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“I have little doubt this boy is the offspring of Anakin Skywalker.”
Vader pulled the room apart at the seams as his thoughts raged around the Emperor’s words. I… have a son? How is this possible? The Emperor spoke the truth, and I cannot deny I felt a connection to the boy, but… how?
Padmé… how can this be? I thought you’d perished. I thought I had killed you, and yet… yet you brought forth a son. Did my master lie?
I must find him. I will tell Luke who he is, who I am. I must. He is the only remnant of her. I cannot let it go.
===
Before the shuttle landed, Vader sensed his son’s approaching presence. Reaching closer, he could sense the boy’s resolve. Resolve of what, Vader could not yet determine, but he had little doubt whatever his son was scheming would not matter. Not in the face of the Emperor.
Vader crossed the landing dock with his escorts, the door on the other end sliding up to reveal an officer, and Luke in handcuffs.
“This is the rebel that surrendered to us,” reported the officer. “Although he denies it, I believe there may be more of them—”
Luke stepped up next to the officer, pointedly focusing his gaze through Vader’s lenses. The Sith lord reached for Luke’s mind, finding his intentions laid bare.
“—conduct a search of the area.” The officer held up a silvery hilt. “He was armed only with this.
Vader redirected his attention, “Good work, Commander,” he droned, taking the lightsaber hilt. “Leave us. Conduct your search and bring his companions to me.”
“Yes, my lord.” The officer and troopers vacated the scene.
Purposing to keep the situation under his control, Vader turned for the shuttle bay. His son followed without comment or resistance. “The Emperor has been expecting you,” said Vader.
“I know, Father.” Luke responded.
Something twinged in Vader’s core. Luke was no longer the hapless, naive child he’d cornered above Sky City. He’d matured. He carried himself with the serenity of a Jedi Knight, and his thoughts betrayed nothing, perfectly controlled. Here was a son to be proud of. But the way he said ‘Father’...
“So, you have accepted the truth.”
“I’ve accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father.”
The rage returned. Vader halted Luke with the lightsaber hilt. “That name… no longer has any meaning for me.”
Luke remained unwavered. “It is the name of your true self. You’ve only forgotten. I know there is good in you.”
Again, something twinged.
“The Emperor hasn’t driven it from you fully.” Luke’s mind ghosted across Vader’s, catching the flickers of apprehension the Sith didn’t reign in. “That was why you couldn’t destroy me. That’s why you won’t bring me to your emperor now.”
You assume incorrectly, my son, Vader thought. He turned his attention to the lightsaber. The weapon ignited and a brilliant green blade came forth. It was new, not one from any of the old masters. “I see you have constructed a new lightsaber,” Vader observed. He noted the sparks of anxiety from Luke’s mind, the boy likely recalling the last time he faced Vader, unarmed in more than one way.
“Your skills are complete,” said the Sith, sheathing the saber. He stepped away from Luke and mused more to himself than the boy. “Indeed you are powerful, as the emperor has foreseen.”
This was good. Luke was strong. If he turned, he could strike down both Vader and the Emperor. A shame Vader would not see the aftermath, but it would be a glorious victory, would it not?
Luke purposefully directed his thoughts toward his father. Vader knew Luke’s request even before it was uttered. Go with Luke? No. That would be impossible.
In many ways, the boy was still just that. A boy. A boy with childish beliefs that anyone could be redeemed, could repent and walk a path of light. Such sentiments… “Obi-wan once thought as you do.” Vader abruptly severed the mental thread. “You don’t know the power of the dark side. I must obey my master.”
Luke shook his head, trying to retie the connection. “I will not turn, and you’ll be forced to kill me.” And that is not something you are capable of, his final thought wedged its way into Vader’s awareness.
The Sith lord brushed it away. “If that is your destiny.”
“Search your feelings, Father,” Luke pleaded. “You can’t do this. I feel the conflict within you, let go of your hate!”
Vader let their minds reach each other, through which he sent a wave of resolution. “It is… too late for me, son. The emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master, now.”
Though his face remained stoic, Luke’s mind echoed with pangs of deep pity. “Then my father is truly dead.”
As the troopers led Luke away, Vader remained on the bridge, lingering threads of Luke’s feelings sending long-forgotten ghosts through the Sith’s mind.
He meant what he said in Sky City, about ruling as father and son. But if any of Luke’s words came to be true…. Vader didn’t like the outcomes he saw.
He wanted to live. He wanted his son to live. He wanted to live not just as a master with his learner, but as a father with his son.
The Force help him. Vader hoped his son would make the right choice.
Luke remained as silent as his thoughts. The only things Vader detected from him were flickers of interest and concern as they boarded the new Death Star and entered the elevator leading to the Emperor’s throne room.
The door slid open. Luke’s feelings sparked with determination and dread as he spotted the crimson-clad guards and the throne at the top of the stairs. Vader held back all emotion. He and Luke crossed the dark room and climbed the stairs.
The chair turned around. “Welcome, young Skywalker,” sneered the Emperor. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Luke peered at the hooded figure defiantly.
The Emperor lifted a finger. “You no longer need those.”
The cuffs on Luke’s wrists clicked open and clattered to the floor. Luke flexed his hands, a fleeting thought of charging at the Emperor amusing Vader. Who did this child think he was?
“Guards, leave us,” the Emperor commanded. The guards obeyed, disappearing behind the elevator pillar. “I’m looking forward to completing your training. In time, you will call me Master.”
“You are gravely mistaken,” Luke declared.
Vader glanced at the young man with a mote of curiosity.
“You won’t convert me like you did my father.”
Do not be so sure, my son, Vader thought.
The Emperor stood and approached the two, and Luke resolutely held his ground against the evil visage. “Oh, no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is you who are mistaken… about a great many things.”
Vader took a step forward and presented a silver hilt to his master. “His lightsaber.”
“Ah yes,” said the Emperor as he took it. “A Jedi’s weapon. Much like your father's.” His eyes turned to Luke’s. “By now you must know your father can never be turned from the dark side. So will it be with you.”
Luke’s thoughts grazed across Vader’s, but the Sith kept them hidden. Hope was out of the question.
“You're wrong,” said Luke. “Soon I'll be dead...and you with me.”
Alarm sparked through Vader’s mind before he had a chance to stop it. He knew of the Rebel attack, but he didn’t think Luke was expecting to perish here. Though perhaps it was inevitable. Luke was one man against the Emperor. Jedi or not, he didn’t stand a chance. It was his destiny.
The Emperor laughed. “Perhaps you refer to the imminent attack of your Rebel fleet?”
Luke’s head turned sharply. Vader sensed distress. The Emperor grinned. “Yes… I assure you we are quite safe from your friends here.”
Vader looked at Luke while the boy reigned in his thoughts and kept face. “Your overconfidence is your weakness.”
“Your faith in your friends is yours!” the Emperor snapped.
“It is pointless to resist, my son.” Vader told him. Luke spared him a side glance and a flicker of defiance.
The Emperor let anger boil over. “Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design.” He indicated Endor. “Your friends up there on the Sanctuary Moon—” Luke reacted and the Emperor noticed “—are walking into a trap. As is your Rebel fleet! It was I who allowed the Alliance to know the location of the shield generator. It is quite safe from your pitiful little band. An entire legion of my best troops awaits them!”
Vader can almost hear the panic in Luke’s pulse. The boy’s gaze darted from the Emperor, to Vader, then to the lightsaber hilt in the Emperor’s hand.
“Oh, I’m afraid the deflector shield will be quite operational when your friends arrive.”
As if on cue, a myriad of cruisers and fighters dropped out of hyperspace. Rebel fighters and the Millenium Falcon led the charge for the armada as they bore down on their target. They noticed the shield was still up and began to veer away in desperate attempts to not slam headlong into it. Then the Imperial cruisers hedged them in. The trap was sprung. The Rebel army would not escape.
Vader didn’t need to sense Luke’s thoughts to know he was stressed; the tremor in his shoulders and the sweat beginning to bead his brow betrayed the feelings well enough.
The Emperor took his throne while Vader took his place beside his master. “Come boy, see for yourself.”
Luke did so, not out of compliance but in response to the anxiety coursing within him.
“From here you will witness the final destruction of the Alliance, and the end of your insignificant Rebellion.”
Vader felt the emotional torment in his son. In a way he understood it. He felt it too a long time ago. Soon would come the despair, then anger, then the deep hatred that would cement him in the dark side.
“You want this, don't you?” the Emperor crooned as he laid a hand on the lightsaber. “The hate is swelling in you now. Take your Jedi weapon. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant.”
“No!” Luke insisted. The agony within him begged otherwise.
“It is unavoidable. It is your destiny. You, like your father, are now mine!”
Vader didn’t want this. Not for his son. Wasn’t he supposed to be a new hope for the galaxy? Was this how the Jedi would finally die? It made Vader angry. But he wasn’t sure why.
A flare of plasma drew Luke’s attention. Vader sensed fear. Each Rebel ship that fireworked into pieces added to Luke’s despair. An X-wing slammed into the shield, exploding on impact.
Vader shut out Luke’s feelings. He didn’t understand. With every other foe he faced he relished in feeling every mote of their suffering, drawing it out to bathe in their agony, their hatred.
But the pain of this boy, the pain of his son… he couldn’t bear it. How did Luke strike so deeply with nothing but empathy?
Vader focused on keeping the thoughts at bay while the Emperor continued to taunt Luke. “As you can see, my young apprentice, your friends have failed. Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!” He clicked a comlink. “Fire at will, Commander.”
Shocked, Luke looked out across the Death Star and watched in horror as the indented dish glowed and spat a beam of death at a Rebel cruiser, reducing it to atoms in an instant.
Then the slaughter began. Imperial ships swept their full might across the Rebel fleet. They didn’t stand a chance.
The Emperor was delighted. “Your fleet has lost. And your friends on the Endor moon will not survive. There is no escape, my young apprentice. The Alliance will die… as will your friends.”
Luke turned to him, eyes sparking with rage.
Vader sighed to himself. It would not take much more. Luke would fall to the dark side and it would all be over.
He wasn’t sure why that disappointed him.
“Good. I can feel your anger. I am defenseless. Take your weapon! Strike me down with all your hatred, and your journey towards the dark side will be complete.”
Luke buckled. His lightsaber flew to his hand and ignited in an instant. Vader reacted an instant sooner. The red and green blades clashed in front of the Emperor.
Vader told himself he did it to save his master. Because he was loyal. Because he still wanted his master to survive even though the Emperor insisted Luke strike him down. Vader had felt his master’s words as much as he heard them. The Emperor wasn’t expecting to survive, yet Vader’s action had spared him.
Had Vader saved the Emperor from death, or saved his son from the dark side? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps both.
He looked at his son and saw something all too familiar boiling behind his eyes. Hate.
A voice that once belonged to him cried out in the recesses of his mind, begging his son to resist, to let go of the hate because it wasn’t worth the suffering!
Luke scraped his blade across Vader’s, breaking the lock and turning his focus to once again duel his father. The spat was brief. Luke had grown stronger since Bespin and the fight turned to his favor. Vader was forced on the defensive and lost his balance, staggering down the stairs. Luke looked down on him from above, ready to attack.
The Emperor laughed. “Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Let the hate flow through you.”
Luke threw a glare at him, then down at his father. Vader risked reaching out to sense Luke’s feelings. A moment of realization overcame him, then the hate dissolved along with the lightsaber blade. Luke straightened and relaxed, stepping back.
Vader rose. “Obi-Wan has taught you well.”
“I will not fight you, Father.”
I do not want to fight you! This is pointless! The voice again cried out from the dark. Vader silenced it. No matter how the remnants of his former self may feel, that was not who he was now. He was darkness. He was Sith. He was a father! And he had a duty. “You are unwise to lower your defenses.”
Vader attacked. Luke blocked. His mind reached for Vader’s as he leapt a superhuman leap to a catwalk above. “Your thoughts betray you, Father! I feel the good in you, the conflict.”
Vader did his best to seal up his mental defenses. “There is no conflict.”
“You couldn’t bring yourself to kill me before, and I don’t believe you’ll destroy me now.”
“You underestimate the power of the dark side.” That forgotten voice kept chipping away at the darkness within him. “If you will not fight, then you will meet your destiny.” He threw his lightsaber at the support beams and hauled the catwalk to the floor. Luke jumped clear and slid out of sight under the Emperor’s platform. Vader moved to follow as the Emperor laughed.
The low ceiling and semi-darkness would have hidden Luke well. Vader’s mask switched to thermal sight and the boy’s body heat became clear as day. “You cannot hide forever, Luke.”
“I will not fight you.”
I do not want to! Vader took an intentional moment to thrust that voice back into darkness. He couldn’t afford to falter now. He prodded at Luke’s mind. “Give yourself to the dark side. It is the only way you can save your friends.” Mention of them bared Luke’s feelings. “Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for…”
He paused. Luke gasped in the dark.
“Sister!” He had a daughter as well? “So… you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too.” Luke didn’t like that. “Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.”
“Never!” Luke roared. The rage returned, hotter than before. He rushed Vader in a frenzy, delivering blow after blow that lit up the cramped space with sparks. Vader retreated into the open, backing toward the bridge. He almost feared the blind hatred in Luke’s mind, hatred that blotted out every other thought.
Then a thought struck Vader. He was stronger than this boy. Why was he moving so slow? Where did his energy go? The attack was vicious but by no means spelled defeat for the Sith Lord. What was happening?
His knee met the floor. He caught sight of the Emperor standing before his throne, hands twitching. It… cannot be! This weight, the lack of strength… the Emperor was holding him down! Chaining him to an execution block with his son as the executioner.
Betrayed. He was betrayed! Master… why?! He promised Vader he would rule as emperor with his son by his side! But if Luke struck Vader down now… would the boy endure the same suffering Vader did under his master’s cruel hand? Would he eventually be betrayed as well?
Vader’s right hand was cleaved from his arm by Luke’s flashing blade. Vader fell, both from the weight of his betrayal and his master’s invisible chains. He lifted his other hand in a futile attempt to protect his heart as Luke lifted his lightsaber a final time.
“Good!” the Emperor goaded. “Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side!”
Vader reached for his son’s mind and, for the first time since they’d met, opened his own. My son. Please. Where is your hope?
Luke blinked. Focus returned. He looked at the smoking servo of Vader’s arm, then turned his attention to his own mechanical hand, gloved and gripped around his lightsaber. He found Vader’s eyes behind the dark lenses of his mask, pouring resolve and determination between them.
The lightsaber winked off. Luke stepped away from his father and—to Vader’s disbelief—tossed his lightsaber aside. “Never. I'll never turn to the dark side.” A small smile curled the edge of his mouth. “You've failed, Your Highness. I am a Jedi,” he nodded at Vader, “Like my father before me.”
The Emperor’s face fell from glee to anger. “So be it. Jedi.” He slowly descended the stairs, hands lifting toward Luke.
Vader’s heart pounded in his chest. His respirator betrayed his rising fear.
“If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed.”
Vader flinched as sparks ignited on the ends of the Emperor’s fingers. He knew what those sparks meant. He’d been on the receiving end more times than he cared to count. The metal in his body meant the electricity burned double. He was prepared for the bolts to strike him. Yet, to his realization and abject horror, they tore into Luke.
Leave him alone! Leave my son alone!
For once, Vader didn’t feel like silencing the voice. The invisible weights had lifted, so he struggled to his feet and stood at his master’s side.
Luke was screaming. He shrank beneath the lightning and fell to his knees.
“Young fool,” the Emperor crooned, “Only now, at the end, do you understand.” He struck Luke again.
Luke recoiled from the pain and fell against a pile of canisters at the edge of the walkway. Vader’s heart lurched as he noticed the canisters tip perilously over the edge. He reached out with the Force and nudged the objects upright, sparing them and his son from the fall.
The Emperor should have struck Vader down right then and there for the blatant act of treachery. Yet he didn’t seem to notice. “Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision. Do you not wish to stand at your father’s side?”
Luke wheezed from the floor and his arms shook as he pushed himself up. His clothes smoked and the scent of burned flesh hung in the air. “I will stand… with Anakin Skywalker. I will die before I stand with Darth Vader.” Vader heard the question in his mind, though he wasn’t sure if it was his voice or Luke’s. “So who are you?”
“Then, young Skywalker. You will die.”
Luke feebly raised his hand in an effort to shield or deflect the lightning, but it didn’t matter. The bolts tore through him, burning holes in his clothes and leaving charred lines in his skin. He screamed and writhed in agony. Even the noise of the lightning wasn’t enough to drown out his wails.
Then the unthinkable. Luke lifted his hand through the unbearable pain. He reached out to Vader. “Father, please!” In that moment, Vader didn’t see only Luke. He saw Padmé. He heard her plea as Luke reached with both body and mind. “Help me!”
Luke was going to die. The last precious gift that Padmé gave to the world, gave to Anakin, was about to be destroyed. Could he truly stand by and let that happen? Darth Vader would. Would Anakin?
He is my son. That voice now sounded familiar. Like his own. That man is killing my son and yet I stand here like a fool! He looked at the Emperor. He summoned the hate that came so easily. He seized the dark robes before he had a chance to realize what he was doing. Those awful bolts ripped through him but he didn’t care. For once, he had something more than himself that was worth suffering for.
With a mighty heave, the Emperor was cast over the railing and fell into the abyss. Powerful as he was, he was still a man subject to the laws of gravity. His grating scream was cut short as his body atomized.
Vader—... no. Anakin unhooked his arm from the railing where he’d collapsed. The lightning did a number on his suit and prosthetic limbs. He sat back on his hands and knees, trying to catch his permanently short breath.
He did it. The Emperor was dead. His son was saved.
He… was saved, right? Anakin wasn’t too late, was he? The man looked up where Luke lay. The boy was too still.
Despite the shorting metal legs, Anakin hauled himself toward his son. “Luke!” He knelt beside him and laid his intact hand on Luke’s chest. A zap of electricity met his fingers. He brought up his other arm and manifested an invisible hand from the Force which he then slipped past Luke’s skin and into his heart.
There was too much electricity. His heart wasn’t beating right and he wasn’t getting air. Anakin felt around for the excess electricity and coaxed it up into his own far more conductive arms. Once done, he gently squeezed the organ in what he hoped was a normal rhythm. To his relief it began beating on its own.
Beneath him, Luke gave a few short pants then gasped for air. Anakin set a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Breathe, my son.”
Luke caught his breath but stayed on the floor. He lifted his head to look for the Emperor, then laid back down when he didn’t see him. “What happened?”
“The Emperor is gone.”
“I gathered that, but what happened?”
“I… I heard you. When you cried out, I heard you, and I heard your mother.” Luke’s eyes widened but he stayed silent. “To die at the hand of the Emperor, it was your destiny. And I threw it over the railing.”
Luke scoffed, then laughed. His grin turned into a scowl as he curled in on himself. “Ow, ow, ow.”
Anakin hovered his hand over Luke’s body. Burns littered his skin. Wounds leaked blood into the torn and singed fabric of his clothes. He would need a bacta tank if he was going to evade permanent scarring.
The station rumbled. “Luke, you must go.”
“You’re right.” Luke found his feet and grabbed his father’s arm. “We must.”
“I cannot,” Anakin protested. “My suit… my body is near collapse. I will only be dead weight.”
“Then I’ll drag you, come on!” Luke’s own strength plus a pull from the Force hauled Anakin to his feet. He struggled to keep upright with his legs barely functional, but managed. “Wait.” He yanked a silver hilt from the floor with the Force and pressed the lightsaber to Luke’s chest. “A Jedi must always keep guard over his lightsaber.”
Luke smiled and clipped it to his belt.
The two shuffled into the lift and Luke hit the button for the hangar.
Anakin’s head hung. He felt both his life and consciousness slipping away. “Luke, I cannot—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“It was my anger, my hate that sustained me. I hated the Emperor. I hated the thought of being forced to kill you. But now I have returned to the light, and… I have little to hate.”
“Then if you must, hate what will happen if you die. If you give up now, the Emperor will still have taken from you. You’ll never get to know me or teach me. You’ll never get to meet your daughter, we’ll never get to rebuild. ‘As father and son,’ you told me. Don’t you still want that?”
Anakin managed a derisive chuckle. “I believe… what you just described… was love.”
“Is it enough?”
If he was being honest with himself, Anakin wasn’t expecting to get this far. He could happily die in the light, as Anakin Skywalker, knowing his son was alive and able to usher in a new era for the galaxy.
Yet… his son wanted him here. It was nothing short of a miracle that brought him into the light. Maybe he could pull off one more miracle and survive long enough to see that light bloom across the galaxy.
Perhaps love was enough. It was enough to bring his son (and daughter!) into the world. It was enough to pull him out of the darkness.
Yes. It would be enough.
The lift opened into the main hangar bay and the two hurriedly shambled for a shuttle. The station rocked with explosions from the Rebel armada.
Anakin collapsed on the shuttle ramp, taking Luke down with him. Luke hauled with all his might to get his father the rest of the way into the shuttle. Once in, Anakin shook off Luke’s hands. “Take off!”
Luke ran for the controls. Anakin stayed on the floor. He turned onto his back and tried to focus inward. He finally paid attention to the damage report his suit was chirping at him. There was hardly a system intact. His suit was dying along with him.
The doubt crept back in. If his respirator gave out, he wouldn’t have much of a choice about living or dying. He could sustain himself in the Force for a time, but since he wasn’t truly connected to either side at the moment, it would not be worth trying. He needed an entirely new body. Would the Rebels truly be so generous as to help a warlord on the verge of death? He wouldn’t put it past them to let him die. He knew Luke would help, but would that hurt his standing to return with the enemy? There was only his word that Anakin was who he claimed to be.
Anakin reached out through the Force, tapping at his son’s mind. He wasn’t going to make it. He wanted a few words before that happened.
Luke rushed over and slid to Anakin’s side. “Hold on, Father, hold on!”
“Luke…”
“I’m not giving up yet, not when we’ve come so far!”
“You have nothing to prove, Luke.”
“That’s not what this is about, I… I don’t want to leave you. I have to save you!”
“You already have.”
“No…” Luke clutched at his head, tears shining in his eyes.
“Luke.”
The boy clutched a hand over his father’s heart. Anakin felt a familiar pull. “Luke, do not! Attempting to heal me will kill you! I am too deeply broken and you are not strong enough.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Stars, was this boy always so stubborn? Anakin reached up to stop Luke but was halted by the flood of energy pouring into him. It threaded through him like a living waterfall, feeling cold and warm and so full of life. The energy wound around his torso, through his lungs and heart, then washed up his throat and even to his head. By then he regained some presence of mind and became painfully aware that his son’s life force was rapidly slipping away. Anakin knocked his hand against Luke’s forehead, forcing him unconscious. Luke’s eyes rolled up and Anakin caught him before his head hit the floor.
Anakin checked for life signs, counting another small miracle that his son was still breathing. His life force was there, but weak, like a dimmed star. He didn’t mean to plunge Luke into a coma. It would be a problem if Luke couldn’t wake himself up. Anakin could worry about that later.
He set Luke down and felt around his mask, suddenly overwhelmed by sensory feedback. He ripped the top half of the mask off and winced at the sudden unhindered light. However, unlike the blurred image his burned retinas usually returned, this image was clear.
Luke had healed his eyes? More than that, he’d healed nearly everything. Sounds resonated clearly in his undamaged ears. What of his voice? He coughed, then hummed to himself. It sounded like him. Like Anakin. Like that forgotten voice now at the forefront of his mind. Lastly he held his chest. He could breathe. He could breathe!
He cast an awestruck gaze at the sleeping form beside him. The awe turned into concern. “You should have saved some for yourself, son.” Blood was pooling from burns that needed urgent attention.
Unless…. Anakin set his hand on Luke’s chest. He never learned how to heal. He forgot most of the teachings of his younger years, but he wanted to at least try. Luke did it for him, so he could return the favor. Anakin pulled on the energy of the Force, trying to find whatever it was that turned into that healing torrent.
But the energy evaded him. Healing was the purest of the light side, and there was still darkness clinging to Anakin. There always had been. Maybe there forever will be. For now he resolved to remain by his son’s side until he could do more.
He checked the shuttle’s autopilot and saw coordinates for a forest on Endor. The Rebel base? He hoped so. He took the helm.
The shuttle’s beacon transmitted a Rebel code, courtesy of Luke, and Anakin was allowed to land next to the base itself without having to speak a word. A small crowd was gathering, including Luke’s outlaw friends, a few strikingly familiar droids, and… Leia.
His other child.
Did she know of Luke’s plan? An attempt to turn the Sith Lord to the light?
Would she believe it worked?
She must.
Anakin gently scooped Luke into his arms and held him close. Hopefully this would be the only explanation Leia needed. If he could get her to believe him, the others shouldn’t immediately shoot him on sight.
Hopefully.
The ramp lowered. Scattered cheering immediately died. Anakin descended the ramp slowly, trying not to present himself as a threat. A few blasters rose. The voice of panic threatened to break.
“Wait!” Leia called to the crowd. She approached the unmasked warlord and her brother. The eye contact with Anakin was long and uncomfortable. Anakin knew she was not nearly as adept in the Force as Luke, but he kept his mind open and did what he could to make his intentions clear.
Leia worked her jaw. “He told me about this. About trying to sway you. I didn’t think he’d actually succeed.”
Thank the stars for another miracle. “You ought have more faith in him,” Anakin said, his clear voice sounding strange.
“Apparently so. Medic!” The barked order took a moment to register in the shocked crowd. Anakin delivered his son to the stretcher that was brought over. “Don’t worry,” said Leia, “He’ll be fine. As for you.” She stood tall despite standing before a warlord. “For your crimes against the galaxy as Darth Vader, I hereby place you under arrest.”
Ah. Unsurprising. An officer approached Anakin and started to bring forth a pair of cuffs. Anakin stopped him with a look. “I will not resist. Escort me.” The officer looked ready to pass out from fear but gestured with his rifle and a small squad gathered to escort him to the brig. Before he left, he caught Leia’s eye again. “Luke is in an unnatural coma. I will need to help him.”
Leia’s belief only went so far. She waved him off without a word.
He was brought to a bare cell with a barred door and a thin mat for a bed. Should he be so inclined, Anakin could rip the entire thing out of the rock face and turn the men behind him into—.
He caught himself. He shouldn’t be thinking like that anymore. Maybe he needed this dose of humility after being the right hand of the highest power in the galaxy. If he was going to help rebuild the galaxy, he needed to start from the ground.
The guards scurried away save for one man who was doing his best to not show his abject terror. Anakin almost laughed at the attempts. Instead he settled for removing his cape, gloves, and boots, revealing the metal limbs beneath. He sat down against the wall, realizing how exhausting it was to keep the prosthetics functional with the Force.
He rested his head against the rough stone and let his eyes slip closed. How long had it been since he meditated, truly meditated in that which held the universe together? Too long. And yet it came to him as if it were second nature.
Pits yawned beneath him, filled to the brim with sound and fury. It meant nothing. In the past he plunged into their depths and they welcomed him as their master and lord. But now they rejected him, spat out like a poisoned fruit.
It didn’t matter. This was not where he wanted to be. He went past the pits and closer to himself, bringing together an image of his inner self. He blinked and looked down at his hands. One was flesh, the other, metal. He’d grown so used to his first prosthetic he imagined his true self with it. He flexed them experimentally and dusted off the jedi robes hanging loosely around him. They were so very comfortable. He welcomed the loose fabric after decades of being cocooned in leather and metal.
Then Anakin sensed a presence with him. He’d hoped he didn’t have to address it so soon, and yet it sought him out.
He turned slowly. Piercing yellow eyes meet his, set in a form that bore but a vague semblance to human. Darkness surrounded it, held at bay by a thin pane that separated it from Anakin and his light.
“Are you angry?” Anakin asked. “After decades of utter silence, I have finally regained my rightful place.”
The vague form solidified into an image of Darth Vader. Anakin retreated a step, the yellow-eyed visage disturbing him. Darkness encroached into the vacated space.
Anakin laid his hand on the invisible divide. “You will not overtake me again.” He thrust outward, his light folding over the darkness until it was cowed against a distant wall. It spat and hissed at him.
“If you have something to say, then say it.”
“You are darkness. You are Sith! You are ours!”
“I am Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. I am my own.”
The monster’s eyes flared as it resisted the light’s push.
Anakin turned his back on it. He had other matters to attend to. He left the room of himself and glided through emptiness, feeling for the pull of the Force and letting it guide him.
He soon found himself at the edge of a wide, shimmering lake. The water swelled gently at his feet, reflecting a dazzling white as if it were made of snow.
This was where he needed to be. This was the light side of the Force, wide and gentle and welcoming, with a depth that surpassed what even the greatest masters could reach.
As he stood at its edge, Anakin became distinctly aware of the darkness that clung to him like an oily filth. The lake looked cleansing; he hoped it would not reject him.
Steeling himself, Anakin stepped into the lake. The water swelled at his presence, swirling around the back of his legs. Unlike the harsh, grasping hands of the dark pits, the benevolent lake gently led him deeper into its expanse.
He waded until the water reached his waist, then turned and lifted his feet to allow the current to dictate where he would go.
“I am one with the Force. The Force is with me.”
You are welcome, Skywalker, the waters murmured. Become one with us once more.
Anakin inhaled, then released the breath as he tipped his head under the surface and his body followed until he was entirely submerged.
There he hung, weightless and serene.
You are changed, Skywalker.
“I was deceived by the Sith and gave myself to the dark side,” Anakin said. It would do him no good to lie to that which is omnipresent.
Your son is strong with us.
“He is. It is because of him I have returned.”
We embrace you both. However…
Urgency surged in the waters around Anakin. They took him further and deeper into themselves until a light green form appeared. Anakin immediately recognized his son’s life force.
He is sinking within us, deeper than he should. His mind is alight and he will not rest.
Anakin reached toward Luke’s light despite its distance from him.
Go to him, Skywalker. Save our Knight. Save your son.
The current propelled him upward and momentum carried him out of the lake. Awareness returned to him; the sound of his heart and the air in his lungs.
He woke with a start. A voice nearby gasped a curse and whispered, “He’s awake!”
Anakin turned his attention to the barred cell door. A different guard stood by, hastily snapping to attention at an approaching pair of boots.
Anakin intended to stand, but the lack of motion from his legs reminded him of the broken prosthetics. He prodded at their inner workings with the Force and found them completely shut down. He must have been under longer than he thought.
The boots stopped outside the door. Anakin looked up at Leia. A small smile found its way to his lips but fell at the anxiety pulsing from her.
“So you are alive.”
Anakin lowered his brow.
“You’ve been sitting there for three days.”
His brow went the opposite direction. Three days? He Forced his limbs into motion and stood. “Luke? Is he—?”
Leia worked her jaw and the anxiety rose. “He’s still alive, physically. But his mind…”
“Is sinking.”
She nodded. “You said you could help. Frankly he’s also the only reason we haven’t immediately sent you to the firing squad. If you can help and he does truly vouch for you, we’ll see what we can do about—” she gestured vaguely in his direction “—you.”
“I can help him.”
“Then come with me.” She nodded to the guard who unlocked the door. Anakin let his hands hang dead at his sides in order to focus on moving his legs.
Leia was his only escort, to his surprise. He thought there would be another small platoon at his back, especially around a Rebel leader. But the base itself seemed remarkably empty. Anakin suspected a good many of them fled, if nothing to escape him.
Leia led him to a medical ward where Luke lay on a bed. He was clothed in airy white clothes. Anakin was relieved to see there were no burns scars on his skin.
Instinctively, Anakin reached for his son’s mind. He received no response.
Leia tried to say something of an explanation, but Anakin paid no heed. He dragged over a chair with the Force and sat at Luke’s head. Shifting his control from the metal legs to his hands, Anakin lifted them on either side of Luke’s head.
He reached again, diving as far as he dared. Where are you, son?
There! He found a light green shine far away. But before he pursued it, he looked to Leia. “I can bring him back, but he is far away. It will take time.” His head dipped and he sighed with regret. “I should not have let myself remain in meditation for so long.”
“Just bring him back,” Leia said. Her tone was cold but Anakin could read her feelings plain as day. She was afraid, both of him and for her brother.
“Do not be afraid,” Anakin said gently. He didn’t wait to feel or hear a response and dove back into the task at hand.
Unlike his vision in the light sea where he dove after his son’s life force, Anakin stepped into a dark, narrow space. He strained to see the green shimmer at its end and grimly noted how dim the light had become.
He didn’t run. He couldn’t afford the time. Instead he reached into the walls around him and hurled them behind him until they became a formless blur.
The light took shape and Anakin ended his journey in a vast void, the midst of which knelt Luke, his back turned to Anakin and bowed over something, weeping broken syllables into the dark.
Anakin carefully stepped around Luke to face him directly. A deep sympathy and sadness settled within him when he saw what Luke was doing.
The boy was hunched over a body made of water. Both hands were clenched on the liquid chest. The body looked like Anakin, judging from its build, though it hardly kept together. It kept slipping into pieces and spilling onto the floor before being dragged back into place.
Anakin knelt on the other side of the wavering form, in front of his son, and was finally able to hear the stuttered words.
“Don’t let go. Don’t let go, hold on, please. I won’t leave you, Father. Stay alive, I beg you!”
“Luke,” Anakin said quietly.
“No! I don’t care if it’s selfish, spare me my father!”
“Luke, I am here. It is you who are slipping away.”
Luke shook his head, arms shaking and breathing labored.
Anakin brought his hands together over his son’s, one on top and one cutting through the watery form underneath. He held Luke’s hands and swept the effigy away into nothing. A cold spear of despair sank through Luke with such force it nearly brought Anakin to tears.
“My son. Look up.”
He looked, but he didn’t see. “Father?”
“I am here. Luke, you must wake up. Your life is ebbing away into nothing.”
“I’m…” Luke shut his eyes and shook his head. His body sank with fatigue. “I’m tired.”
“Then let us wake together.” Anakin grasped Luke’s arms and hauled him to his feet. He reached for the edges of Luke’s mind, ready to pull the both of them into the waking world. Opening his own mind, Anakin intended to lend strength to his son. Unfortunately, the intention held disaster.
The two were yanked into Anakin’s mind where the darkness within him coiled around Luke, intending to infect and overtake him. It wanted a Skywalker and it didn’t care which one.
Anakin roared with righteous indignation and ripped the darkness away from his son. He lifted both hands and held it back with a vengeance. “You will not take him from me!”
“We will have a Skywalker! Our Lord! Our Master!”
Anakin could feel his resolve faltering. He never wanted Luke to witness his darkness first hand. It was some small fortune that Luke wasn’t witnessing anything at the moment; the boy was asleep beside his father’s feet.
The darkness encroached ever closer, weaving its horrid threads over Luke despite Anakin’s best efforts. He picked Luke bodily off the floor and set him over his shoulder. As he retreated, the darkness swallowed the space he once held.
At last he was cornered. He eased Luke to the floor, propping him up on the wall, then took two steps back and held his ground. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him and his son safe. He couldn’t actively fight back lest he tire and truly lose Luke.
The darkness taunted him, gaily throwing insults and mockery at his attempts to be what he wasn’t.
“You’ve pushed me into smaller corners than this. But I will never go away. One day I will put you in a corner smaller than mine, a bubble so insignificant it is unworthy to be spat upon. I will never stop fighting because despite your every effort I have someone I love!”
A human hand took his shoulder. Luke stood beside him, looking weary but ready to fight. He glanced up at his father and smiled. Anakin returned the expression and they faced the darkness. The form in its midst flickered between Darth Vader and the Emperor, even going so far as to dredge up images of Obi-Wan and Leia.
But Anakin and Luke were of one mind. They lifted their hands to the darkness and with a combined, mighty power, wiped away its influence and sent it hurtling to the furthest reaches of Anakin’s self. There it crumpled into a shapeless heap and howled with hate.
Luke motioned to try to wipe it out completely, but Anakin stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. It wouldn’t matter what Luke or Anakin did; the darkness was here to stay. Some days it would be bigger, some days it would be more pathetic than it was now, but never again would it overcome the light.
Anakin took a step back, ready to finally leave this behind him. That is, until Luke hugged him. He voiced a surprised note at the action, unable to recall the last time he was embraced in such a way and somewhat unsure how to react.
Eventually his sense returned and he returned the gesture, holding his son tightly with a familial closeness he had long forgotten yet sorely missed.
It almost disappointed him to wake.
Leia reacted before Anakin had a chance, hurrying to Luke’s side and taking his hand. Luke smiled up at his sister. “Hey, I’m glad you're okay.” Luke spoke in a hushed tone, his voice rough. “How is everyone?”
“Worried about you, mainly,” Leia responded. “And… worried about him.” She nodded in Anakin’s direction.
“Ah,” Luke sighed with a smile, turning his attention to his father.
Anakin smiled back. “What you attempted would have endangered even the most powerful of Jedi Masters. You put your life in jeopardy. Yet I am alive because of you. Thus, for what it is worth, thank you.”
Luke chuckled. “Thank you for throwing my “destiny” over a railing.” His face turned back to the ceiling as his eyes dropped closed. “I’m so tired.”
Anakin gently squeezed Luke’s shoulder. “Then rest, my son. It is a new era for the galaxy. Both you and I will have much work to do.”