Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Anakin raised the hood of his cloak over his head as he stepped out of the night and into the Mos Eisley cantina.

As he scanned the patrons, Anakin idly noted that no matter what world they were located on spaceport cantinas were all the same—full of dodgy characters, strong drinks, catchy music, and periodic outbreaks of violence.  Anakin had often frequented such holes in the wall during his work as a Jedi—although currently his business was much more serious.

The occupants of a booth in the back soon caught his attention, and Anakin stealthily made his way towards them until he was close enough to catch snippets of their conversation.

“I love you,” a petite brunette said adoringly.

“I know,” replied her companion.

Anakin wanted to strangle them both, but knew they could not argue or make a scene in here.  It was far too dangerous—and pointless.

The woman’s back was to him, and she was so engrossed in the man across from her that she had not yet noticed Anakin’s approaching Force signature.  So Anakin simply walked up to her, wordlessly waved his hand to render her unconscious, and scooped her up over his shoulder.

He then turned to the smuggler who had become the bane of his existence.

“Solo, I’m not going to tell you this again—stay away from my daughter,” Anakin growled.

Han—the idiot—looked like he was about to say something, but Anakin did not give him the opportunity.

Without a second glance at Captain Solo or anyone else in the cantina, Anakin made his way outside.

He carefully deposited the sleeping Leia into the back seat of the landspeeder, before strapping the speederbike she had commandeered for her late night rendezvous to the back.  Both tasks complete, Anakin sped away into the night back towards the Lars moisture farm.

Leia came to at home and was absolutely livid.

“How dare you!” she screamed at her father.

“What else did you expect after sneaking out—again?” Anakin shot back, as they launched into their usual heated argument.

“He loves me!”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does!  And he’s running supplies for the Alliance now.”

“Leia, joining the Rebel Alliance to impress you doesn’t mean he isn’t a selfish smuggler who won’t take off the minute things get hard, he gets a more lucrative offer, or a bounty hunter shows up chasing him over some unpaid debt!”

“That’s not true!  And unlike you, Han actually cares that there’s a big galaxy out there!  You’re old, you're happy in your boring life—and you couldn’t possibly understand!”

Anakin tried to hang onto his patience—he really did—but as usual of late he failed miserably.

“Leia you are not staying involved with a nerf-herding, in hock to Jabba, scoundrel, who is thirteen years older than you, and that’s final!

“I hate it here!  I hate this farm!  I hate the sand!  And I hate YOU!” Leia shouted as she stormed away and slammed her bedroom door.

Anakin stared at the closed door, marveling that the ability to always get the last word in an argument appeared to be hereditary.  Having never gotten the final say in any of the truly spectacular fights he and Padmé had gotten into over the course of their three-year marriage, Anakin was not particularly surprised.

As he made his way to his own bedroom, Anakin was surprised to find that his wife had waited up for him.

More likely, he amended, she had gone back to sleep after Anakin had discovered Leia had snuck off in the middle of the night, and been awoken by the giant disturbance in the Force he and his daughter had caused with their latest fight.

Either way, Anakin was happy to find Ahsoka awake, sitting up in bed, and sporting a consoling expression.

As he slid into bed to sit next to her, Anakin wordlessly handed her back the blaster that Leia had borrowed to protect herself during her nighttime escapade.  Ahsoka took the weapon and returned it to its place next to her lightsabers in her nightstand drawer.

Anakin leaned his head back against the wall and sighed deeply.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with them, Ahsoka,” Anakin said wearily, “If I have to tell Luke he can’t follow his friends to the Imperial Flight Academy one more time . . .”

“Enlisting and then slipping away to join the Rebellion sounds exciting . . . and worthwhile,” Ahsoka replied.

“Yeah, but can you imagine him showing up with the last name ‘Skywalker’?  His adventure would be over real quick,” Anakin countered.

“That might indeed raise some red flags.  Even if he changed his name, his Force signature would eventually give him away,” she agreed.

“And now Leia and this scoundrel of a smuggler,” Anakin said with a scowl.  “There is literally no other scenario or version of her life were she would end up with that low life.  She’s just stuck here without any options.”

“I know you’ve made some ‘subtle inquiries’ about Captain Solo. What have you learned about him so far?” Ahsoka asked.

“Everything I need to know—he’s a brash, irresponsible pilot, who tries to talk or shoot his way out of trouble, and flashes a charming smile as he heads straight into danger to defy the odds for the millionth time,” Anakin complained.

A smirk tugged the corner of Ahsoka’s mouth.

“You do realize you’re describing yourself,” she observed.

“Not helping, Snips,” Anakin replied, as he planted his palms firmly into his eyes.

“Well girls have a tendency to grow up and marry their fathers,” Ahsoka replied.

Anakin looked up and over at his former padawan now wife with raised eyebrows.

“All I’m saying is there might be more to this situation than Leia being rebellious and you not liking Han because he’s a ‘scoundrel of a smuggler,’” she elaborated.

“I highly doubt you’re right, and that still doesn’t solve the problem at hand,” Anakin retorted.

“Oh Anakin, the twins are just built for bigger things than life in the backwater of the Outer Rim,” Ahsoka said, as she put a comforting hand on his forearm.

“And if the galaxy wasn’t in the middle of tearing itself apart in a civil war with Palpatine ready to swoop in and snatch them, I would try and do something about that—but it’s not safe out there,” Anakin said, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together.

“We’ll figure something out,” Ahsoka said reassuringly.

She leaned over and kissed him in a way that promised to take his mind off the problem of his oldest children for at least a little while, and Anakin finally let the matter drop for the night.

He awoke, however, to find that Leia had run off again.

And had disabled the landspeeders, the remaining speederbikes, and everything else on the farm that could possibly be used as a transport.

And had taken the parts with her.

Anakin was enraged—in no small part because she had thought of doing that before he had.

In the end it took him two hours to get one of the bikes up and running.

He arrived in Mos Eisley to discover the Millennium Falcon was nowhere to be found in the spaceport, and that two hours was all Leia had needed.

Although his daughter had been stolen, by some miracle of the Force the family’s speederbike and all the parts for the farm’s other transports had not been.

It even still had her note attached.

Dad,

Han and I got married, and I’m leaving.  Don’t try and stop me.

~Leia

On the one hand Anakin was glad she had bothered to get married instead of just running off.  On the other, he knew it was Leia’s way of adding an extra layer of finality to her decision.

With Ahsoka’s words from just a few hours ago ringing in his ears, Anakin fumed all the way back to the homestead.

Upon his arrival he passed by the family’s small cemetery.  Briefly turning his head as he strode past Padmé’s headstone, Anakin declared, “Your daughter has eloped with an absolute scoundrel of a smuggler!”

In response he got the impression of a raised eyebrow and a “What? Not a Jedi forbidden romantic attachments?”

It was another reminder Anakin did not need that he really should have seen this coming.

As Anakin marched into his room and yanked a supply chest from under the bed, he recalled that Han Solo was full of boasts about his ship—a ship that Anakin thought looked like a piece of junk—which included an outrageous claim that it had made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs.  As once the best pilot in the galaxy—likely still the best pilot in the galaxy—Anakin knew full well that no ship had made it in less than eighteen.

No matter how fast the younger man’s ship was or wasn’t, however, Anakin was not planning on trying to out run Captain Solo . . . especially when he could easily outsmart him.

He emerged from the chest with the receiver for the homing beacon he had long ago hidden aboard the Falcon—back before he had given up trying to keep a closer eye on Leia when the ship and its cocky pilot were in town.

The homing beacon of which Captain Solo was still blissfully ignorant . . .

Receiver in hand, Anakin walked into the common area to find the rest of his family clamoring over the letter Leia had left for them.

“Anakin!” Ahsoka cried over everyone else’s shouting, as she walked closer to show him the letter.

It was a much nicer letter than the one Leia had left on the speederbike—and was also specifically not addressed to him.  As her father, Anakin was somewhat relieved that she was not so self-absorbed to be insensitive to the impact her abrupt departure would have on her step-mother and siblings.

“I know . . . I’m going after her,” Anakin told Ahsoka as he flashed her a look at the homing beacon receiver, before adding, “Would you mind packing me some gear while I go get the ship?”

Anakin had carefully hidden the ship they had arrived on Tatooine in all those years ago in a cave.  Although it had not been flown in decades, it had been diligently maintained in case of emergency.  Anakin had fervently hoped he would never need to use it.

As the sublight engines roared to life and he brought the ship down near the homestead, however, Anakin had to admit that he had sorely missed flying.

While Ahsoka and the rest of the Skywalker clan started loading supplies, Anakin bid Owen, Beru, and their children a hasty goodbye.

That task completed, Anakin returned to the ship and surveyed his family.

From the back Obi-Wan stepped forward, and before he opened his mouth, Anakin already knew his mentor would insist on accompanying him.  Obi-Wan, however, had slowed down a bit over the last few years, and the younger man sensed that Obi-Wan’s offer would be spurred on by anxiety for his former padawan’s safety and not a genuine desire to go traipsing around the galaxy.

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan started.

“No Obi-Wan, you’re getting too old for this sort of thing. Artoo and I can handle it,” Anakin said.  Seeing Obi-Wan was relieved but also still worried he added, “Besides, I’m just going to get Leia and I’ll be right back.”

“Master Anakin, will you be needing me to accompany you?” Threepio asked nervously.

“And listen to you complain about how much you hate space travel the entire time—I don’t think so.  You’re staying here,” Anakin told the droid.

For not actually being able to change his facial expression, Threepio still managed to look relieved . . . until he turned to Artoo for his customary lecture on how his counterpart needed to take care of himself and come back in one piece.

“Can I come?” Luke asked next.

“No,” Anakin quickly replied, having no desire whatsoever to deal with both of the twins being off Tatooine at the same time.

“Why not?!” Luke whined.

“Given that you will not listen to or accept any of the rational answers I can come up with we’re going to go with ‘Because I said so,’” Anakin responded emphatically.

It was not the answer Luke wanted to hear, and he stormed off to sulk without another word.

Anakin sighed and turned to the rest of his children.

Unlike their moody half-brother, his two youngest rushed forward and flung their arms around their father.  Plo was ten, and his lekku were starting to get noticeably longer.  At six, Shaak’s were still short and her montral barely had horns.

Anakin returned their embrace, before picking them both up and spinning them around as they shrieked with delight.  He released them after kissing each on the top of their head, and they moved back to let their older brother take his turn.

Rex was thirteen, and after hitting a recent growth spurt was now taller than Ahsoka.  His long hair—as blue and white as ever—was currently tied back in a ponytail.  Anakin embraced him, and as they parted he caressed the side of his son’s head and said, “Take care of your mother.”

“Will do, Dad,” Rex replied.

Taking one of his sibling’s hands in each of his, Rex flashed his father a final smile before heading back to the homestead to give his parents a moment alone.

Obi-Wan lingered a moment longer, and put his hand on his former padawan’s shoulder.

“Anakin . . .” Obi-Wan said, his voice full of emotion.

“I’ll be alright,” Anakin promised, clasping Obi-Wan’s hand with his own.

With a final squeeze Obi-Wan released him, and walking past the two droids who were still engrossed in bickering like an old married couple, he returned inside and left the pair alone.

For a long moment Anakin and Ahsoka silently looked at each other.

“I’ll be right back,” Anakin said again.

“I know,” Ahsoka replied.

Both of them were well aware, however, there was a strong likelihood that that would end up not being true.

Before Tatooine, drama and adventure had a way of following Anakin Skywalker around like a cloud—and Ahsoka especially had a strong suspicion that had not changed.

Reaching behind, she unclipped her lightsabers from her belt.  Lifting one of his hands with her own, she set them in his palm.

“Ahsoka . . .” Anakin started.

“Take them,” she said, “Leia’s actually getting pretty good.”

Anakin was just opening his mouth to ask her to come, when she put a silencing hand on his chest.

“Anakin, you need some time to work things out with your kids,” she told him.

She was right of course.  Somehow, she was always right.

So instead he took hold of her arm and drew her into an embrace.  Wrapping his own arms around her, Anakin gave his wife a long lingering kiss.

He did not know how long it would have to last him until he was home again.

After they reluctantly parted, Ahsoka stood next to Threepio as they watched Anakin and Artoo head up the gangplank and the ship take off towards deep space.

Ahsoka shared all of Obi-Wan’s anxiety, and a large part of her wanted to go with him and watch his back.  Another part knew, however, that he and the twins really did need a chance to work on their relationship.

Which was why when she saw Luke sneaking on board while his father was distracted . . . Ahsoka had decided not to mention it.

Chapter Text

As the ship cleared Tatooine’s atmosphere, Anakin was engrossed in tracking the Falcon while making his initial navigational calculations—and not being completely consumed with his rage towards his daughter and now son-in-law.  It was, therefore, not until after he had made the jump to lightspeed that he noticed something was amiss in the Force.

“Did you know about this?” he asked Artoo accusingly.

The droid just innocently swiveled his domed head away from Anakin, and beeped that he needed to check on something in the back of the ship as he rolled out of the cockpit.

Despite the droid’s non-answer, to Anakin it was clear that Artoo was of the same opinion as Ahsoka.

Ahsoka who had told him he needed to work things out with his kids.

Kids . . . plural.

“You can come out now, Luke,” Anakin called.

“Are we too far away for you to take me back yet?” Luke’s muffled voice asked.

“Yes,” his father answered.

Taking a cleansing breath as he ran a hand over his face, Anakin reflected that he was having a pretty off day.

Because he really should have seen this one coming too.

Luke emerged from a nearby supply closet, and Anakin indicated for him to have a seat in the copilot’s chair.

As annoyed as he was, Anakin could not help but enjoy the wonder on his son’s face as Luke gazed out at the lines of hyperspace for the first time.

“I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do with you and your sister, Luke. But since I’ve been dying to teach you more about flying for years we might as well start now,” Anakin said.

“Really?!” Luke said excitedly before adding with a note of sadness, “I thought you didn’t want me to go to the Flight Academy because you thought I couldn’t do it.”

Anakin’s gaze snapped to Luke’s face, and a sense of horror filled his heart that his poor communication had caused his son to suffer such a thought.

“No, Luke. That was never the reason,” Anakin said, forcefully correcting his son’s misconception, “Between your natural talent and your strength in the Force, I think you could be an outstanding starfighter pilot right now, without ever setting foot in the Academy.”

“Then why were you always so against letting me go?” Luke asked his father.

Anakin took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

Luke was remarkably strong in the Force, and as Anakin had noted he would make an exceptional pilot.

At the same time he was also a pretty naïve, overly optimistic farm boy, and the galaxy was going to disillusioningly chew him up and spit him out.

That had definitely been the case for Anakin when he left home, and it was with a heavy heart that father accepted there was nothing he could do to spare his son that fate.

Desperately wanting to keep his family safe and shelter them from danger, Anakin realized in hindsight that he had still never meant to raise such . . . well . . . sheltered children.  Beyond that, even through the lens of his overprotectiveness, Anakin knew his son was old enough to know the truth . . . at least some of the basics anyway.

“Luke, I know you don’t realize this because our entire family and Obi-Wan are strong in the Force, but being Force sensitive is actually extremely rare,” he began.

“It means we can do some remarkably special things.  And at the same time, there are bad people in the galaxy who want to exploit our gift for their own evil purposes.  So being Force sensitive also puts a huge target on our backs. The Empire is led by those kind of people, which is why we’ve been hiding on Tatooine for so many years—and why you couldn’t go to the Flight Academy,” Anakin concluded.

Luke did not have an immediate response as he made the mental shift from believing his father thought he was incompetent . . . to a new awareness that evil people were hunting him because of his Force gift.

Anakin left his son to his thoughts as he did another check on the Falcon’s current location.

The last time the homing beacon had placed the ship near the fourth moon of the gas giant Yavin, and Anakin was more than a little surprised to see that the Falcon was still there.

For quite a few seconds he wondered why in the galaxy anyone would hang around Yavin IV longer than to do a simple nav check, when it suddenly hit him.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, Anakin certainly hoped Captain Solo was as good a smuggler as he bragged—and from the “subtle inquiries” Anakin had made it seemed like he might actually be—because he apparently was also a massive security risk for the Rebellion.

Anakin also begrudgingly noted that the smuggler had worked his way up the ranks rather quickly to be allowed onto the base.

With no need to drop out of hyperspace and change course, the ship and its occupants continued on towards Yavin.  Anakin gave Luke a crash course in spaceflight, and noted that his son was a very quick study.

Finally, the hyperdrive pinged to signal their arrival, and Anakin let Luke disengage it and drop them out of hyperspace.

“Wow,” Luke said in an awed voice as the sight of the small green and blue moon hanging below the huge orange gas giant suddenly filled the viewport.

Anakin smiled as he switched over to the sublight engines and flew on towards Yavin IV.

Even with the knowledge that the Falcon was on the moon, a planet was still a very large place to search for a secret Rebel base.  Fortunately, in the course of his vast travels as a Jedi Anakin had actually been to Yavin IV before and knew the ancient Massassi Temple was the best place to start looking.  As he approached the massive stone structures his trusty homing beacon validated his guess.

The Alliance had likely been aware of the ship’s presence from the moment it dropped out of hyperspace, but since it was a secret base the Rebels waited until the ship was right on top of them to demand an ID check.

“Unknown cargo ship, identify yourself!” a voice suddenly crackled over the com.

Anakin was absolutely not broadcasting his name or any other identifying information over an open com, and made up a cover story on the spot.

Unsurprisingly the Rebels did not accept his vague answer, likely assuming he was either an Imperial spy or more probably a bounty hunter after Han . . . and abruptly shot the ship out of the sky.

Anakin had expected this turn of events and remained unfazed. His son, however, didn’t know that.

“WE’RE GOING TO DIE!” Luke cried.

“Relax Luke.  We’re not going to die,” Anakin attempted to sooth his son from his melodramatic meltdown, “Mom and I have had to crash land more ships than I can remember.”

If Ahsoka had been there, Anakin knew, she would be quick to protest Anakin’s phrasing, and emphatically state that she bore no responsibility for the aforementioned crashes.  She would unequivocally specify that her involvement had been limited to merely being along for the ride and offering insightful comments like, “How come every time you fly, we crash?!” to which Anakin would defensively reply, “It’s not my fault, it’s the ship!” which only elicited her typical response, “You always blame the ship!”

Ahsoka was not present to offer such points of clarification, however, and Anakin did not bother to elaborate.

Artoo, however, did let out an electronic snort on her behalf.

Anakin was pleased to note that although it had been a while, he had not lost his touch for crash landings.  He managed to bring the ship down relatively close to the base, and was hoping they could vacate it before Rebel forces arrived.

Unfortunately, someone in the Alliance was very organized, and Anakin exited the ship to a barrage of blaster fire.

“Luke, stay back!” he shouted as he ignited his lightsaber.

Careful to deflect the shots away from the Rebels even as he defended himself, Anakin wracked his brain for what to do next.

He was just admitting to himself that he was at a loss for how to defuse the situation without bloodshed, when an authoritative voice suddenly cut over the noise of battle.

“Cease fire! Cease fire! Stand down!” the voice commanded.

The blaster bolts stopped, but tension hung thick in the air and Anakin did not extinguish his lightsaber.

“General Skywalker, is that you?” the voice suddenly addressed him.

Anakin froze in complete shock.

“Rex?!” he replied in disbelief.

“Lieutenant, give the all clear! You five, get a camo net thrown over that ship! The rest of you lads return to base!” Rex barked out orders with his customary efficiency.

It never ceased to amaze Anakin that the vast galaxy could still be such a small place.  Beyond that, whether Clone Trooper or a motley crew of males and females of different species from numerous homeworlds, there was something comforting about anyone under Rex’s command still being a ‘lad.’

“You can come out Luke and Artoo,” Anakin called into the ship.

The side of Anakin’s mouth tugged into a smirk as he watched his former commander walk towards him.

Rex was still bald, but was now sporting a white beard . . . and a wide smile.

“General,” Rex said in greeting, “You got old.”

“Had to happen sometime, Rex,” Anakin replied.

Grinning, the two men clasped forearms before pulling each other into a brotherly embrace.

“I’m glad you’re still alive,” Anakin told the Clone.

“You too,” Rex said.

The other occupants of the ship had by that point made their way outside.

Rex winked at Artoo, who beeped back a greeting.

Luke had walked over to stand by his father.  Putting a hand on his son’s shoulder, Anakin took a deep breath and launched into what would be an awkward conversation.

“Rex, Senator Amidala and I were actually married.  We had twins, and this is my son, Luke,” Anakin introduced him.

“Luke, Rex was the commander of my unit during the Clone Wars,” Anakin finished his introduction.

“You fought in the Clone Wars?!” Luke exclaimed.

He was visibly confused and looking at his father like he didn’t know him—which in a sense he didn’t.

“Yes,” Anakin told Luke, “And I will tell you about it later.”

Rex raised his eyebrows at Anakin, but offered no further comment, and Anakin promptly changed the subject.

“We’re actually here looking for my daughter, Leia. She flew in a little while ago,” Anakin told Rex.

“Then let me escort you back to base, sir,” Rex said.

As they all began walking he continued, “So Senator Amidala made it then?”

“Yes and no, Rex,” Anakin said sadly, “She died in childbirth.”

“I’m sorry to hear of your loss, sir. There’s been so many over the years. And so many, like you, that I never knew one way or the other. I always wish I knew what happened to Commander Tano,” Rex said with a note of sorrow in his voice.

Anakin could kick himself for not telling Rex immediately.

“She’s alright! She found me and Obi-Wan about three years after the Purge, and we’ve been together ever since!” Anakin said excitedly.

“That’s truly wonderful to hear!” Rex said with a huge grin.

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck briefly as he suddenly realized how even more awkward this sounded coming out all at once—but for Rex he plowed on.

“We actually got married. Our oldest son together is named Rex,” Anakin told the Clone.

“I’m deeply honored,” Rex said, before adding, “At the same time I have to say, sir, that’s a lot of getting married and settling down.  With as much as you loved adventure and excitement, I wouldn’t have guessed you had it in you.”

“Yeah well . . .” Anakin replied, not really knowing how to respond to Rex’s rather accurate assessment.

Former General and Clone commander lapsed into companionable silence as the group plodded along through the forest.

Luke was slightly awed and still very confused by all the “Generals,” “Sirs,” and automatic respect being directed towards his father, and uncharacteristically asked no more questions.

Rex finally spoke.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you find us?” Rex asked tentatively.

“I put a homing beacon on the Millennium Falcon when Han Solo started hanging around my daughter,” Anakin bluntly told him.

“Well, that’s alright then,” Rex laughed, relieved that they did not have to evacuate the entire base due to their location being compromised.

“Hardly,” Anakin muttered under his breath.

They reached the base, and Anakin saw the Alliance had indeed moved into the ancient stone temple.

As the small group entered the very busy main hangar, Luke went off in search of his friends from Tatooine—having no interest in watching the latest argument between his father and sister.

Anakin, however, made a beeline for the Falcon, with Rex and Artoo in tow.

As they neared the ship that still strongly resembled a piece of junk, Anakin caught sight of the pair he was pursuing.

In the partial cover of the ship’s shadow Leia was leaned up against one of the landing gears, passionately kissing her new husband.

“Solo!” Anakin barked.

The eloping lovebirds sprang apart.

“Dad?!” Leia squeaked.

Anakin would have seriously considered strangling Han with his bare hands if he was not perfectly aware that all of this was not the smuggler’s idea.

“How did you even find us?” Han asked incredulously, and in a tone of voice that made Anakin consider strangling him anyway.

In answer, Anakin gloatingly held up the homing beacon receiver.

“You tracked my ship?!” Han was incensed.

“I told you we got away too easily!” Leia chided him.

“Where did you put it?” Han demanded.

“I have not the slightest intention of telling you that,” Anakin replied.

“Chewie!” Han bellowed up into his precious ship, “There’s a homing beacon on board.  We need to find it now!”

While Han fretted, Leia stepped forward towards her father with her hands on her hips.  She opened her mouth to protest the indignity of her father pursuing them, but Anakin beat her to the punch.

“I don’t know how you two thought you could possibly get away with this!” yelled the former Jedi, who had married against the Code and kept it a secret for three years.

“Solo, you have messed with the wrong man’s daughter!” Anakin shouted over his petite daughter’s shoulder, before turning back to her.

“And you are coming home where it’s safe right now!” Anakin said in a tone that would brook no argument with anyone except Leia.

“No! I’m never going back!” Leia exclaimed.

“You have no idea how much danger you are putting yourself and everyone else in by coming here, Leia-”

Anakin was in the middle of yelling at the pair when a hush fell over the large chamber.

Rex, who had been previously standing by and enjoying the show, now stood at stiff attention and cleared his throat.

Anakin looked up to see that Mon Mothma had entered the hangar.

“Anakin Skywalker?” she asked, her tone full of hopeful disbelief.

Her voice was not loud, but in the quiet it felt like she was shouting.  Quite a few heads snapped in his direction much to Anakin’s chagrin.

So much for getting in and out quietly.

One of the heads was Han’s.

“You didn’t tell me your father was Anakin Skywalker,” he said to Leia.

“You’ve heard of him before?” Leia asked incredulously.

“He was a Jedi General in the Clone Wars, and used to be the best pilot in the galaxy—way back in the day,” Han said.

Anakin could not stop himself from bristling with resentment at Han’s “used to be” and “way back in the day.”

Leia remained silent—clearly struggling to process all this new information, and adjust to the leader of the Rebel Alliance looking at her extremely uncool father like he was amazing.

“What, you think I didn’t have a life before you came along?” Anakin asked her.

“No, not really—and I certainly didn’t think you were actually important,” Leia replied.

Before walking towards the Falcon, Mon Mothma addressed the Rebels.

“Please, return to your work,” Mon Mothma announced to the hangar, and ambient noise that could cover a conversation from all but the nearest bystanders once again filled the large chamber.

From the way Mon Mothma greeted him warmly and shook his hand like it was a lifeline, Anakin could tell she did not know about Darth Vader.

“Commander Rex you already know,” Anakin said, and the Senator and the Clone Commander exchanged respectful nods.

Anakin then turned to Leia and again launched into his awkward revelation.

“So Padmé and I were actually married, and before she died we had twins.  This is my daughter Leia,” Anakin said before continuing his introductions.

Introductions that deliberately did not include Han.

“Leia, this is Senator Mon Mothma,” Anakin told her.

With the poise of a professional politician, Mon Mothma graciously glossed over the scandalous news that her close friend and ally had been secretly married to a Jedi.

She likely, Anakin knew, had much bigger problems on her hands.

“My dear, you are the spitting image of your mother,” Mon Mothma declared, as she stepped forward to clasp Leia’s hand.

“You knew my mother?!” Leia asked in a tone of great longing that broke Anakin’s heart.

“She was one of my dearest friends and collaborators. It is an honor to meet the daughter of Senator Padmé Amidala,” Mon Mothma said.

“Will you please tell me about her?” Leia asked, as tears sprang to her eyes.

“It would be my great pleasure,” the Senator replied, before adding, “I just need a quick word with your father . . .”

As Mon Mothma grabbed his elbow in a vice grip and guided him towards a more secluded part of the hangar, Anakin had a bad feeling about where this conversation was heading.

Although he could see the words coming several lightyears away before they actually left Mon Mothma’s mouth, they still sent his stomach dropping like a stone.

“Anakin, I need your help.”

Chapter Text

“Anakin, I need your help,” Mon Mothma said.

Anakin’s throat went dry.

“There are rumors that the Emperor is making a weapon powerful enough to destroy entire planets,” she continued.

Of course he was.

“We have a team trying to find the Imperial weapons developer—a man named Galen Erso—who is designing it but who apparently wants to defect.  And if it’s true . . .” Mon Mothma said before briefly closing her eyes.

“Bail and I decided we needed more help, and he went to try and find Master Yoda on Dagobah.  But I’ve had no contact with him since then, and I fear his ship may have been disabled,” Mon Mothma continued.

Anakin could finally see where she was going with this, but tried to sidestep it for as long as possible.

“He went himself?” Anakin asked of the Rebellion leader who was vital to the cause.

“There was no one else to send,” Mon Mothma stated simply.

“Dagobah is a swamp planet.  Even if I tried to send our best pilots, their instruments would have no hope of locating Bail . . .” she finished.

Anakin had initially thought the leader of the Rebel Alliance wanted him to sneak in somewhere and find a copy of the weapon’s schematics or something equally as crazy.

But no, she wanted him to use the Force to find Senator Bail Organa who had gotten stuck in the swamp on Dagobah . . . while looking for Master Yoda.

Master Yoda, who had told Anakin he shouldn’t care if his wife died.

Master Yoda, who was the Jedi Grandmaster and leader of the Order that Anakin had helped Palpatine destroy.

Master Yoda, who had resultantly sent Obi-Wan to kill Anakin—although Obi-Wan had fortunately made a different choice.

If there was one person Anakin hoped he would never ever see again it was Palpatine.

Master Yoda, however, was a surprisingly close second, and Anakin’s initial reaction to the idea of going out looking for him was a rather violent ‘no.’

The former Jedi General opened his mouth to unequivocally decline Mon Mothma’s request . . . but never quite got the chance.

“SENATOR!” a mustached man ran up to them, “The strike force has returned from Eadu!”

Giving Anakin a last glance—for now—Mon Mothma headed towards the hangar entrance.

Anakin waited a few seconds to allow for a separation between the two of them, and then followed the large crowd that was rushing forward.

While the grounds crew’s attention was on servicing the X-wing squadron that had just touched down, the Rebellion brass approached a cargo ship.  It was sufficiently different in design to anything else he had seen so far on the base that Anakin suspected it was a stolen Imperial vessel.

Swinging around the large group, Anakin came to stand near one of the ship’s landing gears, where he had a reasonably good view of at least the backs of the occupants as they headed down the gangplank.

First out was a burly man with the most impressive automatic blaster Anakin had ever seen.  He was assisting another man in a way that indicated his companion was blind.

In spite of being physically sightless, however, the second man was dressed in the garb of a Force sensitive Guardian of the Whills, who Anakin vaguely remembered learning about.  As he turned his milky eyes towards Anakin and smiled, Anakin nodded back and knew that whoever this man was in many ways he could see just fine.

Next out was a medium height, medium build man with a massive droid lumbering along behind him.

Anakin’s attention—along with everyone else’s—was quickly drawn, however, to a petite brunette who marched down the gangplank, straight up to a senior Rebellion officer, whom Anakin privately thought looked like a prick, and soundly decked him.

She then proceeded to tackle him to the ground.

“Draven, you bastard!” she screamed.

For a moment everyone was stunned into inaction.  The nondescript man was the first to react.

“Jyn, no!” he cried as he made an attempt to pull her off.

By this point in his life, Anakin knew all too well that hell had no fury like an angry petite brunette.  And this one appeared to have combat training.

It was unclear to Anakin—who had no intention of offering to assist—just how many people it would take to pull ‘Jyn’ off ‘Draven,’ when a voice from inside the shuttle finally settled the matter.

“Stardust—Stop!”

To the crowd’s collective surprise, she did.

Assisted by a wiry man with odd-looking goggles on his forehead, an older man slowly made his way down the gangplank.  From his military uniform, Anakin guessed this was the defecting weapons designer of whom Mon Mothma had spoken.

The pair made it to the foot of the ramp before the older man abruptly collapsed.

“Papa!” Jyn cried, and leaving Draven to lick his wounds rushed toward her father.

Anakin, however, was close enough to step in and catch the defecting Imperial before he hit the ground.

“Where’s the med bay?!” cried the wiry man, who appeared to be some sort of pilot.

Galen Erso was injured but still conscious, and Anakin and the pilot quickly helped navigate him in the indicated direction.

In this Anakin was happy to help . . . and if it happened to get him out of the hangar without having to talk to Mon Mothma again, Anakin was not going to complain.

The Rebellion medics made quick work of stabilizing Galen, and Anakin’s chest was flooded with a feeling of intense jealousy at the sight of the other man comfortingly holding his daughter.  Finally, however, Galen insisted that Jyn let the medics check her out too and asked the pilot ‘Bodhi’ to help her to a nearby cot.

Anakin again stepped forward to assist as the medics began applying bacta patches to the defecting Imperial’s wounds.

“You’re blessed to be so close to your daughter,” Anakin commented, with more than a small note of longing in his voice.

Galen looked up at him, and Anakin saw for the first time that his face was more deeply careworn than was due to his present injuries.

“I was enslaved as a tool in the Imperial war machine and forced to build a super weapon.  I managed to escape once and hide my family on a farm in the Outer Rim—but the Empire found us.  They murdered my wife right in front of me, and today is the first day I’ve seen my daughter since she was a little girl,” he replied with a haunted look in his eyes.

“I assure you, there is nothing about my life to envy.”

Galen’s tragic tale struck a deep nerve in Anakin.  The former Jedi briefly turned Sith Lord had narrowly missed a life of being the Emperor’s massively destructive super weapon, and had managed to hide his family on a farm in the Outer Rim—including the daughter he would have never known about if he’d remained Darth Vader.

Soon the medics were done.

What the defecting Imperial really needed was a dip in a bacta tank, but that would have to wait until after the emergency Council meeting the Rebel Alliance had just called.  With Jyn and Anakin’s help, Galen made his way slowly towards the base’s command center to address the leaders currently awaiting his testimony.

“We call it the Death Star,” Galen began.

The more Galen spoke about his creation—a weapon that used the power of kyber crystals, which the Imperials had looted from Jedi Temples, to generate enough destructive power to destroy an entire planet—the more Anakin thought it was appropriately named.

As terrible as the news was, however, Anakin knew it could have been a lot worse.

Firstly, Galen had duped his Imperial captors, and under the cover of a broken man lost in his work had designed a flaw in the Death Star.  A single direct blast to the reactor module would cause the entire superweapon to explode.

Secondly, the Rebellion had managed to rescue Galen Erso.  The weapons designer could now just tell them exactly where to hit the Death Star, and spare the Rebels the trouble of having to infiltrate an Imperial facility, steal a copy of the plans, and somehow get out again.

That, Anakin knew, would have gotten very messy indeed.

For a moment a heavy silence filled the chamber as Galen finished speaking. Then the Rebels quickly descended into the kind of chaotic and unproductive debates Anakin had come to expect from a collective governing body.

The first reaction was utter panic and a knee jerk appeasement plan that was completely irrational.

“We must scatter the fleet. We have no recourse but to surrender!” one Senator cried.

“We joined an Alliance, not a suicide pact!” another seconded.

“We can’t just give in!” a Mon Calamari wearing the rank of an admiral countered.

“If it’s war you want, you’ll fight alone!” the first senator replied, ignoring the fact that they were already in the middle of a war.

And with that opening, Anakin watched the group predictably move on to denial.

“A Death Star, this is nonsense,” a new senator chimed in, “You’re asking us to risk everything, based on what? The word of an Imperial scientist?”

“What reason would my father have to lie? What benefit would it bring him?” Jyn snapped.

“To lure our forces into a final battle. To destroy us once and for all!” Draven countered.

The senior officer glared at the author of the shiner he was now sporting, and Jyn glared straight back at him.  Anakin could only guess—but was pretty sure he was right—that Draven had quietly ordered that Galen be killed instead of rescued to remove him from the Imperial’s development team.

Jyn opened her mouth to defend her father, but the nondescript man—‘Captain Andor’—beat her to the punch.

“The Death Star is real. It’s operational. And I saw with my own eyes on Jedha what this thing can do,” he said, looking at the disbelieving senator before continuing, “And this brave man has risked his life to give us a chance to defeat it.”

From his vantage point, Anakin could see Jyn’s face, and read in her expression that she had had to fight all her battles on her own and was not used to anyone sticking up for her or her family.

“We’re already at war,” Captain Andor continued, “Most of us have been in this fight for decades. And are we seriously considering begging the Emperor for mercy? We give way to an enemy this powerful and evil, and we condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission. We need to keep fighting!”

Several people opened their mouths to argue, but Mon Mothma deftly moved to end the argument before the Rebel Alliance could fragment any further.

“What we need now is more information. This Council will adjourn and reconvene again when we have it.”

A cacophony of grumbling and murmuring erupted as the meeting broke up.

Mon Mothma herself did not move.  She stood gripping the edge of the round tactical display, her head slightly bowed and looking down at nothing while lost in thought.

Anakin knew that the request for more information had merely been a stall tactic.  Mon Mothma did not have the luxury of wallowing in either panic or denial.  The Death Star was real—but by some miracle of the Force the Rebellion now knew how to destroy it.

The real question was how to find the super weapon, because—of course—it could travel through hyperspace and pop up literally anywhere.

Actually, Anakin could see that Mon Mothma was well aware it was more a question of when rather than where.  Unless Palpatine happened to be madder at her Alderaanian counterpart or somehow managed to locate the Rebel base—the Senator from Chandrila knew exactly what planet would be the first official victim of the Emperor’s new weapon of mass destruction.

Galen Erso had handed her a way to save her homeworld, the question now was if she could hold the Rebel Alliance together long enough to take a stand.

And for that, Anakin knew, what she really needed was Bail Organa back at her side.

As far as Anakin was aware, Mon Mothma was not Force sensitive.  This did not stop her from raising her eyes to him at the exact moment that thought went through his head, and she pinned him in place with the intensity of her gaze.

Soon Anakin found himself in a deserted hallway where Mon Mothma quickly resumed their earlier conversation right where she had left off.

Long in Padmé’s shadow during their time together in the Republic Senate, Mon Mothma was, nonetheless, cut from the same persuasive cloth.  Furthermore, spending nearly two decades talking beings into standing up to the Emperor was track record enough that she was not someone to whom it was easy to say ‘no.’

“Anakin, Padmé trusted you—more than I knew-” she started.

The former Jedi made a mental note never to play Sabacc with Mon Mothma, before amending that he kind of already was.  And in invoking the memory of his dead wife as part of her plea, she had just played a Full Sabacc.

Anakin opened his mouth to say ‘no’ anyway—he absolutely needed to go home and stay out of this—but all that came out was-

“I’ll need a ship, and a way to get back in touch with you securely that doesn’t involve having to come all the way back here.”

As he listed off the things he would need as part of accepting the mission—including one small item he added almost as an afterthought—Mon Mothma smiled, and Anakin felt her genuine relief wash over him.

“Come with me,” she said.

She led Anakin back to the main hangar, where Captain Andor was doing maintenance on a U-wing starfighter with the assistance of the lumbering droid.  The other pilot quickly stood and moved to wipe his hands as he saw Mon Mothma approaching.

“Anakin, this is Captain Cassian Andor, Rebel Intelligence,” Mon Mothma said.

“Captain Andor this is Anakin Skywalker, a former Jedi General and a close ally from before the fall of the Republic,” she concluded her introductions.

“Anakin has agreed to help locate Senator Organa-” Mon Mothma continued, and Captain Andor stood up straighter in anticipation of her request for him to assist, “-and while I need you here, I was hoping you would allow him to borrow your droid.”

Captain Andor froze, and Anakin was treated to the awkward sight of a bulky seven-foot-tall droid trying to crouch down and hide behind a medium height, medium build man.

Anakin could tell that Mon Mothma didn’t really know what she was asking—anymore than when she’d asked Anakin to go on a mission that could lead him to again cross paths with Master Yoda.

Most droids were . . . well droids.

But the really special ones were so much more than that, and Anakin knew well from experience that they tended to be highly bonded and loyal to their personal organics.

Captain Andor was looking at Mon Mothma like she’d just asked him to loan Anakin both of his arms.  Anakin understood, as it would be the same for him if someone asked to borrow Artoo or Threepio—although why anyone would want to borrow Threepio, Anakin had no idea.

But as with her request to Anakin, it made a difference that she was the one asking, and for a hard-core Rebel there was really only one answer.

“Of course, Senator,” Captain Andor replied.

“Thank you, Cassian,” Mon Mothma said with a relieved smile, before she turned to Anakin and said, “I’ll go make arrangements for a ship.”

She headed off to a different part of the hangar, leaving Anakin to watch the awkward scene that developed the moment Mon Mothma was out of earshot.

“You’re letting a stranger borrow me?!” the droid shrieked accusingly.

“Kay, calm down. Please.” Captain Andor tried to assuage the incensed droid, “Mon Mothma herself is asking us to do this. It’s an important mission for the Rebellion!”

The droid, however, refused to be consoled.

“Why can’t she ask to borrow someone else for the Rebellion?!”

Anakin walked away to give the two a minute.

No one else was going to say ‘no’ to Mon Mothma, and soon everything was set, and Anakin went in search of his kids to explain the situation.

The twins were quite close, and Anakin found them standing near the Falcon discussing that the Alliance was apparently running dangerously low on Tibanna gas, and would need to get more to make an assault attempt on the Death Star. Artoo stood nearby and occasionally chimed in to their conversation.

Han was nowhere to be seen, and was likely off with his Wookiee copilot reapplying the bonding tape that was holding his ship together.

Brother and sister looked up as they sensed him approaching. Leia gave him what Anakin had come to think of as her ‘death glare,’ to indicate she was currently not speaking to him.

Luke, however, quickly took the opportunity to launch into his father.

“Can I please stay and fly for the Rebellion?!” he begged.

Anakin sighed.

“Yes, you can fly for the Rebellion,” Anakin said with resignation, before turning to Artoo, “And you’re in charge of keeping him safe until I get back.”

Artoo beeped an affirmative, which somehow made Anakin feel much better about the whole thing.

“I have to run a . . . quick errand for the Alliance,” Anakin told them, “But when I get back we’re going straight home—all of us.”

Luke’s face fell and Leia’s glare hardened, both of which Anakin ignored.

He then unclipped Ahsoka’s lightsabers from his belt and handed them to Leia.

“Here. Mom said you’re getting pretty good and wanted you to have them for now,” Anakin told her.

Given they were a gift from her stepmother and not her father, Leia accepted them.

“Both of you—stay out of trouble,” Anakin said in parting, neither expecting nor receiving a reply.

With a last warning glare, Anakin turned and walked away.  As he headed toward the ship Mon Mothma had arranged for his use, he reached into his pocket and felt the comforting weight of the cloaked binary beacon—the small item he had asked Mon Mothma for almost as an afterthought.

The other half of which he had expertly concealed in the handle of the larger of Ahsoka’s lightsabers.

Some people might frown on the lengths to which Anakin would go to keep track of his kids.  Those people did not have Leia for a daughter.

Anakin reached the U-wing and saw that Captain Andor and his unhappy droid where already loading supplies.  The former Jedi wordlessly joined them.

“Mon Mothma is clearly grateful to have your help. How lucky for us that you resurfaced at just the right moment,” Captain Andor commented as they worked.

Lucky . . . indeed.

The Rebel intelligence officer gazed at Anakin with sharp eyes before continuing, “We could have used your help for a long time.”

“Well, perhaps I thought the best way for me to help was to stay out of it,” Anakin added vaguely before shutting the cargo hold.

“Thanks again to both of you for your help,” Anakin said, concluding this conversation with the other captain before it took an any more incriminating turn.

Although from the look Captain Andor gave Anakin as he hastily climbed into the cockpit, the former Jedi could tell the other man was already suspicious.

Anakin was soon joined by the lumbering droid, who had apparently conceded the inevitable.

“I’m Anakin Skywalker by the way,” he said, attempting to begin building some sort of rapport by treating the droid as an equal.

“I’m K2SO. I’m a reprogramed Imperial droid,” Kay replied.

“Well I’m glad you decided to come,” Anakin told him.

“Cassian said I had to,” Kay replied sulkily.

“So . . . You’re a reprogramed Imperial Droid,” Anakin said, before adding congenially, “I built a protocol droid while I was growing up.”

“I find organics need to communicate trivial information in the form of ‘small talk’ confusing and unnecessary, Anakin Skywalker,” Kay replied, before adding, “Furthermore, I find your explanation for sitting out the war until now vague and unconvincing, and so does Cassian.”

“I calculate there is a 953 to 1 probability that you are hiding something,” Kay concluded.

Okay then.

Anakin let Kay—who was by far the saltiest droid he had ever met—lift the ship off the ground.

As they climbed towards the blackness of deep space, Anakin had a bad feeling that by the end of this trip he would be longing for even Threepio’s company.

A trip to find Bail Organa . . . and likely Master Yoda.

Just wonderful.

Chapter Text

In hindsight Anakin mused he should have tried deliberately telling Leia to go on a Tabanna gas run to Bespin with Han where they could run into Boba Fett and IG-88, both of whom were hoping to collect Jabba’s bounty on Han—then maybe in defiance she would have stayed safely on Yavin IV.

Anakin did not try that bit of reverse psychology, however, and unbeknownst to him as he headed off to Dagobah that is exactly what happened.

He would later reflect that giving Ahsoka’s lightsabers to his daughter had also been a poor choice.  Despite Ahsoka’s comment that Leia was a skilled swordswoman, Anakin hadn’t anticipated her actually using the insanely conspicuous weapons.

After Leia had expertly taken out IG-88, the other bounty hunter was forced to pause his effort to capture Captain Solo and regroup.

Boba Fett started by running the girl’s holo through a database to search for outstanding bounties—or relatives who would be willing to pay a ransom.  The Clone was also not above dealing with Imperials, and it was to them that he turned with his request for assistance with the interesting bit of information his facial recognition search had yielded.

The information was in fact so interesting that it quickly rocketed up the Imperial chain of command and reached the attention of Darth Maul.

“What is it, my apprentice?” Palpatine asked.

Even through the slightly distorted holographic image, Maul could sense the threat in his master’s expression if Maul was wasting his time.

“There is a report from a bounty hunter on Bespin that a girl took out an assassin droid with a pair of lightsabers—and a search of her face identified her as a possible relative of Senator Padmé Amidala,” Maul reported.

Palpatine was visibly pleased, and Maul on one level was relieved that his master deemed his news worthy of communicating.  On the other hand Palpatine smiling evilly was never the harbinger of good things.

“Ah, this news explains a great many things,” Palpatine replied.

He was likely referring, Maul knew, to the disturbance in the Force that had recently occurred.

“I have no doubt this girl is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker,” the Emperor announced, before adding ominously, “Bring her to me.”

“Yes, my Master,” Maul said, obediently bowing his head.

As the Emperor’s image abruptly disappeared, Maul remained kneeling as his thoughts ran away from him.

The Dathomirian warrior had begun his service to the most powerful being in the galaxy decades earlier—before his apprenticeship was interrupted when Obi-Wan Kenobi cut him in half.  By some mysterious power of the dark side of the Force, however, Maul had not died.  Now half cyborg, he remained powerful in the Force, but was still a shadow of his former self.  In the Force user’s long absence due to his presumed death, Palpatine had replaced him, and Maul had only regained his former position after Vader had disappeared.

The Sith Lord was well aware, however, that Palpatine would greedily take Anakin with no limbs over anyone else as apprentice, if there was even the smallest chance the Emperor could reacquire the Chosen One.

And due to the Sith Rule of Two, Maul would then again be out.

The Dathomirian, therefore, had no interest in pursuing a path that would lead to a renewed acquaintance with Skywalker.

For a dutiful apprentice, however, there was only one course of action.  Having anticipated his master’s orders before they were given, Darth Maul’s Star Destroyer was already hurtling through space towards Bespin.

---------------------------

In a different part of the galaxy, the U-wing finally reached Dagobah.  Anakin let Kay drop the ship out of hyperspace, and a planet engulfed in cloud cover suddenly filled the viewport.

“Well, that’s Dagobah,” Anakin said, as he took over piloting the ship and switched to the sublight engines.

As he had through much of the flight, the droid beside him remained hostilely mute.

“I'm not picking up any cities or technology,” Anakin said, “And no signs of Senator Organa’s ship on the scope either.”

Mon Mothma had been right.  It would have been impossible for even the best Rebellion pilot to have a hope of finding the lost Alderaanian.

“Massive life-form readings. So that won’t help us find him either,” Anakin continued.

“I calculate there is a high probability it will be unsafe for droids,” Kay replied frostily.

As he reached out through the Force for some clue of where to start looking, Anakin himself took a turn at not responding . . . knowing Kay was probably right.

Picking a spot, Anakin plunged the U-wing into the cloudy atmosphere.  Soon the viewport was enveloped in white, and the instruments were useless.

Right about now was when Threepio would be panicking and expounding predictions of doom.  Kay, however, merely let out a mechanical sigh, and seemed resigned to his fate being a swampy death.

Anakin started the ship’s landing cycle, and after crashing through trees and vines for a few seconds he abruptly pulled the nose up . . .

And leveled the ship out to hover a few meters above the ground, before gently bringing it to rest on a stable-ish patch of swamp.

“That was . . . unexpected,” Kay said of Anakin’s perfect blind landing.

“Someday you’ll have to mention this to my wife. When I tell her about it, she won’t believe me,” Anakin replied as he unclipped his harness and stood.

Making sure his lightsaber was securely fastened to his belt, Anakin opened the ship’s side door and stepped out onto reasonably solid ground.

The first thing that struck Anakin about Dagobah was the Force felt incredibly strong.  While Anakin had counted on Tatooine’s Force dampening effect to hide him from Palpatine, Master Yoda had apparently gone in the other direction—counting on Dagobah’s ubiquitous strength in the Force to hide his personal Force signature from detection.

The second was that Dagobah seemed to be an absolutely miserable place to live.

Anakin felt an involuntary twinge of satisfaction accompanied by a hope that Master Yoda had in fact been miserable.

Dusk was falling and in the fading light it was hard to tell where the spindly trees ended and vines began.  The ground consisted in either watery marsh, squishy bog, or treacherously interwoven roots—all covered in patches of low-lying fog.

It was going to be difficult for a human to cross, and would be an absolute nightmare for a droid to navigate—which was why Anakin was very surprised to see Kay lumbering out to stand behind him.

Anakin looked up at the massive likely to sink or trip droid and raised his eyebrows.

“I do not like staying with the ship,” Kay replied to Anakin’s unspoken question.

Anakin shrugged and made no attempt to dissuade the droid from his apparently illogical decision.

Kay had either decided that the risk of the ship sinking with him trapped inside outweighed the dangers of trudging around in the swamp—or likely was more social than he had so far let on, and like Artoo, did not like being left alone in a strange place.

Man and droid set off at an agonizingly slow pace in a direction Anakin deemed promising, with the former Jedi surreptitiously using the Force to steady the giant droid and make sure he did not fall into the water.

Soon it became apparent that landing the ship was not the only thing Anakin had nailed to perfection, as up ahead the glow of firelight could soon be seen.

As Anakin and Kay walked nearer, they saw that the light was coming from the circular windows of a squat domed structure.  Knowing the Jedi grandmaster’s predilection for round and spherical stuff, Anakin had no doubt that this hovel belonged to Master Yoda.

They arrived just as Senator Bail Organa began emerging from the structure’s Yoda size door by crawling out on all fours.

Halfway out the missing Rebellion leader abruptly noticed the newcomers.

“Anakin Skywalker?” the Alderaanian asked in a tone of utter disbelief that Anakin was by now getting used to.

“Senator Organa,” Anakin replied, reaching a hand down to help the older man to a more dignified position.

As the Senator rose to stand, Anakin could see a wariness in his eyes, and knew that unlike his counterpart Bail Organa knew all about Darth Vader.

“After Padmé and Obi-Wan rescued me I’ve been trying to stay off the radar,” Anakin attempted to alleviate the older man’s anxieties, before continuing, “Some . . . unanticipated events led me to cross paths with the Alliance a few days ago. Mon Mothma asked me to find you. She said you came out here looking for-”

Something over Anakin’s shoulder caught Bail Organa’s attention, and Anakin turned around to face-

“-Master Yoda.”

In true Yoda form, the 2’2” Jedi Grandmaster had somehow managed to find a rock to stand on that was exactly 4’ tall, and was now disconcertingly looking Anakin directly in the eye.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

To the unacquainted eye, Yoda appeared to be a harmless little creature with whimsically green skin, funny big ears, and a quaintly gnarled walking stick.

Anakin knew better—and suspected Master Yoda didn’t need the walking stick he employed to project an image of age and infirmity any more than he had twenty years ago.

For his part, the former Jedi Knight also knew he owed the leader of the decimated Order an extremely large apology, which would still be completely insufficient given the profound degree of murder and mayhem he’d wrought.

At the same time, Anakin didn’t want to pretend that Master Yoda didn’t bear considerable responsibility for everything that had happened to him since the moment he joined the Jedi.

Fortunately, the Jedi Grandmaster seemed to understand this.

“The greatest of teachers failure is, Young Skywalker. Meditated long on my failure, have I,” Yoda told him.

Anakin opened his mouth to say something either apologetic or conciliatory, but all that came out was, “I imagine that has taken quite a long time, Master Yoda.”

“Failed you have I, Young Skywalker. Sorry I am,” Yoda continued.

Anakin again opened his mouth to say something at least polite—but found responding as anything but a petulant child was completely beyond him.

“I bet you are,” Anakin replied saltily, glaring at the apologetic Jedi Master.

As fully aware of how ill-advised their reunion was, Anakin was still caught off guard by just how mad he was at Master Yoda about . . . well everything.

Having spent several decades on Force dampened Tatooine, Anakin was also unprepared for the shift to Force enhanced Dagobah.

With his emotions flaring, Anakin abruptly found himself overpowered and caught up in a Force vision.

Turning he found Leia and Han under attack from a pair of bounty hunters.  As Anakin watched, Leia demolished an IG assassin droid with impressive efficiency, while Han exchanged blaster fire with a man dressed in Mandalorian armor.

Something caught the pair’s attention behind Anakin. He turned and the scene shifted. Anakin now saw stormtroopers restraining Chewbacca and Leia, who was screaming her head off, as Han was pulled from a chamber—now frozen in carbonite.

The scene again changed-

To Maul grabbing Leia by the arm and raising his red lightsaber close to her face.  As she took in Maul’s ghoulish countenance, Anakin saw in her expression that likely for the first time in her life his daughter was truly frightened.

Anakin came out of the terrifying vision with a gasp, and found he was now lying on the ground.

The vision had been horrifying.  Opening his eyes to find Master Yoda’s upside-down face filling his vision wasn’t pleasant either.

Anakin rolled away from where the tiny Jedi Grandmaster was peering over him, and quickly returned to standing.

“My daughter is in trouble. We need to leave now,” he told Senator Organa.

“Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin!” Master Yoda chided, not for the first time.

Anakin had had enough, and whirling back around he let Yoda have it.

“Yeah, is this the part where you tell me not to care if my daughter dies? Like when I wasn’t supposed to care about losing my wife?” Anakin snapped, before really laying into the Jedi Grandmaster.

“You know, if you’d shown even an iota of compassion instead of bashing me over the head about all my ‘unbecoming for a Jedi feelings’ maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy for Palpatine to talk me into falling to the dark side, razing the Temple, and killing all the Jedi!” Anakin yelled.

For a moment after Anakin’s outburst everyone was stunned into silence.

Anakin hadn’t meant to bring up the rancor in the room—let alone with so little tact—and was certain nothing could make this situation more awkward.

“Oh, I understand now,” Kay announced, “I suspect that Mon Mothma was unaware of these events as otherwise, by my calculation, there is a 53 to 1 probability she would not have assigned Anakin Skywalker to this mission.”

Never mind, Anakin amended to himself, he’d been wrong.

“You know what—I’m done,” Anakin declared, “Kay we’re leaving. Senator, if you’d like to be rescued, I suggest you come with us.”

He then turned to Master Yoda.

“Master Yoda, I don’t think you’ve learned a thing. Your ‘meditation time’ looks an awful lot like you holing up in the swamp to wallow in failure while Palpatine and Maul run rough shod over the galaxy. But you’re welcome to stay and carry on with it forever for all I care.”

Turning on his heals, Anakin stormed off in the direction of the U-wing.

He was also done with his attempts to accommodate and bond with the grumpy droid who didn’t want to be here.  Reaching out a hand, he wordlessly lifted Kay off the ground with the Force.

The droid initially gave out an undignified mechanical squawk, but figured out much more quickly than Threepio would have that he was being spared a treacherous walk back to the ship, and offered no complaint as Anakin carried him along as he trudged off.

Bail Organa preferred to walk even on the difficult terrain.  He was careful, however, to keep pace with Anakin, accurately perceiving that the fuming Force user had a low threshold for similarly carrying the Senator back to the ship if the older man could not keep up.

They arrived at the U-wing to find Master Yoda waiting for them.

Anakin knew the Jedi Grandmaster could move quite quickly when he actually wanted to, and was more surprised that Master Yoda had bothered to follow them than that he had somehow beaten them all to the ship.

“Come with you to find your lost child, I will,” Master Yoda announced.

“Fine,” Anakin said frostily.

Barely waiting for everyone to strap in, Anakin lifted the U-wing off the ground, and shot the ship back through the vines, the dense clouds, and into the blackness of deep space.

Chapter Text

As Anakin noted before leaving Dagobah, both the cloaked bianary beacon in Ahsoka’s lightsaber and the homing beacon on the Falcon were in the vicinity of Bespin—where Anakin assumed Han and Leia had gone to pick up Tibanna gas for the Rebellion.

Because of course his daughter had not listened to him and stayed out of trouble on Yavin IV.

The U-wing arrived in the Anoat sector, and Anakin found that the bianary beacon was being ominously jammed and the gaseous planet crawling with Imperials.  Between the nondescript nature of their cargo ship and Kay’s wealth of Imperial Codes and ship ID overlays, however, getting clearance to land in Cloud City was not a problem.

What was a problem for Anakin was the need to simultaneously guard Senator Organa while looking for Leia.  And the only way to do that was to take everyone with him in his search.

Bail understood the situation without discussion and silently accepted a weapon from the former Jedi.

Anakin then turned to the cranky droid, expecting to be met with more protestations.

“I will come with you if you give me a blaster,” Kay announced.

Anakin wordlessly tossed him one, and the droid seemed a little stunned that his demand had been so easily met.

Master Yoda for his part probably could have helped guard the others, but from what Anakin could sense, he was not planning to.  The little Jedi Master appeared content to hobble along as slowly as possible but still manage to keep up with the small group.

In the end, Anakin learned he had just missed Maul leaving with Leia.

He was not, however, too late to rescue Han from Boba Fett—nor was their group the only one trying to save him.

Anakin and company arrived on the landing platform where the bounty hunter’s weird ship was docked, to find Fett loading the carbonite slab containing Han—all while exchanging blaster fire with a group comprised of Chewbacca, a dark-skinned man in a cape, and a few others dressed in the uniform of local security.

The newcomers quickly took cover, and Organa and a gleeful Kay then joined the firefight.

As helpful in the situation as Anakin expected him to be, Master Yoda stood calmly in the background with both hands resting on his gnarled cane, not raising even a finger in assistance.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber, and with a flying leap landed behind the bounty hunter, with whom the former Jedi had been previously acquainted.  In his youth Boba Fett had been quite the little punk, and Anakin was not surprised that the bounty hunter appeared to have grown up to reach his full potential.

Suddenly surrounded, Fett’s jet pack flared to life, and he rose into the air until all his adversaries were once again in front of him.

Although once a fierce enemy of the Jedi, the decades had dulled Fett’s memory when it came to the inadvisability of shooting at a combatant wielding a lightsaber.

Anakin managed to deflect one of the blaster bolts straight back into the Mandalorian style jet pack.  It caught fire and then exploded—sending the infamous bounty hunter falling through Bespin’s gaseous atmosphere presumably to his death.

Although, Anakin noted, with Boba Fett one never really knew.

Turning back to the ship, Anakin saw the Wookiee and the dark skin man rushing towards the cargo hold.  By the time the Force user reached them, they were unfreezing Han from his carbonite prison.

Anakin was no stranger to carbonite, having once frozen himself, Obi-Wan, Rex, a handful of the 501^st—and unwittingly a disobedient teenage Ahsoka—as part of a daring plan to infiltrate the Separatists controlled Citadel.  He was, therefore, happy to see that, although disoriented, his roguish son-in-law had not been frozen long enough to have contracted hibernation sickness.

“Leia!” Han cried as he frantically looked around.

Chewbacca filled him in on recent events, and the pilot rounded on the dark skinned man.

“Lando!” Han scream.

“What was I supposed to do when Maul and a legion of stormtroopers showed up?” the other man countered.

Anakin briefly rubbed his temples and took a cleansing breath before he slipped into the familiar role of General and took control of the situation.

“We don’t have time for this,” he cut into the argument.  Turning to the man in the cape he said, “I’m assuming you’re in charge here.”

“Lando Calrissian.  I’m the administrator of this facility,” the other man rose and addressed Anakin with the poise of a businessman.

“Calrissian, you will supply us with a full shipment of Tibanna gas—for free,” Anakin told him, before turning to Bail and the droid, “Senator you and Kay will take it back to the Alliance.” He received silent nods from both. “The rest of us,” he said looking at Han and Chewie, “Are going after my daughter.”

At Anakin’s revelation, Lando looked from Anakin’s lightsaber back to Han, clearly wondering what his smuggler friend had gotten himself into this time.  Han did not have time to answer as Anakin suddenly rounded on him.

“Were you lying about making the Kessel run in twelve parsecs?” Anakin asked the younger pilot point blank.

“What?!” Han replied in confusion.

“Were you lying?!” Anakin repeated with more vehemence.

“No!” Han said defensively, but Anakin sensed also honestly.

Lando, who had apparently also been there, chimed in to corroborate Han’s account.

“Then we’re taking your ship,” Anakin declared.

Han was visibly stunned and didn’t immediately reply.  Anakin turned back to Bail Organa.

“We will find the Death Star, and the Alliance can track us with this,” he said as he handed the receiver to the homing beacon on the Falcon to the Senator.

“Thank you, Anakin,” Bail said earnestly as he took the receiver.

The two men shook hands, before exchanging parting glances—both keenly aware of all the ways this situation could go very badly and that this might be their last meeting in this life.  Neither of them, however, were inclined to mention it.

Kay did not share their sentiments or tact.

“Goodbye, Anakin Skywalker.  Would you like to know the probability of us never seeing each other again?”

“Not really,” Anakin replied.

“Well, it’s high—very high,” Kay replied as he lumbered after the Alderaanian Senator.

Anakin sighed and shook his head, before turning to his son-in-law and Wookiee copilot.

“Let’s get going,” Anakin barked, not wanting to waste any more time.

Following Anakin back into the city, Han resumed his previous argument with his father-in-law.

“Seriously, where did you put it?” he demanded, continuing to be incensed by the idea of his ship being tracked.

“Still not telling you,” Anakin replied.

Once inside, Han led the way back to the Falcon—where they found the landing pad crawling with stormtroopers.

The three of them, however, made quick work of dispatching them and were soon striding towards the ship . . . the ship which Anakin was more than a little surprised Maul had not simply blown up.

As they boarded the Falcon, Anakin noted with some surprise that their party actually numbered four.  Master Yoda—who had thus far been such a non-factor that Anakin had momentarily forgotten he was there—was apparently coming with them.  Tired of even walking slowly, the little Jedi Master was now riding on Chewbacca’s back.

As they entered the cockpit, Anakin made a move for the pilot’s seat, but Han quickly cut him off.

“Na-ah. My ship—Chewie and I are flying,” the younger pilot declared.

“There’s bound to be a blockade out there,” Anakin countered, loath to leave evading whatever traps Maul had left for him in the hands of his irresponsible son-in-law.  “I don’t think-”

“Look, I know you were a big deal like twenty years ago,” Han cut him off, “But you’ve been out of the game for decades. Do you even know what a TIE fighter is?”

“A what?”

“Standard Imperial fighters—no combat shields, no hyperdrive, no life support—all to make room for advanced engine technology.  They’re some of the most maneuverable starfighters ever designed, and there are a blazing lot of them,” Han finished.

Anakin idly mused that the new fighters’ minimal protection sounded like something Tarkin would think up to inspire pilots to fight harder or die.

“And have you ever run an Imperial blockade before?” Han continued.

“I’ve run plenty of blockades,” Anakin argued.

“But not an Imperial one,” Han countered, and Anakin begrudgingly admitted to himself—but not Captain Solo—that the younger man had a point.

“I, on the other hand, run Imperial blockades all the time,” Han told him with cocky self-assurance.

“From someone who just married my daughter, how is that supposed to be remotely consoling!” Anakin retorted.

“Look, I know you want to get Leia back—so do I—but you’re just going to have to trust me,” Han responded with maddening calm.

“Well, I don’t!” Anakin snapped.

Han knew he had won this round and didn’t bother replying as the Falcon cleared Bespin’s atmosphere and made for deep space.

Palpatine had ordered Maul to bring him Leia with the full intent to use her as bait for Anakin.  He had not, however, specifically forbade the Dathomirian—who had no interest in letting Anakin successfully walk back into Palpatine’s clutches and replace him as apprentice—from setting up as many obstacles in Anakin’s path as possible.

Soon the Falcon was being chased down by a Star Destroyer, and Anakin became far too familiar with what TIE fighters looked like.

Chewbacca roared a warning to Han about the additional two Star Destroyers ahead—coming straight at them and cutting off their path to hyperspace.

“I saw um, I saw um!” Han shouted back to his copilot, “Check the deflector shields!”

In the passenger seat beside Anakin, Master Yoda had his eyes closed and appeared to be calmly meditating.

Anakin’s heart was in his mouth, however, and he had to physically sit on his hands to stop himself from forcibly removing Captain Solo from the pilot’s chair and taking over flying.

He hoped he would live long enough to not regret his restraint.

“This baby’s got a few surprises left in her—we can still outmaneuver them,” Han declared as he threw the Falcon into a dive.

As the ship corkscrewed away from the blaster bolts from the still pursuing TIE fighters, Anakin got a glimpse of the three Star Destroyers taking evasive action to avoid colliding.

Quite an impressive bit of flying.

The thought passed through Anakin’s mind unbidden—although he certainly was not letting the compliment leave his lips.

After that, Anakin’s anxiety was replaced with the rather disconcerting sense of having to periodically remind himself that he was not the one flying.

“Prepare to make the jump to lightspeed!” Han barked to his copilot.

Chewbacca noted the fighters were getting closer.

“Oh yeah? Watch this!” Han said with bravado as he pulled the lever down on the hyperdrive.

There was an ominous sputtering sound, and through the viewport the stars remained pricks of light against the backdrop of normal space.

Anakin now understood why Maul had not destroyed the Falcon outright.  Trapping them aboard a ship with a broken hyperdrive ensured that, when the Imperials did blow up the Falcon, Anakin would likely be on it.

“I think we’re in trouble,” Han said, all self-assurance gone from his voice.

Anakin wordlessly rose from his seat and made his way down to the gunner station for the ship’s dorsal quad cannons.  Putting on the com headset more to keep his hair out of his eyes than from an intention to communicate with his son-in-law, Anakin made efficient work of blowing the pursuing TIE fighters out of the sky.

Although the fighters in the immediate facility were now gone, the Star Destroyers had regrouped from their near collision and the closest one began bombarding the Falcon’s rear deflector shields with laser fire.

The exposed gunner position was not someplace Anakin wanted to be under these new circumstances, and he headed back up to the cockpit.

He arrived to find Captain Solo simultaneously having a meltdown and somehow still having everything under control.  It was a state of being many would consider impossible—except maybe Anakin Skywalker.

Chewbacca roared that they’d just lost the main rear deflector shield, and they would be done for if the Falcon took one more hit to the back quarter.

“Turn her around!” Han yelled as he rose from his chair to flip some switches on the uppermost control panel, “I said turn her around! I’m going to put all power to the front shield!”

As he turned to climb back into his seat, Han briefly shot Anakin a look and opened his mouth in anticipation of having to defend himself and his crazy plan against his father-in-law’s inevitable protestation.

But the protest never came.

“What?” Anakin said, “I think it’s a good plan.”

A comically awkward look came over Han’s face as he sat down, and he made no further reply.

It was, after all, not actually a reasonable plan.  If Threepio had been there he would by that point have been screaming about the impressively low odds of surviving a direct assault on an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Which didn’t change the fact that Anakin would have done exactly the same thing if he were the one flying.

“Well, this is where the fun begins,” Han commented as he gunned the Falcon towards the approaching capital ship.

In his mind, Anakin could see Ahsoka smirking at him all the way from Tatooine.

Evading the turboblasts from the Star Destroyer, Captain Solo brazenly buzzed the bridge . . . and then deftly dropped the Falcon onto the back of the aft targeting system where it would be off the Imperial’s scopes, and even partially concealed in the Destroyer’s own shadow.

“I’m assuming it’s still standard procedure to dump their garbage before jumping to hyperspace,” Anakin commented.

“Yep,” Han answered, impressed and pleased that his father-in-law saw where he was going with this little stunt.

Eventually the unimaginative Imperial officers were forced to believe that the Falcon had somehow jumped to hyperspace, and the fleet began to break up. 

“Here we go Chewie. Stand by,” Han said, and as the right moment came, “Detach.”

The Wookiee copilot released the landing claw, and the Falcon began floating away from the Star Destroyer—blending in perfectly with the rest of the Imperial’s garbage.

Watching through the debris as the Star Destroyers all jumped to light speed, Anakin begrudgingly admitted to himself that Han Solo had his moments—not many of them—but he did have them.

No longer in imminent danger, the ship’s occupants turned their attention to the malfunctioning hyperdrive.

Anakin soon found himself straddling a pipe in the bowels of the Falcon, scowling at Han—who was hanging upside down—and noting that his positive feelings towards his son-in-law had been rather short lived.

Captain Solo had apparently crosswired every essential part of the ship six ways from Coruscant, and the amount of bonding tape holding everything together was truly scandalous.  For his part, Anakin had come to accept that the Falcon was simultaneously the fastest ship in the galaxy and an absolute piece of junk.

The hyperdrive itself was not merely malfunctioning, but as Anakin suspected, expertly sabotaged.  The standard parts used for routine repairs had also either been destroyed or stolen.

Anakin desperately wished Artoo was there . . . and even Threepio or Kay would be welcome.

“Why don’t you have a droid?!” Anakin yelled down to Han.

“Because I hate droids. Don’t need um or trust um!” Han answered.

“Well, with this piece of junk falling apart we could definitely use one right now!” Anakin countered testily.

“He didn’t mean that, baby,” Han falsely reassured his ship.

Repairing the destroyed hyperdrive with such limited resources was ultimately too much for Captain Solo, who finally conceded defeat in deep frustration.

It was not for nothing, however, that Anakin was capable of building a droid who could make the necessary repairs.  With his innate mechanical genius, the Force user devised a brilliantly creative work around, and fixed the hyperdrive with nontraditional parts—and yes—more bonding tape.

It was now Han’s turn to be impressed with his father-in-law, and he made no comment when Anakin sat down in Chewbacca’s currently vacant copilot seat.

“Now all we have to figure out is where in the galaxy to start looking,” Han said morosely.

Anakin wordlessly reached into his pocket and pulled out the cloaked binary beacon.

“And what’s that tracking,” Han asked him sardonically.

“Leia’s stepmother’s lightsaber,” Anakin replied.

Han looked at Anakin in utter bewilderment.

Anakin glared back at him, daring him to say anything.

Conceding that his recklessness and unpaid debts had had more than a small role in getting his wife kidnapped—and that Anakin’s overbearing parenting was currently the only way they had to get her back—Han wisely made no comment as he connected the beacon to the nav computer.

Anakin saw that the binary beacon was again emitting a signal—which was even more ominous than when it had been previously jammed.  Soon the computer pinged with a location, and this time when Captain Solo pulled down on the hyperdrive lever, the comforting lines of hyperspace appeared.

Finally they were on their way.

Chapter Text

Guided by the binary beacon, Captain Solo dropped the Falcon out of hyperspace—in the middle of nowhere but still uncomfortably close to Chandrila—and checked the ship’s sensors as he gazed out the viewport.

“Well according to your other tracker, this is the place,” Han commented to Anakin, “But there’s nothing here but that small moon.”

“That’s not a moon—that’s the space station,” Anakin replied.

Han’s eye’s widened in disbelief, but he nonetheless flew the Falcon straight towards it.

In the copilot’s seat Anakin gazed out the viewport at the Death Star.  It was the most over the top, ostentatious weapon of mass destruction of which anyone could ever conceive—and, Anakin noted, was very Palpatine.

As his former mentor’s name rose to his mind, Anakin felt a familiar sinister presence reach out and touch him through the Force.

The Sith Lord Master knew he was here.

As the Falcon neared the Death Star none of its occupants were surprised when a tractor beam locked on and guided the ship into one of its many hangars.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Anakin announced as they all began to unstrap.

“Master Yoda, you deactivate the tractor beams,” Anakin said, assigning the job to the little Jedi Grandmaster both because he would be best able to stealthily accomplish the task—and because Anakin was tired of Master Yoda doing absolutely nothing.

“You’ll need them to be shut down to escape after we’ve rescued Leia,” Anakin continued.

Anakin was not consciously aware that his phrasing implied he did not expect to be among the group when it departed.  Master Yoda, however, gave Anakin a sharp look as he wordlessly got down from his seat.

“The rest of us will go get Leia,” Anakin finished.

With Master Yoda waiting until after their departure to make his move, the rest of the rescue party quickly moved out and descended the Falcon’s gangplank.

The stormtroopers in the hangar made no move to fire on them, and one wearing the designation of a captain stepped forward.

“Take us to the throne room,” Anakin commanded.

“Those are my orders. Follow me,” the mechanical voice replied.

The stormtrooper made no move to disarm any of them—a move Anakin in particular found disconcerting as it indicated that Palpatine considered none of their weapons to be a threat.  Soon they reached a turbolift guarded by two red clad Praetorian guardsmen, who allowed the small group to board unhindered.

As the turbolift ascended, Anakin felt Maul’s rageful Force signature near that of Leia’s terrified one.  But mostly he felt Palpatine’s malevolent presence in the Force growing stronger by the second, and it filled Anakin’s heart with dread.

The turbolift came to a stop and the doors opened, and Anakin stepped out into a living nightmare.

Palpatine was seated on a throne, much like the one he had been bound to when Anakin and Obi-Wan had “rescued” him from the Separatist flagship during the Clone Wars.

As he had been then, Palpatine was in complete control of the situation.

On a small table to the Emperor’s right, Anakin saw Ahsoka’s lightsabers.

To the left stood Darth Maul.  His black and red markings and horned head were unchanged with the passage of time, and his cyborg legs increased his monstrous appearance.

In one hand the Dathomirian held the hilt of his double-bladed lightsaber.

His other hand gripped Leia’s upper arm.

Leia was mustering all of her considerable defiance, Anakin sensed, but she still stood trembling in Maul’s inhuman clutches, with tears staining her cheeks.

“Leia!” Han cried as soon as he saw his wife, and unthinkingly rushed towards her before Anakin could stop him.

Palpatine lazily raised a hand and sent a bolt of blue lightning straight into the young pilot’s chest.

“HAN!” Leia screamed as he dropped unconscious toward the ground.

Chewbacca rushed forward and caught Han’s body, and Anakin ignited his lightsaber and stepped in front to guard against further attack.

The former Jedi was relieved to feel that Han’s life-force remained strong, and he sent assurances towards his daughter through the Force that her husband was still alive.

“Dad . . .” Leia choked out.

“I’m here Leia,” Anakin told her consolingly, even as he desperately racked his brain for a way out of this terrible situation.

Palpatine smiled evilly.

“Yes, indeed you are. Welcome back, my boy,” the Sith Lord crooned with artificial sweetness, before his voiced deepened and took on a more menacing tone of displeasure, “Long have you kept me waiting . . .”

Palpatine’s voice crawled over Anakin’s skin, but he tried to stay focused on the task at hand: simultaneously rescuing Leia from a monstrous psychopath and a sadistic megalomaniac.

While the Sith Lord was ultimately the more formidable adversary, Anakin knew that if he didn’t get Leia away from Maul he would likely watch his daughter be fatally stabbed right in front of him, as Obi-Wan had watched the Dathomirian murder the love of his life on Mandalore.

“If anything happens to her, I promise you that I will kill myself,” Anakin announced to Palpatine.

To Maul that sounded like a wonderful idea, and he moved to ignite his lightsaber.

Palpatine, however, was faster and roughly yanked Leia out of Maul’s reach with the Force.

“My apprentice will decide her fate,” Palpatine declared with malevolent glee.

And with the Sith there was always—and only—two.

Which meant it was time for the Sith Master to hold another round of tryouts.

The thought of again playing Palpatine’s game filled Anakin’s heart with dread—but with his daughter’s life in the balance he had no choice.

Which was after all the whole point.

As Palpatine looked on over tented fingers, Anakin and Maul squared off.  Anakin’s lightsaber already glowed blue in the dim light of the chamber.  Maul ignited his double-bladed red saber as the two began circling each other.

Maul struck first, and the two sabers crackled as Anakin blocked the slash.  Anakin then took the offensive, with Maul successfully matching him move for move.

After an opening salvo of quick strikes their sabers briefly locked.

“First Kenobi, and now you. I will not again be robbed of my rightful place in the galaxy, Skywalker!” Maul spat venomously.

“You’ve always been a second-best replacement,” Anakin countered, before Maul spun away in a fit of rage.

Maul was surprisingly agile on his mechanical legs—a necessity after his duel with Obi-Wan left him cut in half but somehow not eternally dead.  The sound of his clawed feet scraping against the floor mingled with the hum and clash of lightsabers as the combatants each blocked and parried, and their fight roamed over much of the large chamber.

Although Maul had the advantage of two blades, Anakin had long been one of the best swordsmen the Jedi had ever produced, and his single lightsaber was more than up to the challenge.

Especially when the stakes were so high—his daughter’s life—against an adversary who’d caused his best friend so much pain.

Blocking another one of Maul’s vicious slashes, Anakin finally managed to outmaneuver the Sith and gain the upper hand.

It was an opportunity Anakin did not intend to waste, and he stabbed Maul through the heart before slashing the length of his monstrous chest.

“Survive that,” he told Maul before life left the Sith’s eyes and his body crumpled to the ground.

For a moment Anakin stood over his fallen enemy, trying to catch his breath as lingering rage coursed through him.

“Very good, Anakin!” Palpatine crooned.

As the Sith Lord rose from his throne, his hands came to rest on a knobbled walking stick—apparently having adopted Master Yoda’s preferred illusion of a helpless old man who moved slowly and walked with a cane.

It struck Anakin as ironic that although Galactic Emperor and powerful in the Force beyond most being’s wildest imaginings, Palpatine continued to be obsessed with the Jedi and was still copying Master Yoda.

Palpatine’s gleeful expression abruptly turned to an ominous scowl.

“Your abandonment has caused me a great many problems, boy,” the Emperor snarled, “And for that you will be chastised!”

Anakin ignited his lightsaber and managed to absorb the lightning emanating from Palpatine’s hand with the blade.  Palpatine ceased his assault and turned his hand toward Leia.  Anakin understood the choice the Emperor was giving him, and shut down his lightsaber.

The next wave of lightning hit Anakin square in the chest.

“NO!” Leia screamed.

Palpatine ignored her, and laughingly sent several more waves of lightning towards Anakin who was now writhing on the ground in agony.  The Sith Lord knew, however, that physical pain was not the most effective way to motivate the young Force user and soon ceased his bombardment.

The Emperor had, after all, much more potent means of control and torture at his fingertips.

“But now that you have returned to your rightful place at my side . . . all will be forgiven,” Palpatine declared.

“Please,” Anakin said as he staggered to his feet, “I’ll stay and do whatever you ask—just let her go.”

“DAD, NO!” Leia cried.

Anakin looked over at his daughter. In her face he could see that Leia finally understood that everything Anakin did he did to protect her—and how much he loved her.

Now that it was all too late.

“I assure you; she will be quite safe . . . with me,” Palpatine said, placing a gnarled hand on Leia’s shoulder.

A wave of fury washed over Anakin.  He knew, however, that lashing out would only endanger his daughter and fuel the look of ecstatic enjoyment on Palpatine’s face, and he managed to stay in control.

“When will you let me see her again?” Anakin asked.

“That depends entirely on you, my boy—and how quickly you crush the Rebellion!” Palpatine replied.

The Emperor again smiled evilly.  A large section of the throne room wall abruptly cleared to reveal a transparasteel viewport.  Since the Falcon’s arrival the Death Star had apparently made a short hyperspace jump, and the planet of Chandrila was now framed in the window.

“With the full might of this battle station, it should not take long,” Palpatine said before continuing to secure Anakin’s binders, “And the homeworld of Lord Vader will of course remain unmolested.”

The Emperor’s voice again grew cold with displeasure, “I assume you’ve been hiding from my incompetent spies on Tatooine.”

Palpatine reached over to the table where Ahsoka’s lightsabers lay, and one by one he picked them up and secured them to his belt beneath his robes.  Feeling the full weight of the Sith Lord’s threat, Anakin understood the implication that Palpatine knew exactly to whom the sabers belonged.

Anger, fear, and despair seized Anakin’s heart as he accepted that he had never been able to protect himself or his family from Palpatine—and he never would be.

“Kneel, Lord Vader!” the Emperor commanded.

Leia started to cry harder, as truly out of options, Anakin slowly obeyed.

It was in that darkest of moments that something truly unexpected happened.

The turbolift doors opened.

And Master Yoda strode purposefully into the room.

Although he was still several feet shorter than Anakin kneeling, the shadow the Jedi Grandmaster cast felt very long and his powerful presence in the Force suddenly filled the room.

Master Yoda walked forward slowly and radiated a sense of great determination.  He stopped when he drew level with Anakin.

“Young Skywalker you may not have,” Master Yoda declared.

In his long meditations on his failure, Master Yoda had come to accept that armies—whether clone, droid, the Imperial fleet, or a motley crew of Rebels—mattered little in the grand scheme of things.  The true balance of power in the galaxy boiled down to a fight over the Chosen One—a highly talented and very vulnerable young Force user.

Anakin finally understood that the Jedi Grandmaster could see history hurtling towards repeating itself, and it was for this reason—and this reason alone—that Master Yoda had left Dagobah and come with him.

Somewhere in the back of Anakin’s mind he registered that Palpatine was ordering him to do something.  Anakin, however, was immobilized by shock.  He knelt unmoving, his jaw involuntarily dropped, as he gaped open mouthed at Master Yoda.

Never before had he felt so protected.

Palpatine scowled, highly displeased that his old adversary had changed from reliably ineffective to an unpredictable wildcard.

The Sith Lord began descending from his dais, one hand on his walking stick and the other still gripping Leia’s shoulder as he continued to use her as a human shield.

Master Yoda again started forward. He would of course prefer to get Leia back unharmed, but, unlike Anakin, he was not paralyzed by Palpatine having a hostage.

In the calm before the coming storm the only sound in the throne room was the sound of footsteps and the periodic clank of both Palpatine and Master Yoda’s walking sticks striking the metal floor.

As he watched from the sideline, a ludicrous image came to Anakin’s mind of the Sith Lord and Jedi Grandmaster finally converging—only to take turns poking each other with their fake canes.

The two most powerful Force beings in the galaxy, however, quickly escalated to more impressive fighting techniques.

Palpatine struck first.  Dropping his cane, he sent a wave of blue lightning towards his adversary.  Master Yoda, however, was ready and the lightning stopped in a ball of energy near his outstretched hands—a ball he began to slowly push back towards Palpatine.

Needing both of his hands to increase his attack, Palpatine finally let go of Leia’s shoulder.

Even in the midst of her present ordeal, Leia still had her wits about her.  The second she was free she dropped to the floor away from Palpatine—where her father could finally grab her through the Force and pull her to safety.

Anakin rose to his feet to catch his daughter, and they held each other tightly when she finally arrived.  Leia began to sob uncontrollably, and while Anakin very much wanted to join her they were not yet out of danger.

He moved Leia behind him so he could shield her, and she wrapped her arms around him in a vice grip as she continued to sob into his back.  Anakin reassuringly squeezed her arm, as he made sure he was angled in a way to also protect Chewbacca and the still unconscious Han.  He then turned his attention fully back to Master Yoda and Palpatine.

In the few seconds Anakin had been distracted, the fight had evolved significantly.

No longer showing the slightest sign of feigned infirmity, the two archenemies had moved on to Force blasting each other and hurling in the other’s direction anything in the room that was not tied down.

Anakin set up a protective force field around his family and did his best to shield them all from the mounting destruction raging through the throne room.  He then ran through his options to best help Master Yoda.

His search became increasingly frantic, as Anakin saw that it was not for nothing that Palpatine had spent a lifetime pursuing unlimited power . . . and that the Sith Lord was slowly prevailing over his Jedi adversary.

A direct assault would give Palpatine time to defend himself—and would also leave Anakin’s family unprotected.  Not for the first time on this ill-fated trip, Anakin desperately wished Ahsoka was here with him.

Suddenly, Anakin remembered that while Ahsoka herself was not here her lightsabers were.

. . . and were currently clipped onto Palpatine’s belt.

Seeing Palpatine about to advance a step closer to Master Yoda, Anakin impulsively reached out through the Force and ignited both sabers.

The Sith Lord shrieked with rage as one of the blades cut into his advancing leg.  It wasn’t enough to do any real damage—but the momentary distraction was what Master Yoda needed to Force blast Palpatine over the railing and into the open reactor shaft.

As Palpatine fell towards the reactor core, Anakin had no intention of letting him keep Ahsoka’s lightsabers even in death.  Strategically angling them with the Force, Anakin called them.

They flew straight and true into Anakin’s outstretched hands.

. . . after cutting Palpatine in half.

A wave of dark energy exploded from Palpatine’s severed body, and Anakin and Master Yoda did their best to protect the remaining occupants of the throne room until it passed.

In the aftermath Anakin and Master Yoda turned to face each other.  Neither of them said anything, but the look Anakin gave the Jedi Grandmaster was one of deep gratitude and relief.  Master Yoda inclined his head at the young Force user.  Although visibly winded, he emitted a sense of deep peace and accomplishment.

By unspoken agreement both knew it was time to leave.

Leia has stopped weeping, but still clung to her father for support.  Anakin wrapped his arm protectively around her as they made for the turbolift.

Chewbacca followed them carrying Han in his arms, stopping for a moment to allow Master Yoda to climb onto his back.

This time Anakin did not begrudge the little Jedi Grandmaster the ride.

Chapter Text

The small rescue party emerged from the throne room’s private turbolift, and passed the Praetorian guardsmen that Master Yoda had knocked unconscious on his way up.  Anakin supported Leia, Chewbacca carried the still unconscious Han, and Master Yoda rode on the Wookiee’s back, as they retraced their steps to the Millennium Falcon.

The Rebel attack force had arrived, and a battle now raged around the Death Star as it orbited Chandrila.  There also seemed to be a growing sense of chaos and panic spreading throughout the Imperials—from the officers, stormtroopers, to the lowest ranking conscript—which Anakin suspected has something to do with the recent demise of the Emperor.

In sight of the Falcon, Anakin caught Master Yoda’s eye.

“Deactivated the tractor beams successfully I have,” Master Yoda answered Anakin’s unspoken question.

They continued to hold each other’s gaze, and Anakin could tell that they were thinking the same thing—that since they were on board they should probably do something to stop the Death Star from blowing up the nearby planet.

Both of them, however, were completely spent after their battle with Palpatine.  They were in no shape to fight their way to the control room—assuming they could actually find it quickly on the massive space station.

“We’ll help from outside. Come on!” Anakin announced.

They all boarded the Falcon. While Chewbacca and Leia got Han settled into the ship’s medbay and Master Yoda resumed his position in one of the passenger seats, Anakin jumped into the pilot’s chair and began the ship’s remarkably fast start up sequence.  The Wookiee copilot soon returned, and sliding into his own chair made no protest to the seating arrangement.

Anakin fired up the engines and shot the Falcon out of the hangar.  He quickly located the epicenter of the battle between the Rebellion fighters and the Imperial TIEs, and he swung the Falcon around in a wide arc to reach the battle.  Anakin reflected that he would have previously been happy to go the rest of his life without flying this bucket of bolts, but as he dodged and wove his way through the fray, blasting enemy fighters as he went, Anakin begrudgingly changed his mind.

Flying the Falcon was amazing.

The agility of the freighter was that of a much smaller ship, while the fire power it packed rivaled that of a much larger one.  And the speed—oh the speed—which, especially in the midst of space combat, gave Anakin an incredible rush and made him heady with glee.  Finally, he had to agree that the temperamental, frequently malfunctioning ship was worth every piece of bonding tape that held it together.

Recalling himself to the present objective, Anakin reached out through the Force, before quickly sending the Falcon into a spiraling nosedive towards the long trench upon which the Rebels were focusing their attack.

And shot a trio of TIE fighters off a very specific X-wing.

“You’re all clear, Luke,” Anakin said through the com, “Now blow this things so we can go home!”

“Dad! . . . I don’t know if I can do this!” Luke confessed.

“Luke you can do this!” Anakin steadied his son’s wavering confidence, “It’s just like Beggar's Canyon back home . . . just reach out, let the Force guide you, and take your shot.”

With his father’s steady presence and encouragement calming his nerves, Luke did as instructed.  He reached out to the Force and fired his proton torpedoes.

They flew straight and true . . . and hit their mark dead center.

“Great shot Luke!” Anakin cheered.

Over the com Luke gave out a whoop of triumph.

“Now pull up and clear the blast radius,” Anakin continued, as he himself gunned the Falcon away from the doomed space station.

As the Death Star exploded behind them, the Falcon and the surviving Rebel fighters all jumped to hyperspace.

---------------------------

Han was awake by the time Anakin set the Falcon down in the hangar on Yavin IV.  With Chewbacca supporting the roguish pilot, the five passengers disembarked.

Pandemonium reigned throughout the Rebel base.  Shouts of triumph filled the large chamber as the Rebels celebrated the end of the long war and their hard won victory.

Off to one side and away from the crowd, Anakin saw a small group with tear stained cheeks sharing a moment of quieter joy.  Galen Erso stood between his daughter Jyn and the brave pilot Bodhi, visibly relieved that his life’s work—the creation and destruction of the Death Star—was now complete.

In the center of the mayhem Rebellion hero, Luke Skywalker, was climbing out of his X-wing.  His family quickly made their way through the throng towards him, with Leia running on ahead.  Anakin’s fatherly heart swelled as he watched Leia throw her arms around her brother, who picked her up and spun her around—both twins looking happier than Anakin had ever seen them before.

“Dad! I did it!” Luke called as he rushed over to embrace his father.

“Yes, you did,” Anakin replied, putting a hand on his shoulder after they separated, “And I am very proud of you, Luke.”

Anakin smiled down at his son, and Luke’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Beside them, Han suddenly became more woozy, and Chewbacca roared.

“And right now we need to get this lot to medical. Luke, you get Artoo unloaded and make sure he’s okay, and I’ll find you later,” Anakin announced.

Anakin and Leia then quickly followed the Wookiee and staggering pilot toward the medbay.

Han was soon deposited on a cot, and a MD droid scanned and injected him with something that seemed to revive the cocky pilot.  Anakin then insisted that Leia be checked out after her recent ordeal.

“You and your baby are in perfect health,” the MD droid robotically informed her.

An awkward silence suddenly fell between them.

Whatever her own thoughts were about the life changing revelation, however, Leia set them aside to deal with the more pressing issue at hand.

“Um, Dad . . . We’re having a baby!” Leia announced with a faux smile and forced cheerfulness in anticipation of his reaction.

Anakin just looked at her for a moment before his eyes hardened into a glare that he unleashed on Captain Solo.

Still lying on a cot with one arm flung over his forehead, Han merely shrugged nonchalantly.

“We got married. What did you expect?” he said.

Anakin closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath.  Letting die the last visage of his unconscious hope that he would somehow not be stuck with Han Solo for a son-in-law—he accepted that Leia was truly her mother’s daughter and had at last decisively won their latest argument.

Without another word he turned on his heals and marched out of the medbay in search of Mon Mothma and Bail Organa.

Both senators owed him—big time—and it was time to collect.

He found the leaders of the Rebel Alliance in the otherwise empty command room sharing a moment alone as they clasped hands.

“Anakin!” Mon Mothma exclaimed, not fully releasing Bail’s hand even as she turned to greet him.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Anakin said.

“You aren’t,” Organa assured him.

“We were just wishing Breha-” Mon Mothma said, referencing Bail’s late wife whom he had mentioned to Anakin had succumbed to illness a few years back, “-and Padmé were here to see this day.”

“She would have been really happy,” Anakin replied, suddenly a bit choked up.

“We can’t thank you enough, Anakin,” Bail said.

“And having your and Padmé’s children here with us is such a blessing,” Mon Mothma added.

“So about that . . .” Anakin began, “I can’t take Leia back to Tatooine. There’s no life for her there.”

“If she has even a quarter of her mother’s talents, Anakin, we’ll need her as we build a New Republic,” Bail said, once more slipping into his more formal role of Senator Organa.

“Bail, I think she has all of them,” Anakin said before adding, “But she did just get married and is now expecting.”

Senator Organa looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

“There’s a young woman named Winter who has been part of my household since she was a child.  I think she would make an excellent aid and companion for Leia.  With her help Leia could both raise her family and work in the New Republic Senate—if she’s interested.”

“I think Leia would like that,” Anakin said.

With the decisiveness Anakin had come to expect from the other man, Bail Organa exited to immediately begin making arrangements, and left the former Jedi alone with the leader of the Rebellion.

“I think Leia would appreciate it if the offer came from you,” Anakin said to the other senator.

“But of course. It would be my great pleasure,” Mon Mothma replied, before asking, “By the way Anakin, what are you going to do now?”

It was a legitimate question.  With Palpatine gone, Anakin could officially come out of hiding, and conceivably go anywhere and do anything.

He was a bit surprised, therefore, that his initial reaction was to reflexively look at Mon Mothma like she had two heads.

“I’m going home,” he replied.

Because that’s what, Anakin realized, he wanted more than anything—to get back to his boring life on Tatooine.

“Then I’ll get you a ship,” she told him.

With that Mon Mothma too headed off, and Anakin went in search of Luke.  He was soon aided in his quest to find his son by running into Artoo—who was apparently looking for Anakin.

“You okay buddy?” Anakin asked, resting a hand on his domed head.

The droid twittered an affirmative.

“Thank you, Artoo—for everything,” Anakin said.

The loyal astromech responded to his beloved master with a series of happy beeps.

With Artoo’s help, Anakin quickly found Luke sitting on a supply crate.

. . . talking to Master Yoda.

“Dad! Master Yoda says I’m strong with the Force!” Luke exclaimed.

“Of course he did. Now why don’t you and Artoo go check on your sister?” Anakin replied.

Luke smiled at Master Yoda before obediently heading off, the little astromech rolling behind him.  Anakin watched them go.

The second Luke was out of earshot Anakin crossed his arms and whirled around to glare at the little Jedi Grandmaster.

“Master Yoda, I’m not giving you my kid!” Anakin declared.

“Refounded the Jedi Order must be,” Master Yoda replied.

“No, it mustn’t—and certainly not with my son!” Anakin hissed, “You do realize a large part of why Palpatine was able to talk me into helping him wipe out the Order in the first place was my determination to keep Luke away from the Jedi!”

“Understand I do if train him yourself you wish to,” Master Yoda replied, “Your instruction would benefit all the New Jedi—not only in the ways of the Force, but also in the importance of family bonds and attachments.”

“Family bonds and attachments?” Anakin asked incredulously.

Anakin could not decide if he was more surprised that Master Yoda apparently wanted him to help refound the Jedi Order after what he’d done, or to hear the Jedi Grandmaster expound upon the importance of ‘family bonds and attachments.’

“Told you before did I—long have I meditated on my failure,” Master Yoda said in reply.

Anakin stared down at the little Jedi Grandmaster, who had just rescued him and saved his family.

Master Yoda was looking up at him with a deep patience and calm the younger Force user did not recall him previously having—and which Anakin now found more than a little annoying.

Finally, Anakin could tolerate Yoda’s serene gaze no longer and sighed.  He could not believe what he was about to say.

“Master Yoda, my youngest is only six and my family needs me on Tatooine . . . but I’ll see if Obi-Wan will come help you . . . and Luke.”

“My thanks you have, Anakin,” Master Yoda replied happily.

“As you have mine, Master Yoda,” Anakin replied with a slight bow.

The fastest route back to the base’s medbay took Anakin through the hangar . . . and past the Falcon.

Stopping, he looked up at the ship.

On the outside the Falcon still strongly resembled a piece of junk.  But Anakin now knew that appearances were quite deceiving when it came to the remarkable ship.

Kind of like Han Solo.

In that moment Anakin finally accepted that, as usual, Ahsoka was right.

No matter how different the circumstances or how many more eligible men crossed her path, there was literally no other version of Leia’s life where she didn’t end up with someone exactly like the scoundrel of a smuggler—or more likely still end up with kiffing Han Solo himself.

Because Leia was always going to end up in politics and married to Han, with Luke becoming a Jedi and starfighter pilot.

Accepting the inevitability of destiny, Anakin let go of his kids.

Upon reentering the medbay, Anakin found that his son-in-law was alone—and that the sobering reality that he was now a father appeared to have finally caught up with him.

“I know what you think of me—that I’m a disreputable smuggler who’ll never be good enough for her,” Han quietly admitted to Anakin, “But I really do love her.”

In Han, Anakin suddenly saw a vulnerability and need for fatherly approval that he himself could relate to all too well.

“I don’t dislike you because you’re a smuggler,” Anakin said, finally admitting to himself another truth.

“I don’t like you because you’re me from twenty years ago,” he clarified.

Han looked up at him with a new intensity, but uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut.

“I eloped with Leia’s mother, and wrecked my first marriage by never being home, not putting my family first, and using the war as an excuse to do any reckless foolhardy thing that passed through my brain,” Anakin told him before pointedly asking, “Can you honestly tell me you’re not off to a great start repeating that?”

Han looked down at his boots as Anakin kept going.

“If you really love my daughter then you need to change.  Grow up, stop being selfish, and take care of her.”

Han said nothing, and Anakin continued.

“And let me tell you—Leia’s ambitious. There’s no way she is going to be content doing nothing more than flying around with you in the Falcon. She’s going to be a rising star in the Senate soon.  And if you love her you’re going to have to be supportive.”

Still Han made no reply and kept his eyes downcast.

“Do you think you can do that?” Anakin demanded.

Raising his gaze to his father-in-law’s, Han bit his lip and nodded.

“Good,” Anakin declared, before turning to leave the room.

At the door he turned back to his roguish son-in-law.

“By the way . . . it’s on the underside of the third aft smuggling compartment portside,” Anakin said, at last disclosing the whereabouts of the contentious homing beacon that had actually done a lot to save the day.

“But I looked there!” Han exclaimed.

“Clearly not hard enough,” Anakin replied over his shoulder as he walked away.

While Mon Mothma was making arrangements for a new ship so he could go home, Anakin went in search of Captain Andor and Kay to impart his thanks and say farewell.

Anakin eventually found a visibly sulking Kay.  The droid’s gaze was transfixed by something . . . which Anakin soon saw was Captain Andor celebrating the destruction of the Death Star by passionately kissing Jyn Erso.

Sidling up to his lumbering travel companion, Anakin coughed unsubtly and the droid looked down.

“Given the extremely high probability of your death, I was not expecting to see you again, Anakin Skywalker,” Kay said in greeting.

“Yes, well I enjoy defying the odds,” Anakin replied conversationally, before adding, “I was hoping to thank you and Cassian for everything. If you could please pass it along when he’s . . . less busy.”

Kay just looked at him blankly, and for some unfathomable reason Anakin felt compelled to try one more time to have a successful exchange with the cantankerous droid.

“You must be happy to be back with Cassian,” he said.

“Unfortunately, that is not entirely true,” Kay replied morosely.

“The organic of my recent acquaintance whom I like least is by far Jyn Erso.  By my calculation there is now a 15,217 to 1 probability that I will now have to endure her presence on a regular basis,” he elaborated.

From the look of things, Anakin suspected that the odds were a lot higher than that and Kay was deliberately lowballing out of wishful thinking.

Having to deal with a lot of difficult changes himself these days, Anakin felt for the droid.

“Don’t worry Kay,” Anakin said jovially, “I’m sure you’ll be willing to die for her in no time.”

“I do not share your optimism, Anakin Skywalker,” Kay said as he lumbered away.

Oh well.

Soon Mon Mothma had everything ready for Anakin’s departure, and the former Jedi went in search of his family to say goodbye. He was more than a little surprised to find them all assembled by the ship to see him off.

Anakin also arrived to find that Han and Leia were in the midst of a heated argument while awaiting his arrival.

“Leia, if we have a boy we are not naming him ‘Obi-Wan,’” Han declared.

“But that’s who I want to name him after!” Leia insisted.

“No,” Han emphatically told her.

Oh buddy . . .

Having unsuccessfully told Leia ‘no’ for nearly two decades, Anakin knew that Captain Solo was in for an education.

In that moment, however, Anakin decided to take pity on his son-in-law.

“Obi-Wan’s code name in the Jedi was ‘Ben,’” Anakin told his daughter as he came up behind them.

“Ben,” Leia tried out the sound before exclaiming, “Oh, I love it!”

Seeing that the Rebellion grounds crew was almost done loading the supplies Mon Mothma was gifting him to take home, Anakin turned to the small group.

With his hands resting as usual on his still fake cane, Master Yoda gave him a nod, which Anakin respectfully mirrored.

Luke then surged forward to embrace his father.

“Thank you for everything, Dad,” Luke said.

“I’m proud of you Luke,” Anakin again told his son as he caressed the side of Luke’s head, “I’ll come by to check in on you again soon.”

He then bid farewell to Artoo—who was staying with Luke at Anakin’s insistence.

And last but certainly not least, Anakin turned his attention to the wayward lovebirds, who had gotten him into this mess.

Leia rushed forward, and Anakin bent down to embrace her as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh Dad! . . . I love you!” she exclaimed with heartfelt gratitude.

“I love you too Leia,” he told her as he held her close for several heartbeats.

Anakin then regarded his son-in-law with considerably less enthusiasm.

“I spoke to Senator Organa,” Han said, “He’s getting me a position with the shipping and commerce committee in the new government so that I can be there for Leia while she’s working in the Senate—and our family.”

Anakin looked at the younger man with a new degree of respect, happy to hear he had found such a practical way to support Leia in her desire to do something more with her life.

Anakin reached a hand out, and Han gratefully shook it.

The cocky pilot’s face fell fractionally, however, when his father-in-law did not let go.

“If you ever hurt or leave her, I will hunt you down, Solo.  I don’t care if you try flying through an asteroid field to get away from me—I will find you,” Anakin declared with frightening intensity.

“Yes sir,” Han replied, his own tone uncharacteristically respectful and chagrinned.

Anakin finally released him, but as he walked up the gangplank he briefly turned back and grumbled, “And pay off Jabba! I expect you to bring my daughter and grandchild to visit without having to shoot bounty hunters off your back!”

Han gave him an awkward wave in response.

“Bye Dad!” Leia called.

“Be good, Princess—and be happy,” Anakin replied.

With a last smile to his family, he boarded the ship, lifted off, and headed back to Tatooine.

Chapter Text

After landing the ship without crashing, Anakin walked down the gangplank to embrace the welcome sight of endless miles of sand.

The familiar landscape was soon rendered even more stunning by the sight of his beautiful wife sprinting towards him.  In a move reminiscent of their reunion on Tatooine all those years ago, Ahsoka took a flying leap into his arms.

Anakin again managed to catch her and stay on his feet as she wrapped her legs around his waist and flung her arms around his neck.  This time, however, she kissed him—hard—and it was several minutes before they broke apart and he set her down.

“Ahsoka . . .” Anakin said as he looked down at her adoringly.

“Anakin, I’m so glad you’re home safe,” Ahsoka replied, reaching up to caress his face.

Eventually, Ahsoka’s focus expanded beyond her husband, and she took a closer look at the freighter behind him.

“Wait—what happened to the ship you left in?” Ahsoka asked, her eye’s narrowing.

“I got shot down over the Rebel base, and had to make a crash landing,” Anakin answered.

“Of course you did,” she replied dryly with a slight roll of her eyes.

Ahsoka then used the Force to probe inside the ship . . . the empty ship.

“Where are the twins?” she asked next.

“I let them stay behind,” Anakin told her.

That one earned him a pair of extremely raised eyebrows.  Ahsoka knew better than anyone the depths of Anakin’s overprotectiveness, and the fact that he had not dragged both Luke and Leia home by the scruff of their necks was truly shocking.

“Well, the war is over,” Anakin told her as explanation for his loosened grip.

“Of course it is,” she replied as her eyes again narrowed in suspicion.

Ahsoka also knew that it was unlikely a startling coincidence that Anakin Skywalker had flown off in search of his daughter and his return just happened to coincide with the end of the two decades long Galactic Civil War.

There was no time for her to inquire about the details of his no doubt eventful trip, however, as a second ship landed next to the Skywalker family’s new one—and Captain Rex disembarked.

The Clone trooper had not been there to see Anakin off on Yavin IV because he was preparing to come with his former General.  Anakin, after all, had promised Master Yoda that he would ask Obi-Wan to come help him refound the Jedi Order, and the second ship would hopefully be taking the former Jedi Master back to lend his expertise and assistance.

That Rex insisted on flying it out was just an added bonus.

With a loud cry of joy, Ahsoka ran over to Rex and threw her arms around him.  He returned her embrace and his face broke into his trademark wide grin.  After breaking apart, the former Jedi Commander and Clone Captain just looked at each other in silence for several heartbeats.

Rex and Ahsoka shared a bond that Anakin knew he would never fully understand or be a part of—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The former Jedi General was long indebted to his Captain for innumerable events over the long Clone Wars.  But in saving Ahsoka’s life during the Purge, Anakin knew that the Clone had saved his life as well.  He owed Rex his wife, his younger children, his happy family—everything.

“What will you do now that the war is over?” Ahsoka finally asked.

“Really hadn’t gotten that far, to be honest . . . For starters, wanted to come see with my own eyes that you were alright,” Rex replied.

“Well Rex,” Anakin said as he put an arm around Ahsoka’s shoulders, knowing in what he said next he spoke for her as well, “If you don’t mind the sand—welcome home!”

In response a look of unbridled joy and peace came over Rex’s face.

And with that what remained of the 501^st was back together again.

Soon the other occupants of the homestead began emerging.

“Dad!” the three youngest Skywalkers cried in unison as they ran at full tilt towards their father.

Plo reached him first, and Anakin swept him up into his arms.  Rex was helping Shaak, but quickly tired of her slow pace.  Picking up his little sister, the teen sprinted the rest of the way.

Soon Anakin was embracing all of his children at once, and the four of them were crying.

Rex had passed Shaak into their father’s arms, and as their tears subsided his mother called to him.

“Rex, sweetheart, will you please come over here,” Ahsoka asked.

Still holding his two youngest, Anakin turned to watch as his son walked over to her and the Clone trooper.

Once he arrived she put a hand on his shoulder, and turned back to the Clone.

“Rex, this is my oldest son,” Ahsoka said, her voice full of emotion.

“This is Captain Rex of the 501^st Legion,” she continued the introductions, “He’s incredibly important to both your father and I, and he’s the man you’re named after.”

Watching the Rexes take each other in, Anakin suddenly found himself a bit choked up.  He could also see Ahsoka’s eyes had suddenly become quite glassy.

Even while standing ‘at ease’ the Clone Captain had the most impressive and commanding posture the adolescent had ever seen, and Anakin watched his son stand up much straighter.

“Pleasure to meet you, lad,” Rex the Captain said with a wide grin and an outstretched hand.

“Likewise, sir,” Rex the Skywalker replied as he reached out a hand of his own.

As the two Rexes shook hands, a tear slipped out of the corner of Ahsoka’s eye.  Seeing it, the Clone wrapped an arm around her and gave her a squeeze as Ahsoka wiped it away.

By that point Obi-Wan had reached them.

“Anakin—thank the Force!” he exclaimed, gripping Anakin’s shoulder in relief.

Predictably, Obi-Wan soon bombarded the younger force user with all the same questions Ahsoka had, and responded with knowingly raised eyebrows at his former padawan’s typically ‘Anakin’ explanation of events.  Anakin was saved from his mentor being typically ‘Obi-Wan’ when the older man finally noticed Rex’s presence in the group.

While Obi-Wan too embraced the Clone Captain, Anakin greeted Owen, Beru, and their children who had all come out to meet him.

And last, but certainly not least, Threepio finally reached them after shuffling through the sand.

“Master Anakin you’re finally home! My joints have been frozen stiff with worry!” he declared.

The golden droid then took a look around.

“Where is Artoo?” he asked, his mechanical voice suddenly filled with its usual anxiety.

Uh oh.

“So, um, Threepio . . . Artoo is fine . . . but I did ask him to stay behind on Yavin IV with Luke,” Anakin replied, internally cringing at the droid’s likely response.

The golden protocol droid’s disappointment and pique at his feelings not being considered in such a monumental decision were everything Anakin anticipated.

“Oh!” Threepio replied in morose indignation, before turning in a huff and shuffling away.

Everyone soon began following the incensed droid back inside.

Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Rex continued their boisterous exchange as they walked, while the Clone Captain’s namesake listened attentively.

Anakin brought up the rear, still holding Plo and Shaak.  With their heads on his shoulders, both children had their eyes closed and rested securely in their father’s embrace.

As he came level with Padmé’s grave, Anakin stopped.  Turning his head towards her tombstone, he gave her a wink.  In response he got the impression that she too was grateful he was again home safe.

“Hey grandma,” he informed her with a smirk.

“Wait? What!” Padmé excitedly exclaimed.

“And beyond that, your daughter is headed off to no doubt become a big shot in the New Republic Senate,” Anakin added, “Mon Mothma and Bail Organa keep telling her you would be proud of her.

“I am proud of her,” Padmé replied.

“I’ll make sure she knows that,” Anakin assured his late wife.

-----------------

In a happy happenstance, Ahsoka and the younger Rex had gone hunting that very day.  The freshly killed Eopie they brought back, combined with the provisions Anakin had returned with, was a feast fit for the ensuing celebration.

Anakin eventually had a chance to talk more with Obi-Wan about the resurrection of the Jedi.

“Can you please go help Master Yoda set up the new Order and make sure he doesn’t teach Luke anything weird,” Anakin asked Obi-Wan.

“Such as?” his mentor asked sardonically.

“Literally anything from the Jedi Code,” Anakin replied.

After Obi-Wan was done laughing he agreed to go.

It then struck the two friends that they would no longer be seeing each other everyday.

“Obi-Wan, thank you for everything,” Anakin said, extending his hand to his dear friend.

“It has been my pleasure, Anakin. A life spent with you has been a life well spent,” he replied before turning their handshake into an embrace.

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll bring Ahsoka and all the kids to visit in a few weeks,” Anakin told him.

“I look forward to it,” Obi-Wan replied.

The party was quite boisterous, and everyone on the homestead was in a jubilant mood.

Well almost everyone.

The news that Artoo was fine but had stayed behind to be Luke’s astromech had left Threepio in a state of unrelenting despondency.  For Anakin, his droid’s current insufferable mopeyness quickly became a major killjoy.

“Threepio, why don’t you go to Chandrila and help Leia in the New Republic Senate?” Anakin said in a flash of inspiration.

“You can see Artoo more often, get out of the sand, and put to use some of the six million forms of communication that my eight-year-old self somehow thought it was a good idea to program you with.”

To Anakin’s relief, Threepio was immediately delighted with the idea.

“Thank the maker!” exclaimed the suddenly ecstatic droid.

“You’re welcome,” Anakin replied.

In one of her many Padmé-like traits Leia was actually very fond of Threepio, and Anakin knew she would be delighted to see him.

Han Solo—who did not like droids and refused to bring an astromech aboard his falling apart ship—was a different story.

Han Solo, who Anakin realized, had not yet had the pleasure of meeting the ‘unique’ droid.

“Threepio, tell Han that ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get him and Leia a wedding gift sooner’ and ‘welcome to the family,’” Anakin said in another stroke of genius.

“Of course, Master Anakin,” the droid replied with the formality befitting the entrustment of such an important message.

For all his millions of forms of communication, Threepio still didn’t understand subtlety or sarcasm.  Anakin knew the droid had taken his words at face value and would relay them with his usual cheerful over-exuberance.

The Force user wished he could see the expression on his roguish son-in-law’s face when Threepio showed up on their doorstep with the intent to move in.

For his part, Anakin was now sporting a wicked grin.

As hungry as he was, Anakin didn’t end up eating as much as he wanted.  Feeding himself would have required letting go of either Plo or Shaak, who each ate perched on one of his knees and were now asleep against his chest.

Ahsoka eventually took pity on him.  After cutting up a steak, she sent a fork with a piece of meat on it across the table through the Force.

Anakin looked deeply into her eyes as he ate in a manner that would have made thirteen-year-old Rex groan in the way he did when he walked in on his parents kissing.  The adolescent was thankfully engrossed in listening to stories from the Clone Wars with which his namesake and Obi-Wan were currently regaling him.

For her part Ahsoka just rolled her eyes in mock exasperation and told him, “You’re impossible.”

She kept the bites coming, however, until the whole piece of Eopie was gone.

Soon the festivities began to wind down, and while Beru and Ahsoka made sure Rex was comfortable in Luke’s room, Anakin tucked Shaak and Plo into their beds.  He then headed to his own room, where Ahsoka was again sitting up waiting for him.

After sliding into bed—at last his own bed—Anakin held his wife's lightsabers out to her.

“I took care of them. They’re good as new . . . maybe a little better,” Anakin said, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

With his choice of words, Anakin deliberately took them back to the last time he gave Ahsoka her lightsabers back—along with Rex and half of the 501^st before she headed off to take Mandalore back from Maul.  Anakin recalled with a jolt, that had almost been the last time he’d seen her, and his heart briefly constricted at the memory after his recent near miss at losing her again.

Anakin wrapped his hands around Ahsoka’s as she took back her lightsabers, and for a few moments they just silently looked at each other—remembering not only that shared memory but also thinking back on their life together.

Their love for each other had been different back then, but no less strong.

Anakin gave Ahsoka’s hands a squeeze before finally letting go. 

“They also had quite an adventure,” he informed her.

“Did they now,” she replied.

Ahsoka returned the sabers to their place next to her blaster in her nightstand, before turning back to Anakin with the sense of anticipation of hearing all about it.  Anakin did not disappoint, and his Skywalker flare for the dramatic was alive and well in his lengthy narrative.  For her part, his wife laughed and exclaimed in all the right places, and her responses were typically ‘Ahsoka.’

“Good grief, Anakin,” she told him with a predictable roll of her eyes upon hearing of his arrival on Yavin IV in the inevitably doomed ship.

He told her about reuniting with Rex, finding Leia, Mon Mothma roping him into finding Bail Organa and Master Yoda, and of course Kay.

“Oh, I have to meet this droid!” Ahsoka declared of her husband’s salty travel companion.

“Oh, trust me, it’s quite an experience,” Anakin assured her.

He then told her about his perfect blind landing on Dagobah.

“I don’t believe you,” Ahsoka emphatically declared.

“I told Kay you’d say that,” he replied in mock indignation.

When Anakin told her of his interactions with his new son-in-law she laughed so hard her eyes watered.

Ahsoka visibly paled, however, when she heard about Palpatine, and clutched Anakin’s hand tightly even though he was sitting right next to her.

“Oh Anakin, how did you get away?” she whispered in horror.

“Master Yoda saved me,” he told her.

“Master Yoda saved you?!” replied Ahsoka—who had plenty of her own issues with Master Yoda.

“He changed,” Anakin answered simply.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Anakin completed his story with Palpatine’s death and the destruction of the Death Star, followed by his finally conceding the inevitable, and sending a pregnant Leia and her roguish husband off with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, and letting Luke stay with Master Yoda and the fledgling new Jedi Order.

“Well Anakin, it sounds like my lightsabers did indeed have quite an exciting time! But I’m much happier having them back safe,” Ahsoka said.

She drew closer to him without letting go of his hand.

“And even with having Rex around, between Obi-Wan and the twins gone, we’re going to need some more help around here. We should get to work on that,” Ahsoka added suggestively.

“Oh, I completely agree,” Anakin replied, reaching out through the Force to lock the door.

As much as he had always loved adventure and excitement, Anakin Skywalker had to admit that he much preferred being home.

The End