fumes drifted into the atmosphere, giving an unhealthy orange glint on everything. He allowed Artoo to take the craft to the landing pad, not sure if his nerves would be able to handle it. When the X-Wing finally lowered onto the dock, he saw Han and Leia running towards him from the building. He jumped out of the starship, swallowing bile, and managed a weak grin as they came up to him.

Leia threw her arms around him in a relieved hug—a hug that was watched with some jealousy on Han’s part—and Han clapped his hand on Luke’s back. “Jedi yet?” the smuggler asked with grin.

Luke shook his head. “That’s not why I came here. I need help.”

Leia drew back. “What’s wrong?” she pressed.

“I’ll explain inside,” Luke said quickly, glancing at the lava far beneath him. “I’d prefer to get out of here.”

Leia nodded sympathetically and Luke realized that Han had told her why Mustafar was such a safe place from the Empire. “Let’s go, then,” she said. “We can talk in my rooms.”

“Where’s Chewie?” Luke asked distractedly.

“The Falcon,” said Han. “Workin’ on the gun turret.”

“Let’s go there, then, if you don’t mind, Leia,” Luke said heavily. “I need to talk to him, too.”

She nodded. “Of course.” They walked swiftly into the building perched on the rocks and Luke noted that they had transformed it into a large hangar. To the far left, the Millennium Falcon sat, annoyed roars coming from within.

Once they managed to get inside, Luke, exhausted, dropped onto a chair and put his head in his hands. Chewie appeared a moment later and placed a comforting arm around the young Jedi’s shoulders. “What is it, kid?” Han asked, truly concerned.

Luke looked up to him with red-rimmed eyes that showed how tired he was. “My father,” he said shortly. Leia flinched despite herself. “He’s in trouble.”

Han frowned. “What happened?”

“The Emperor found out I was alive, somehow,” said Luke. “He called my father back to Coruscant, and is…” He hung his head, guilt ripping at him.

“What?” Han questioned gently.

“He’s killing him,” Luke whispered. “To get me to come and be his apprentice.”

“But isn’t Vader his apprentice?” Leia interrupted swiftly.

Luke nodded. “But… when my father helped us to escape, and then lied to the Emperor about it…” He waited for a moment to let it sink in. “He’s furious. He’s going to keep him alive long enough for me to get there.”

Han and Leia’s horrified faces and Chewie’s angry growl showed they understood. “How d’you know this?” Han asked at last.

“A dream,” said Luke shortly. “Like the one of Mustafar,” he explained. Han’s eyes widened, but Leia grew confused.

“What do you mean?” she questioned, bewildered.

Luke turned to her. “I had two dreams when I lived with my father,” he said shortly. “In the first one, I relived his experiences here, when he fought Obi-Wan Kenobi and lost. The second was a little after that, when he was…” Luke stopped, trying to phrase it so that they would understand. “When he was going through operations,” he settled on the most vague terms. “Both were completely accurate. This one was the same.”

Han let out a slow hiss. “Then he’s on Coruscant?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to go rescue him?”

Luke nodded. Han and Leia stared at him and the former scratched his head wonderingly. “All right, then,” he said with a weak imitation of his usual grin. “We’ve done crazier stuff.”

Luke’s jaw dropped. “You mean it?”

Han nodded. “If we can’t do it, who can?”

“You’re both crazy!” Leia found her voice. She was pale. “Listen, I lived on Coruscant,” she began, her words spilling out in a rush. “There’s no way the Millennium Falcon will get within two parsecs of it without being targeted. And even if you did manage to get on Coruscant, you have no idea where Vader is! You’d never be able to get past the Emperor’s guards!”

“My ally is the Force,” said Luke firmly. “And we’re not taking the Falcon.”

“We’re not?” Han asked stupidly.

“No,” said Luke. “It’s too recognizable. We’re going to Bain.”

“What?” Leia asked, her brow furrowed.

“My father’s world,” Luke said. The idea had dawned on him during hyperspace. “He has a private fleet there. He showed me.”

“His world?” Han asked in disbelief.

“A fleet?” Leia asked in equal astonishment. “As in… battle ships?” she asked weakly.

“Mostly starships, shuttles, and cruisers,” said Luke unconcernedly. “But I think he has three prototype destroyers in orbit. The point is; we could take one to his private residence on Coruscant. His shuttles are all cloaked and really fast.” Luke could tell he’d made an impression on the former princess when she sank to a chair next to him.

“His own world?” Han repeated to himself in disbelief. “I wonder how much a world costs.”

“It was a reward,” said Luke in response. He turned to Leia. “I’ve got to do this. I know you hate him, and I know that he’s hurt you, but he’s my father. I have to help him.”

Leia hung her head. “I’ll cover for you,” she said at last.

“Thanks, Leia,” said Luke, relieved. He stood. “We’ve got to go now, Han.”

Leia stood as well, biting her lip like Luke did when he was nervous. “Please don’t get killed,” she said to them. She hugged Luke and then turned to Han awkwardly. “Han…”

“Ah, shaddup, princess,” Han said, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him, kissing her. Luke laughed out loud. They separated, Leia’s face red. “I figured if I’m goin’ on this suicide mission I might as well have some fun,” Han said, grinning. His face softened. “Take care of yourself, Leia.”

Still speechless, Leia nodded and touched a finger to his cheek. “See you soon.” With that, she turned and went down the ramp and back to the hangar.

“I told you that you liked her,” said Luke, smiling.

Han ignored him. “Let’s get ready, then.”

“Oh, Master Luke! Master Luke!” Luke turned around to see C-3PO and R2-D2 walking and rolling, respectively, up the boarding ramp.

“Threepio?” Luke asked in surprise. “Artoo, what are you doing?”

The little droid responded in a series of excited beeps. “He says that he thinks you will need a hacker on your mission,” said Threepio. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, sir. He’s so stubborn!”

Luke furrowed his brow. “He’s probably right. Come on, Artoo.”

“Oh, Master Luke!” Luke rolled his eyes.

“You can come too, Threepio,” he said dryly. As soon as the droids were safely inside, he went to the cockpit. “We’ve got some company,” he told Han, who was starting up the pre-flight sequences.

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” said Luke, remembering suddenly Han’s distaste for the golden droid. “Hey, Chewie, I’ve got the coordinates, okay?” The wookiee nodded its head and accepted the datapad from the Jedi’s hand. “I’m going to try and contact him, okay?” he told Han nervously.

The smuggler looked up. “With your Jedi thing?” he asked mistrustfully.

“Yeah.”

Han shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Luke nodded and then returned to his bunk of old, sitting down like he had during the three years he had spent as a carefree smuggler. He wrinkled his nose. Not exactly carefree, but the closest he had come since before Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had died. And now, here he was, a Rebel pilot about to go on, as Han had put it, a suicide mission to save Darth Vader.

Sighing, he slipped into a meditative trance and cautiously asked, Father? There was no response, and that chilled him to the core. His father had always answered his call, no matter what the time or situation. Luke bit his lip. He would have to actively search for his father’s presence, which meant drawing near to the Emperor.

Steeling himself, he reached across the Force. There were only so many Force-adepts, after all. He felt stretched impossibly thin as he searched the Force for the specific signature that was his father.

When he found it, he almost lost his concentration in surprise. His father’s presence, normally so strong, was weak. The emotive energy surrounding him was dark, with bursts of love and hope shining through like a sun through clouds. Luke reached down and whispered, Father?

He felt his father’s presence become slightly stronger, and Luke almost jumped for joy when he responded, Luke?

Are you all right? Where are you? Has the Emperor got you? Are you okay? Luke asked quickly. He felt a brief stab of pain float across their bond.

I… Luke, do not come to Coruscant. His father’s mind-voice was weak, but adamant. The Emperor wants to make you his apprentice. I cannot let you come here. I cannot let you become a slave to the Dark Side as I have.

The admission almost shocked Luke into severing the bond. Father, you can come back, he reminded the man. I know you can.

Luke, please don’t come! Just let me die here! Vader’s voice sounded desperate.

I am coming to save you, Father, said Luke firmly. That bastard has had you long enough.

Don’t… Luke… Suddenly his father’s voice went silent and Luke scrabbled for the connection, relieved when he felt that his father was still alive, just unconscious. He eased himself out of meditation, releasing his anger into the Force as Yoda had taught him.

When he opened his eyes, he glanced out the porthole window and saw the familiar streaks of hyperspace. His exhaustion finally overpowering him, he fell back onto his bed and let sleep overcome his senses.

“Kid, we’re there, but we need you to pilot the ship. Get up, already!”

Luke opened his eyes blearily to see Han’s face staring at him. The smuggler gave him another shake. “We’re there?” he asked wearily, sitting up.

“Yeah,” said Han. “And we got no idea where to land. It’s like the whole planet is rock or water.” He wrinkled his nose. “Not much good unless your old man lives underwater or somethin.’”

“No, inside the cliff,” Luke corrected with a yawn. He sat up and jumped down from his bunk. “Come on.”

Han followed him to the cockpit and Luke sat down with a sigh. “I’m fine, Chewie,” he said to the wookiee’s concerned question. “Just exhausted. Once we get home, I’m definitely going to order something to eat first.”

“Home?” Han asked dubiously.

Luke shrugged. “It’s better than Tatooine,” he said truthfully. “And it was nice here,” he added as an afterthought, remembering Vader’s and his retreat to the world. Relying on his memory, he piloted the Corellian freighter down towards the main landmass, expertly handling the craft. Soon, he had landed it on the same dock his father had used so many years before.

“This is it?” Han asked doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Luke shortly. “I don’t remember if he changed the environmental controls, so bring a breather just in case,” he instructed Han, who stared at him, confused.

“What environmental controls?”

“He can only take off the mask in an oxygen-rich environment,” Luke explained wearily. “When I came here with him, he changed it so that everywhere except his chambers were regular air.”

“Oh,” said Han. “Chewie, can you get the breathers for us?” he asked the wookiee, who nodded and reached above their heads to get the old, but functional, apparatuses.

“Let’s go, then,” said Luke, pressing the buttons that brought the boarding ramp down. “Come on.”

Han, Chewie, Threepio, and Artoo followed him down the ramp and Luke led the way to the sheer face of the cliff that Luke knew was just the face for his father’s enormous hangars and workshops as well as his private residence. Han stared in wonderment as they entered the arched hallway that led deep into the cliffside, watching with even more surprise as the wall brackets that held light-producing plasma lit themselves as Luke walked past.

They had almost reached the end when suddenly, sections of the rock disappeared and several battle droids stepped out that Luke recognized from his brush-in his first day here. They all held a blaster and a lightsaber. “Intruders!” said the first one.

Luke drew his lightsaber but didn’t activate it. “I am Master Luke Vader,” he said coldly. “And I’m bringing these people and droids with me.” Han had jumped back in surprise when the droids exited the supposedly solid rock and his jaw had dropped when he heard Luke’s address.

“Kid…” he said, terrified as more droids surrounded them from behind.

“Find QT-28,” Luke instructed. “He will verify.”

“Imposter!” Another said loudly.

With a sigh, Luke waved a hand and they all clattered to the floor. “I hoped they would just obey,” he said. “My father taught me how to turn them off, though.”

“Good thing,” Han said weakly. “Your dad values his privacy, doesn’t he?”

Luke shrugged. “He told me that Black Sun once found out about this place and tried to attack it, so he added the security measures. Anyway, we’re going there,” he said pointing to the shining door ahead.

“Are there anymore ‘security measures’ I should know about?” Han asked.

“I don’t know,” Luke replied truthfully. “He never told me about them.”

“That’s great,” Han muttered to himself, just as they reached the silvery durasteel door that was the entrance to the place. He jumped back as it slid open at a wave of Luke’s hand. “Of course,” he said weakly. “This is Vader’s house. You’d have to use magic to get in.”

Luke laughed slightly ahead of him and then pressed the breather over his mouth. Behind him, Han and Chewie followed suit and the smuggler’s eyes widened in astonishment as they entered the grand foyer. “Oh my!” Threepio exclaimed. “Master Luke, this is your father’s home?”

“Yes,” said Luke just as a much sleeker protocol droid than Threepio entered the foyer.

“Master Luke!” The droid said in surprise. “I saw your entrance, and did not have enough time to call off the battle droids. My apologies, sir, but it has been a very long time since they have seen you.”

“It’s okay, Cutie,” Luke reassured the droid. “Can you tell the mainframe to change the environmental makeup to normal?”

The droid—QT-28—gave a little bow. “Of course, Master Luke.”

“And…” Luke scratched his head. “Han, Chewie, what do you want to eat?”

Han stared at him. “What?”

“Cutie, do you remember my favorite meal?” Luke asked the droid.

“Of course, Master Luke. Bantha steak with a side of”—the droid responded immediately.

Luke interrupted her. “Four orders, please. Send them to my room, okay?”

“Of course, Master Luke,” said the droid, and it turned back to walk down the hall quickly.

“This…” Han said, looking at his surroundings. “This is weird.”

Luke shrugged. “We can’t stay long. A standard day at most.” He looked to the small control panel at the side of the hallway and removed his breathing apparatus as the blinking green light suddenly went solid. “You can take them off,” he told Han and Chewie behind him.

They did so and followed Luke down the long hallway. “Where are we going?” Han asked curiously.

“My room,” said Luke, stopping in front of a silver door identical to the rest and opening it with a flick of his hand. He stepped inside and fought back the wave of nostalgia that the room produced. Everything was as he had left it—his covers on his bed were even unmade, still. He walked over to his worktable to look at the logic processor he had been modifying. He had been trying to make a psychotic droid, but his father had stopped him. There were two ancient books on saber techniques still lying on his desk, both open to pages detailing how one could throw a saber while lit.

“This is weird,” Han repeated with a shake of his head. “Too weird.”

“Why?” Luke asked curiously, pulling off his surcoat—he never had changed his style of dress—and throwing it down the laundry chute.

“I dunno,” Han admitted. “It’s just weird to think you have a bedroom. You were always on the Executor, or with me, or on the move with the Rebellion.”

“I haven’t been here in a long time,” Luke agreed, peering into his closet and almost laughing when he saw the too-small clothes still sitting, folded on the shelves. “I’ll tell Cutie to bring me some new clothes. Do you want to take a shower?” Luke offered.

“I took a sonic shower this morning,” said Han. “I’m good.”

“It’s real water,” Luke said.

“Really?” Han asked in surprise.

“We are on a planet that is 85 water,” said Luke, laughing. “You can take one after the kitchen droid brings our food.” His timing was perfect. Just then, a droid with arms welded to a large tray and a single photoreceptor entered the room, the tray laden with several dishes.

“Master Luke, shall I place them on the table?” The droid asked, its vocoder slightly tinny.

“Yes, thanks, I-B32,” said Luke, moving aside to let the droid roll forward into his room. It lowered and slid the food from the tray to the table.

“I will return in one standard half hour, Master Luke,” said the droid, and it removed itself from the room. Han just stared at the food.

“This is too weird,” he repeated again, sitting down at the table and dragging a plate to him. “Is this Neema-fruit?” he asked in disbelief. “This is really rare! Ever since the Empire decided it didn’t like Naboo, all crops are governmentally sanctioned. Impossible to get hold of!”

“It’s my father’s favorite food,” said Luke after he swallowed his first bite of Bantha steak. “Like Naboo is his favorite world.”

“He can eat?” Han asked in surprise.

Luke’s eyebrows raised. “Of course he can. I only ever ate with him twice, but he’s capable of doing so. Did you think he powered down or something?”

“No, it’s just…” Han struggled to find the words. “No one has ever seen him with his mask off. I heard in flight school once that after a fight with a Jedi he killed the doctor who treated him.”

Luke flinched. “Well, it’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “Just really scarred.”

“Oh,” said Han, furrowing his brow. After a moment, he muttered to himself, “I can’t believe he likes Neema-fruit.”

After they finished the meal, Luke retrieved new clothes from the large utility chambers that housed the kitchen, laundry, and other needs. When he returned to his room, Han had obviously showered and so he did the same. He dressed in the clothes that he had requested be modeled like the ones he had seen his father wear during their stay at Bain. Luke had the sneaking suspicion that they were basically Jedi robes.

“So what do we do now?” Han asked once Luke had reentered his room.

“We’re going to look through his personal terminal,” said Luke firmly. “There should be some kind of outline or information on the Emperor’s palace there.”

“Is there gonna be Jedi droids waiting for us?” Han asked doubtfully.

“No,” Luke said immediately. “I don’t think so,” he added after a moment’s hesitation. He left the room and walked to the end, Han and Chewie following him somewhat reluctantly. Luke breathed a sigh of relief when the door easily slid open with a nudge of the Force. He had been afraid that his father would have Force-locked it like he had done sometimes on the Executor.

When they entered, Han stopped dead-still. “What is it?” Luke asked impatiently.

Han’s face was pale. “I never actually believed you that he was as bad injured as you said,” he said weakly, staring around at the extensive medical equipment, the Bacta tank, and the various medical droids that were powered down. The room was completely sterile.

Luke felt a flash of discomfort on his father’s part. “He doesn’t exactly like to talk about it,” he said finally. “So don’t ask him about it when we rescue him, okay?”

Han shook his head as if clearing it. “Got it. Man, this is weird.”

Luke groaned. “What now?”

With a faint grin, Han gestured at the meditation pod. “I never, ever thought I’d be in Darth Vader’s bedroom,” he said with a weak laugh.

Luke stared at him for a moment before grinning wearily. “Ha, ha,” he said. “We’ve got to do this. Artoo?”

The little droid rolled up to him. “I know there’s a password on this to turn it on and to access the files,” he informed the droid. “We need to get past it.”

The astromech responded in a few upbeat whistles and rolled over to the computer jack, plugging himself in. Luke turned to face Han, his face troubled as he remembered his father’s plight. “What if we fail, Han?” he asked dully.

“We won’t,” said the smuggler with false bravado. “We can die trying, if anything.”

Luke hung his head. “If we die, then the only Jedi left is Yoda,” he said, rubbing his temple. “We can’t die.”

“Luke Skywalker can get out of any mess,” said Han. “That’s something I’ve learned over the years. If your old man is anything like you, this should be a breeze.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “A breeze?”

“Yeah,” said Han, shrugging.

Luke sighed. “I don’t even really know him well. I know Darth Vader, but all I know of Anakin Skywalker are just brief flashes when he lets his persona slip, other than when he let us go, and kept me safe from the Emperor.”

“Anakin Skywalker?” Han said in surprise. “That’s his name?”

Luke nodded, and Han’s eyes grew wide. “What is it?”

“Wow,” Han breathed. “Did you know that he’s considered to be the best podracer in history? And he’s the only human winner in the history of the sport? And that he won the Boonta Eve Podrace when he was nine years old?”

Luke knew vaguely what podracing was, but Han’s enthusiasm was bewildering. “No, I didn’t know that. How did you? And why is it important?”

“When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was a podracer,” said Han, shaking his head in wonderment. “A friend of mine—a kid named Vij—he had seen it, ‘cause he’d grown up on Tatooine. I wanted to be Anakin Skywalker after that.” Han gave a little shudder. “That’s weird. How could he be Darth Vader? No wonder he’s practically the best pilot in the Galaxy.”

“Shouldn’t you have guessed when I told you my name?” Luke asked dryly.

Han shrugged. “I figured it was a common name, or something. Wow,” he repeated. “I have a newfound respect for your dad, kid.”

After a while, Artoo withdrew from the terminal and beeped insistently for Luke to come over. Luke hesitantly stepped inside the jaws of the meditation chamber and sat in his father’s chair. He peered down at the screen, which was now blank save for a multitude of labeled three-dimensional icons. His fingers itched to look at the file entitled “Luke,” but he instead tapped his finger on the one that was labeled “Imperial Center.” In an instant, a new datascreen was brought up and several new files opened. Han peered over his shoulder and whistled. “Bit of an organization freak, isn’t he?”

“It’s his plan for the Empire when he’s Emperor,” Luke said dryly. “Order to the chaos.” It was a theme he had heard his father speak of many times. “He hates disorder for anything.”

“Ah,” said Han, raising his eyebrows.

Luke tapped on the “Imperial Palace” icon, but to his dismay, a voice-activated window popped up on the screen. He groaned. “Artoo, how can I get past this?”

The astromech tried for a few minutes to bypass it, but the computer was stubborn. “It was definitely my father who wired this computer,” Luke said aloud, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms. “Any ideas?” he asked Han, who backed away, arms raised.

“I dunno anything about computers, kid,” the smuggler admitted truthfully. “Don’ look at me.”

Luke sat silently for a few minutes until he leapt to his feet. “Hold on for a second,” he told Han, sprinting out of the meditation pod to an adjoining room. A minute later, he returned with a complicated-looking contraption.

“What’s that?” Han asked distrustfully as Luke sank back into the chair, turned on the machinery, and placed it below his mouth and over his chin.

“Vocoder,” Luke said, but Han heard Darth Vader’s voice echo throughout the chamber. His eyes went wide.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You could have some serious fun with that.”

Luke grinned, the process slightly hampered by the machinery, and turned his attention to the console. “Darth Vader,” he said imperiously towards the terminal.

Nothing happened. Luke frowned. “What am I doing wrong?” he asked Han, who looked very disturbed by his different voice.

“I dunno,” Han said at last. “Try his full title.”

“Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.” Still nothing happened. Luke slumped back in his chair. “It must be a voice-activated password,” he said finally.

“Then what’s the password?”

“I have no idea,” Luke admitted.

Han jumped as if struck by something. “Try his name!” he suggested. “Try ‘Anakin Skywalker.’”

“Why?” Luke asked, confused. “He pretends Anakin doesn’t exist.”

“Exactly,” said Han. “No one knows he’s Anakin Skywalker. So no one would be able to guess that.”

Just what Han was suggesting finally dawned on Luke. “Anakin Skywalker,” he said to the computer, and instantly the files on the palace were brought up. Han smirked. “Thanks,” Luke said.

“I’ll be sure to let His Lordship know that I broke his little code,” said Han, grinning.

Luke’s brow furrowed at the mention of his father and Han instantly regretted it. Luke ignored the stab of discomfort from his friend and just focused on the files, searching for the one that he thought he needed.

Finally, he found one entitled “Structural Architecture” and went to it, and instantly a holo of the palace was projected in front of him. Luke stood and examined it closely. Each chamber was carefully labeled.

“So that’s where we don’ wanna go,” said Han, jabbing a finger towards the largest room in the palace—the throne room.

“Exactly,” Luke said grimly. “Come on. We have to find a way into this place.”

Several hours later, they had come up with a rudimentary plan to avoid all of the Royal Guards that were stationed throughout the palace at regular intervals. “Do you think this will work?” Luke asked Han, staring at the sequential steps he had jotted down on a datapad.

Han scratched his head. “I got no idea.” He grinned impishly at Luke. “We’ll have to trust the Force,” he quipped.

Luke rolled his eyes. “I leave that magic stuff to them Jedi,” he retorted, mocking Han.

Han burst out laughing, but Luke sighed. “We haven’t got much time. We’ve got to leave.”

“Already?” Han asked, turning serious. “I kind of like this place.”

“We’ve got to choose a ship,” said Luke. “You know, he modifies all his ships himself,” he told the smuggler. “I can’t imagine what he’d do if he saw the Falcon.”

“No way is Darth Vader touching my ship,” said Han instantly.

“Come on,” said Luke wearily, standing and pocketing the datapad onto which they had loaded the blueprints for the palace. He turned and let Han follow him out of his father’s chambers and led the way down the hall and through the military room to another hallway that had just one door. When he opened it, Han gasped audibly as he saw the immense room as big as the hangar on the Executor. Starships of all shapes and sizes filled the room. The smuggler just walked past Luke, as if in a daze, and wandered around, staring at the snub fighters, shuttles, and cruisers that hailed from all over the galaxy. He stopped beside a sleek, silvery cruiser. “Is that an original Naboo cruiser?” Han questioned in awe.

“Yeah,” Luke affirmed. “But we’re not here to admire his collection, Han,” he reminded the smuggler, who seemed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

“Right,” said Han, getting down to business. “Think we’ll need one with medical capabilities?” he offered.

“Full life-support,” said Luke heavily, his heart sinking. “Let me look,” he said, turning to the terminal to the right of the entrance. “He let me look through here once,” he explained. “It’s a catalog of everything he has, and all the modifications,” he told Han, whose eyes widened. He sat down at the terminal and quickly entered the database. A few minutes later, he heaved a sigh. “He hasn’t got any former medical ships,” he said. “Just a shuttle with emergency life support in case his suit gets damaged.”

“Then we’ll take that one,” said Han instantly. “Where is it?”

“Theta-class shuttle, silver paint,” said Luke, pointing towards the ship. “Over there.”

“All right,” said Han. “Has it got blasters and rations on board?” Luke nodded. “Then let’s get Chewie, Threepio and Artoo and go. Of course, we could leave the golden hunk of metal here.”

“I don’t even know where Threepio is,” said Luke, bewildered. “He didn’t come with us into my father’s chambers.”

“Means he likes it here,” sad Han with a laugh. “He’s got a crush on Cutie.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he told the smuggler. “I’m going to find them.”

Luke reentered the residence and returned to his room, where Chewie had ordered more food from the server droid—it seemed that they were all programmed with various languages. “Chewie, we’ve got to go,” he said, and the wookiee looked up. “We’ve got everything we need,” Luke affirmed to his question. “Do you know where Threepio is?”

Chewie growled the negative and stood, handing out a long, black cloth to Luke. He took it curiously. “What is this?”

Chewie indicated he should put it on, and Luke obeyed the wookiee, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw that it was the outer robe for the Jedi ensemble. He grinned. “Thanks, Chewie,” he said gratefully. “Did you order it while Han and I were in the hangar?” The wookiee nodded, saying that he had once known a lot of Jedi and that this type of rescue mission just proved that he was one. “Thanks,” Luke repeated humbly. “But we’ve got to go now. It takes three days to get there, and I don’t know how badly my father is hurt.” The wookiee nodded again and stood, ushering Luke out the door.

“Oh, Master Luke!” Threepio’s panicked voice echoed down the hallway and Luke whipped around, seeing the battle droids from the training room following Threepio, sabers lit. “Help me, Master Luke! They simply won’t respond to diplomacy! Nasty, brutish things!” Threepio cried.

Luke waved a hand and they all stopped and deactivated their blades. Caught with an idea, he walked over to the cluster of ten droids and said to them, “I am Master Luke Vader,” he said. “You are to accompany us on a mission targeting Royal Guards and storm troopers. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Luke Vader,” they all said in unison.

“You are not to attack civilians, C-3PO, R2-D2, Chewbacca, or Han Solo,” said Luke in the same measured voice. “Our goal is to enter the Palace and retrieve Master Vader. Do you understand?”

They repeated: “Yes, Master Luke Vader.”

“Good,” said Luke. “Follow me,” he said. Chewie growled questioningly at him. “I know what I’m doing,” said Luke, his smile wan. “I helped to build them. At least, to rebuild them.”

When they returned to the hangar, Han had already gotten the shuttle prepped for flight and the secret exit had opened, showing the bad weather outside. He appeared at the top of the boarding ramp, looking dubiously at the array of droids Luke had procured. “Nice army,” he said. “Are they Jedi droids or something?”

Luke nodded. “More like Sith droids,” he said. “They attacked me my first day here.” He shuddered a little at the memory.

“Well, we’re ready for takeoff,” said Han. “And I found two suits of extra storm trooper armor. I think we should wear them.”

“As a disguise?” Luke asked instantly, and the smuggler nodded. “It’ll give us cover for at least a while, until we get to wherever your dad is. Speakin’ of which, how’re you gonna find ‘im anyway?”

“The Force,” said Luke shortly, buckling himself in the co-pilot’s chair. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he said finally.

“Done,” said Han, sliding into the pilot’s seat and strapping himself in. He heaved a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

The shuttle rose into the air and Han carefully flew it through the tunnel at the opposite end of the hangar. Once they reemerged, it was storming badly and Han rose quickly to get out of the gale, and they were soon in space. “You ready?” the smuggler asked at last.

Luke nodded. “Let’s do it.’

“All right, then,” said Han, pushing a lever. In an instant, they entered hyperspace.

“I’m going to check on my father,” Luke said, standing. “I’ll be back in a few.” He went to the back of the ship and sat down on one of the exposed seats, clearing his mind and reaching for the Force. This time, however, the swirling energy caught him in a web and slowly cleared to reveal a vision.

Luke lay on a bed, staring straight at the ceiling. He tried to move his neck from side to side, but he stubbornly remained still. He began to panic as he realized that he couldn’t feel or move his arms and legs either. Some kind of mask over the lower half of his face obscured his vision.

“Lord Vader. Or, shall I say, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?” The voice was mocking. “It seems that your son does not perhaps care for you as much as we thought, hmm?” The voice was broken and harsh, and in the vision Luke felt the urge to cringe. The Emperor.

He moved his lips and a weak, hoarse voice, muffled by the breath mask over his face, left his lips. “He’s smarter than you thought, you mean.”

Palpatine let out a cackle. “He will come,” he said after his laughter had subsided. “Even now, the presence that is your Jedi son grows nearer.”

Luke could find nothing to say. He couldn’t refute the statement, because they both knew it was truth. He remained silent.

“And I will turn him,” Palpatine hissed. “He will fall, like his pathetic fool of a father did. And he will watch, and do nothing, as I kill you.”

Luke felt a burst of desperation. “He won’t turn,” he said coldly. “My son is not so trusting as I was.”

“‘Trusting?’” Palpatine mocked. “You weren’t trusting. You knew what was happening. All you could think was that you had to save your precious wife, your little senator. Padmé. And, like you, Luke will kill the one he will try to save.”

Immense anger and shame swept through Luke. “You’re wrong,” he whispered hoarsely. “Luke won’t turn.”

Palpatine laughed. “Nonsense. You already began the process, my former apprentice.”

“He won’t.”

“Then I shall prove it to you, when he comes to me, and offers his life for yours,” said Palpatine. “The last of the Skywalkers will be mine.”

Luke opened his eyes, chilled to the core. His vision—it had happened, he knew it. His father was somewhere in the Imperial Palace, with the Emperor hanging over him, mocking him. He carefully released his anger into the Force, more determined than ever not to turn. He reached out with the Force, feeling for his father’s presence, and said quietly, Don’t worry, Father. I won’t turn. I swear it.

Vader was too exhausted to respond, but the rush of relief and pride was palpable. Luke smiled through his anxiety. Would they make it in time? Would Palpatine truly wait to kill his former apprentice until Luke was there?

Remembering Yoda’s advice to focus on the present, Luke took several deep, slow breaths. He would need his strength for this.

“Are you ready?”

Luke looked up to see Han at the entrance of the cockpit. “As ready as I will be,” he said tightly. He stood up and shut his eyes tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Emperor,” Luke managed through gritted teeth. “He’s looking for me. I’m having to concentrate really hard on my shields.”

“Shields?” Han asked curiously.

“More magic,” said Luke wryly once he opened his eyes. “You don’t need them. You’re what people call a blind spot in the Force.”

“Thanks,” Han replied dryly. “Let’s get going,” he said. “Why don’t you pilot?”

Luke nodded and slid into the pilot’s chair, using the positioning system to get closer to his father’s rarely-used palace next to the Imperial Palace. “Chewie, you’re going to have to act as though you’re drugged,” he said as he manipulated the controls of the modified shuttle. “Two stormtroopers wouldn’t be able to handle you.” The wookiee asked if Luke would be able to cloak his presence so that it wouldn’t be necessary, and Luke furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure,” he responded at last. “But the goal is to get to my father. We can’t stir up trouble before then, because we need you to get him.”

“Why is it you and I can’t?” Han asked. “You made this part of the plan without even explainin’ it.”

“Because…” Luke struggled to explain. After a minute, he pressed the ‘autopilot’ button and turned to face Han. “Hold out your hands,” he told the smuggler.

Han extended them, confused, and Luke rested his right and left hands on his. “Which one is a prosthetic?” he asked next, and Han’s eyes widened in sudden understanding.

“The right,” he said. “It’s way heavier.”

“It took a while to get used to,” Luke admitted. “Just imagine, first of all, what it would be like if most of your body was that. And then, how much you would weigh.”

“I get it,” Han said at last. “Yeah, Chewie, you can have that job,” he said to the wookiee, who rolled his eyes.

Luke took the controls again, using the Force to insure their safety. Thus far, they hadn’t needed to use clearance of any kind, which stirred up a kind of unease in him. Shouldn’t they have had some kind of obstacle?

Finally, he lowered the shuttle into the docking bay in the military base below Vader’s palace and the Imperial Palace, and immediately a squadron of stormtroopers marched forward. “Let’s do it,” said Luke weakly, snapping on the helmet to the storm trooper armor that they had changed into earlier.

Han did the same and with a wave of Luke’s hand, the battle droids activated and trained their blasters on Chewie. “They’re under strict orders, right?” Han asked nervously as he stepped forward to grab Chewie’s left arm.

“Yes,” said Luke shortly. “They won’t fire or draw lightsabers until my command, and then I’ve ordered them only to attack Royal Guards and stormtroopers.”

“Good,” said the smuggler, just as the boarding ramp extended with the hiss of hydraulics. They stepped forward.

“Halt!” The squad awaiting them said. “State number and purpose.”

“I am KF-20-01,” said Luke firmly. “We’re here to deliver this wookiee to the interrogation compound. He was captured on a rebel ship.”

“Under whose orders?” The stormtrooper said nervously. Luke did a quick mind probe and saw that the trooper was VF-67-04. 04 meant that he was a lower rank than an ’01,’ which was why Luke had chosen that number. “Admiral Piett’s,” he said firmly. “Let us pass. The drugs on this wookiee won’t last for long.”

As if in response, Chewie growled deep in his throat and yanked at his arm, but Han held on grimly. “Very well,” said the trooper quickly. “Go on. We’ll refuel the shuttle for you.”

“Good,” said Luke. “Come on, you,” he ‘snapped’ at Chewie, and grabbed his arm, marching forward.

The ten battle droids marched to their sides and behind them, obediently training their blasters on Chewie’s head. “Where are we going?” Han hissed.

Just think what you want to say, and we can communicate like this, Luke responded into Han’s head.

Behind the helmet, Han blanched, and his thoughts were easily loud enough to hear: What the hell?

Calm down, Luke advised. We can’t draw attention by speaking aloud.

All right, all right, Han said finally. Do you know where we’re going?

Yes. I can feel my father’s presence, and the Emperor’s, said Luke, with a mental shudder. There is a turbolift at the end of this corridor. We’re going to take it to the bottom level and then we’ll have to walk some more, I think, before we reach the medcenter.

“The interrogation block is comin’ up, right?” said Han aloud to Luke.

“Yes, it is,” Luke replied.

This is pretty easy, so far, Han observed. It’s deserted.

That’s what worries me, Luke said darkly. It’s the middle of a war. There should be a lot more soldiers. This means the Emperor knows we’re here. It’s a trap.

Great, Han thought sarcastically as they stepped inside the turbolift. “Come on, wookiee,” he said to Chewie to keep up pretenses. He yanked Chewie’s arm and pulled him into the lift.

Chewie roared, Can you still feel him?

Yes, Luke responded mentally, widening the projection of his thoughts to include the wookiee. Listen, Chewie, he will be attached to a respirator. You cannot forget that, otherwise he’ll die.

Chewie nodded his head as if agitated, and replied, Don’t worry, I’ll get him.

Thanks, Chewie.

The turbolift door opened and they walked forward, the growing sense of anxiety augmented as they entered another abandoned section of the base.

They marched forward down the hall, Luke noting the completely deserted rooms and interrogation chambers. He reached for the Force to calm himself and released his worries, focusing firmly on his goal. They were so close—he could feel Vader’s presence. It was weak, too weak, but that simple comfort was enough to reassure him.

“Through this door,” Luke said aloud, stopping in front of a large door. “Let’s go, wookiee.” Mentally, he added, We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. No one is in that room except for my father, but I can feel the Emperor nearby. He’s going to try and trap us.

I don’t wanna stay any longer than necessary, Han replied certainly.

The door swished open.

Luke paled behind his helmet, which he tore off. Forgetting any semblance of the plan, he rushed to the center of the room, where his father lay on a durasteel table.

Vader was unsuited and wore only a tattered body-suit that left most of his chest and his arms bare. There were scorch marks collected in the center of his chest—where the control box of the respirator was located—and on his neck and chin, where the vocoder was in the suit. Various red, blistering lines where wires had connected his body to the suit marked new injuries on the already scarred skin. The juncture points of his mechanical arms and skin were blackened and the machinery itself was melted in certain spots. At the base of his neck, several wires protruding from the skin had melted. A breath mask connected to a small portable unit lay over his mouth, and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.

“Father?” Luke asked desperately. “Father, can you hear me?”

Vader’s eyes flickered open and his eyes widened in surprise. “Luke?” he whispered hoarsely. “Luke, what”—he stopped to wait for a breath to force itself into his lungs—“are you doing here?”

“We’re here to rescue you,” Luke said. “Come on, Chewie, hurry. Don’t disconnect the breath mask.”

Chewbacca moved into view and roared encouragement to Vader, whose mouth opened in surprise. “Luke, you have to get out of here,” he said, straining to make himself heard. “Palpatine wants you to be his new apprentice! You can’t let him!”

“I won’t turn,” said Luke confidently. “Don’t worry, Father. Are you in pain?”

“Only my neck,” he responded. “I’m paralyzed everywhere else.”

Luke inhaled a sharp breath and let go of his anger at Palpatine. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m not here alone.”

“Uh… Hey, my lord,” said Han uneasily. He too had removed his helmet, and his pale, wide-eyed expression showed his discomfort.

“Solo,” Vader greeted hoarsely. “Thank you for caring for my son.”

Han shrugged uneasily. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Come on, Chewie, get him,” Luke said to the wookiee, who was busy on the other side of the table. “I feel the Emperor. He’s getting closer.”

“Don’t bother, Luke, just run,” Vader rasped. “I should’ve died a long time ago.”

“No,” Luke said firmly. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“Luke—”

“That’s enough,” Luke said sharply. “Do as I say, Father.”

Vader’s brow rose in surprise. “I see you’ve gotten insolent since we last spoke,” he wheezed.

“Not insolent,” said Luke with the barest hint of a smile that quickly turned into worry. “You ready, Chewie?”

The wookiee nodded. “What’s going on?” Vader asked questioningly, just as Chewie reached down and placed the breather on his chest, taking care to avoid the electrical burns, and picked him up.

“Let’s go,” said Luke, shedding the armor to give himself more flexibility.

“Nice robes,” Vader managed.

“Thanks,” said Luke. “I can get you some just like them.”

“We haven’t got much time,” said Han, avoiding looking at the Emperor’s former apprentice. “Come on.”

Luke led the way to the door and Vader caught his first glimpse of the battle droids and choked out a small laugh. With a wave of Luke’s hand, the door slid open.

“Ah. You arrived at last.”

Luke looked up to see the small, robed figure of the Emperor standing in front of the door, several red-robed Royal Guards behind him. Feeling anger boil up at him at the sight of the despot, he quickly rid himself of it.

“Emperor Palpatine,” he greeted coldly.

“My new apprentice,” he returned, his croak of a voice giving even Han the chills.

“I will never be your apprentice,” Luke said firmly, his voice belaying no fear. “Let us pass.”

“I think not,” said Palpatine smoothly. “Now that you are old enough, I have no need of the weak fool that is your father. You will become stronger than he ever was, stronger, perhaps, than I am, one day. Join me.”

“Never,” Luke replied coolly. “My allegiance is to the Jedi and to my father.”

“I sense the anger in you, my young apprentice,” Palpatine hissed, stepping back. “Your desire, above all else, is to strike me down.”

“No,” said Luke. “You know nothing of me.”

“Fool,” Palpatine said scathingly. “Do you truly think that you will be able to leave as quietly as you entered? I had the halls cleared, the guards under orders not to attack you, just so you could see what will happen to you if you defy me.” He gestured at Vader’s form, Chewie still carrying him gamely. “Anakin Skywalker,” he mocked. “Your noble father.”

“I would die before I join you,” Luke said. “You will not turn me as you did him.”

“Enough of this!” Han suddenly yelled. He raised his blaster and shot at one of the guards, who, surprised, didn’t dodge, and fell to the ground dead.

Immediately, the guards clustered around Palpatine and drew him back, inadvertently giving an opening for the rescue party to leave.

“GO!” Luke roared, and immediately Han and Chewie, carrying Vader, and four battle droids went forward, moving as quickly as they were able down the hall. The remaining droids filed out of the room, lightsabers lit. “Activate Code 21,” Luke said sharply and immediately the droids marched forward towards the guards.

Luke turned and sprinted down to hall, using the Force to enhance his speed. He caught up to Han and Chewie in the turbolift. “Let the droids out first,” he told Han, who nodded, pale. “Father, are you all right?” There was no response from Vader. He had passed out. Luke nervously checked his Father’s presence in the Force, and found him to be stable. He reached into a pocket and dragged out the comm device to which he was connected to Artoo and Theepio. “Artoo?” he questioned. “Start the warm-up sequences. We’ll be there soon.”

A flurry of beeps on the other end confirmed the transmission and Luke stuffed it back into the pocket. “There will be storm troopers,” he told Han. “Chewie, get my father to the ship at all costs. I can take care of myself.”

The wookiee nodded and the turbolift door slid open. Luke stepped forward grimly, the battle droids behind him.

Immediately two squadrons of stormtroopers ran forward, blasters poised to shoot. “GO!” Luke shouted, activating his lightsaber. The stormtroopers stepped back in momentary surprise and then recovered, deciding that they had him. Luke Force-jumped over to Chewie, who was running flat out towards the shuttle, and raised a hand, calling the Force to him to create a shield around the wookiee and his father that would protect them from the lasers.

His eyes widened as he saw, as if in slow motion, a blaster bolt headed squarely for Han’s temple. He waved his hand and it veered right, killing a stormtrooper instantly. The shuttle’s boarding ramp lowered and Chewie ran up into the relative safety of the vessel, leaving Han and Luke to fight the storm troopers, who had called for backup.

“Han! Go on!” Luke called to the smuggler, leaping over and quickly deflecting several blaster bolts with his lightsaber. The battle droids had activated their lightsabers as well, recognizing the close proximity, and were making quick work of the rest of the troopers.

“Not without you!” Han retorted grimly as several Royal Guards streamed in from the halls.

“We can’t get them all, Han,” Luke told his friend. “We need to get out of here.”

As Luke’s lightsaber came within an inch of his nose to block a laser, Han said, “I agree. Let’s go!”

Erecting a hasty shield to block the last few blaster shots, Luke grabbed Han’s arm and bolted for the boarding ramp, which had just started to lift. “STOP THEM!” An unnaturally loud voice, cracked and broken, roared from the room. Luke tensed as he sensed the Emperor’s clawing at his mind, trying to force him to stay. He slid into the pilot’s chair and quickly powered up, gunning the thrusters as the hangar entrance began to close.

“Hold on!” he shouted, allowing the Force to direct his hands over the controls. They made it out of the hangar just in time, and Luke immediately activated the modified engines, shooting them from the atmosphere of Coruscant. Already, government cruisers raced towards them. “We’ve got to go to Bain,” said Luke quickly. “Artoo—”

“NO!” Han said at once. “If it was a present from the Emperor, then that’s the first place he’ll look. Go back to Mustafar!” Artoo obeyed him and a second later, they disappeared into hyperspace.

Luke let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “We did it,” he said weakly.

Han nodded. “I can’t believe I’m not dead,” he muttered.

Luke bit his lip. “I’m going to go and check on him,” he said, moving to the back portion of the shuttle to see Chewie lay Vader’s unconscious form onto the medical bed. “Thanks, Chewie,” he said quietly.

The wookiee shrugged and replied that it was least he could do, seeing as Vader had let him go.

Luke moved over and reached for the ventilator that was part of the life-support system on the ship. “Do you know how to do this?” he asked the wookiee, furrowing his brow. Chewie shook his head. “I’ll have to wake him up,” Luke said unhappily. He pressed a hand to his father’s temple, and closed his eyes.

A second later, he returned to consciousness. Vader blinked for a second and then his eyes widened. “Luke?”

Luke managed a small smile. “We got away,” he said. “I need to know how to connect the life support.”

“Luke, I am going to kill you,” Vader growled. “Why did you put yourself into such needless danger? You could have been killed, or worse, made into his apprentice, whether you wanted to be or not!”

Luke waited patiently for his father to stop lecturing. “But we got away,” he reminded him once he’d stopped. “And you’re safe now. How do I do the life-support?”

“The portable breather is fine,” his father replied a second later. “What ship am I on?” he questioned after a moment, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“I think it’s called the Rescuer, which is apt,” said Luke.

“My ship?” Vader asked in some surprise. “Then there’s a 2-1B unit in the cargo hold as well as an operating chamber.”

“Really?” Luke asked, shocked. “I didn’t know that.”

“I added it, in case I was ever incapacitated for some reason,” Vader explained. “Take me down there. The 2-1B can replace the damaged vertebrae in my neck.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Luke asked doubtfully. “You don’t look so good, Father.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “It’s the prosthetics that took a beating.”

“I think you should wait,” said Luke firmly. “You’ll get medical care—proper medical care—when we get to the base.”

“The base?”

“Yeah. We’re going to the Rebel base,” said Luke, smiling slightly.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Vader asked doubtfully. “Why would they give me medical care?”

“They will,” said Luke. “Now, sleep.” He us