Memoires of the Chosen One

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 16

It has been almost twenty years since I came to this place, and yet the sight of it has been burned forever in my memory ever since. I had to create some false reason for going to Naboo, for I knew that my master would never have allowed me to come otherwise. He considered my grief over Padmé’s death to be a sign of weakness, and I never spoke of her in his presence after that terrible day…it seems in your anger, you killed her… Self indulgence was how he would describe it – I suppose never having loved anyone, nor even having the ability to do so, would have precluded him from understanding what utter devastation I felt at the loss of my beloved wife.

I can feel my son’s anxiety level rising along with my own as we approach the mausoleum where Padmé was laid to rest all those years ago. My throat constricts as I catch sight of the building, and stop at the foot of the steps that lead up to it. Luke stops too, looking above us.

“Is she…is that where she is?” he asks softly.

I nod, not taking my eyes off of the stone and glass edifice. I fight to control my grief, but it is not to be. The tears come, and roll down my face as I relive the horrible moment when I learned of her death. I wonder if the day will ever come when I am able to master the grief, and remember Padmé without also feeling the agony of feeling her loss.

“Come,” I tell Luke. We walk up the stairs in silence, with only the sounds of the birds in nearby trees accompanying the sound of our boots on the ancient stone. We reach the wrought iron gate that serves as the entrance to the mausoleum. I stop, summoning my strength. Luke waits at my side, knowing how difficult this is for me, struggling with his own emotions. I push open the gate, and we enter the small enclosure.

It is six sided, with large windows of blue glass on each side. It is so beautiful, so fitting for the one who lies here in eternal rest. In the center of the room is a raised platform, with the coffin atop it. A holographic image of Padmé hovers above the casket, and the sight of it makes us both stop in our tracks.

“She was so beautiful,” Luke says softly. I turn to him, remembering that this is the first time he has laid eyes upon his mother’s face. The thought of it constricts my throat more, and I can only nod in response. Luke’s eyes fill with tears as well as he draws closer to the casket, his eyes not leaving the sight of his mother’s image.

“She was…so many things, Luke,” I tell him, words escaping me. “Your mother was a remarkable woman in every respect; I’ve known none others who could compare to her.”

Luke merely nods, mesmerized by Padmé’s image. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet her,” he says quietly as he brushes the tears from his cheek.

I close my eyes as the grief and remorse fill me. “I know,” I respond softly. “She’d have been so very proud of you, Luke, and of your sister as well. I…I don’t think I will ever stop missing her. You’d think after all these years the pain of her loss would lessen, but it hasn’t.” I can speak no further, the emotions are too strong, and they silence me, reducing me to utter desolation. I put my hands in my face, trying to master my grief, but it is no use. The pain is just as deep today as it was 22 years ago…and no doubt shall be for the rest of my life. I sit down on one of the marble benches inside the mausoleum, giving in to the sorrow. I don’t like my son to see me this way, but I cannot help it; the sight of her face coupled with the knowledge that she is gone forever are too much for me, even now, and I weep bitterly.

Luke sits down beside me. He says nothing, put merely his presence is a comfort to me. For so many years I felt so alone, so empty after her death; but now I have him, and through him, she lives on.

I sense that my son is uneasy, perhaps surprised by my open demonstration of grief. I have to remind myself that until recently Luke has only known me as Darth Vader, a heartless cyborg who showed no emotion but anger to anyone. No doubt he is having difficulty knowing how to relate to the new person that I have become.

“Did my mother have any family?” asks Luke at last.

I look at him and nod. “Yes, besides her parents she had a sister, Sola, and two young nieces.”

“Do they live here on Naboo?” he asks.

I stand up. “They did,” I reply, my eyes riveted on the holographic image. “I…I don’t know if they live here still, or even if they’re still alive.”

Luke stands up beside me, silent for a moment. I feel his hand upon my shoulder as he silently conveys his support. I look down at him, grateful for his presence. “Come along then,” I say at last. “Let’s go.”

We leave the mausoleum, the sky starting to grow dark as the sun starts its descent. I am chilled by the evening air and pull my cloak around me tighter. My son and I walk along in silence as we exit the cemetery.

“How is your sister?” I ask Luke.

He looks up at me, and I can sense that this is as sensitive topic for him.

“She’s fine,” he replies. “Busy of course, there’s a lot to be done now.”

I nod. “Did she…have you spoken to her about our conversation?”

Luke shakes his head. “No,” he replies softly. “I haven’t. I’m not sure how to tell her…how she’ll react.”

“I don’t think her opinion of me could sink any lower,” I comment. “I don’t hold much hope that she’ll ever accept me, Luke.”

“She may come around, Father,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound too convinced.

I smile at him. “You’re an optimist, son,” I tell him. “I can’t see it happening. There is too much history between us.”

“Don’t give up hope,” says Luke earnestly. “You never know…”

He stops as a group of Naboo security guards approaches us. I frown, sensing the hostility that they feel towards me.

“Anakin Skywalker?” asks one of the officers.

I nod. “Yes, I’m Anakin Skywalker,” I tell them. Alarms go off in my mind…how did they know?

“I am placing you under arrest for war crimes.”

“War crimes??” echoes Luke, stepping towards them. “What do you mean?”

The head of the group looks at my son and then back at me. “Are you or are you not Anakin Skywalker?” he asks calmly.

“I told you that I am,” I reply.

“Then you will come with us at once,” he says, pointing his weapon at me. “Put up your hands.”

I comply, and one of the other guards approaches me. He is apprehensive, even fearful as he searches me for weapons, and, finding my lightsaber, confiscates it. He then takes my hands and pulls them roughly behind my back, binding my wrists. Luke watches, not knowing what to do. He looks up at me, his eyes conveying his anguish. He wants to help, want to do something to prevent this from happening, but I don’t want him to get involved. I shake my head at him, telling him silently to stand back, not to interfere. No doubt the two of us could take down the entire group of them quite easily, but what would that accomplish? It was only a matter of time before the crimes of my past caught up to me. I was a fool to believe that I was free.

“Where are you taking him?” asks Luke as he walks along beside us. “He is my father; I demand to know where you’re taking him.”

“To a holding cell,” grunts one of the guards. “Where he’ll be well guarded. We know all about your father, we know he’s spent the last 22 years living under a different name than the one he uses now. Isn’t that right, Lord Vader?”

Luke looks up at me. How did they find out? He is wondering. I am wondering the very same thing. Someone has obviously informed them, someone who knows who I have been for the past 22 years. But who? A thought strikes me, and I am sickened to think of it. Would my own daughter have done this? Does she hate me this much that she would betray me this way? Luke is wondering the same thing, I can see it in his eyes, and it breaks his heart to even consider it. He loves his sister, and yet he loves me as well; whose side will he take if my suspicions are correct? I can only hope that they are not.

The heavily armed men push me into a waiting vehicle. Luke is desperate to help me. I look back at him, wishing I knew what I should say to him. He has forgiven me, despite everything, despite all the ugliness he now knows about my past; but the galaxy has not. I have spent half of my life terrorizing the galaxy – now it is retribution time.

I am taken to a high security facility, I recognize it immediately. Four guards accompany me as I am lead into the building, all of them keeping their weapons trained on me. I’m not surprised that they are taking such precautions; Darth Vader was a notorious villain, no doubt they are afraid I will erupt into a fit of violence and leave them all dead. I could do so with very little effort, but I have no intention to do so. I am no longer Darth Vader, but that is something these men are incapable of understanding.

The cell I am pushed into is small and dark. There are no windows, no possible means of escape. The force field is activated immediately, along with a heavy blast door. Undoubtedly this cell has been reserved for only the most notorious of criminals, I realize. The guards say nothing to me as they leave me, giving me no indication when I am to be tried for the crimes I am being charged with. I sit down on the hard bench that is to serve as my bed, wondering where Luke is. I sigh, putting my face in my hands. I cannot help but wonder if it would have been better of for everyone if I had died back on the Death Star.

I cannot tell how long has passed since I my incarceration; perhaps an hour, when I hear the guards in the corridor outside. Luke is here…I stand up as the blast door is opened, and the guards appear with my son standing between them.

“Father, are you alright?” he asks as the guards lower the energy field.

I nod, watching the two men as they let Luke in and then leave. They reactive the field, and then the heavy doors. I look back at my son, happy to see him.

“Have they told you what's going to happen?” he asks as he approaches me.

“No,” I tell him. “They haven’t told me a thing.”

Luke seems frustrated. “I tried to get them to tell me anything but they wouldn't. Perhaps I should persuade them.”

I shake my head. “I don’t suppose this should come as a surprise.”

Luke sighs. “No,” he replies. “It doesn't, but…we'll find a way to deal with this, I promise you.”

I smile at my son. “The rest of the galaxy isn’t as forgiving as you, Luke,” I tell him.

“But you've changed!” Luke protests. “You aren’t the person you were! We have to make them realize that.”

“Luke you know as well as I that very few people believe in the Force anymore,” I tell him. “To try to explain that I am no longer Darth Vader will be difficult for those who don't understand the nature of the Dark Side of the Force.”

“You don't need to believe in the Force to see that you have changed,” replies Luke. “You destroyed Palpatine, you saved my life,” he says. “That has to count for something!”

“Perhaps,” I concur. “But there is a lot of blood on my hands. I don’t expect to be shown any mercy,” I tell him, sitting down once again, suddenly feeling very tired.

“It was a time of war,” replies Luke. “There are a lot of people with blood on their hands,” he turns away from me and I hear him say softly, “me included…”

“War is different,” I tell my son. “For that I have no remorse- the Clone war was a terrible conflict- but the blood of innocents is another matter. The annihilation of entire planets is another.”

Luke looks back at me. “I know, I know,” he says quietly.

I look up at him. “I’m not sure that my actions on the death star are enough to absolve me, Luke,” I tell him.

Luke seems torn, desperate to help me, but helpless to do so. “Tell me what you want me to do, Father.”

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” I reply. “I’m not sure you or anyone can do anything,” I tell him. I hesitate before responding. “I…I cannot help but wonder if your sister is behind this arrest - she has more reason than most to hate me.”

Luke frowns, the thought immensely painful to him. “I don't want to believe that, father,” he says.

“No, I don’t either,” I tell him. “But it’s been preying on my mind.”

Luke doesn’t like what I’m suggesting. “I will talk to her,” he says. “If she was involved, I'll find out.”

I don’t see the point of that, and tell him so. “What good will it do? What’s done is done.”

Luke interjects. “I don't want to even think that,” he tells me. “If there is going to be a trial, you will need people supporting you.”

I frown. “You don’t expect her to support me?? She hates me Luke, she'll never accept me, let alone support me.”

"But she doesn't have to testify against you,” insists Luke.

“If she's summoned to court she will,” I point out. “She’ll have no choice.”

“She could be very influential, either way,” replies Luke, not wishing to think that his sister would try to see me executed.

“Her testimony could be very damning, Luke,” I tell him.

Luke shakes his head sadly. “I know,” he says softly. “She needs more time. I’ll talk to her.”

“The penalty for capital crimes on Naboo is execution,” I tell him. “Time isn’t something I have a lot of.”

Luke looks at me, his eyes reflecting his anguish. “I'm so sorry,” he says. “I will do whatever I can; I will find the best legal representatives I can. You don't deserve this.”

“I wonder how many people will be willing to represent Darth Vader,” I muse.

“I will find someone, the best, I promise,” insists Luke.

I look at him, as a thought strikes me. “You could do it yourself, Luke”

Luke is surprised. “Me?” he asks.

I nod. “Who better?”

“I don't know anything about legal matters, father,” he tells me.

"Does that matter?” I reply. “This trial is a formality, Luke, a farce. They’ve already found me guilty I’m sure.”

“I'm afraid I would make matters worse,” replies Luke. “What about...Obi Wan?”

I frown. “Obi Wan??? Are you joking?”

“He has claimed to want to help,” replies Luke. “At least that's what he's always told me. Maybe he could say something in your defense”

I raise one eyebrow skeptically. “I doubt it,” I mutter. “Qui Gon maybe, but not him.”

"Qui Gon--I hadn't thought of him,” replies Luke thoughtfully. “Maybe I could talk to him.”

“Though he only knew me for a short time,” I realize. “I think the list of character references will be rather short.”

“I will talk to Qui Gon, and Obi Wan,” declares Luke. “He owes me, big time. Plus, he's always had a certain affection for me, though--I'm sure I could talk to him.”

I nod. “He does - but the last time we spoke things were rather tense between us. He still blames me for your mother's death, and would no doubt bring that up in a trial.”

Luke nods, his brow creased with worry. “Leave it with me, father,” he says at last.

I nod. “As you wish,” I tell him. “But don’t get your hopes up, Luke- I’m not.”

“It’s when you give up that you have lost, father,” is his reply.

I nod, proud of my son’s wisdom. “Yes, that is true - I suppose it’s just hard to be optimistic when all your whole life has been a struggle.”

“Have faith, Father,” he tells me.

I smile at him. “I will try, son.”

The sound of the blast doors opening ends our conversation. I stand up as the guards reenter the cell, both looking at me malevolently, their blasters trained on me. “Time to go,” one of them tell Luke. “Visiting hours are over,” he adds sarcastically.

Luke nods, and then looks back at me. “I’ll be back soon, Father. I won’t let you go through this alone.”

I smile, loving my son intensely at that moment. “I know you won’t, Luke,” I tell him softly. “May the Force be with you, my son,” I tell him.

“And with you, father,” he replies with a smile. The guards escort him out, and I am alone again. Luke’s faith in me has given me a small glimmer of hope.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 17

It doesn’t take me long to realize that one of the guards assigned to me has a great deal of hostility where I am concerned, more than any of the others. I have to wonder if in my past life I did something to him, or his family, and now he is taking his revenge.

“Dinner time, Lord Vader,” he announces as he enters my cell with a tray of food. I look at him, probing his mind for something that would explain his hatred for me. “Did you hear me?” he asks sharply. “Dinner is served. What, not fancy enough for his lordship??” he asks. He holds the tray out in front of him, and then spits on the food. He looks back at me, a malicious smile on his face. “Is that better?” he asks. I stare at him, holding myself back. I could so easily destroy him, it would be utterly effortless to reach out with the Force and crush his larynx…

“I’m not hungry,” I tell him, my eyes not leaving his.

The man shrugs indifferently and drops the tray on the floor, causing the less than appetizing mess on it to splatter against the walls of the cell. “Suit yourself, Vader,” he tells me.

I stand up as he turns to leave. “My name is Skywalker,” I tell him. “I’ve told you that before. Are you deaf or just stupid?” I regret the words immediately. The man turns back to me and strikes me hard across the face with the butt of his blaster, sending me to the floor.

“I don’t give a damn what you’re calling yourself these days,” he snaps. “It doesn’t erase what you did, you bastard.” He turns and leaves me now, bleeding and angry.

I slowly get up; spit out the blood that has filled my mouth as a result of his assault. I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of the prison garb I have been forced to wear, a one piece garment made from coarse blue material. It is too small, and is terribly uncomfortable. I kick the tray of slop across the floor, disgusted by the sight of it. The temptation to break out of here is overwhelming as I stand looking at the force field. They underestimate me if they think that this crude facility can hold me. There are 4 guards outside the blast door, all armed heavily. I could dispatch all of them, send a message into their feeble minds to leave, to disarm, to open the door, or just kill them where they stand….No…I must not give in to that temptation …I must resist the hatred, the Darkness that I feel trying to take control of me…hurry Luke…I can’t hold out much longer…

Sleep is welcome, for it offers me at least a temporary respite from the misery of my new surroundings. The bench is hard and unyielding, and not nearly wide enough to accommodate my large frame. I wake up stiff and full of aches and pains, the bruises on my face still throbbing from the previous day. I stand up stretch, feeling my abused muscles protesting. I remember how often I would awaken during my Padawan days feeling sore after a day of rigorous training, and how Obi-Wan would tell me to exercise in order to work out the aches. It didn’t make much sense to me, but it did work. Of course I was a teenager then, not a 44-year old man… Determined not to let this new problem defeat me, I get down on the floor and begin. First I do abdominal crunches; not easy in the ill fitting clothing, but I am determined to do this. Besides, what else have I to do to pass the hours? Next I do push ups, and by the time I hit 39, I am feeling much better. The strength is returning, my new limbs are remarkably fit and strong. I am just about at 50 when I hear the blast doors opening. I ignore it, and press on, expecting it is just my breakfast being delivered.

“Get up, Vader,” the guard orders me. I know he is trying to anger me, trying to provoke me into doing something stupid, so I ignore him.

“I said, get up!” he barks, punctuating his words with a swift and yet hard kick to my ribs.

I fall on the floor, the pain bombarding my senses. I struggle to get up, when I feel his boot in my ribcage again.

“Are you deaf or just stupid?? Get up!!” he yells at me, enjoying my pain. I force myself to my feet, the pain in my ribs makes me dizzy, but I am determined not to let him win. I meet his stare, the loathing I feel for him pouring out of me. I say nothing, for it is a struggle just to keep myself on my feet at this point.

“That’s much better,” he says with a malevolent grin. “Now that you’re up, you can clean up that mess you made over there,” he says, indicating the tray from the previous night.

I look briefly at the mess, and then back at him. I will not let him demean me; if he only knew how easy it would be for me to kill him, he would not treat me this way. What makes him think I will not?

“No,” I tell him. “I’m not cleaning that up. You threw it on the floor, you clean it up,” I tell him. I use the Force to put the power of suggestion behind my words.

He stares at me, his face a blank for a moment or two. Then he turns and looks at the mess. I can see his mind trying to work through the problem, trying to shake free of the control I have placed on it; but he is too weak minded to do so. He activates the comlink on his wrist. “Send a maintenance droid in here with a clean up detail,” he orders. I smile. A small victory, but I will take what I can.

He turns back to me, still in a daze. “The magistrate wants to see you,” he says gruffly. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

I nod my understanding and watch him leave. Once he is gone, I collapse onto the bench, the pain excruciating. I remember during the Clones Wars I had broken ribs more than once, and I remember what it felt like; I am sure they are broken now. Will the magistrate listen to me if I tell him about this latest cruelty? Will the bruises on my face serve as evidence of his abuse? Somehow I doubt that he will care much, given my history, given the very reason I am in this hellhole; no pity for Darth Vader, no compassion for the man who was once the terror of the galaxy. I suppose I can’t be surprised by this, and try to prepare myself for the worst, which, I feel certain, is all I can expect at this point.

As promised, the guards return one hour later. All four of them enter the cell this time, no doubt expecting me to make an escape attempt while the door is open.

“Stand up,” orders one of them as they approach me. I comply, watching them as they point their blasters at me. One of them binds my wrists while another attaches binders and a short, heavy chain to my ankles. They are obviously not taking any chances.

“Now move,” I am told. I look down, the chain between my feet is barely 30 centimeters in length; how do they expect me to walk?

“He told you to move, Vader!” barks my nemesis, hitting me in the small of the back with the butt of his blaster rifle.

I stumble and nearly fall, but the other guards prevent my fall, and I sense their disapproval of their comrade’s violent methods. “That’ll do,” comments one of them, frowning at him. He looks back at me. “Come on, let’s go.”

The guards escort me to a room on the other side of the prison. It seems to be on the other side of the galaxy, for I am in considerable pain, and I am only able to take small shuffling steps. Finally we reach it, and I am escorted into the room and before a high table. The magistrate does not look up at me; apparently I am to await his pleasure. I probe his mind, trying to determine what manner of person he is; has he already decided that I am to be executed, or is he willing to listen to the tragic events that decided my fate? He is reading the list of crimes that has been compiled against me, and it is considerable. Yet I sense in him intelligence, and a fairly open mind. Perhaps there is a chance that he will listen to my side. Perhaps there is a chance…

Finally he looks up. “Where is your council?” he asks me.

“I have none yet, your honor,” I tell him. “My son is off world right now making arrangements.”

He looks at me for a moment, trying to determine what his next course of action ought to be.

“So are you prepared to represent yourself at this time, Skywalker?” he asks me.

“I suppose I have no choice,” I reply.

He nods, and then looks back at the list in front of him. “Very well,” he says. “Anakin Skywalker, you are charged with crimes against humanity, murder in the first degree, many counts, attempted genocide, a variety of war crimes…the list is quite lengthy. Should I go on?”

I shake my head, looking down at my feet. So much blood…

“How do you plead to these crimes, Skywalker?” asks the magistrate.

I look back up at him, not even sure what to say. Did I commit those horrendous acts? Yes…but I was a different man when I did, I was not the same man that I am now, the same man I was before the Dark Side took control of me…

“How do you plead?” he asks again.

“Your honor,” I begin. “I cannot deny that I committed those crimes; but I was not the man you see before you right now, I was Darth Vader, not Anakin Skywalker. I know that probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to you, but…”

“It is utter nonsense,” comments the magistrate calmly. “If you admit to the crimes, then your plea must be guilty.”

“With mitigating circumstances.” I turn around to see my son at the back of the room. The relief fills me. He looks at me, his eyes troubled.

“Mitigating circumstance?” echoes the magistrate. “Who are you??”

“I am Luke Skywalker,” replies Luke, approaching the bench. “I am representing my father, Anakin Skywalker, your honor.”

The magistrate nods, looking from Luke back to me. “I see,” he replies. “Well is this your final plea then, Skywalker?”

I nod. “Yes,” I reply. “It is your honor.”

“Very well,” he says. “Enter the plea into the record,” he instructs the protocol droid at his side. He then looks back at me and Luke. “Your trial is scheduled for four weeks’ time.”

“So soon?” asks Luke.

“The people of the galaxy are anxious to see your father tried,” explains the magistrate. “His trial has been moved to the top of the list. You have that long to prepare your case, young Skywalker.”

Luke nods, looking up at me. “We’ll be ready,” he tells us both. I smile at him, grateful and relieved to have him on my side once again.

“Guards, escort Skywalker back to his cell,” the magistrate instructs as he stands up to leave.

“Let’s go,” says the guard standing behind me. I turn around, slowly of course because of the chain between my feet. Luke notices my labored movements, and frowns.

“What’s wrong, Father?” he asks me. “Your face is bruised, what’s been going on?”

I look at him, and then at the sadistic guard who seems content to keep his distance for the time being. No doubt he is being careful not to let the magistrate know of his abusive treatment of me. But Luke is not fooled so easily.

“The accommodations have been something less than comfortable,” I tell him.

Luke frowns, knowing I am not telling him everything.

“Let’s go,” says the guard, giving me a shove with his hand. Luke falls into step beside me.

“Is that really necessary?” he asks, indicating the binders on my ankles.

“Your father is a very dangerous man,” replies the guard beside me without looking at Luke. “We can’t take any chances that he’ll try to escape.”

“I can promise you that he won’t do anything so foolish,” says Luke. “I give you my word.”

The guard raises his eyebrows and exchanges a look with his comrades. “And you’re not biased at all, are you Skywalker?” he asks. The other guards chuckle.

“I am a Jedi Knight,” replies Luke. “If I give you my word, then you can count on it.”

“You’re also the son of Darth Vader,” retorts one of the guards. “That sort of makes your word less than reliable.”

Luke says nothing in return, seeing, as I have already, that these men are closed minded where I am concerned. There is no point in trying to convince them of anything; the magistrate is another matter.

I am relieved when we finally get back to my cell. I sit down on the hard bench, exhausted and aching. Luke watches me as the guards remove my restraints.

“You have half an hour, Skywalker,” the guard tells him. “No more. Understood?”

Luke nods, and the guards leave us.

“You’re in pain,” observes Luke with a frown. “Have they been abusing you?”

I look up at my son, seeing how concerned he is for my well being. It touches me.

“Not all of them,” I say, rubbing my wrists. “Just one, the bearded one. He has a deep hatred of me. I sense that I did something to him in the past.”

Luke nods. “That’s possible,” he concurs. “But that doesn’t give him the right to abuse you. What has he done? Do you need to see a medical droid?”

I shake my head. “I’m alright, Luke. Believe me, pain and I are well acquainted.”

Luke frowns. “Did you tell the magistrate about this?”

I smile. “Do you really think he’d give a damn, Luke? After the list of crimes he read, a few kicks in the ribs are pretty insignificant.”

“Still…” Luke says, not happy with my seeming lack of concern.

“Did you talk to Leia?” I ask, changing the subject.

Luke sits down beside me. “Yes, I did. She was upset to hear that you’d been arrested.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Really?” I reply. “That surprises me. So my theory was wrong? She wasn’t behind this?”

Luke doesn’t reply immediately, and I sense he is uneasy with what he has to tell me. “Well, not directly, no.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“She…you know she is involved with Han Solo, right?”

I nod. “I rather had that impression,” I reply.

“Well, she told him about you, that you, that is, that Darth Vader, is our father. He didn’t take the news too well I guess, and, well, he…”

“He made sure that I was arrested,” I finish his sentence. “That’s it, isn’t it? He is behind this.”

Luke sighs. “I think so,” he replies softly. “I’m sorry, Father. Han is a good man, really he is; he’s saved my life more than once, and truly loves Leia. I think he just reacted too quickly. You and he have a long history, don’t forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Luke,” I say, standing up. My back is aching, and I stretch to try to alleviate the pain. “So that’s it,” I say, starting to pace up and down the small cell. “Well, I’m happy it wasn’t Leia. I’m glad that I was wrong about that.”

Luke follows me with his eyes. “So am I,” he replies. “She is pretty upset, Father; I think she’s starting to soften where you’re concerned.”

I stop my pacing and look at him. “You think so?” I ask hopefully.

Luke nods, and I don’t sense any duplicity in him. “She could really help you, Father,” he says. “She’s a pretty influential person.”

“I know she is,” I comment as I recommence my pacing. “I only hope it will be enough. I appreciate all that you’re doing, Luke. I know you’re not comfortable with all this; it means a lot to me that you’re willing to try to defend me.”

“I can’t promise you anything, Father,” he tells me. “But I’ll do everything I can to see that you get a fair trial. I’m hoping that I will have Leia’s help. I’m going to need it I think,” he finishes softly.

The sound of the blast doors opening is heard.

“Half an hour already?” Luke says, standing up. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

A guard enters, one of the four who escorted me to the magistrate. He reactivates the door behind him and approaches us. I sense apprehension in him, as though he is trying to hide something...but not from us.

“I noticed that you were in a fair bit of pain back there, Skywalker,” he says. “What happened?”

“He’s been injured by one of your comrades,” Luke tells him before I have a chance to say anything. “I think the magistrate should be told about this.”

The guard frowns. “What happened? Do you need medical assistance?”

I frown, puzzled and suspicious of the young man’s concern. “He kicked me,” I tell him. “In the ribs, twice.”

The guard nods. “And your face? You’ve got bruises. Was that him too?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Why are you so concerned? No one else around here gives a damn about me.”

The young man’s face flushes, and he looks nervous for a moment. “Well, it’s because of my wife, actually.”

“Your wife?” asks Luke. “What does she have to do with my father’s case?”

“Well, when I told her that Anakin Skywalker was one of the prisoners I had been assigned to, she told me that she had met you when she was a young girl, at her grandparents’ house. You had been a friend of her aunt, I believe,” relates the guard. “She told me that you played with her and her sister, that you were very kind to them both. She had a hard time believing that you were being charged with such a serious list of crimes.”

I am silent as I listen to his story. I cannot imagine who he is talking about at first, and then it strikes me.

“The aunt that you refer to,” I speak at last. “Was her name Padmé Naberrie?” I ask him.

To my astonishment, he nods. “Yes, that was her! She died about 20 years back, Pooja, my wife, told me. But I guess you know that, if you knew her.”

“Padmé was my wife,” I say quietly, my eyes cast down.

“Your wife??” exclaims the guard. “I…I had no idea!”

“It was a well kept secret,” I explain. “I was a Jedi Knight; I wasn’t supposed to marry, so we had to keep it a secret, even from Padmé’s family.”

The guard is amazed, and turns to Luke. “So...you must be Pooja’s cousin then?” he asks.

Luke nods. “Yeah, I suppose I am,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Padmé was my mother.”

The guard shakes his head in amazement, and then looks back at me. “This is unbelievable,” he says. “I…if they find out that there is a family connection between us, then they will take me off this detail. And so long as Kal is around, I think you need someone on your side.”

“What is his problem with me?” I ask. “Did I do something to him in the past?”

“You killed his brother,” he tells me. “He was a captain in the Imperial Fleet, Lorth Needa. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

Apology accepted, Captain Needa…. I nod. “Yes, yes it does,” I tell him. “I had the feeling that there was something. No wonder he hates me so much,” I say quietly.

“But that doesn’t make it right for him to abuse you, not while you are an unarmed prisoner,” retorts Luke. “Can’t something be done about that?”

“Well, I can get you some medical care, if you think it’s needed,” replies the guard. “But that’s about all I can do right now.”

“That’s a start,” replies Luke, looking up at me. “Your ribs are broken, Father,” he tells me matter-of-factly. “You need to have them looked at.”

I nod; knowing to argue with Luke would be pointless. “Very well,” I tell him.

“I’ll send a medical droid over right away,” replies the young man and then turns to leave.

“Wait,” I call after him. “What is your name?”

He turns back to us. “Darvin,” he replies. “Len Darvin.”

“Well Len Darvin,” I reply. “I am grateful for your help.”

He gives me a slight smile. “Given what I’ve just learned,” he tells me. “I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t at least try.”

I nod in understanding as he deactivates the shield for the medical droid that has arrived. The droid sets about repairing the cracked ribs that have given me more discomfort than I am willing to admit to my son.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now,” Darvin tells Luke. “I’m not supposed to let visitors stay longer than half an hour at a time.”

“Of course,” replies Luke. He looks back at me. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, Father,” he tells me. “Get some sleep; you look like you could use some.”

“I won’t deny that,” I tell him. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“You will,” replies Luke. “Take care, Father.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 18

The hours pass slowly, spent in isolation for the most part. My son comes each day as we prepare for my trial. I know that Luke is doing his best to ensure that there is at least a chance of me being acquitted. I, however, I don’t hold out much hope. When I reflect on the two decades I spent as Darth Vader, I am filled with guilt and remorse. I cannot even begin to reckon the number of deaths I am responsible for, including that of my beloved wife. Am I truly worthy of forgiveness? Am I truly changed? The anger still comes so quickly sometimes, that I cannot help but wonder if the shadow of Darth Vader will still be with me for the rest of my life.

The sound of the blast doors opening are heard outside my cell, and I turn to see the guard I know now is the brother of Lorth Needa enter.

“You have a visitor,” he says gruffly. “Stand up.”

I comply, and hold out my hands for the binders that they feel are necessary. I look at him, trying to remember what his brother looked like. I only met him once, and he lived for a mere moments in my presence. He was certainly at the wrong place at the wrong time; my frustration level by that point had sky rocketed out of control, and the news that he brought was simply the last straw. But did that justify killing him?

“I know now why it is you hate me so much,” I tell Needa as he binds my wrists. He looks up at me sharply, and I see in him a hint of surprise.

“Is that so?” he asks sarcastically. “And why is that?”

“I killed your brother,” I reply calmly.

He narrows his eyes, the hatred filling him. He does not speak, but gives me a shove towards the door. “Move,” he says gruffly.

He and another guard who is waiting outside the door direct me to a small room outside of the detention area.

“Sit there,” I am told. I do so, and a force field is immediately activated to cage me in. The room is empty, but it isn’t long before a woman is shown in. She sits down on the opposite side of the table from me, and looks at me for a moment. She looks familiar to me, but I cannot place her. Finally she speaks.

“I wasn’t sure whether to believe Len, but it’s you, it really is you,” she says.

I frown, looking at her closely, and then I remember who she is.

“Sola?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes,” she replies. “It’s been a long time, Anakin. I didn’t think you were still alive. I remember that awful day so long ago when the Jedi were killed; I just assumed that you were killed too.”

“No, I managed to survive,” I tell her. “Though I sustained horrific injuries that nearly killed me.”

She nods, though I sense that she does not truly understand what I am saying. Does she know that I have spent half my life as Darth Vader?

“I suppose you know about Padmé,” she says quietly, her eyes cast down.

“Of course!” I reply, surprised that she would even ask me. And then I realize that she doesn’t know that Padmé and I were married. No one did…

“Sola, there’s something you need to know,” I tell her. She looks up at me. “Padmé and I were married,” I tell her. “She was my wife.”

Her eyes widen in shock. “What??” she exclaims. “I…what...how is that possible? When? Why didn’t she tell any of us?”

“I was not allowed to marry, being a Jedi it was not permitted,” I explain. “So we had to marry in secret. No one knew, Sola. We couldn’t take that chance.”

She says nothing, and I sense her mind her struggle to understand and digest this shocking revelation.

“No wonder she didn’t come home as often as she used to,” she says, half to herself. She looks up at me. “So was she happy? Were you happy together?”

I smile wistfully at her. “We knew much happiness in the short time we had together, Sola,” I tell her. “I loved your sister deeply, and when she died, a part of me died with her. I…I lost my soul when I lost her.”

Sola’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m sure,” she says softly. “I’m glad to know that she was happy, Anakin, that you made her life a happy one.”

I look down at my manacled wrists, unable to maintain eye contact with her. Did I? She died of a broken heart, according to Kenobi…would her life have been a happier one if she’d never met me?

“I…I like to think I did,” I say at last, not raising my eyes. “She sacrificed much to be with me,” I tell her.

Sola watches me closely, somehow knowing that there is more to the story than she knows.

“Where were you when she died, Anakin?” she asks me. “How is it that she was killed by the Jedi when her husband was a Jedi Knight?”

I look up at her quickly, disturbed by her question. “Killed by the Jedi?” I echo. “What makes you think she was killed by the Jedi?”

“That’s what we were told,” Sola tells me, her brow furrowed. “A group of renegade Jedi stormed the Senate building and killed many senators before they were quelled by Imperial troops. Padmé was among those killed. That is what happened isn’t it?”

I shake my head slowly. “No, there was no raid on the Senate,” I tell her. “Whoever told you that was lying.” I know who it was who told her, who else could it have been but Sidious? Lying came as easily to him as breathing in air…

“There was no raid on the Senate by Jedi, Sola. It’s true that the Jedi were killed, but it wasn’t because of anything that they had done. It was because the late emperor Palpatine was a monstrous beast, a Sith Lord who hated and feared the Jedi, and had them all murdered as part of his plan to take control of the galaxy.”

Sola’s confusion is evident on her face. “How do you know so much about this, Anakin?” she asks, though I sense her hesitation to do so. Perhaps she is afraid to know the truth.

I lower my eyes once again, my reply too terrible to say. “Because I helped him, Sola,” I tell her quietly. “I have spent the past 22 years of my life as Darth Vader, the right hand of Palpatine.”

Sola is silent, and I sense her fear, her revulsion and shock.

“But…how is that possible?” she cries. “How can you be Darth Vader?? You were my sister’s husband! Darth Vader was an inhuman monster! I don’t believe you, Anakin…it can’t be…”

I look up at her. “I wish it weren’t the truth, Sola; with all that I am, I wish it! But it’s true. It was me who helped Palpatine destroy the Jedi, his first command to me after I had become his apprentice.”

“But why?” she cried, her eyes full of tears. “Why, Anakin? You had such a good life, didn’t you?? You were a Jedi! A hero! And you were married to the woman you loved! Why did you throw it all away??”

I lower my eyes, no longer able to face her. “I did it to save her, Sola, to save Padmé.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she retorts coldly, brushing the tears away impatiently.

“No, to you I’m sure it doesn’t,” I concede. “But I swear it’s what happened. You see, the night Padmé told me she was pregnant…”

“She was pregnant??” she exclaims. “What happened to the child??”

“Let me finish,” I reply, trying to remain patient. “The night she told me she was pregnant I began having nightmares about her dying in childbirth. As a Jedi, I’d had prophetic dreams in the past, and so this terrified me. I was desperate to save her, to prevent the horrible visions of my dream from becoming reality. I was told by someone close to me, someone I trusted, that knowledge of the Dark Side of the Force would give me the power to save her life. I grasped onto that possibility like a drowning man, ignoring my vows to the Jedi Order, not stopping for a moment to think of the consequences of such a decision. All I could think about was saving Padmé, for I knew that I could not live without her.”

Sola’s eyes have softened as she listens to my tragic tale. “But you couldn’t save her, could you?” she asks.

I shake my head, my eyes welling up at the memory of that moment when I realized she was gone. “No,” I reply softly. “She died, and I nearly died in the fires of Mustafar. I lost my limbs, my lungs were utterly ruined; that is the reason I spent half my life in that terrible mask, kept alive by artificial means.”

“But not any more,” she points out. “What happened? How is that possible?”

I smile. “My son, Luke,” I tell her. “He is what happened.” I proceed to relate to her the story of my redemption, and Luke’s part in all of it, how his love for me finally pulled me from the Darkness that had consumed me for so long.

Sola wipes the tears as they roll down her face, too overwhelmed by my story to speak.

“Did Padmé know what had happened to you?” she asks at last. “Did she know of your…transformation to Darth Vader?”

“She knew that I had turned to the Dark Side,” I tell her. “I…I don’t know if she knew about my injuries before she died. I like to think that she was at least spared that.”

Sola nods. “Yes, I hope so too,” she says quietly. We are both silent for a moment, neither of us quite knowing what to say at this point. I feel relieved somehow to have told her the truth, as though somehow through her I am able to have a small portion of absolution.

“Time’s up, Skywalker,” announces the guard as he enters the small room.

I stand up, Sola does as well.

“Thank you for visiting me,” I tell her, meaning it genuinely. “It was good to see you after all this time. I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”

She nods. “How is this going to turn out, Anakin?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I know my son will do his best to have me exonerated, but I have to admit that I don’t have much hope. Darth Vader’s reign of terror was a long and violent one. There is much blood on my hands because of him.”

Sola frowns, disturbed by my words. “I hope they can see that you are the same person as him, Anakin,” she tells me. “I hope that that makes a difference in their eyes.”

I smile at her as the guard pulls me away towards the door. “I hope so too. Goodbye, Sola.”

“Goodbye Anakin,” she calls after me as I am escorted out the door.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 19

I return to my cell in silence, feeling utterly depressed. Seeing Padmé’s sister was an unexpected turn of events, and it has dredged up too many memories. Her shock and undisguised horror at learning of my descent into Darkness has left me full of guilt and regret, feelings I have become all too familiar with lately. Regret is such a bitter thing. For all the powers that I have been endowed with, I am helpless in its wake, powerless to change the past, although I’d give anything to do so.

Lost in my own thoughts, I do not immediately notice that there is but one guard escorting me back to my cell. Only one…how easy it would be to make an escape now! I am so tempted, that for a few moments my entire body tenses, preparing for flight. But then rational thought takes over. What purpose would it serve? Surely any escape attempt in my death, and while my life holds very little value for me, I must consider my son. I know that Luke would be devastated to lose me just as we are beginning to know one another. Luke…the one bright spot in my existence…the living proof that I have not always been a contemptible beast, and, besides his sister, all that I have left of my beloved Padmé… The thought of her sweet face rushes into my mind, and I must fight for composure. The guard, my nemesis, glances at me with contempt.

“Don’t even think about trying to run, Vader,” he tells me as we reach the detention block.

“I have no intention to do so,” I reply quietly, bridling under the use of that hated name.

“Too bad,” he replies. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than to shoot you down in your tracks.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I mutter, stopping as he deactivates the blast door. The hatred he feels for me is pungent, powerful, and it swirls around fiercely in his mind.

“For what it’s worth,” I say to his back. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

His body tenses visibly, and I sense his anger increase a degree. He says nothing in reply, but merely watches me as I enter the cell. I turn to him, watching him carefully, knowing that I must somehow reach this man if I am to endure my incarceration.

“I too know the pain of losing a loved one,” I add.

He looks at me now, his eyes narrowed in hatred. “Now that’s a good one, Vader,” he tells me. “What would you know about such a thing? I highly doubt you’ve ever loved anyone in your entire miserable life!”

I frown, fighting to control the anger that I feel bubbling up inside of me. He may hate me, even with justification; but how dare he insinuate that I have never loved! All that has happened to me, my fall from grace, has been for love. For the love of Her…

“Think what you will of Darth Vader,” I tell him, my words measured carefully. “But never imply that again. I have sacrificed much in my life for those I love.”

He looks at me, seeing the barely sheathed anger in my eyes, and for a brief moment I see fear in his eyes. Then he sneers at me again, taunting me yet further.

“You think I give a damn about you or your life?” he spits. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you killed your own mother, Vader. Seems like something you’d take p..”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. I snap, the fury in me flooding me entirely. I use the Force to slam him against the wall, and he hits it with a loud thud, his blaster flying out of his hand onto the metal floor. I use the Force to bring it to my hand, and with lightening speed, point it between his eyes.

“That was a mistake,” I tell him, my face mere inches from his, my hand resting on the wall beside his head. He is utterly terrified; I see it in his eyes, I feel the fear rolling off of him in great crashing waves.

“Go on and do it,” he tells me, managing his fear with great difficulty. He is certainly accustomed to dealing with dangerous criminals, but I highly doubt he has ever tangled with a Jedi before. “Your life won’t be worth wookiee crap if you do!”

I stare into his eyes, fighting the temptation to blast him to Hell. But that is the way of Darkness, a Darkness that I have rejected. How easily the anger still flows, though! It scares me how quickly the hatred fills me. I back off, dropping the blaster. Needa does not move for a moment, and the only sound heard is the sound of our breathing. He is confused, not sure what to do. Am I tricking him? Will I take the blaster again, or perhaps just use the Force to kill him? Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves away from the wall. He is in pain, no doubt having seriously bruised himself in the impact against the wall. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like I’m a dangerous animal. He bends down and picks up the blaster, training it squarely on my chest. He says nothing to me, but activates his COM link, calling for back up. I watch him as he backs away from me, towards the door. The sound of boots running on the metal floor in the corridor outside is heard as back up arrives. They activate the door and the force field is lifted to allow them entry.

“What’s going on?” asks the guard who enters first. I see that my ‘nephew’ is among the group.

“The bastard tried to kill me!” replies Needa, pointing at me with his blaster. “Knocked me against the wall and took my blaster!”

The guard looks back at me. By now I have calmed down, thanks to the Force, and am standing with my hands behind my back, the picture of tranquility.

“Is that so?” asks the leader of the group. “Was he provoked?”

Needa’s cheek twitches imperceptibly. “Not at all,” he lies. “I was just bringing him back from seeing his visitor.” I look at him, my eyes cold with barely restrained hatred.

“Is that true, Skywalker?” the leader asks me.

“Most of it,” I reply calmly.

“Most of it??” retorts the guard, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I did throw him against the wall,” I reply, my eyes meeting his. “But it was not an unprovoked attack,” I add, turning my gaze to Needa. He looks away, unable to face me.

“Yeah, just what I thought,” mutters the guard. “Let’s go, boys,” he says, turning to leave. He shoots Needa a significant look, and then the group leaves.

Needa turns to follow, and then turns back to me. “Don’t think that because you didn’t have the balls to kill me that this is over between us, Vader,” he tells me in a low voice. I say nothing, my eyes not leaving his, until he turns to leave. After he has gone out of sight, I sit down heavily on the hard bench that is my bed, run my hands through my now shaggy hair. Again I think, if only Sidious had killed me …if only…

“My former Padawan, you must not give in to despair this way.”

I look up to see Qui-Gon standing before me.

"I try not to, Master,” I reply wearily. “But it seems hopeless. Everything seems so pointless.”

“Everything?” he replies, his eyebrows raised slightly. “You are forgetting something, Anakin. You are the Chosen One,” he reminds me.

“Am I?” I ask. “Sometimes I have to wonder, Master Qui-Gon. Would the Chosen One have spent half of his life bent on wanton destruction? Woud the Chosen One have killed as many souls as I have? It seems wrong, Qui-Gon. How can I be the Chosen One if I have spent half my life in utter Darkness?”

Qui-Gon smiles at me. “You destroyed the Sith, Anakin. Or have you forgotten that?”

I look down. “Forget? How could I forget? My son nearly died because of Sidious.”

“But he didn’t die because you sacrificed yourself to save him,” he replies.

“Yes, I did. I would rather die than let my son be killed by that monster,” I tell him. “But does that one act make up for a lifetime of evil?” I ask, looking back up at him.

“I can’t say, Anakin,” he admits. “All I can say is that without having spent the past 20 years in Darkness, you may not have been able to destroy Sidious.”

I look at him quizzically. “I don’t understand, Master,” I admit.

“Perhaps part of being the Chosen One means spending time in Darkness,” he replies, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Perhaps in order to destroy the Sith you needed to be a Sith yourself, and that part of the burden of being the Chosen One is to endure the Darkness in order to destroy it.”

Burden…that is a fitting term…

“Is that what you truly believe, Master?” I ask him.

Qui-Gon nods. “Yes, Anakin, it is.”

I sigh, and look down at my boots. “Then why do I feel this way?” I ask him softly. “Why do I feel as though I am not worthy to live? Is that part of the Prophecy too?”

“You are feeling guilt, Anakin,” he tells me. “Guilt and remorse. You are human; it is only natural that you’d feel that way.”

“Then I will never know peace,” I say, my throat constricting.

Qui-Gon smiles again. “You will when you’ve found it in you heart to forgive yourself,” he tells me. “You must, Ani, or you will spend the rest of your days in misery.”

“But how can I do that?” I ask him. “I am responsible for the death of my wife; I tortured my own daughter, maimed my son…”

Qui-Gon puts him his hand to stop me from continuing.

“Your son loves you, and had already forgiven you,” he reminds me. “In time your daughter will as well.”

“And Padmé?” I ask softly, the tears filling my eyes. “Nothing can bring her back. Nothing can change what I did to her.”

“She forgave you, Anakin,” he tells me. “Or have you forgotten the vision you had of her on Coruscant?”

I shake my head. “That was nothing more than a beautiful dream, Qui-Gon, created by my need for her forgiveness... She is gone, and I will never have her forgiveness, never have the peace it would bring.”

Qui-Gon makes no reply, for there is nothing he can say. She is gone, and no amount of regret or atonement can bring her back to me.

The sound of the blast door opening is heard, and I look up. “It’s Luke,” I say, feeling his Force presence strongly. My son enters the room, and immediately notices that I am not alone.

“It is good to finally meet you, young Luke,” says Qui-Gon with a smile. “IQui-Gon Jinn.”

Luke’s eyes widen slightly. “You were my father’s first master,” he says.

Qui-Gon nods. “Yes, I was, and the first to recognize him as the Chosen One; something he has been doubting lately,” he adds, looking back at me.

Luke looks at me too. “Really?” he asks. “Why is that?”

I simply look at my son, tired of discussing this subject.

“Your father needs to forgive himself, Luke,” Qui-Gon tells him, still looking at me. “He must put the past behind him and fulfill his destiny as the Chosen One. You and he must rebuild the Jedi Order, Luke. That is the destiny that awaits you both.”

I can tell by my son’s reaction that he is pleased with Qui-Gon’s words. He looks at me with a smile.

“That would be like a dream come true,” he says softly.

I smile. “It would,” I concur. “But there is a small matter of my trial that you are both forgetting. I may not live to fulfill this destiny you are so determined is mine, Qui-Gon. They may very well execute me for the crimes I committed as Darth Vader.”

Luke’s face falls as I remind him of this sober fact.

“It will not come to that,” Qui-Gon states confidently. “I have foreseen it, Ani. You will not be executed.”

I frown, not wishing to give in to the hope that his words elicit in my heart. “I’m sorry, Master,” I tell him. “But I find that hard to believe. The galaxy hates me, with good reason. I deserve punishment for all that I’ve done.”

“But you’re not Darth Vader any longer!” cries Luke. “Surely they will see that! Surely the fact that you killed the emperor will prove it!”

“Your son is right, Anakin,” puts in Qui-Gon. “Yes, Darth Vader committed monstrous acts against the galaxy; but Anakin Skywalker is a hero. He saved the galaxy more than once. Weighed against one another, I think they will find that the good in you outweighs the evil of your past.”

I sigh deeply, and run my hands through my hair. “I wish I could believe it,” I say quietly. “I…”

My words are interrupted by the entry of a small group of guards into my cell. Needa is among them.

I stand up to face them. “What is going on?” I ask suspiciously, sensing the tension in the men before me.

“You are being moved,” the first guard tells me, aiming his weapon at me.

“Why are you moving my father?” asks Luke immediately, no doubt sensing the same trouble that I do.

“He used his sorcerer’s powers against a man,” replies the guard, not looking at my son. “He needs to be put somewhere with stricter security.”

Luke and I look at one another. Qui-Gon’s image is somehow unnoticed by the men, or perhaps they are unable to see him because they lack the Force ability to do so; he too has a look of concern on his face. Did you foresee this too, Master?

“What happened?” he asks me.

I look at Needa, who avoids my eyes. “Someone provoked me to violence,” I tell him. “I used the Force. It was stupid, I know…but I couldn’t help it. You can only take so much abuse before you feel compelled to retaliate,” I add, glaring at Needa. Luke turns and looks at my antagonist, knowing that it is he I am referring to.

“You are a dangerous man,” continues the guard. “and we are going to make sure that you can’t lash out like that again should you be further…provoked,” he finishes, saying the final word with a hint of sarcasm.

“What are you going to do to my father?” asks Luke, using the Force to amplify his question.

“He will be restrained,” replies the guard at once. “And placed in a room with a ysalarmi,” he adds.

My blood runs cold as I process this information. No…not that…In the presence of a ysalarmi my ability to use the Force will be stripped away, leaving me utterly blind, utterly alone.

“What is that?” asks Luke, obviously unaware of the existence of the loathsome creature.

“A ysalarmi is an eel like creature that blocks one’s ability to tap into the Force,” I tell my son.

Luke’s face clearly shows his horror at the thought of such a thing.

“Let’s go, Vader,” the guard tells me, motioning for me to stand as his three companions train their weapons on me. I am manacled, both my wrists and my ankles. My son watches the guards in silent anguish, torn between his impulse to help me and the reasoning that tells him it would only result in bloodshed.

Qui-Gon watches too, seemingly unperturbed by the turn of events. What does he know that I don’t?

I am taken to another part of the detention block, down a narrow flight of stairs, and down and other corridor. The ceiling is lower here, and I must bend lest I hit my head on it. Finally we stop. Luke has followed, and I know that he feels my dread, my terror…

“Welcome home, Lord Vader,” pronounces the guard sarcastically as they shove me into the dark, cavernous cell. I fall to the floor, unable to block my fall. My cheek makes contact with the concrete floor, it is damp and cold. The moisture from the walls has created a musty, pungent odor in the room, and the thought of spending endless hours in here fills me with dread. Luke rushes to help me up, his emotions barely contained. Part of me is grateful for his warmth and compassion; but another part of me is ashamed for him to see me treated like an animal.

“Get back, Skywalker,” orders the guard, addressing Luke.

“He’s injured,” retorts Luke angrily. “His face is bleeding.”

“A little scrape won’t kill him,” retorts one of the other guards with a smirk. “After all the blood he’s shed, he should be willing to shed a little himself,” he adds, as the other guards snicker in agreement.

Luke grows angry, I can feel it, and I look at him quickly, warning him silently not to do anything rash. I can see his torment in his eyes, and it adds to my misery.

“Over here, Vader,” a guard orders me, pushing me towards the wall. My eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to see a chain attached to the wall. I know now that I can sink no lower.

The guards remove the manacles on my ankles and replace them with the large metal ring on the end of the chain that is attached to the wall. The chain is just long enough for me to reach the cot and the toilet in the corner, but no more.

“Is this really necessary??” asks Luke at last, unable to hold back his anger any longer.

“Yes,” replies the guard who is testing the strength of the chain’s attachment to the wall. “Your father is a dangerous criminal. I shouldn’t have to tell you that, Skywalker.”

My hands are released, and I rub at my wrists as another guard enters the room, carrying a small cage. As soon as he does so, I feel as I have been submerged in water. I cannot feel the Force, and it is a terrifying feeling. Luke feels it too, and we exchange an anguished look.

“Father,” he whispers, his voice hushed with the unspoken horror he feels.

I nod at him, trying to reassure him; but without the Force, our connection is broken. It is agony not to feel Luke’s presence in my mind – ever since I first learned of his existence, even before we met on that fateful day in Cloud City; we have been linked to one another through the Force. His presence in my life has been the bright spot, the only source of joy in my life for so long; and now I can no longer feel him. It is agony!

“It will be alright, Son,” I tell him, trying to sound like I believe it. He reaches out to me, and, for the first time, I embrace my son tightly. I close my eyes as the emotions fill me, fighting to control them. I will not let these men see me in despair; I will not give them the satisfaction of knowing how close they are to breaking me…

“Let’s go, Skywalker,” the guards order. “No visitors in the hole.”

“What??” Luke cries, turning and looking at them. “You can’t be serious!”

“Afraid so,” answers the guard, enjoying the moment immensely. “Out.”

Luke looks back at me, tears shrouding his brilliant eyes. “I will get you out of here, Father,” he tells me in a low voice. “I swear to you!”

I only nod, not even daring to hope that he will.

I am left then, alone in my cage with the monster that has left me blind to the Force. I stare at it as it too sits in its cage, obvious to the torment it has thrown me into. I walk over to the cot, sit down on it. It creaks under my weight. My eyes survey the surroundings, almost wishing I were unable to see anything in this dank, depressing hole. The presence of the vile beast in my cell is a source of constant pain to me, and I glare in its direction. Surely the Alliance has laws, conventions regarding the treatment of prisoners! I know only too well how the Empire treats its prisoners; somehow I expected more from the rebels. But Naboo’s involvement in the Rebellion has always been negligible, and perhaps in the months since the death of Palpatine it has managed to reestablish its sovereignty. The Rebel Alliance would certainly want me dead… I reflect grimly. There would be no measure of mercy in their judgment of me, no matter that I am no longer the monster who persecuted them for two decades….

I close my eyes, lost without the Force to guide me and comfort me in this, my hour of most dire need. Worse, my connection with my son has been severed. Luke…I am lost without you my son…I am blind and stumbling in the dark without your bright and soothing presence in my mind and in my heart…if my captors were endeavoring to find the worst way to punish me, then indeed they have succeeded. I lay back on the cot, which, of course, is too short for my long legs. I cannot ever remember feeling so alone.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 20

I am in a meadow in springtime, surrounded by tall grass and wild flowers. Above me in the cloudless sky, a single sun shines brilliantly, bathing me in warmth. I shield my eyes, squinting against the brightness to watch as someone approaches me. My heart beings to race as I see who it is, see the face of my beloved angel as she smiles at me. I stand to meet her, holding my arms out to her. In an instant she is in my embrace, her tiny body pressed to mine. The scent of her surrounds me, my entire body afire with my need of her. She is my very soul, for I know that without her I would be an empty shell. I bend to her, my hand moves to her face to draw a loose tendril of hair from her brow. She looks up at me, pure adoration radiating from her, filling her luminous brown eyes.

“I love you, Padmé,” I tell her, holding her precious face reverently in my hands. “I have always loved you, from the moment we first met. My life would be meaningless without you.”

She smiles, gently caressing my face with her tiny hands, her touch electrifying me. “I love you too, Ani,” she replies, her voice silken and soft like her hair and her ivory skin. I draw her face to mine and kiss her, pouring my love, my passion and my desperate need for her into the kiss. She responds with equal ardor, our bodies so close that it seems we are but one being in our embrace. I feel Padmé’s hands move to the fastens of my tunic, as I slip the straps of her gown off of her milky shoulders. Without breaking our kiss, we slowly sink to the grass, lost in the urgency of our need…

My beautiful vision ends abruptly by the prodding of a blaster barrel into my side. I am startled, a feeling I am most decidedly not fond of nor accustomed to, and I open my eyes.

“Rise and shine,” the guard announces cheerily.

Damn you…

“Why did you wake me?” I grumble, sitting up. “Just for kicks?”

The guard snorts. “Yeah, right,” he replies gruffly. “You have a visitor.”

It has been two weeks since my confinement in ‘the hole’, and in that time I have only been let out when Luke has come. I am only permitted to be out of the hole for thirty minutes at a time, only once a day, and never, ever, without the accompaniment of the detestable ysalarmi.

“Mustn’t forget your roomie,” says the guard, indicating the thing in the cage. “Can’t have you working your magic tricks on anyone, can we Vader?”

I sigh, standing up to tower over the man. “No,” I reply. “Of course we can’t.”

I do not need the Force to tell me that the man is momentarily intimidated by my imposing stature. He steps away from me as a second guard enters the cell and proceeds to bind my ankles and wrists. I submit without a word or a struggle; I know any recalcitrance would only result in physical abuse.

“Let’s go, Vader,” my custodian orders, shoving me out the door. I forget how low the ceiling is and slam into the door frame. I see stars for a moment, as the guards chuckle behind me. I throw them a dirty look, which only earns me another shove in the back.

I know the way well by now, having memorized it. Why, I’m not quite sure; it certainly isn’t likely that I shall ever have occasion to escape, especially now that my Force abilities have been taken from me. I guess that my visitor is Luke, for since my visit from Sola, he has been the only one to come see me in this hell hole. Even my visits from Qui Gon have ceased now that I am unable to connect to the Force. But Luke, ever faithful Luke, comes each day without fail. And although I cannot feel his emotions at this time, I know how difficult this is for him. I know that the connection we share is just as important to him as it is to me.

As predicted, it is Luke who awaits me. He is standing in the doorway of the small visitors’ room. I smile when I see him, enormously happy that he is here. He frowns when he sees me, looking at my forehead. I realize that I am bleeding, and wipe at the blood with the back of my manacled hands.

“Leave that …that thing out here,” Luke tells the guard, looking with undisguised disgust at the ysalarmi in its cage. “It is immensely painful to me and my father.”

The guard snorts. “That’s the idea,” he retorts. “This isn’t a resort we’re running here.”

“Yes, I know all too well the sort of place you’re running here,” Luke replies evenly. “Nevertheless, I am not an inmate, and I demand that you keep that thing away from me.”

I am proud of my son, and watch the guard’s reaction with interest.

“Your father’s life is in your hands then, Skywalker,” he replies at last. “He so much as looks at one of us the wrong way and I’ll blast his hide straight to Hell. Got it?”

Luke nods, his eyes never leaving those of the guard.

To my great relief, I am allowed to join my son in the small room without the dreadful creature that has enslaved me. As soon as I am out of its presence, I can feel the change within me. It is as though I have been endlessly submerged in water, and am finally up for a breath of air. I close my eyes and drink in the glorious feeling, reconnecting in the process with my son. As I do so, I realize that he is not alone, and I open my eyes to see my daughter, Leia, sitting at the small table.

“Leia,” I say, pleased and surprised to see her. “I’m….I’m so happy to see you,” I tell her awkwardly. I sense the conflicting emotions in her, chaotic in their struggle for supremacy. She says nothing, but merely looks at Luke, seeking guidance and support. I know it must have taken a great deal of convincing on his part to get her to come here, and I am grateful that he was willing to try.

I sit down across from her, with Luke at my side. I examine her face, marveling how much she looks like my beloved Padmé. How did I not see it before? Her eyes are the exact shade of brown, the same shape…even the way she carries herself is the image of her mother.

“I’m glad you came,” I say again, desperate to connect with her. “There is so much I need to tell you, so much I want to say to you.”

Leia’s eyes turn to me at last, and in their dark depths I see so much; fear, confusion, mistrust…she is going through what Luke went through after our encounter on Bespin: the same conflicting emotions, the same reticence, the same desperate need for answers. But will she be as accepting of me as Luke has been?

“I have some things to say to you too,” she replies.

I nod. “Of course you do,” I say gently. “I can only imagine how you are feeling now that you know the truth.”

I see a flash of anger in her eyes. “Can you?” she replies, her voice carefully controlled. “Can you imagine what it feels like to learn that your most hated enemy is in fact your father?”

I look down at the binders on my wrists, bracing myself for her barrage.

“I don’t suppose I can,” I say quietly. I look back up at her. “You have a lot to say, I can see that. Go ahead. Let it all out. I know you need to.”

Leia looks at Luke as though looking for his approval. Luke says nothing, but I sense in him a sadness that worries me. Does he already know where his sister’s heart lies?

“First of all, let me say thank you for saving Luke’s life,” she begins, to my surprise. “Luke means a great deal to me, and I can’t imagine losing him. You have my gratitude for saving him the way you did.”

“Luke means a great deal to me too,” I reply, my eyes steadily on hers. “I love him, just as I love you, Leia. I would do anything to save either of you, even if it meant my own life.”

Leia looks away from me, unsure what to make of my words. She is confused, and I sense that she is greatly conflicted.

“I’d like to believe that,” she says at last, her eyes cast down. “I’d like nothing more than to accept you and forgive you the way I know Luke has. But I’m not so sure I can do that.” she looks up at me again. “I look at you and I see so much of myself, so much of Luke; but at the back of my mind I know that you have spent the last 22 years as Darth Vader. You have caused so much pain and suffering to the people I love, and that is something I can never forgive. You stood by and allowed the destruction of my home, along with the people who raised me, the only parents I ever knew, and that is something I can never forgive. But it’s not just about me. You have, without conscience, committed acts of unspeakable cruelty, immoral and heinous acts! Your deeds of violence are renown through out the galaxy, your name synonymous with evil.” She stops, her face flushed with anger and agitation. I say nothing, and for a moment she merely looks into my eyes, hoping, perhaps, to see there what she needs to see. “I…I know you have changed,” she admits. “I can see it in your eyes, feel it somehow…but the past cannot be changed.”

“No, Leia,” I put in as she takes a moment to collect her thoughts. “It cannot be changed. If it were possible, I swear to you that I would give my life a thousand times over to change it! I would give anything to be able to undo all the destruction that I have had a hand in, to heal all the pain that I have caused. But I cannot. All I can do is spend what is left of my life trying to make up for it. I feel as though I have been given a second chance at life, something that is rarely afforded to anyone. I believe that there is a reason I was given that chance, I truly do. I have had a lot of time to think these past few months, and that conclusion is inescapable. I have a purpose; I have an obligation to atone for my past. What I need from you, my daughter, is the chance to do that. Will you let me, Leia? Will you allow me the chance to prove to you that I have changed? Can you get past all the hurt I know is inside of you to let me try?”

Leia is silent, but I can see that my words have affected her. Her resolve to hate me is wavering; I am not what she expected. Yet deep within her still lurks so much anger, so much fear; it frightens me, for it reminds me so much of myself at her age. How do I communicate to her that her feelings are dangerous, without sounding like a hypocrite? I look to Luke for help.

“Please, Leia,” he says, taking her hand in his. “The galaxy needs him. He has so much to offer, so much to give. And he loves us, Leia. Can’t you feel that? Can’t you see how much he has changed? How deeply he needs both of us?”

Leia turns her eyes from Luke back to me, the tears in them shining as she struggles to master her emotions.

“I know he’s changed,” she says softly, wiping at a tear as it runs down her cheek. “I …I want so badly to get to where you are, Luke, truly I do! But I’m not ready yet. It’s been too soon! I am still reeling from the knowledge that Darth Vader is my father!”

“But he is no longer Darth Vader,” puts in Luke. “He is Anakin Skywalker again!” I sense that this conversation is not a new one between my children. Leia seems as stubborn and intractable as ever, just like her father…

“Luke, your sister must find her own way,” I tell him at last, putting a hand on his arm gently. “She must find it in her heart to accept me or not. Either way, I will honor her decision,” I add, turning to look at her.

“Will you?” asks Leia, an eyebrow cocked. “Your single mindedness is rather legendary.”

“Yes, much like yours,” I counter with a smile.

Luke covers his mouth to conceal a chuckle, earning him a dirty look from his twin.

“You have my word,” I tell her at last, fixing her with my gaze.

She looks into my eyes, searching within them for a moment, then finally nods, satisfied with my promise.

“We have news, Father,” Luke says. “Hopefully, good news.”

I turn my eyes to him, my eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What is that?” I ask him.

“You are being moved to Coruscant tomorrow,” Leia tells me. “The leaders of the Alliance wish to see to your trial themselves.”

I frown, a feeling of cold dread filling me.

“And how is this good news?” I ask, looking from Leia to Luke.

“Well, for one thing you won’t be subjected to the physical abuse you’ve had here,” replies Luke. “The Alliance is very strict about treatment of its prisoners.”

I nod, grateful at least for that much. “While I welcome that news,” I reply, “I do not doubt that the outcome will not change. I’m sure that the Alliance has already condemned me.”

“What do you expect?” retorts Leia hotly. “Did you really expect them to forgive and forget all that you’ve done to destroy their cause?”

I look back at my daughter, seeing the anger and indignation in her eyes. “There is much anger in you, child,” I tell her solemnly. “It scares me how much of myself I see in you.”

This comment startles her at first, perhaps because she knows it to be true. Then she becomes angry. “I am nothing like you!” she cries. “How dare you imply otherwise??”

I continue to face her, feeling the terrible anguish within her. It scares her, for she knows that I am right.

“Leia,” says Luke gently, reaching out to his sister. “Don’t. He didn’t mean to upset you...”

“Like hell he didn’t!” she retorts angrily. “To even think that I am anything like him is…is...”

“Terrifying?” I offer, holding her eyes with mine. “Isn’t that it, Leia? The thought that you carry my genes is terrifying to you, isn’t it? The thought that maybe, just maybe, you have within you the same darkness that caused me to become the monster you loathe.” I can see that I have hit a nerve. Her eyes are wide, and I see in them tremendous fear. “You also carry your mother’s genes, Leia, don’t forget. And I see far more of her in you than me,” I conclude, giving her a sad smile.

The mention of her mother softens Leia, and the tears start again. “My mother?” she asks softly. “You...you think I’m like her?”

I nod, my own emotions flooding through me. “Yes, very much. You have the same spirit, the same passion for justice and democracy…and you are the very image of her,” I finish, my voice faltering. I look away, the image of my beloved flashing through my mind. I close my eyes, fighting for control. My children are silent, both as moved as I am. I open my eyes and look at Leia again. “But there is also part of me in you, Leia; your quickness to anger, your refusal to bend, to forgive, and your fear of losing anyone you love; that was me at your age. That is what worries me, for it was that anger and fear that led me to the Dark Side. You have the same abilities as your brother, Leia, for I feel how strongly the Force is with you. If you cannot learn to control your anger, I fear that you will fall into Darkness.”

She is shocked by my words and says nothing at first. I can see that in her mind she is trying to process what I have said. Perhaps I was too harsh…perhaps I have spoken too frankly.

“I don’t want to hear any more,” she says at last, her voice quiet. “You have gone too far, V…” she stops just short of addressing me by that hated name. Yet, she is not ready to call me Father. Not that I’m surprised by that…

“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You must understand that I have only your best intentions at heart, Leia. I know you don’t believe that right now, but I swear that it’s true. If you look inside yourself, if you search your feelings, I think you will see that I am telling the truth.”

Leia frowns, obviously not happy with my ability to read her so well. She turns to Luke, unable to face me any longer.

“And as for the trial,” I say, addressing them both. “No, I expect no leniency. I deserve whatever punishment I am given.”

Both my children look at me, neither quite knowing what to say.

The door opens, and I know that our time is up.

“Back to the hole, Vader,” the guard announces.

“His name is Skywalker,” Luke says vehemently. “Vader is dead. You would do well to remember that.”

The guard seems unaffected, and merely shrugs. “Whatever,” he mutters, taking my arm as I stand up.

“We’ll be back for you tomorrow, Father,” Luke tells me, walking beside me as I am escorted out the door.

I nod my understanding. “I’ll see you then. May the Force be with you, my son,” I tell him. I look back at Leia. “And with you as well, Leia.”

She merely nods in response, and then I am pulled out the door.

I feel my son’s hand upon my shoulder and turn to him. “This will all be over soon,” he tells me. I see the love and hope in his eyes, and it fills me with guarded optimism.

“One way or another,” I reply with a smile. “Thank you, Luke.”
“For what?”

“For not giving up on me,” I reply. “For believing in me. It’s been so long since someone has.”

Luke is moved by my words, and he merely smiles back at me, and watches helplessly as I am lead away once again.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 21

Coruscant… the thought of going back there both excites me and fills me with cold fear. The rebel leaders are quickly becoming the New Republic, picking up the pieces of the decaying Empire as it slowly self-destructs. I know that the Alliance will relish the thought of having me at their mercy, and will ensure that I am punished. It is what I deserve though; I need to atone for my crimes.

Yet part of me, the larger part I have to admit, longs to use my enormous skills to help heal the galaxy. Would not that be the best way for me to repay my debt? It seems an enormous waste to lock me away for the rest of my life, or to kill me outright, when I have so much to offer. I was the most famous, the most powerful warrior of my generation; no Jedi Knight ever knew the power that I have! Having spent a lifetime using those powers for nefarious ends, I feel compelled, driven even to turn them to good. Is the Alliance so hell bent on punishing me that they will ignore what I have to offer? Are they so unwilling to see that I have changed that they will simply refuse to give me the chance to prove my worth to them?

I run my hands through my hair; my mind and heart troubled by what I sense will be a difficult few days. My children are coming to bring me to Coruscant tomorrow, and, I am sure, the leaders of the burgeoning new government will decide my fate. Will they give me a chance to speak, I wonder, or have they already decided upon my destiny? I feel helpless as I wait, completely at the mercy of those who were once my enemies. Now they are in control, they are to determine my fate.

I remember a time, not that long ago in fact, when ruling the galaxy was all I wanted. I was consumed by my lust for power, driven to commit unspeakable acts, rationalizing them by calling them ‘justice’. What a fool…what a pompous, ignorant ass I have been….now I know that all that truly matters is the love of the people you are close to. Love, forgiveness, peace…that is all I crave now. Ironic really, that I could have had all those things had I just listened to Padmé, if I had only gone with her when she begged me to.

The bitterness of my regret fills me, making my despair even greater as I sit alone, but for the hideous creature that sits in the corner of my cell. What I would give now to have that life that she wanted, to spend the rest of my days living in peace with my family. Will I ever know peace? Is it the lot of the Chosen One to never know its sweet embrace? Am I to spend my whole life grasping for it in vain?

My mind does not allow me to fall asleep for what feels like an eternity. The tension in my body makes the already uncomfortable cot feel like solid rock. If only I could use the Force to relax! Sleep always came easily before the dreams, before the Darkness…

Sleep, when it does finally come, is fitful, full of disjointed imaged I cannot connect. The incessant drip of water in my cell pervades my sleeping mind, making me dream of deep, watery places.

I have always been deathly afraid of deep water; any normal desert dweller is. I wake up struggling to surface, perhaps metaphoric of my life. I have no way of reckoning time in the hole, but my stomach tells me that it must be close to morning. I stand up and stretch, the cheap prison-issue fabric straining against my shoulders and back. I feel so dirty, for it has been days since I was given the privilege of a shower. I rub at my chin, where I find several days’ worth of beard has grown since my last shave. I smile as a memory blossoms in my mind…

The Clone Wars have raged on now for nearly a full year. I have been given furlough for two days, and am anxious to see my angel. It seems forever for the lift to bring me to our apartment, where I know she will be waiting for me. The doors open, and there she is, looking as beautiful and radiant as I had imagined her to look. She runs into my arms, and we lock in a passionate embrace. She pulls back from me and looks up into my face. “Ani,” she chides gently, with a smile on her face, “when was the last time you shaved?”

I laugh, rubbing my chin. “It has been a few days,” I admit sheepishly. “I’ve been rather busy lately. Should I shave now before we…well...”

Padmé laughs. “Oh no,” she replies, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me to her again. “I like it,” she says, looking up at me with a seductive gleam in her eyes. “It makes you look…dangerous..”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised by her choice of words. “Oh does it now?” I ask a rakish grin on my face. She merely nods in response. “Why yes, Milady,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes and trying to give her my best dangerous-guy look. “I’m dangerous; alright…you have no idea...”

She giggles at me, and the sound of it is like a balm on my soul. I lift her into my arms and kiss her, and then carry her up to our bed, my mouth never leaving hers…

I sigh, the memory bittersweet. Our time together was always so short; it seemed that I was always leaving her. And I was never strong enough to say good-bye to her, never able to face her tears; so I would leave in the wee hours of the morning, kiss her as she slept and slip out as the fingers of early dawn invaded our room. I hated doing it, hated leaving her like that, but both of us were terrified that our secret would be discovered. I had to do everything I could not to arouse the suspicions of my Master, or any of the other members of the Jedi Council. Obi-Wan would always be waiting for me, never suspecting that his dutiful padawan had spent the night making love to the woman he loved. Obi-Wan…a pang of remorse settles into my heart as I think of him now. I was so bitter, so angry when we last met- I know now that I must get past these feelings of resentment I harbor towards him. I must get past Mustafar, forgive him for what happened there if I expect the galaxy to forgive me my trespasses. Yet I cannot help but be resentful for the way he manipulated my son, as though he was grooming him to kill me one day, ridding himself once and for all of my troublesome existence. I need to know why, I decide, I need to hear Obi-Wan’s justification, his explanation for what he did. I only hope that it is enough to allow me to put aside my anger where he is concerned, for I know that I must if I am ever to know peace within myself.

I hear the sound of the outer door being opened and wait for the guard to appear with my breakfast. I am relieved to see that it is Len, Sola’s son-in-law.

“Time to go,” he informs me.

“Go?” I reply, watching him unlock my shackles.

“I thought you might like to clean up before your children get here,” he explains. “Mrs. Naberrie sent some new clothes for you. She kind of noticed yours don’t exactly fit you properly,” he says handing me a package, a wry smile on his face.

I smile, grateful for Sola’s compassion and thoughtfulness. “Thank her for me,” I reply, taking the package from him. “I’m grateful to you both for your kindness.”

Len gives me a nod. “Come on then,” he says. “Let’s go.”

What a joy it is to feel clean again! I savor the warm water, closing my eyes as I revel in the sensation of it against my skin. My hair is long now, at least as long as it was on that dreadful day back on Mustafar. Padmé always liked it long...I reflect with a smile.

I step out of the shower and dry off. I am still amazed that I am fully human again, my body showing little evidence of the horrible accident that befell me. I have spent the idle hours of my incarceration working out, and my body is leaner than it has been for years, but muscular, and fit. I shave, and tie my long wet hair back behind my head. Next I open the package that Sola provided, pull out a pair of dark blue trousers, shirt and a pair of black boots. The clothes are comfortable and fit me well, and again I feel a surge of gratitude to my wife’s sister.

“Well?” I ask as I leave the ‘fresher and meet up with Len who is waiting for me in the corridor.

“You look great,” he replies with a smile. “Like a new man.”

I smile, looking down at myself. “Thanks to you and Sola. I can’t thank you enough, Len. You’re a good man.”

He shrugs, embarrassed by my praise. “Don’t thank me,” he says. “You deserve to be treated with respect. I know that we haven’t known one another for very long, but I can see that you are an honorable man. You aren’t Darth Vader any more, anyone can see that. I only hope that…that, well…”

“I know, and I thank you,” I say. I hold out my hands to him. He looks at them, and then up at me, his eyes reflecting the conflict he feels at binding me like a common criminal.

“Don’t feel badly,” I tell him, seeing his mind. “You are doing your job.”

He nods, startled at first by my ability to read him, for the ysalarmi is back in my cell, thankfully. He binds my wrists again, but leaves my ankles, for the leather boots prevent him from slipping the binders around them. I follow him down the corridor where we are met by another two guards.

“Where’s the beast?” asks one of the men, a look of panic on his face.

“He’s not going anywhere,” assures Len. “His kids are here, he’d be foolish to try anything now.”

The guards nod, but are not convinced that I won’t lash out at them all. I do not, of course, and follow them up the winding stone staircase, feeling overjoyed to leave this wretched place.

Luke and Leia are waiting for me near the entrance of the facility, along with two armed rebel soldiers. I suppose the rebel leaders do not trust that I will turn on my own children in transit, so they felt the need for an armed escort. How little they know me! If they knew that I would gladly lay down my life for either of them, they would not have felt the need to send the guards…

Luke smiles at me as I approach, and Leia watches with more guarded interest than her brother.

“You look fantastic!” declares Luke as I reach them.

I smile. “Well, a shower and shave will do a man wonders.” I turn to Leia. “What do you think?”

She looks at me, the hint of a smile on her face. “A vast improvement,” she replies wryly. “It’s …nice to see what your face looks like.”

I smile at her. “Yes, the growth was getting a little out of hand,” I reply, rubbing my cleanly shaven chin thoughtfully. “I’m glad you approve of your old man.”

Leia raises an eyebrow. “Old?” she answers. “You can’t be more than 40. I’m quite surprised actually how young you are.”

Obviously Luke has told her nothing of the conversation he and I had back in the medical frigate, which troubles me. I feel as though I have made some progress with my daughter; will it all be undone once she learns the truth about what happened to her mother?

“Time to go,” reports one of the soldiers. “We’re expected at Coruscant within 24 hours, Commander Skywalker.”

“Very well,” replies Luke. “Shall we, Father?”

I nod, and then turn back to Len. “I want to thank you again for your kindness, young man,” I say, shaking his hand. “You don’t know what it meant to me.”

He smiles, shaking my hand in return. “Don’t mention it. I only hope that we, all three of us, can meet up again some time on more friendly ground. I know my wife would love to meet her cousins,” he adds, looking at my children.

“As we would like to meet her,” replies Luke. He extends a hand to his cousin. “Good bye, Len. Thanks for watching out for our father.”

We leave, the five of us, me flanked by my two children with the two soldiers following.

“Sorry about them,” Luke tells me, nodding towards the armed men. “It was one of the stipulations of letting us escort you back.”

I nod. “I understand, Luke. I suppose they think I’d even use my own children as a means of escape.”

“Or else we’d help you,” put in Leia. “Not that we would.” She adds quickly. I look at her and smile, sensing that she has come a long way towards her acceptance of me.

“No, I wouldn’t allow that,” I tell her. “You are so much like your mother, Leia. She never failed to do her duty, so honorable she was.”

Leia looks at me and I sense her pleasure at hearing the words. “Thank you,” she replies simply.

The trip to Coruscant is a strange one. I sit with my two children, and though their physical proximity to me is equal, I feel that they are light years apart emotionally. Luke is full of questions, asking me about the Clone Wars, about my Jedi training, Obi-Wan; everything he has yearned to know all the years we’ve spent apart. As for my daughter, I know that she is listening, though she is doing an excellent job of appearing decidedly uninterested. I sense that she wants to ask me as many questions as her brother; but her stubbornness and pride prevents her from doing so. She is so like me it’s frightening…I wonder why I didn’t see it before.

“Leia, did you know that our mother was a queen?” Luke asks, trying to draw her into the conversation.

Leia looks surprised. “No, I didn’t know that,” she replies. “Of what planet?”

“Naboo,” I reply. “She was elected to two terms as their queen. In fact, the people wanted to make an amendment to the constitution to allow her to serve a third term, she was so well loved.”

Leia smiles, obviously pleased and proud to hear it. “I had no idea,” she says softly. “She must have been an exceptional person.”

I nod, my eyes on hers, hoping to soften her resolve to mistrust me. “She was, Leia. Accomplished, intelligent, courageous, beautiful…there aren’t enough words to describe her. She was a queen at the age of 14, that tells you something about her right there.”

“Wow,” says Luke softly. “That’s truly remarkable. But you didn’t know she was a queen when you met her, did you?”

“No,” I reply with a smile. “She was disguised as one of her handmaidens. I had no idea that the compassionate, beautiful young girl I met back in Watto’s junk shop was in fact Queen Amidala. All I knew was that she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on.” I smile as I remember my first words to her. “In fact, the very first words I said to her were to ask her if she was an angel.” I stop as I remember that magical moment, the image of her face as clear in my mind as it was 35 years ago.

“And what did she say when you asked her that?” asks Leia.

I look at her and smile. “She told me I was a strange little boy,” I tell her. Both of them laugh, and I am heartened to see my daughter finally starting to accept who I am. I tell them all about the podrace, about our friendship, and how we were reunited so many years later. My children listen in fascination, hungrily absorbing the knowledge that has been withheld from them all their lives. It saddens me to know that they will never know their mother, never see for themselves how truly remarkable she was. As I speak of her, my children watch me closely. I know that Luke is attuned to my thoughts, my emotions; is Leia yet capable of making that connection? I know she and Luke are linked now; is she willing yet to touch my mind? If she would, then she would know the depth of my love for her, for all of them; she would understand the profoundness of my sorrow and loss.

“Did you love her?” Leia asks at last, her eyes fixed on mine. I know it took a great deal of effort to bring herself to ask the question, for no doubt it has been eating away at her ever since she first learned the truth of her parentage.

“Yes, Leia,” I tell her. “With every fiber of my being I loved her. Your mother was my soul mate; when I lost her, a part of me died. It was the fear of losing her that led me to the Dark Side.”

Leia frowns. “What do you mean?” she asks. “What did Mother have to do with your decision to become an agent of the emperor?”

I sense the unspoken indignation in her question, yet I carry on nonetheless. “I dreamed of your mother dying, Leia; the dream haunted me, day and night. I had foreseen the death of my own mother years earlier, in a recurring dream. I was terrified that I would lose Padmé the way I’d lost my mother. I was determined not to let it happen, and so I sought out the powers of the Dark Side of the Force, believing it would enable me to prevent her death. I know now that I was used, tricked into subservience by the emperor, for it was he who told me that it was only through the Dark Side that I would be able to save her life. He had plotted to use me as his apprentice for years, only I was too naïve and foolish to see it.”

Leia is silent as she listens, her face troubled. “How did she die?” she asks softly.

I knew this was coming; there was really no avoiding it. “The truth is, Leia, I’m not entirely sure how she died,” I tell her. “I know she died shortly after you and Luke were born. You see, I was engaged in a terrible battle with my former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and nearly died when I was consumed by the lava that covered the planet we fought on. That is the reason I was forced to wear the respirator and mask for so long, though I know now that it wasn’t necessary, that I could have been spared that…nevertheless, I didn’t know until many years later that you’d even survived, and believed you had died along with her.”

“She died in childbirth? Is that what you’re saying?” Leia asks, her voice betraying her distress at the thought of this.

I sigh, wishing I had answers for my daughter. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I think there was more to it than that. Obi-Wan was with her when she died, and he claims that she died of a broken heart, because of what happened to me, because I turned to the Dark Side, because in the end I even turned on her.”

Leia listens, and I can sense in her the anguish and horror at this information. “What? You turned on her??” she cries.

I nod, emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “I was consumed by Darkness, Leia; try to understand. I believed she had betrayed me, that she had brought Kenobi to Mustafar to kill me. The Darkness had twisted my mind. Ironic that it was in order to save her that I embraced the Dark Side, and in the end…it destroyed us both.” I did not want to tell her the truth of that terrible day, not yet, not now. We have come so far, and I don’t want to jeopardize that. I know, however, that I cannot hide the ugly truth from her forever…

“It’s so tragic,” says Luke at this point. “So terribly tragic. You wanted to save her, I can feel it Father, I know how desperate you were to save her. To think that you lost her after all…” he stops, too emotional to continue. I look at Leia, seeing that she too is moved.

“You turned to the Dark Side to save Mother?” she asks, trying desperately to understand. “Is that what you’re telling us?”

I nod. “Yes, Leia. I was so desperate to save her, so terrified that I would lose her that I grasped wildly at anything, any chance to save her. In the end it was our undoing. The knowledge that she was gone was the final push to the Darkness, for when I lost her, I lost my soul. All that remained was Darkness; Darth Vader was the embodiment of that Darkness. When I learned of your brother’s existence, after the destruction of the first Death Star, I knew that Palpatine had lied to me all those years ago about the way your mother died. When I learned that my child, our child, had not died, I knew that he had used me, and it was then that my heart began to change. After I met Luke on Bespin, the conflict truly began.”

“Conflict?” she asks.

“Yes, the conflict between the man I was, and the thing I had become,” I explain. “Between Luke’s father, the man who loved him and his mother with all his heart, and the agent of evil that loved nothing and no one. I think the final push was finding out about you, Leia. That was so unexpected, for I had no idea that Padmé was carrying twins. I was so shaken by that knowledge that it weakened my hold on the Dark Side even more. Anakin Skywalker was winning out over Darth Vader, growing stronger by the minute. And when the emperor began his assault on Luke that was the moment Anakin Skywalker returned, the love I felt for both of you destroyed what was left of Darth Vader, and enabled me to destroy Palpatine.”

I stop, sensing that Leia is overwhelmed at this point. “I know that this is a lot to process, Leia; but I wanted you to know the whole story, to know my motivation and the reasons for my transformation. I know it doesn’t begin to make up for all the damage I’ve done, but I felt compelled to explain to you why I became what I did. I hope you can at least understand that it wasn’t simply out of selfish desire that I became Darth Vader; that is simply not true. Darth Vader was, in essence, Anakin Skywalker without a soul, the result of much pain, much anger and fear.”

Leia does not reply, but I sense in her tremendous anguish. She looks up at me, and in her eyes I see a hint of compassion, and it gives me hope.

“I had no idea…” she says at last in a voice thick with emotion. “You’re right, it doesn’t erase the past, and it certainly doesn’t change the fact that you hurt any of us, including Mother; but it does make a difference.”

I smile at her, grateful that she is willing to at least listen to me with an open mind. “Thank you,” I say to her, tentatively putting my hand on hers. She looks at my hand, but does not move her own, and then looks back up into my eyes. She is so conflicted; I sense her desperation to accept me. She needs me, as much as I need her.

“We’re coming up on Coruscant,” announces one of the guards as he checks the navicomputer.

I nod my understanding, my eyes not leaving my daughter’s. “Good,” I reply. “Let’s get this over with.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 22

A detachment of armed guards meets us on the landing platform, and they escort us to a waiting speeder. I sit with my children as the Coruscant sky grows dark. The tension is palpable; my daughter seems determined to deny any sort of connection that has developed between us. I know she feels it, just as I do; yet she wants no part of me, and is as resolute as ever to rebuff any attempt of mine to reach out to her. What will it take to change her heart? Is there anything I can do to reach her? As for Luke, I know how anxious he is, it is written on his face, in his eyes, and in his body language. During the course of the trip to Coruscant I have learned from him that he suspects it was Mon Mothma who alerted the Nubian authorities, having inadvertently learned from Han Solo what transpired on the Death Star and my subsequent rebirth. I have to wonder at this, and suspect that she has known all along that Darth Vader was in fact the fallen Jedi known as Anakin Skywalker. She was, after all, a prominent senator at the time of my fall, and a close friend of my wife. If this is true, then did she also know the true parentage of my children? Both have played key roles in the Rebel Alliance, particularly my daughter. Did Mothma know all these years that they were the children of the Alliance’s greatest enemy? It’s a wonder she ever trusted either of them, knowing that they carry my blood in their veins…

We are taken to accommodations where we are to spend the night. Leia informs me that the ‘meeting’, a euphemism I am certain, is scheduled for first thing in the morning. We speak very little, my children and I; all three of us too absorbed in our own thoughts to attempt conversation. A man approaches us as we approach the entrance of the building, and I recognize him at once: Han Solo. I can feel his surprise as he sees me, and I realize that this is the first time he has seen me without the infamous mask I wore for 2 decades. He watches me approach, his emotions in conflict. He is my son’s close friend, I know that they have saved one another’s lives countless times...Much like Obi-Wan and I… but he and I have had a long history, and he has every reason to hate me.

“Are you alright?” he asks Leia as he embraces her in greeting.

“Yes, of course,” she replies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Solo shrugs, looking at me, his dark eyes reflecting the animosity I feel churning within him. I meet his stare equally, determined not to let him intimidate me.

“Han, this is our father, Anakin Skywalker,” says Luke, sensing the tension between Solo and I and intervening quickly. “Father, I believe you know Han.”

I nod. “Yes, indeed I do,” I reply. “Solo.”

Solo nods at me, his mistrust of me obvious. “So this is the big man without the mask,” he smirks. “You’re not exactly what I expected,” he admits.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And what were you expecting?”

Solo shrugs. “I don’t know. Guess I figured you’d be a lot older. Hell you don’t look much older than me.”

I give him a small smile. “I am forty-four years old,” I reply.

“Oh,” he replies. The four of us stand in awkward silence for a moment, no one quite knowing what to say.

“Well we should get some sleep,” declares Luke at last. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

I turn to Luke. “You’re right,” I tell him. “I could use a decent sleep for a change.”

Luke smiles. “I’m sure. Leia, you coming?”

Leia nods. “Yes, we’ll be along in a bit. Good night, Luke. Good night…” She stops, not able to bring herself to address me as “father” just yet.

“Good night, Leia,” I reply, smiling at her. “Solo.”

Solo nods again at me, watching me closely. I sense his barely restrained hatred towards me, and realize that it was probably Luke’s presence that prevented him from attacking me outright. He certainly has good cause to hate me.

The room I am assigned is like a piece of heaven compared to the dump I have been living in for the past four weeks. It is small, but it has a comfortable bed with clean linens, and a pillow. There is even a refresher adjoining the room, I discover to my delight.

“What do you think?”

I turn to my son who stands just inside the room.

“It’s fantastic,” I tell him with a smile. “After the hole, this is like paradise.”

Luke smiles. “I’m sure. I took the liberty of putting some things together for you,” he says, indicating the closet. I open the door to find fresh clothing, including my Jedi gear.

I turn back to Luke. “Thank you, son,” I tell him, grateful and touched by his thoughtfulness.

Luke shrugs. “No problem,” he says easily. “There’s some stuff in the ‘fresher too. Shaving kit, soap, toothbrush…all that stuff.”

I nod my understanding. I walk to him and put my hands on his shoulders. “You’re a good son, Luke,” I tell him, looking down into his eyes that are identical to my own. “I’m not sure I deserve such a son.”

Luke frowns. “Don’t say that, Father,” he declares. “I don’t want to hear that. You are not Darth Vader any more. You are a good person, you are the man you were so many years ago. I know that it will be hard for you to get over the past, but you can do it. We can do it together.”

I am moved by his words. How did I exist before this compassionate, selfless boy was in my life? He is the best parts of both me and Padmé; good and honorable, loving me completely and believing in me unwaveringly. There must be good in me if I had a part in creating him… I pull him into my embrace, and close my eyes against the tears that well up. “Thank you, son,” I tell him softly. “What would I do without you?”

Luke is equally moved, I can feel it through our Force connection. “You never need to worry about that, Father,” he tells me. “I’m not leaving your side. Oh, I almost forgot,” he says suddenly. He pulls back and reaches inside his Jedi cloak and produces a light saber. “I thought you might like this back.”

I look down at the weapon in my son’s hand, recognizing it as the one I had made weeks earlier. “Are you sure that is a good idea?” I ask him. “I am a prisoner, after all, Luke; it might not be wise to furnish me with a weapon.”

“You are a Jedi,” replies Luke firmly. “And a Jedi is incomplete without his light saber. Please, Father,” he says, pushing it towards me. “Take it.”

I slowly take it from my son’s hands. I hold it, reacquainting myself with it once again. “You know,” I say with a smile. “Obi-Wan used to tell me that this weapon is your LIFE!” I say in my best imitation of Obi-Wan’s refined accent.

Luke laughs. “Did he?”

I nod with a chuckle. “Yes, all the time. I had a bad habit of losing or breaking my lightsabers,” I tell him sheepishly. “I can’t tell you how many I’ve made over the years.”

“Really? I can’t imagine you doing that, Father. That sounds more like something I’d do,” he says with a smile.

I laugh. “Well, I was somewhat rebellious in my youth, Luke. Obi-Wan needed the patience of a saint to deal with me.” I sigh, thinking back to the last time I saw my former master.

“You and Obi-Wan were very close at one time, weren’t you?” he asks, sensing my remorse.

I nod, looking down at the saber in my hands. “Like brothers,” I reply softly. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, actually,” I admit. “I was so angry when I saw him last.”

“I know,” Luke replies quietly.

I turn away from my son and walk away. “There were things I needed to say to him,” I explain. “Things I’d waited twenty years to say. I thought that I would feel better getting them off my chest; but instead I feel empty and ashamed.”

Luke listens, knowing, I am sure, how I feel without my explanation.

“I deserved your anger, Anakin.”

Luke and I turn to see Obi-Wan standing before us.

“Obi-Wan!” I smile.

He smiles back at me. “Hello old friend. It’s good to see you looking so well.”

“Thanks,” I reply. “I…I want to apologize, Obi-Wan. I was angry when we saw one another last. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You said what you needed to say, Anakin. I understand that. I too said some things, cruel things, and I am sorry for that.”

I hold up my hand. “Don’t apologize,” I tell him. “You were right. I didn’t want to hear it, but everything you said was true. I’ve had a lot of time to think lately, Obi-Wan, and I’ve come to realize that nothing that happened was your fault. It was me, my own pride, my own foolish trust in Palpatine. He was the true enemy all along, only I was too blind and stupid to see it.”

“We all were, Anakin,” Kenobi replies. “He managed to hide his true nature from everyone, including the Jedi Council.”

“How is that possible?” asks Luke. “How was it that the Jedi didn’t know he was a Sith?”

“The Dark Side of the Force, Luke,” Obi-Wan tells him solemnly. “It blinded us, and enabled Palpatine to hide his dark purposes from us for over a decade.”

“I can’t believe that I once thought he was a good man,” I say bitterly. “When I think of what I did, how wrong I was, and the way I helped him in his destructive mission…”

“The past cannot be changed, Anakin,” Obi-Wan tells me gently. “You know that. You must let go of the past if you are ever to know peace.”

I smile. “You’re starting to sound like Qui-G’on, you know,” I tell him wryly.

“Oh dear,” he replies with a sour face. “I’ll never hear the end of it now.”

Both Luke and I laugh.

“I’ve missed you, Obi-Wan,” I tell him. “Can you ever forgive me for everything I’ve done?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “You are my brother, Anakin. Of course I forgive you, and I ask the same of you. I am not exactly innocent either. After all, the way I left you on Mustafar…”

“What happened on Mustafar was terrible, senseless,” I tell him. “I will regret what happened there for the rest of my life. But it is my burden to bear, Obi-Wan, not yours.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “I’m very proud of you, Anakin,” he tells me. “You have finally become the Jedi I always knew you would be. You truly are the Chosen One.”

I smile, feeling an odd mixture of pride and serenity fill me. Perhaps Qui-G’on was right; perhaps being the Chosen One means to suffer, to fall, and to eventually know redemption. I only hope that…

“I want to make amends, Obi-Wan,” I tell him earnestly. “I want to devote my life to repaying my to the galaxy. But I’m afraid that I won’t be given the chance to.”

Obi-Wan nods in understanding. “I cannot foresee what will happen, Anakin,” he tells me apologetically. “The future is not easy to see, even the immediate future. But have faith, Anakin; you have done the galaxy a great service by destroying the Sith forever, they cannot ignore that. Nor can they ignore the many times you sacrificed your life decades ago in the Clone Wars. Have you forgotten The Hero Without Fear?” he asks with a smile.

“The Hero Without Fear?” repeats Luke. “Is that what they called you, Father?” he asks pride evident in his voice.

“Yes, many called me that,” I admit. “Though many others called me far worse.”

Obi-Wan and Luke both laugh. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the three of us would be sitting around talking like this. I smile, feeling immense love and gratitude for both of them. We spend the next few hours reminiscing, regaling Luke with many stories from our adventures together, and over the course of the time we spend together, I feel more like my old self than I have in more than twenty years.

It is well into the night before Obi-Wan takes his leave of me. Luke has long since fallen asleep in the upholstered chair in the corner of the room. I take a blanket from the bed and cover up my son, planting a soft kiss on his brow. The simple gesture fills me with emotion, sadness that I was never able to do such a simple thing as tuck in my children when they were children. “Goodnight, Luke,” I tell him softly. “Sleep well, my son.”

Sleep eludes me. I am not surprised really; too much is preying on my mind. I feel as though I’m standing on the edge of battle, and indeed I am; a battle for my freedom, for my very life.

From across the room I hear the soft sound of my son’s breathing as he sleeps, and smile in the dark. He is such a blessing, such a gift; if only Padmé had been given the chance to know this remarkable young man we created.

There are other troubling thoughts that keep me from sleeping this night. According to my children there have been rumors of factions developing within the ranks of the remaining Imperial forces. Young, brash officers, hungry for power, have been rallying support to their cause by calling themselves ‘defenders of the Empire.’ I knew such men when I was Darth Vader; and crushed their egos, not to mention their windpipes, whenever I had the chance. There was no honor in them, for all that drove them was the chance of glory and fame. Piett was never like that…

Firmus Piett was the closest thing I had to a friend during all those years. He was smart, resourceful, and intuitive. I regret that his life was lost at the battle over Endor; he would have remained loyal to me through all this, of that I am certain. But Piett is gone, along with the best men the Empire had, leaving the dregs and misfits behind to control the legions of clones that had survived Endor.

I drift off to sleep finally, my body surrendering at last to the exhaustion that the emotionally charged day has wrought.

“Father, wake up.”

I awaken to the sound of my son’s voice, as he gently shakes my shoulder. My eyes snap open, surprised that I had even fallen asleep at all.

“What time is it?” I ask, feeling disoriented for a moment.

“Still early,” replies Luke. “But you were shouting in your sleep.”

“I was?” I ask as I sit up in the bed.

Luke nods. “You were calling Mother’s name.”

I stop rubbing my eyes for a moment and look up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, sounds like you were in distress.”

I frown as I try to remember my dream. “I dream of her often, Luke,” I tell him, getting out of bed. “I have for many years.”

“I suppose that isn’t surprising,” he replies. “She was a huge part of your life.” He pauses, and I can see that he is formulating a question. “Father, did you ever consider that, well, that maybe Mother is still alive? I mean Palpatine wouldn’t be above lying to you about that, especially if it served his purposes.”

“Yes, I did think of that, Luke,” I tell him. “After I found out about you, I searched the Imperial data base for any information about her. I saw footage of her funeral. She’s gone, Luke.”

Luke nods. “I see. But you know that it would not have been that difficult to stage a funeral, and footage can be easily altered.”

I frown. “Why? To what end?”

“Think about it, Father,” Luke replies, growing excited by the idea that is forming in his mind. “Think of how things were between you and she the last time you saw one another. I’m sorry to say it, but don’t you think she would have been afraid? I think she would have wanted to hide from you and the emperor.”

I listen to my son, knowing that what he is saying is undoubtedly true. If she had survived, she would not have wanted anything to do with me. But…

“You and your sister grew up without knowing her, Luke,” I remind him. “Without knowing one another. If she had lived, why would you have been separated from one another? And why would she leave you to be raised by someone else?”

Luke considers this for a moment. “Maybe she was just trying to keep us safe,” he says at last. “After you had turned to the Dark Side, she must have been afraid that she would lose us to the emperor as well. I don’t know, Father. I’m just conjecturing. But don’t you think it’s at least possible?”

I walk away from my son, and stand with my back to him for a few moments as I collect my thoughts, struggling to keep the hope that I feel surging through my son from taking hold of me. How I wish what he is suggesting was true! But if it were, wouldn’t I have known all this time? Wouldn’t I have felt her presence? She and I were connected, despite the fact that she was not Force-sensitive; the strength of our love for one another created a link that was indestructible…or was it? Did the Dark Side blind me to her? Was that bond severed irrevocably when I broke her heart? No, I cannot allow myself to hope. My heart has been shattered too many times to let that happen.

“No, son,” I tell him, not looking at him. “I don’t think it’s possible. If she had lived I would have know it. She and I had a strong bond, a connection forged in the depth of our love for one another. I would know if she was alive, Luke. I’m sorry.”

Luke is silent, and I can feel his great disappointment. I turn back to him. “I would give anything if your theory were true, Luke,” I tell him. “But I’m afraid you’re wrong, son. She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, looking down at the carpeting. “I shouldn’t have even said anything, Father. I know how painful her loss is to you.”

I walk over to him and put my hands on his shoulders. “Don’t apologize, Luke,” I tell him. “You’ve lived most of your life not knowing anything about your parents. It’s natural that you’d be hopeful.”

Luke looks up at me and smiles. “Yeah, I suppose it is.” He checks his wrist chrono. “I’d better go get cleaned up. Meet you for breakfast in half an hour?”

I nod. “Of course,” I tell him. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 23

We are housed in what used to be, in the Old Republic, a facility meant for visiting dignitaries. It has fallen into disrepair in parts, but the section that we are in is still in good condition. The leaders of the Alliance have their work cut out for them to rebuild the galaxy; Sidious did everything he could to destroy any vestige of dignity and beauty that represented the democracy that the galaxy once embraced. He made a point, however, of leaving the Jedi Temple intact, feeling in his twisted sense of irony that the empty building would stand as a reminder of his victory over the Jedi. I helped him, believing that all we did was just, was right…how blind I was, I reflect bitterly. To think that my brothers, the Jedi were evil, and that he was good!

I think back to the previous night, and smile as I remember how Luke, Obi-Wan and I sat together talking until the wee hours. I feel a tremendous sense of serenity having made peace with my former master; it is as though an enormous burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I know that I have taken a huge step in my spiritual healing, for having Obi-Wan’s forgiveness will, I hope, enable me to forgive myself someday.

Yet, I crave the forgiveness of my daughter, for I am still not certain where her heart lies. I know that I have made progress where she is concerned; however there is still a long way to go. My incarceration, if nothing else, taught me patience, something I have been sorely lacking in all my life. I am patient enough now to wait for my daughter’s forgiveness, for her love; and will do whatever I must to earn both.

There is, however, the forgiveness of one that I shall never have, and it is that thought that gnaws at my heart. I will never have the forgiveness of my angel, and for that reason I may never know true peace, never quite manage to forgive myself completely. Perhaps that is the burden I must bear for what is left of my life; the price of my betrayal of she who loved me more than anyone.

The door chime sounds, interrupting my reflections. I walk over and open it to see my children standing before me.

“All set for breakfast?” Luke asks me.

I nod in response. “Absolutely. I can’t remember the last time I had a good meal.”

Luke smiles. “Well I can’t vouch for this one, but I’m sure it will be a big improvement on what you’ve had lately.”

“No doubt there,” I reply. “Lead the way.”

We leave the living quarters and make our way to the dining hall. The large courtyard is bustling with activity as we walk together; the ever present guards behind us. I look up and see the huge vaulted ceiling many stories above, soaring majestically high above us, its architectural style harkening back to a graceful, more civilized era.

“The meeting has been scheduled for 1000 hours,” Leia tells me. I look down at her, and nod my understanding. “Will you be there?” I ask her.

“I’m not sure if they’ll allow that,” she tells me.

I frown. “Why not? You’re my daughter. I want you by my side.”

Leia shrugs, uncomfortable with my statement perhaps. “We’ll have to see,” she tells me.

“I’m sure they’ll let you stay, Leia,” Luke tells her. “That is if you want to.”

Leia looks at her brother without responding. I am about to reply when I am struck with a strong sense of foreboding. I stop in my tracks and look at Luke. I know from the look in his eyes that he feels is too.

“What is it?” Leia asks, looking from me back to Luke. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t reply, but focus my mind on the disturbance I feel, reaching out to the Force for answers.

“Leia, get back!” I shout, pushing her behind me.

“What do you think…” she starts indignantly, but stops as she realizes what is happening. A legion of storm troopers has burst into the facility, lead by a small cabal of uniformed Imperial officers. I bring my lightsaber into my hand as my son does the same, and we deflect the blaster fire that has suddenly filled the air. I feel my daughter behind me, pressed up against me.

“Leia!” I call to her above the din. “Call for back up!”

She runs for cover, as I slay a trooper who has set his sites on her. My daughter is a well known enemy of the Empire; her face recognizable across the galaxy. I ensure that she is safe, and then run to join my son.

Pandemonium breaks lose, as unarmed civilians scream and run for their lives. But the troopers aren’t interested in them, and focus their attention on Luke and me; all that stands between them and the Alliance elite that they have somehow discovered are within the walls of this facility.

Luke and I fight furiously, vastly outnumbered by the troopers who fire unceasingly in our direction. No doubt they are here to get to the leaders of the Rebellion and either kill them or take them prisoner as a bargaining tool. Misguided fools! Don’t they realize that this fight is futile? I have to wonder at the lax security measures the Alliance has taken considering the importance of the personnel present in this facility.

“We can’t hold them off much longer, Father!” Luke shouts to me. I know he is right, and I use the Force to send a group of them flying across the room, gratified to see them crash against the far wall.

It has been a long time since I have been involved in such a battle, and the adrenaline surges through me. I feel like I am 21 again, with my best friend at my side, fighting the evil of the galaxy, sending the enemy to their deaths with a slash of my deadly blade. My son’s skill is tremendous, I notice proudly; grateful to Obi-Wan and Yoda for his fine training. Together we move through the sea of white armor, deflecting the blasts before maiming or killing those shooting them.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, we receive back up in the form of a group of rebel soldiers, lead by Han Solo and his wookiee first mate. We fight side by side, and it doesn’t take long before we have the situation under control. Only one of the Imperial officers is alive, and Solo apprehends him and brings him over to where Luke and I are standing. Leia has joined us, somewhat shaken by the whole incident, but maintaining her cool exterior nonetheless.

“You recognize this bag of crap?” Solo asks me as the remaining clones are herded up.

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and then look at the man. “No,” I tell Solo. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Solo looks back at the man, not trying to hide his anger. “Whose orders were you acting on?” The man remains silent. “Tell us!” Solo shouts, pointing his blaster at him threateningly.

“Han, that won’t do any good,” says Leia putting her hand on his arm. “He won’t talk.” She turns to one of the rebel soldiers standing near by. “Take him away; see that he’s well guarded.” The soldier moves immediately to do my daughter’s bidding. I smile as I am struck at how much like her mother she is, commanding with such ease and authority.

"I suppose the rumors were true then,” I say. Leia looks up at me and nods.

“You know,” she says, “I could have taken care of myself,” she insists.

I raise an eyebrow with a smile. “Yes, I’m sure you could have,” I tell her, putting away my saber. “You seem more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

Luke and Solo exchange an amused look.

“You’ll have to forgive me for being protective of you, Leia,” I tell her gently. “I suppose it’s a natural reaction when you’re a father.”

She smiles at me. “I suppose so. Thank you,” she says, her eyes softening. “Thank you for saving my life.”

The warmth I feel from her fills my heart and I have to fight the urge to take her in my arms and embrace her. She is not ready for that, not yet. I must be patient.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her, simply putting my hand on her shoulder.

Solo watches the exchange, and I can sense him looking at me, confused somewhat by the turn of events. No doubt he half expected me to side with the marauding band of Imperials; I am gratified to have had the chance to prove him wrong.

“That was pretty impressive,” he tells me. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I smile. “I was just doing what comes naturally, Solo.”

He nods, sizing me up, admiration in his eyes. “I guess we know where you two get your fighting abilities from,” he says to Luke and Leia.

“Luke and Leia’s mother was rather impressive in her own right,” I tell them. “She once took on a nexu almost single handedly.”

Luke and Leia look at me with expressions of shock on their faces. “Are you serious?” Luke asks.

I nod, remembering back to that fateful day on Geonosis, when we almost lost our lives. It was the day Padmé finally admitted her love to me…

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid to die. I’ve been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I love you.”

“You love me?? I thought that we had decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie…and it would destroy our lives.”

“I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway. I truly, deeply love you…and before we die I want you to know…”

“That was a long time ago,” I say, shaking the memories away. “You should probably report to your superiors,” I tell Luke and Leia. “I would suggest stronger security measures too. This probably isn’t the only group of disgruntled Imperials out there.”

Luke nods. “I’m sure,” he agrees. “I guess breakfast will have to wait.”

“Come with us,” Leia asks me.

“Of course,” I tell her. “I know you can’t leave me alone. I am, after all, your prisoner.”

Leia frowns. “No, that’s not what I meant,” she insists. “I want you to come so you can tell Mon Mothma and the others what happened, and how you saved my life and theirs by your actions.”

I am surprised by her words. “Do you think they’re ready to meet with me on such terms?” I ask her. “After all, I’m supposed to be on trial this morning.”

“Father, you’ve proven that you are not an enemy to the Alliance,” Luke insists. “They have got to see that!”

“Luke’s right,” says Solo, to everyone’s surprise, including mine. “I have to admit that when I saw those troopers here they were here at your bidding, that you’d been planning this all along. But seeing you in action, seeing you take out those clones…I can see that you’ve changed.”

I am surprised by Solo’s declaration, and it gives me hope.

“He has changed,” Leia says softly. I turn to her, startled by the intensity in her eyes. “I’m sure of it now.”

I smile at her, and tentatively bring my hand to her face. She puts her hand up to mine, and for a moment I except her to remove it, but instead she wraps her own small hand around mine, her eyes conveying the depth of the emotions she is feeling.

“Come on,” says Luke. “Let’s get this done.”

The four of us walk across the courtyard and into a lift that takes us up three stories to the suite of offices that the Rebel Alliance brass has ensconced themselves in. Word of the Imperial invasion attempt has seemingly reached the upper echelons, for there are people rushing around, with a distinctive feeling of tension in the air. Leia leads us to a conference room where several angry beings are assembled around a long table. In their midst is the Imperial officer who had been apprehended below. Apparently he is not exactly being cooperative.

“You can’t make me talk, Rebel,” the officer sneers at them. “I have nothing to gain by helping you.”

“You will have a fair trial,” suggests Mon Mothma, trying hard to remain patient. “And you will be doing the right thing. Does that not give you any sense of satisfaction?”

The officer laughs. “Bite me,” he replies.

Mon Mothma’s face betrays her shock at the man’s rude outburst, and she looks at her companions with exasperation.

I watch the exchange with interest, wondering how the rebels will deal with this situation. I know how the Empire would have; truth serum, torture, imprisonment…usually very effective methods for extracting information. Somehow I think that the Rebel Alliance is above using such draconian measures.

“Watch your mouth,” an older, bearded man says sharply. “We have ways of finding out what we need to know.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” retorts the officer boldly.

“We have two Jedi knights who are more than capable of finding out what we need to know,” says Leia at last. The assemblage around the table looks up at this point, not having noticed our arrival earlier.

“Princess,” says the bearded man, “this matter will have to wait. As you can see, we have another Imperial to deal with.”

“My father is not an Imperial, General Dodonna,” she replies tersely. “He is the very reason you are not all dead right now.”

Dodonna narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about? Your father is none other than Darth Vader, or have you forgotten that so soon?”

“Our father is Anakin Skywalker, General,” puts in Luke at this point. “And my sister is right; he was instrumental in stopping the invasion of the clone legion earlier.”

I sense the disbelief spreading through the room, matched only my children’s indignation.

Mon Mothma turns her cool gaze upon me. “I knew Anakin Skywalker many years ago,” she says in her impeccable accent. “He was a good man, a hero. But everything that he stood for died when he betrayed the Republic and the Jedi Order, not to mention his beautiful wife.”

I match her cold stare, now certain that it was she alerted the Nubians. “I know that I have made many mistakes in my past,” I tell her, keeping my tone even, carefully controlled. “And there is nothing that I can do to erase that, nothing I can do to bring back the Jedi I slaughtered, nothing I can do to undo the tremendous pain that I have caused the galaxy, and, even though I would give my own life to do so, I cannot bring back my beloved wife.”

Mon Mothma’s expression remains unchanged, though I can see in her mind her unyielding hatred for me. It seems that nothing I do will change her mind.

“No one here expects you to change the past, Father,” Luke says at this point. “But what you did today, what you did back on the Death Star six months ago, speaks volumes about the man you are, the man you have become. I don’t think there’s anyone in this room who can deny that,” he concludes, looking pointedly at Mon Mothma.

“We are grateful for what your father did today, Luke,” says the Mon Calamari officer sitting at the table, his large watery eyes looking soulfully at us. “But I don’t know if that is enough to pardon a lifetime spent in the pursuit of evil. Darth Vader left path of destruction a parsec wide. How many beings have suffered because of his wanton disrespect for life and freedom?”

“He killed Palpatine!” protests Luke. “He sacrificed his own life to save me! Surely you can see how he has changed!”

Those gathered around the table look at one another uncomfortably, and I can sense that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance that they will consider me as more than just a monster. Mon Mothma, however, is another story. She stands away from the table, an imperious look on her face, her hands clasped in front of her.

“No one has more reason than I do to despise Darth Vader,” says Leia at last. I turn to her, her words creating a stab of pain. “He stood by while Tarkin destroyed my home world and the parents I grew up with; he tortured me, nearly killed the man I love, not to mention my brother…” she stops, looking up at me. Our eyes hold one another’s for a moment, and in their dark depths I see her desperation to make them see. “But the man you see standing before you here is not Darth Vader. I didn’t want to believe it at first, refused to consider the possibility that Darth Vader could ever be anything but an inhuman monster; but I was wrong. He is Anakin Skywalker once again, Jedi Knight, hero, and my father,” her voice falters, but only for a moment. “And I think that if you thought about it, you would see that he is far more valuable to us as an ally than locked away in a detention block.”

“An ally?” retorts Mon Mothma tersely. “And what makes you think he would help the Alliance? What makes you think we can now trust the Emperor’s henchman?”

“He has already helped the Alliance,” puts in Solo at this point. “Or haven’t you heard about what happened in the courtyard earlier this morning? If he were still an enemy of the Alliance, he would have sided with those troopers, not fought against them. How can you be so blind?”

Mothma’s jaw tightens at this comment, and I can sense her growing anger.

“Your opinion is not needed here, General Solo,” she tells him coldly. “The last time I checked you were not in a position of leadership.”

“Now Mon, you are being unreasonable,” says the fourth member of the group, a man I don’t recognize. “Solo has done more than his share to help the Alliance...”

“No one is questioning that!” she interjects.

“Well it sure sounds like it to me!” puts in Solo. Soon there are raised voices from all quarters.

I stand amidst the chaos, feeling invisible and yet at the same time oddly self-conscious, knowing that I am the reason for the heated argument between these colleagues. I look over at the Imperial officer who stands in binders, guarded by a single rebel soldier. No doubt he too is surprised by the squabbling that has broken out between the leaders of the Alliance. I study him closely, trying to recall a name, to remember if I have seen his face before, when an idea strikes me.

He has noticed me staring at him, and yet I continue to allow my eyes to bore into him, looking past the veneer of indignation in his mind, searching deeper. It isn’t hard to do, for, like most Imperial issue, he is not terribly sharp witted. I bend his mind, amazed at how easily I can probe it.

Evant…his name is Evant…he was on furlough when his ship, the Menace, was destroyed over Endor…his fiancée was aboard at the time…that would explain his reason for wanting revenge…I probe deeper, searching for the information I need…the clones and other three officers he brought here were from one of three legions stationed here. I already knew that. He acted alone, without orders, and yet he is aware of other vigilantes among the remaining Imperial ranks…

“There are…at least forty others,” I say aloud, my eyes not leaving Evant’s. I wait to have the attention of the room before I continue. One by one the arguing stops and they turn to me and listen. “…and they are gathering their combined forces, planning an attack….they plan to strike the Rebel Fleet…”

“What nonsense is this?” Mon Mothma says with a frown, yet I sense the fear growing within her; she knows that I’m right.

“It is not nonsense,” I tell her calmly.

“And how would you know?” asks Dodonna suspiciously. “Unless you are a part of this plan yourself.”

“Of course he isn’t!” cries Luke hotly. “He is a Jedi!”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” puts in Dodonna.

“The Jedi can read the minds of other beings,” says the Mon Calamari at this point, looking at me. “Their telepathic abilities are legendary.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you know where they will attack? Our fleet is spread through out the galaxy at this point.”

“At your weakest point,” I tell him. “You do know there are spies among your ranks,” I inform him. His shocked response tells me that this is news to him, indeed, to all of them.

“Can you tell us who they are?” asks Leia.

I turn to my daughter. “Yes,” I tell her. “There is a lot of information I can give you. I have security codes to every star destroyer in the fleet.”

The room is silent. I watch the reaction on the faces of the beings before me.

“I suppose being Darth Vader had to have some perks,” mutters Solo at this point. I look at him, deciding that I like the man.

“Clearly we have some decisions to make,” says the Mon Calamari at this point, looking at me. I can sense within the odd creature a small measure of respect; he believes me. “Give us some time,” he adds, turning to Luke and then Leia.

“Of course,” replies Luke. “We will be waiting for your decision, Admiral.” He turns to Leia, and I sense the silent communication between them. Both are hopeful, both are afraid.

“Please make the right decision,” Leia pleads softly.

Dodonna nods thoughtfully. “Have you anything else you’d like to say at this time?” he asks me.

I think for a moment. “Yes,” I decide. “I would. I know that the past is a painful topic for all of us in this room, but the past is gone, and nothing can change it. I am asking you to give me the chance to make amends for the sins of my past, the chance to help you build a future for this galaxy. Most of all, I ask, no, I beg you, to let me be a father to my children. We have spent a life time apart; don’t force us to be apart for the rest of our lives. I...I need them…they need me. Please, give me the chance to be the father they deserve, the father they need.”

Leia slips her hand into mine as I conclude my speech. I look down at her and smile, my heart swelling with love for her.

“We will notify you when we have reached a decision,” replies Dodonna. “We will do our best to be quick.”

I nod my understanding and leave with my children. Solo helps escort the Imperial officer to a secure area.

Once in the corridor, my children let their guard down.

"They will exonerate you, Father,” Luke tells me, his voice soft with emotion. “I know it!”

I smile at Luke. “Hard to say, son,” I reply. “I can’t read all of them. Mon Mothma hates me deeply, though; she could sway the others.”

“That can’t happen,” Leia says. “Not now, not after we’ve come so far.”

I am touched by Leia’s words, and part of me is surprised by the depth of her emotion.

“If it is my destiny to be condemned, then so be it,” I tell my children. “I am grateful at least to have found you both, to have had the chance to know you, even for just a short time, and, I hope, to have earned your forgiveness.”

Leia is unable to stop the tears at this point. “You have, Father,” she says, her voice barely audible. I look down at her, moved beyond words. I pull her into my arms and embrace her, my cheek resting on top of her head.

Luke smiles as he watches, his own eyes glistening with tears. Our eyes meet, and between us pass the silent communication, the love, the forgiveness and complete acceptance that can only exist between a father and his child. I smile at him, thanking the Maker for both of them. I sigh, knowing that the waiting will seem endless as my fate is determined.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 24

We decide to try to eat some breakfast while we are waiting for the rebel leaders to come to their decision. Han Solo and his wookiee companion, whose name I’ve learned is Chewbacca, have joined us. Except for Chewbacca, none of us can manage to eat much, however, and end up pushing our food around on our plates, allowing it to get cold in the process.

“So tell us how Mother took down a nexu,” says Luke.

“Yeah, I’d like to hear that story myself,” puts in Han.

I smile, thinking back all those years back. “Well, it was just before the Clone Wars began, in fact the very day that terrible conflict started. Your mother and I weren’t married yet; I was 19 years old, still a padawan. We had flown to the planet Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan who had been captured by the Sith Lord Count Dooku and his faction of separatists. Well, the rescue operation didn’t exactly go as planned, and she and I ended up getting captured as well. The three of us were scheduled to be publicly executed in an arena, where we were each chained to a pillar of stone. While we waited, trying to figure out a way out of the mess we’d found ourselves in, the geonosians lead in three horrific beasts, and it was obvious that we were meant to be their snack that morning. Obi-Wan and I, of course, were trained fighters; but your mother was not a Jedi. But while he and I bickered about how we were going to get out of the situation, she had managed to free herself from the binders on one of her wrists and climbed to the top of the pillar. She used her chain to whip the nexu, and then delivered a grievous kick to the beast’s mid-section.”

Luke and Leia exchange a look of amazement.

“Wow,” says Han at this point. “Gutsy lady. Just like her daughter,” he adds, winking at Leia.

“Yes, very much like her,” I concur, looking at Leia. “Well the long and the short of it is we managed to make it out of there alive, thanks to the timely arrival of the Jedi and the newly formed Republican Clone army.”

“The clone army fought on the side of the Republic?” asks Luke in surprise.

I nod. “Yes, remember that Palpatine at this time was the chancellor of the Republic, and had managed to fool everyone into thinking that he was a benevolent and wise leader. He masterfully manipulated the Senate into voting giving him the power he needed to commission the creation of a clone army. Of course, the army had been in the making for a decade, but no one realized it at the time. The clones were instrumental in defeating the combined droid armies of the separatists; there is no way the Jedi would have stood a chance without them. Little did we realize that he had a secret plan to eventually turn the clones against the Jedi, the dreaded Order 66.”

“I remember learning about Order 66 in school,” puts in Luke. “But according to my teachers it was the salvation of the galaxy, and enabled the emperor to bring peace. I kind of had a hard time swallowing that myself.”

I snort derisively. “Yes, I know the late emperor had an interesting spin on the true history of the time; people of your generation really don’t know what went on then, unless you had someone who lived through it who was brave enough to tell you the truth. I’m sure Bail Organa’s version of what happened was accurate,” I say, looking at Leia. “He was a fine man, an honorable man. I couldn’t have chosen a better adoptive father for you than him, Leia.”

Leia smiles, but I see the pain in her eyes as she remembers how her parents, the only parents she ever knew until recently, were killed when Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star….while I stood by and let it happen…

“So if you were adopted,” Han says, addressing Leia, “then you weren’t born a princess?”

“No, well, I don’t know...” replies Leia. “Our mother was a queen, but not when we were born.”

“A queen? You were married to a queen, Anakin?” Han asks in amazement.

I smile. “Yes, and I spent the first nine years of my life as a slave. Boggles the imagination, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does,” replies Han. “I can almost relate,” he adds, grinning at Leia.

I laugh. “Yes, I’m sure you can. Anyway, Padmé was no longer queen of Naboo when I married her. Yet she was a queen in every way that counted though, with or without a title.”

Han nods his understanding.

“You know, I’ve been dreaming about Mother a lot lately,” Luke tells us, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t think I have ever dreamed of her until recently, but I think I dreamed of her almost every night for the past week.”

“Probably because you know about her now,” suggests Leia. “You’ve learned the truth of who she was.”

“And you’ve finally seen her face,” I put in.

“Could be,” concurs Luke.

“I have been too, come to think of it,” I tell him. “But of course, I have dreamed of her almost every night for the past 22 years,” I add with half hearted attempt at a smile.

“Maybe your dreams mean something,” suggests Leia. “Maybe…maybe she’s trying to communicate with us.”

“Or maybe she’s still alive,” says Luke, looking at me.

I frown, not wanting to open up this issue again.

“What did you say??” asks Leia incredulously. “Why would you think such a thing? Do you have reason to make you believe it’s possible?”

“No, he doesn’t,” I reply. “Just wishful thinking, Leia. Believe me, I wish there were more to it than that, but I’m afraid there isn’t.”

“How do you know for sure?” asks Han at this point.

I turn to look at him, growing irritated by the barrage of questions.

“I just know,” I reply edgily.

We sit in silence for a few awkward moments before I speak again.

“I’m sorry,” I say contritely. “It’s just a painful topic for me. I’d give anything to have her back, but I’ve had my heart crushed too many times to even dare to hope again.”

No, I’m sorry Father,” replies Luke. “I shouldn’t have brought it up again. It was stupid of me to say anything.”

I put my hand on Luke’s forearm. “Not stupid, Luke; just hopeful, just optimistic. I can’t blame you for that. I’m afraid my life has left me something of a pessimist. I’ve seen too much, been through too much in my life to be anything but cynical.”

“But Father,” Luke replies. “You found us, Leia and me; you returned from the Dark Side of the Force, something no Jedi has ever done to my knowledge. You have much to be proud of, so much to reaffirm the good man that you are. I don’t know how you can remain cynical after all the amazing turns your life has had recently. I know that I will never take anything for granted again, not after what we have been through, not after finally finding the family I have dreamed of since I was old enough to realize that I didn’t have one.”

“The kid has a good point,” Han points out. “You’ve defied the odds more than once, from what I can tell, Anakin. And believe me, I know all about defying the odds.”

I laugh, despite myself. These young people are like a tonic for my soul, and I am grateful that Destiny brought them together.


''You’re right, Luke,” I tell him, looking down at the plate of cold food in front of me. “I do have much to be grateful for, and believe me, I am. I suppose it’s just…”

I stop as a rebel soldier approaches our table.

“Commander Skywalker?”

“Yes?” both Luke and I reply simultaneously.

“Uh, I meant this one,” says the soldier, indicating Luke, the humor of the moment lost on him.

“Yes, so we figured,” replies Han with a roll of his eyes.

“Do you have news?” asks Leia.

“Yes, your Highness,” the soldier replies. “Mon Mothma has requested that your father be escorted at once to the conference room.”

“Thank you,” replies Leia, managing to sound calm despite her tension that I can feel from across the table. “We’ll be right there.”

The soldier stands by and waits for us. For a moment the three of us just look at one another, words not needed.

“I guess this is it,” I say at last, looking first at my daughter then at my son.

They are silent, though their eyes say all that needs to be said at this point.

“Come on, let’s get it over with,” I say, standing up.

One by one they stand, and together we fall into step behind the soldier who waits to escort us upstairs. My heart is racing, my mouth dry. I truly do not know what to expect, for my ability to foresee the future is clouded by the overwhelming emotions I feel from my children. Both are worried, fearful even; but underneath these emotions I feel the strength of their love for me, and it gives me the courage I need to face my destiny.

The lift carries us upward, the soft mechanical whisper of its ascent the only sound to be heard. Each of us is deep in thought, none of us wanting to put into words the musings within our minds; though it is evident from the tension level that no one is terribly optimistic about the fate that awaits me.

Finally we reach the doors of the conference room, and I turn to my children.

“Well, this is it,” I say to them.

“It will be alright, Father,” says Luke.

“I hope you’re right,” I tell him with a smile. The door slides open and I step inside, followed by my children.

“Commander Skywalker, Princess Leia, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait in the corridor,” Mon Mothma informs them.

“What?” exclaims Leia angrily. “You can’t be serious! Our father needs us with him!”

I turn to her. “It’s okay, Leia,” I tell her, putting my hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

Leia looks up at me, her dark eyes troubled. “But Father,” she begins.

I take her face in my hands. “It will be okay, I promise you,” I say, kissing her forehead. “Now promise me you’ll behave yourself out here,” I add with a smile.

Leia laughs, a nervous, tension filled laugh; but it is good to hear it nonetheless. “I promise.”

“Good,” I say. I turn to my son, who is far calmer than his twin; at least outwardly.

“May the Force be with you, Father,” he tells me, his voice soft.

I put my hand on his shoulders. “And with you as well, Luke,” I reply.

“We’ll be pulling for you, Anakin,” Solo puts in at this point, extending a hand to me. I shake his hand with a smile. “Thank you, Han,” I tell him, grateful for his support. I then turn from the three of them and enter the room, the door sliding closed behind me.

“Skywalker, come in. Have a seat,” says the Mon Calamari who I have learned is Admiral Ackbar.

I approach the table and sit down across from my four interrogators. I look at each one, trying to see what is in their hearts; but they are hiding their emotions well, and their faces are like stone.

“First of all, we want to apologize to you for the treatment you received while being held on Naboo,” begins General Dodonna. “We understand that there was a considerable amount of …neglect.”

I raise an eyebrow at his choice of words. “That’s one way of putting it,” I reply wryly. “Some might call it abuse.”

“Well, yes,” concedes Dodonna, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I assure you that was not our wish.”

I remain silent, waiting for them to continue.

Ackbar picks up a data pad in front of him and examines it briefly. “Tell us, Skywalker; how old are you?”

I frown, taken aback by the question. What difference does that make?? “I…I’ll be 45 in a month or so,” I reply. “Why do you ask?”

“You have accomplished a lot in your life,” he replies, his eyes still on the data pad.

Is he trying to be funny? I wonder, trying to read the being’s mind.

“I have before me the records of Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight,” he continues. “Your exploits before and during the Clones Wars are truly…extraordinary. I remember those days, Skywalker; I remember what a hero you were. The galaxy was indebted to you on more than one occasion.”

“I was doing what every Jedi did at that time,” I reply. “We were fighting a war; doing one’s duty wasn’t an option.”

“True,” concedes Ackbar. “But not every Jedi single-handedly transformed inevitable defeat into victory on numerous occasions, Cato Nemoidia for one. You were a legend, Skywalker, “The Hero with No Fear,” was the moniker the media gave you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but what does any of this have to do with...”

“Admiral Ackbar is slow to getting to the point,” Mon Mothma says at this point. “But he does make a valid one, one that we cannot dismiss.”

I look at her, surprised by her comment, but say nothing, waiting for her to go on.

“General Riekan has another list in front of him,” continues Mothma, looking at the fourth member of the council. “General?”

“Yes, thank you Mon,” says Riekan, taking up the data pad in front of him. “This was transmitted to us from the Nubian authorities after your transfer here. It is a list of the crimes that you have been charged with. I don’t think I need to read it out; I’m sure everyone here is very familiar with the exploits of Darth Vader.”

I lower my eyes, a feeling of dread filling my stomach.

“So what are you saying,” I ask, looking up at them again. “You’re comparing the two lists? Two negatives make a positive? Is that it?”

“No, it’s not quite that simple,” replies Dodonna. “Were it so simple a matter, your fate could have been decided weeks ago, Skywalker. There is more to consider in this matter, however, and my colleagues and I have spent the past weeks doing just that. But we needed to meet you, to talk to you, before we could reach a final decision.”

“And have you reached that decision?” I ask, fighting my growing impatience.

“We have,” replies Mothma. She regards me for a moment, as though trying to see my soul, to see if the decision she has reached is the correct one.

“There is no doubt that Darth Vader was a monster, a plague upon the beings of this galaxy,” she continues, holding my eyes with her own. “The atrocities he committed in the name of galactic peace were heinous, monstrous, and without remorse,” she intones, her blue eyes like shards of ice. I feel my heart sink, knowing that my past sins will forever haunt me, and I will not be forgiven, no matter how sorry I am.

“However,” she continues, “Darth Vader is dead. I...I didn’t believe it, just as your daughter didn’t, until I saw with my own eyes the transformation that you have undergone. But now I know that Darth Vader no longer exists, for he had no soul, no conscience; and the man I see before me now has both in abundance.”

“What my esteemed colleague is trying to say is, we cannot condemn you for the crimes committed by Darth Vader,” explains Riekan. “You are clearly not Darth Vader, and everything we stand for would be besmirched were we to judge you with the same twisted sense of justice that the late emperor employed. Your deeds as Anakin Skywalker, over two decades ago and in recent weeks, including today, are proof to us that you have been redeemed. And it is our decision that you be exonerated of any charges that have been brought against you.”

I sit dumbfounded. Am I dreaming? Is this really happening? I look at the faces of the four beings before me, each of them smiling benevolently, when only hours earlier I sensed utter hostility from them, particularly Mon Mothma.

“I don’t understand,” I say slowly, looking at her. “You...you sat there earlier and condemned me mercilessly, I could feel your hatred for me as clear as day. And now you’re telling me you believe that I’ve changed? I have to tell you that I’m rather confused by all this. Relieved, but confused.”

Mon Mothma smiles at me. “I had to be sure, Anakin, I had to be sure that there was no trace left of Darth Vader within you. For personal reasons, I had to test you, to give Vader the chance to resurface; but he didn’t. You accepted our condemnation as a true Jedi, without anger, without resentment. And now that I know Vader has been destroyed, I feel completely justified in giving you a second chance. You do want that, don’t you?”

“A second chance?” I echo in disbelief. “You have no idea how much I want that! I…I am truly overwhelmed,” I stutter, addressing the entire group of them. “I am so grateful for your clemency, not just for myself, but for my children. You won’t regret this, I swear it!”

“I’m sure we won’t,” replies Dodonna with a smile. “But there is something you can do for us, Skywalker, in exchange for your freedom.”

“What is it?”

“Simply put, we need you. You can help us stabilize the galaxy,” he continues. “Your knowledge is invaluable to us. You better than anyone know the Imperial networks, troops strengths, strongholds; with you on our side we can put an end to the destructive conflict that has plagued the galaxy for almost 3 decades and restore justice and order. Not only that, your skill as a commander and military tactician is unmatched. We can use that sort of expertise on our side.”

“I will do everything I can to help,” I reply earnestly. “You have my word.”

“Fine, fine,” replies Dodonna.

“I have a request to make of you now, if you’ll forgive my presumptuousness,” I say.

“What is that, Anakin?” asks Mon Mothma.

“I would like to do my best to rebuild the Jedi Order,” I reply. “If I am indeed the Chosen One of Jedi prophesy, then it is my duty, my destiny to do this. With my children’s help, I can; that is, with your approval.”

The four of them look at one another. At last it is Ackbar who speaks.

“The Jedi Order was a noble institution,” he says with a nod of his great domed head. “Their influence in the Old Republic was not only important, but helped shape the galaxy for generations. If you think it is possible to restore the Order, then I for one support you whole –heartedly.”

I smile, feeling, at last, as though I am finally living up to the destiny that Qui-Gon foresaw for me so many years ago. With my children at my side, I will see the glory of the Jedi return to the galaxy. It is all so perfect, all so incredible…but for one thing.

I stand now, anxious to return to my children to share my incredible news.

“You won’t regret this,” I repeat. “I promise you.”

“May the Force be with you, Anakin Skywalker,” says Ackbar, reaching out his webbed hand to shake mine. I shake it, exchanging a smile with the wise old creature. The other men shake my hand as well, and take their leave. I turn to leave, to see that Mon Mothma is left.

“Before you go,” she says approaching me. “There is one more thing I must impart.”

“What is that?” I ask.

“A secret,” she tells me with a smile. “A secret that I was sworn to keep more than 20 years ago by a very dear friend. And now that Darth Vader has ceased to exist, I can finally reveal it.”

I frown, not understanding. “Is this the personal reason you mentioned earlier?”

She nods, and hands me a data chip.

I look down at it and study it briefly, then look back up at her. “These are coordinates,” I tell her, still perplexed.

“Yes, so they are,” she replies, still smiling at me.

I look at her, feeling something within me stirring, turning hot, then cold, then hot again…my heart starts to race as I slowly begin to understand what it is she is telling me, what my brain still refuses to believe ….

“Are you telling me that Padmé….that she…she is…” I stammer, hardly able to get the words out.

“Alive?” she offers, her smile broadening. “Yes, Anakin, that is exactly what I’m saying. I am the only living person who knows that she is alive; originally there were three who were trusted to keep her secret. She realized that if you knew that Palpatine would use you to get to her, and through her, get to your children. She made me promise that as long as Darth Vader and his master lived, that I would never reveal to a living soul that she was alive. That was why I needed to be so harsh with you; there could be no margin of error on my part; I had to know without a trace of doubt that Vader was no more.”

“But…I saw footage of her funeral…”I stammer. “Obi-Wan told me he was with her at the end…how is this possible??”

“Her funeral was staged,” she replies calmly. “And as for Obi-Wan, well he was one of the other sworn to secrecy, the third being Bail Organa. They were both instrumental in helping her hide, helping her remain safe for so long.”

My hands are trembling as I stare at the data chip in my hand, and I am afraid, so very afraid, that at any moment I will awaken to find that the past hour has been just another wonderful dream. I have dreamed so often of moments like that, of miracles where my beloved angel has returned to me, that she never died…but this is no dream…

I look back at Mon Mothma as the emotions fill me. “Thank you,” I tell her, my voice barely a whisper. “Thank you for this…I…I am truly overwhelmed,” I tell her as the tears roll down my face.

She is moved to tears too, and puts a small hand on my arm. “You are more than welcome, Anakin,” she replies. “Go find her. She has waited a long time for her Ani to return to her.”

I nod, and take her hand in mine. “Thank you,” I repeat, again and again, unable to think of anything else to say, unable to think at all at this point.

I turn around and stumble out of the room, into the corridor where Luke, Leia and Han are waiting. I look at my children, and lose it, the emotions too powerful to hold back any longer. They rush to me, both of them throw their arms around me, and I realize that they think the worse has befallen me. They see my tears, but don’t realize that they are tears of joy, that my emotional outburst is a catharsis that has built up for the past 22 years of enduring life without my angel, my soul mate, my beloved Padmé. I have to set them straight, so I pull away from their embrace, holding each of them by the hand.

“Father, I’m so sorry,” Leia cries, her own emotions raging through her. Luke, however, is looking at me closely; he can read me so well, and I sense that he has realized the truth.

“You’re free…” he says slowly. “Aren’t you? They pardoned you!”

I can only nod, my throat too constricted to speak right away.

“What??!” cries Leia. “They pardoned you!?”

“Yes, Leia,” I manage to say at last. “I’m free!”

This elicits more hugs, this time even Solo getting in on the group hug that has more than a few passers by looking at us oddly.

“But there’s more,” I tell them, disengaging myself again. I hold up the data chip and look at Han. “How fast can that bucket of bolts of yours go again, Solo?” I ask him.

“Point five past light speed….” He replies, looking at the chip. “What is that, Anakin?” he takes it from my hand and looks at it closely. “These are coordinates!”

“Where to?” asks Leia.

I look at my daughter, the joy filling me utterly. “To your mother, Leia,” I reply softly.

Leia’s eyes grow wide. “w-w-what did you say??” she stammers.

“I knew it!!” exclaims Luke joyfully. “I just knew it!!!” He and Leia hug one another, Luke picking her up off the floor and swinging her around. The joy is intoxicating, and unlike any I have ever felt in my life.

“I can have us here in less than 24 hours,” pipes up Solo at last. “That is, if you’re anxious to leave right away.”

I laugh, slapping him on the back. “You know Solo; I think you and I are going to get on very well.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 25

The planet where Padmé has lived in hiding for the past two decades is in the Outer Rim; a small, insignificant world with precious little to attract the attention of the Empire. I am grateful to those who aided her in her escape and subsequent disappearance, for although the pain and loneliness of all those years without her was tremendous, the knowledge that it meant her and our children were safe from Sidious made it worthwhile. And now we will all be together, the family that Padmé and I had always dreamed of. I smile when I imagine the reunion of my children with their mother, whose touch they have not known since they were minutes old. Will she be as happy to see me? I cannot help but wonder if my betrayal of her irrevocably destroyed her love for me. I took everything from her, everything…all for what? Hindsight truly is 20/20, for looking back now the decisions I made, decisions that were agonizingly complex at the time, seem so simple all of a sudden. With age comes wisdom, I know this now; for what I suffered over as a 22 year old seems so obvious now that I am twice that. But none of that matter now, the past is done, and nothing I do will ever change it. What matters now is today and the future, a future I plan to devote to my family, and the healing of the galaxy.

“Not sleeping either I see,” says Han as he enters the hold.

“No,” I reply. “Too much going on in my head right now for that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Han returns. He proceeds to the service bay and commences removing a panel from the bulkhead.

“Something amiss?” I ask, walking over to watch him.

He looks over his shoulder at me briefly before returning to his task.

“Uh, no, not really,” he replies. “Just trying to improve the efficiency of the transfer circuits. I’m always replacing the damn things.”

I nod, considering the problem, happy to have something to occupy my mind for a little while.

"Shorting out?” I ask.

“Yeah,” replies Han. “Pain in the butt too, ‘cause it ends up screwing up the hyperdrive.”

“Of course,” I concur. “The motivator is fed by those circuits. Maybe there’s too much power running through them, causing them to overload. Let me have a look,” I offer.

Han steps back and looks at me. “You sound like you know your stuff, Anakin,” he says with a grin.

I shrug as I examine the circuit panel. “I’ve always had a knack for fixing things,” I tell him. “Even as a boy I enjoyed tinkering with mechanical gadgets. Built a podracer when I was 8.”

“No kidding,” replies Han. “I saw a pod race once. Fastest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I nod. “Yes, very fast, very dangerous. My poor mother hated it when I raced.”

“Yeah I bet,” he says.

“Hand me that spanner there, will you?” I ask him. He gives it to me and watches me as I proceed to open the casings on the circuits.

“You must have been one hell of a pilot to be able to compete in a race like that. I’ve never heard of a human pod racing, let alone a kid,” he observes.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly a typical child,” I remind him, handing him the casings one by one.

“No, I guess not,” he replies. “Nothing typical about you from what I can tell, Anakin,” he adds.

I smile. “I don’t know about that,” I tell him. “I’m subject to the same fears, the same emotions as everyone else.”

Han looks at me for a moment. “You’re nervous about seeing your wife again, aren’t you?” he observes.

I am startled by his comment, and stop what I’m doing to look at him. “Is it that obvious?”

Han laughs. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

“I haven’t seen her in more than twenty years, Han,” I tell him, returning to the task at hand. “I don’t know how happy she’ll be to see me after all this time.”

“Well, it won’t be long before you’ll know,” he points out.

I nod, feeling my stomach tighten another notch. “Yes, very true. It looks to me like these circuits have been fried, Han. Too much power. You need to adjust the power flux. I’m sure if you do that you’ll find the circuits will function more efficiently.”

Han nods thoughtfully, examining the circuits for himself. “Makes sense,” he concurs. “I’ll get Chewie to get on that right away. He’ll be ticked off that he didn’t think of it himself.”

I laugh.

“Thanks for the tip,” he adds.

“No problem,” I reply. “I enjoy getting my hands dirty,” I add, replacing the casings.

“Guess you didn’t have much chance to do that when you were Vader,” he says.

I give him a quick glance over my shoulder. “You’d be surprised,” I tell him.

“Really?” he responds in surprise.

“Is that so surprising?”

Han shrugs. “Guess it’s kind of hard to picture the Dark Lord of the Sith getting friendly with a hydro spanner.”

I laugh. “Well, I did so whenever I had the chance. You’d be surprised how sloppy the Imperial mechanics can be.”

“What’s wrong now??”

Han and I turn to see Luke standing before us, a steaming mug in each hand.

“Why does everybody assume that something is wrong??” asks Han in exasperation.

“Past experience,” replies Luke with a wink in my direction.

I smile, remembering many occasions when the Millennium Falcon had limped its way out of the Imperial grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” mutters Han as he replaces the panel. “Laugh if you want, but this baby has saved your hide more than once, kid.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke admits. “Fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy, right?”

“Damn right,” replies Han. “Don’t you forget it, either.” He examines the power output readings, a puzzled look on his face. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish he had 3PO with us. He’d be able to tell me what the hell the Falcon is trying to say.”

“3PO??” I repeat. “You don’t mean C3PO, do you? Protocol ‘droid?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” replies Han.

“You…know 3PO, Father?” asks Luke.

“I built 3PO, Luke,” I tell my son.

“You built him??” Luke responds in astonishment.

“Why??” asks Han.

Luke and I laugh at his exasperated tone.

“I built him to help my mother,” I tell them. “Though he wasn’t quite finished when I left Tatooine.”

“Didn’t you leave Tatooine when you were nine years old?” asks Luke.

I nod.

“You built Goldenrod when you were a kid?” asks Han in amazement.

I nod again; amused by the moniker he has given my quirky childhood friend.

“Anakin, you never cease to amaze me,” Han says.

Luke smiles at me, and I can see the pride in his eyes. Such a change from the way he looked at me upon our first meeting. Bespin seems like a lifetime ago now, for indeed it was; a different life, a different man. It was there that Anakin Skywalker began his rebirth. The first time I looked into my son’s eyes, so very much like my own, was truly the undoing of Darth Vader. It was his love that destroyed him completely.

“I made some caff if you’d like some,” offers Luke.

“Thanks kid,” replies Han, taking a cup. “I could use some. I’m gonna go wake up Chewie.” He wanders off at this point, leaving Luke and I alone.

I sit down at the round metal table, rubbing my eyes as the fatigue of more than one sleepless night hits me.

“You alright?” Luke asks, sitting down with me.

“Just tired,” I tell my son.

He nods, watching me closely. “What else?” he asks, setting the second cup before me.

I raise my eyebrows at his question.

“You can’t hide anything from me, Father,” he says with a smile. “Not anymore.”

I smile. “Perhaps not,” I reply. I look down at the cup in my hands, at the thin wisp of steam rising slowly from the hot, dark liquid within. “I’ve just been thinking about your mother, Luke,” I tell him. “And wondering how she will react when she sees me again after all this time.”

Luke is silent as he considers this.

“I imagine it will be a shock for her,” he says at last. “Do you think she knows what happened? How Palpatine is dead? How you’ve been redeemed from the Dark Side?”

“I doubt it,” I reply. “From what I understand, she’s lived in isolation all this time.”

Luke nods. “Father, why do you suppose she didn’t keep Leia and I with her?”

I can feel Luke’s pain as he asks me this, and it fills me with fresh guilt.

“I can’t answer that, Luke,” I tell him. “Though I’m certain it was because of me. Perhaps she felt staying together was too great of a risk, and that it was the only way to ensure yours and Leia’s safety.”

“I suppose so,” Luke replies.

“Believe me, Luke; your mother loved you fiercely. She would have never given you up unless she had no alternative.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I guess I just feel such a sense of loss for all the years we were apart, all four of us. It was just so tragic, what happened; so senseless.”

I sigh. “It was,” I agree. “But I’m determined not to dwell on the past. I vowed that I would devote myself to building a future with my family. I only hope that your mother will accept me.”

“From what you’ve told me about her, Mother loves you a great deal,” observes Luke. “That will help her over the shock and the pain of the past. It’s what has helped me.”

I smile at my son, proud of the mature, wise young man he has become. “I can’t wait for her to meet you,” I tell him. “Both of you. She will be so proud of you, as I am.”

The warning sound of the approaching reversion is heard.

“Looks like we’ve arrived,” Luke observes.

I nod, feeling my anxiety level rise. “Yes, so we have.”

Han and Chewbacca appear, followed by Leia.

“You ready for this?” Hans asks me with a grin as he passes on his way to the cockpit.

I nod, a nervous smile pasted on my face. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Han laughs and slaps me on the back. “Relax! Everything’s gonna be fine. Trust me.”

“Are you worried, Father?” asks Leia.

I nod. “A little.”

She smiles and reaches up to put her hands on my shoulders. “We’ll be with you all the way,” she assures me.

“That’s right,” chimes in Luke. “You’re not alone in this Father.”

I smile at my children, loving them both enormously. “I know, and I appreciate it.” I take a deep breath. “Well, here we go.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 26

The coordinates provided by Mon Mothma take us to a landing platform hidden deep within an ancient forest. I brace myself as Chewbacca lowers the ramp. We are met by two armed guards who point weapons at us as we made our descent.

“Hand over all weapons,” one of them commands. We look at one another briefly and then comply. The second guard moves forward and confiscates our weapons.

“Search them,” orders the first guard.

“Now wait a minute,” protests Han. “We already gave you our weapons!”

“You have something to hide?” challenges the man.

“No, of course not,” replies Han testily.

“Then compliance won’t be a problem,” returns the guard.

Han rolls his eyes and submits to the search. Finally, after all of us have been thoroughly searched, the guards lower their weapons. “Who are you? What is your business here?” demands the first guard.

“We have come to see Senator Amidala,” I reply. “I am…a childhood friend.”

The guard raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down. “You’re a Jedi by the look of you,” he observes. “So why have you come here?”

“We have news to bring the Senator,” says Leia, stepping forward, using her best senatorial voice. “News of her family.”

The men exchange a look, considering what my daughter has said.

"Very well,” says the first guard at last, as the second one raises his weapon once again. “Follow me.”

We follow the man through the labyrinth of giant pines, the armed guard at our rear. My heart is beating so hard that for an instant I swear I can hear it above the sound of snapping twigs under my boots.

A stone path emerges as the trees begin to thin out. Suddenly a large house emerges in a clearing ahead of us. A small lake lies behind the house, surrounded by more dense foliage. A figure appears in a window on the second floor behind a curtain, but before I can discern who it is, they disappear again.

The path ends at a small courtyard behind the house. It is surrounded by a stone wall, with shrubs and potted plants scattered about. The sound of footsteps is heard approaching quickly, and I feel my daughter’s hand slip in tom mine. I give it a squeeze, as we stop, waiting with hearts racing for her to appear. But it is not Padmé who appears, but Sabé.

“These people have come to see Milady,” explains the guard in front of us. She looks at me, a mixture of shock and anxiety on her face.

“I see,” she says, looking back at the guard. She then returns her attention to me.

“You’re about the last person I expected to see here,” she says at last, not trying to hide the animosity from her voice. “How did you find her, anyway?”

“Mon Mothma gave us the coordinates,” I reply. “I…I’ve changed, Sabé. Vader is dead. I’m Anakin Skywalker again, and I’ve brought our children to see Padmé.”

Sabé frowns. “Your children?? What are you talking about?”

“Luke and Leia,” I continue, baffled by her reaction. “The twins she bore! Our twins!”

Sabé turns her eyes first to Leia and then the Luke. I can see by her reaction to seeing them that their resemblance to Padmé and I does not go unnoticed by her.

“But…this can’t be!” Sabé exclaims. “Luke and Leia died within minutes of their birth!”

“What??” exclaims Luke.

“What are you saying?” demands Leia. “Are you telling us that…” she stops as the truth dawns on her, on all of us, and she and Luke turn to me.

“No, it can’t be…” I say softly. I look at Sabé. “Are you telling us that Padmé...that she was told that the twins died all those years ago??”

Sabé nods, the truth finally forming in her mind as well. She puts her hands to her face. “A lie?” she asks simply.

“Yes,” I reply. “A lie. One of many lies that all of us have spent a lifetime believing and agonizing over.”

“But why? Who would tell her such a lie? What reason could possibly justify such cruelty?” cries Leia.

I put my hand on Leia’s shoulder and she draws close to me. “I don’t know,” I tell my daughter softly as I hold her in my arms. “But I mean to find out.”

“May we see our mother?” asks Luke. “We have waited a long time to meet her.”

Sabé nods. “She will be utterly shocked…I just hope this doesn’t worsen her condition, the knowledge that she has spent her life alone because of a lie.”

“Her condition? What are you talking about?” I demand.

“Depression,” replies Sabé. “Severe depression. She’s been suffering for years now, and hasn’t spoken more than a handful of words for ages.”

I close my eyes, guilty remorse filling me Because of me…she has suffered a life time because of me…forgive me, my Angel...

“We need to see her,” Leia says at last. “Perhaps the knowledge that we are alive will help.”

Sabé smiles. “I hope so,” she replies. “Now come, follow me.”

We follow Sabé into the house and up a narrow staircase. I can feel the sadness, it permeates the very walls. The silence is oppressive, and it fills me with a sense of dread as we draw closer to where Padmé is.

Sabé stops outside a door that is slightly ajar. She turns and looks at me.

“I will see if she is up to visitors,” she tells me. “I’m afraid you’ll overwhelm her if you all go in at once, though. She is quite fragile emotionally these days.”

I nod my understanding, and wait with my children and their friends as Sabé enters the room. I can feel my children’s anxiety, and it only serves to amplify my own. Who will we find behind that door?

Sabé returns after a few minutes and motions for me to come forward. I look back briefly at Luke and Leia, and then follow her inside.

The room is quite large, the big picture window opposite the door affording its occupant a splendid view of the lake. “I love the water...” I remember her telling me long ago.

Almost as though I am moving in slow motion, I approach the chair where Sabé has directed me to. My heart in my throat, I reach her, the sight of her face after all these years threatening to bring me to my knees.

She gazes out the window, her large dark eyes watching the sunlight dance on the still waters of the lake. Her face has aged, which is to be expected after 22 years; but she is still beautiful, just as beautiful, I decide, as the first time I saw her in Watto’s junk shop so many years ago. There is so much I want to say to her, for I have fantasized about this moment so many times over the long agonizing years without her; yet I cannot speak, all the words have run dry, and all I am able to say is her name.

“Padmé…”

She starts, as though noticing for the first time that she is not alone in the room, and slowly raises her eyes to me. The moment our eyes meet is nearly my undoing. Padmé’s eyes, her soulful, luminous eyes are full of sadness that tell of a lifetime spent alone, mourning the loss of all those that she loved. Time seems to stand still as we search one another’s eyes, each of us looking desperately for the Love we had lost so long ago.

“Ani?” she says at last in the dulcet tones I had all but forgotten.

“Yes, Padmé,” I say, kneeling by her side. “It’s Ani. I’m here.”

She brings a hand to my face, a crease forming on her brow.

“But…how?” she asks, touching my face as though trying to prove to herself that I am indeed really there. “Mustafar…”

“I nearly died there, yes,” I tell her gently. “And bore the scars of the terrible day for many years. But someone saved me from the Dark Side, Padmé, helped me to be remade, to become the man I once was, the man who loves you more than life itself.”

Padmé blinks, the crease not leaving her brow. Her fingers gently run through my hair, her eyes following their path, and then down the side of my face once again. I close my eyes; the sensation of her touch is heady, exhilarating; yet so very tender and delicate.

“Why, Ani? Why did you leave me alone?”

I knew she would ask it; it was inevitable; yet the question reaches inside of me and grabs at my heart, wrenching it painfully.

I reach up and cover her hand with my own. “Oh Padmé, it was never my intention to leave you alone. I only wanted to save you, and I was foolish enough to believe that I could do so by embracing the Dark Side. If only I could go back to that terrible day on Mustafar…” I tell her passionately.

Her eyes harden, ever so slightly. “Why have you come here?” she asks tiredly. “How did you find me?”

“Mon Mothma told me where to find you.”

“She had no right to do that,” Padmé responds. “She promised never to tell anyone.”

“Unless Darth Vader ceased to exist,” I remind her. “Vader is gone, Padmé, I promise you.”

She shakes her head, as tears start to form in her eyes. “You took everything from me,” she says softly. “Everything! And now you just show up after 22 years and expect that things will be the way they were?”

“I don’t expect anything, Padmé,” I tell her. “I have no right to expect anything. But when I found out that you were alive, I had to see you.”

“Why?” she asks simply.

I frown at the question. “Why??” I repeat incredulously. “Padmé I have spent the past 22 years living in my own self made Hell. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to die, to free myself from it; and it wasn’t the mask, or the fact that my body was a monstrous wreck; no, it was the knowledge that I was responsible for the death of the One I loved more than anything in the galaxy. When I believed that you were dead, a part of me died as well, leaving me an empty shell. Darkness was all I had to fill that void, and so I embraced it whole heartedly. I had nothing else, my capacity to feel anything but anger and hatred was destroyed.”

“You say you loved me, but you tried to kill me Anakin!” she cries. “If Obi-Wan hadn’t stopped you, you would have killed me!”

“Padmé, please…”

“When I saw the man I loved disappear before my very eyes, saw him morph into an angry, vicious monster, I too wanted to die. Part of me did die on that day, Ani. And then when my babies died…” she stops, as the emotions overwhelm her.

“Padmé, they didn’t die!” I tell her, clasping her hand. “You were lied to! They are alive; they are with me here, right now!”

“Liar!!” she cries, yanking her hand away. She gets to her feet. “You are lying! Why would Yoda have told me such a thing if it weren’t true??”

So it was Yoda…

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “But I’m sure he did it with the best intentions, Padmé.”

“I don’t believe you!” she sobs, backing away from me. I stand up, my heart breaking with the waves of sorrow I feel emanating from my beloved wife. Yet, under the sorrow I feel her desperate need to believe; a small glimmer of hope that I am not lying.

“I will prove it,” I tell her. I walk over to the door and open it, motioning for Luke and Leia to enter the room, ignoring Sabé’s protestations. My children enter at once, their eyes darting about the room in search of their mother. I turn to Padmé and I can see that she realizes the truth. Her eyes are wide; her trembling hands cover her mouth.

“It’s true!” she cries. “You’re alive! You’re both alive!” She holds out a hand to each of them. “Oh my darlings, my sweet Luke and Leia!”

My son and daughter, our son and daughter, rush to their mother and embrace her tightly. The three of them weep openly Padmé kissing them repeatedly as though trying to make up for all the time they were apart. My heart fills at the sight of my beloved angel reunited at last with our children; but I feel as though I have no place here. Quietly I leave the room, closing the door behind me.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 27

I make my way downstairs, where Han and Chewbacca are sitting at a table having something to eat.

“So?” asks Han when he sees me. “How did it go?”

I take a seat across from him, shaking my head. “Not good,” I tell him. “She’s angry, hurt and resentful.”

“You kind of expected that though, didn’t you?” he remarks.

“I suppose so,” I admit. “I guess I was just hoping for a miracle.”

“Seems to me you’ve had more than your share of miracles lately, Anakin,” he says with a grin.

I smile, realizing he is right. “Yes, you’re right about that.”

“If she’s anything like her daughter, she’ll be sore for a while, but will eventually simmer down. Trust me on that,” he says.

“Well, Leia’s temperament is much like my own,” I tell him. “A little too much actually.”

Han laughs. “Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. Say, how did your wife react when she saw Luke and Leia? Must have been a shock for her.”

I nod, a smile on my face. “It was,” I tell him. “At first she refused to believe they were truly alive. It was only when she saw the two of them with her own eyes that she finally believed.”

“So why was it necessary for her to think that they were dead?” asks Han. “Was it because of what happened to you?”

“I’m sure that was a part of it,” I reply. “If the emperor had been able to get his hands on either Luke or Leia, he would have destroyed them.”

“Like he did to you,” Han observes.

I nod. “Yes, he knew that any children of mine would be a threat to him, so he would see that they were dealt with one way or another.”

“So separating them from their mother was the only way to guarantee their safety?”

“I suppose that was the thinking,” I tell him. “I imagine the decision to do so was extremely difficult, and made under pressures of time and circumstance. Remember, the Jedi had just been wiped out, the galaxy was in turmoil; I can’t damn Yoda for making such a decision under those conditions. I didn’t exactly leave a lot of options open.”

Han nods. “Well, the main thing now is that she’s with them now. Right?”

I sigh, looking back at the staircase. “Yes, Han, you’re right. It is wonderful to see the three of them reunited.”

“One big happy family at last,” he says with a smile.

I nod. “I just wonder how or even if I fit into that family.”

Han frowns as he considers this for a moment. “Listen to me, Anakin,” he says. “If someone had told me a year ago that you and me would be talking like old friends, I’d have told them they were crazy. If someone had told me that Princess Leia Organa would now love you and accept you as her father, I would have called them crazier. The point is, you’ve won us over, and neither of us are exactly easy sells. Padmé loves you, so it only makes sense that in time she will get past all the anger she’s feeling and accept you, too.”

“Padmé loved me, Han, loved...past tense. I don’t know if she does, don’t see how she can. Not after everything she’s been through because of me.”

“I’m no expert on love, or women, especially women,” he tells me. “But from what you’ve told us, the love you shared was rare, intense and deep. That kind of love doesn’t just go away, even when there is hurt and anger involved.”

I look at this one time smuggler, and realize once again way my children hold him in such high esteem. His wisdom is remarkable, and certainly belies his outward appearance of the cavalier mercenary I had once believed him to be. I smile at him.

“Thank you Han,” I tell him. “Your words mean more to me than I can say.”

Han shrugs, seemingly uncomfortable with my comment. “Hey, I’m just trying to get in good with the future in-laws,” he quips with a grin.

I laugh. “Ah,” I say. “Method to your madness, is there?”

“Always,” he replies.

Footsteps are heard on the stairs, and Han and I turn to see Luke, Leia and Padmé. Padmé’s face is radiant, the joy she feels at being reunited with her long lost children has seemingly renewed her spirit. As they reach the bottom of the staircase, she takes each of them by the hand, as though afraid to let them go.

“Han, Chewie,” Leia calls. The pair stands up and approaches her. “This is my mother, our mother,” she corrects herself. “Padmé Naberrie Skywalker. Mother, meet Han Solo and Chewbacca.”

"It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Skywalker,” replies Han, seconded by Chewbacca.

Padmé smiles, the sight of her radiance illuminating the room, filling my heart. “Please call me Padmé,” she tells him. “I’m very pleased to meet you both.”

I watch the exchange, disturbed by the pang of jealousy I feel as she bestows her beauteous smile on Solo. How long has it been since she smiled at me? I can’t even remember…

I stand up and walk over to the group of them, watching Padmé’s reaction.

"I can’t tell you both what it means to me to see you reunited with your mother,” I tell my children, looking at each to them in turn. “I’m just sorry it has taken so long for it to happen.” I turn my eyes to Padmé as our children watch the exchange. Are they aware of what transpired between us before they entered the room? Can they feel the almost palpable tension between us?

“What matters now is that we are together,” says Luke at this point, looking at me. “Isn’t that right, Father?”

I nod, not taking my eyes from Padmé’s.

“Luke is right,” adds Leia. “It’s time to put the past behind us and concentrate on the future.”

Padmé’s eyes reflect the conflict I know she is feeling.

“Yes, Leia,” I say. “It is. But perhaps your mother needs some time to assimilate all that has happened here today. No doubt she is overwhelmed. Isn’t that so, Padmé?”

Padmé nods slowly, her eyes not leaving mine.

"And I will give her all the time she needs,” I continue. “Time to get to know you both, without pressure, without any expectations.”

Leia frowns, unsettled by what she senses is transpiring between her mother and I. She turns to Padmé and then back to me. “What do you mean, Father?” she asks.

“I mean that I am going to give you all the space you need,” I tell her, “in order to get to know one another.”

“Space?” says Luke. “What exactly do you mean, Father? Surely you don’t mean you plan to leave!”

I look at my son and smile at him. “Yes, Luke,” I tell him. “I think maybe that would be best, at least for now.”

“You can’t leave!” exclaims Leia. “Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“It’s better this way,” I tell her gently, touching her face. “You and Luke need to spend time with your mother, to get to know her. I…I don’t want to intrude on that.”

“Intrude?” echoes Luke in exasperation. “You’re a part of this family, Father! We have been apart too long. If healing is to take place we must all be together!”

“Luke is right,” Padmé says, much to my surprise. She looks at me and I can see in her eyes how torn she is. I sense that she is surprised by how close our children have grown to me; no doubt she did not expect that level of acceptance given the history of our family.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Padmé,” I tell her. “If my presence is painful to you, I will go.”

She considers for a moment, and then shakes her head. “No,” she says. “Please, don’t leave.”

I smile at her. “Very well,” I reply, trying to control my relief and happiness. “I will stay, if that is truly what you want.”

“It is,” she replies.

“Good, it’s settled then,” announces Leia. She holds out a hand to me, and, after a moment, I put my hand in hers. I look at Padmé, realizing that we have a long way to go if we are ever to rebuild our lives. Is it even possible? I wonder. Will the strength of the love we shared all those years ago enable us to withstand this? Only time will tell.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 28

The five of us spend the night at Padmé’s home. She and our children talk endlessly over dinner. Padmé seems almost like her old self again when in the presence of her beloved twins; as though the piece of her that has been missing all these years has grown back, leaving her whole once more.

Han and Chewbacca have decided that they will leave in the morning, promising to return in a few days’ time, and so have retired early, leaving the four of us alone.

We have adjourned to a large, comfortable sitting room, where Luke and Leia are taking turns asking Padmé questions and telling her stories about their own lives. There is so much to say, so much time to make up for; and the three of them seem bent on cramming it all in this very night. I watch them, listening for the most part. Every so often one of my children asks me a question, or directs a comment my way, as though making sure I know that they are including me in the conversation. And while I appreciate their efforts, I know that it is their mother who has the floor. They have had weeks with me, months even; and my story has been told to both of them. Most of it, at least; but hers is still largely untold, and they seem determined to learn all there is to know of her, even if it means staying up all night to do so.

Finally the conversation begins to wane, as fatigue sets in. I estimate that it is several hours past midnight.

“I think we should all get some sleep,” suggests Padmé as she stands up. “I can’t believe how late it’s become.”

Luke and Leia stand up to join her. “I completely lost track of the time,” admits Leia. “It seems like just a little while ago that Han said good night to us.”

Luke checks his wrist chrono. “Well, it’s more like 4 hours ago,” he tells his sister.

I stand up at this point. “It has been a long day,” I say. “And having had no sleep does tend to catch up with you.”

“You didn’t sleep last night at all?” asks Luke.

I shake my head, stifling a yawn. “No, not a wink.”

“Well let me show you all to your rooms,” says Padmé. “It’s not exactly palatial, but I think you’ll be comfortable here.”

Let me show you all to your rooms…obviously I am included in that... though I suppose I can’t expect anything different. Even though technically Padmé is my wife, I doubt she would even think of sharing her bed with me. I hold a small yet fervent hope that this will change. Just being around her again has been exhilarating, reawakening in me all those feelings I had learned to repress for so many year when I lived in Darkness as Darth Vader.

We follow Padmé back up the narrow staircase to the second floor. “I’m afraid you two will have to share a room,” she tells Luke and I. “There aren’t enough extra bedrooms for each of you to have one.”

“We don’t mind, do we Father?” Luke replies.

“Not at all,” I tell him with a smile.

“Good,” Padmé says. She opens a door to a small but comfortable looking room. “I hope you sleep well.”

“Thank you Mother,” says Luke, as he gives her a kiss on the cheek. Padmé smiles at him, and puts her arms around him.

“Good night Luke,” she says softly, kissing his cheek. She releases him and for a moment is face to face with me. We look at one another wordlessly, and in her eyes I see a jumble of emotions all vying for supremacy. Is there still a part of her that loves me? I wonder, searching her dark eyes for the Padmé I once knew. She looks away, as though she knows what I am thinking and turns to Leia.

"This way, Leia,” she tells our daughter, and walks to the doorway. I follow her with my eyes.

“Good night, Padmé,” I call after her. She stops and turns to face me again.

“Goodnight,” she replies. “I hope you sleep well,” she adds somewhat formally.

I merely smile in response, and then watch as she disappears with Leia down the corridor. I sigh deeply, and turn to see my son flaked out on the bed, his face half hidden by the soft pillow his head is resting on. I smile, amazed at his propensity for falling asleep so quickly. He didn’t get that from me… I muse as I pull a blanket up over his shoulders. I watch him sleep for a moment, wishing fervently for an instant that I had been able to do so 20 years ago, when he was a baby; but that chance was lost, and I must put the regret and pain of those lost years behind me. I bend down and kiss my son as he sleeps. “Good night Luke,” I tell him softly. “I love you.”

I stand up and walk to the other bed, sitting down on the edge of it. Suddenly I am aware of someone watching me, and I look up quickly to see Padmé standing in the doorway. Her face bears an expression of surprise; her eyes seem softer than they were mere minutes ago. Was she there a moment ago to watch me tuck our grown son in and kiss him goodnight? Part of me hopes she was. She says nothing, and then turns and disappears again, leaving me puzzled and yet oddly hopeful by the strange encounter.

I pull off my boots, remove my tunic and lie back on the small bed. Using the Force, I turn off the light, and try my best to sleep. So much has transpired today though; I know it will be a struggle to quiet my mind enough to drift off. I have never been good at meditation, a skill I wish right now that I had mastered. Obi-Wan never had trouble sleeping- no matter where we were, how noisy, how uncomfortable, he could meditate himself into a deep slumber within minutes. Me, I’m a tosser and a turner. Always have been, probably always will be. With a loud sigh I turn onto my side, close my eyes, and hope for the best.


Padmé and I have swum out to the island she used to frequent as a child. Side by side we lie on the warm sand, our hands joined as we let the sun dry our skin. We have been married for two days, and are still heady with the euphoria of our new intimacy. Though both tentative at first, due to our innocence and inexperience, the past two days we have been inseparable, both night and day, spending endless hours exploring one another’s bodies, discovering how best to pleasure one another. Neither of us wants to think about the next morning when the reality of the Clone War will drag me away from her. No, tomorrow is light years away, as we bask in the warmth of the sun and our love.

I turn over onto my side and look at my beautiful new bride, my eyes following the soft, sensual curves of her body, the water drops on her skin twinkling in the sunlight. I bring my finger to her shoulder and slowly trace a path downward, feeling grains of sand collect under it. She turns and looks at me, a smile on her face. I reach her hand and pick it up, bringing it to my mouth, my eyes now looking into hers. I take each finger and plant a slow kiss on the tip of each one, watching her reaction. Her eyes narrow seductively as she watches me. I smile at her, as my lips travel to her wrist, and then up the underside of her arm.

“Ani, if you continue that, we may end up getting sun burnt in the most embarrassing places,” she says with a smile.

I laugh. “Is that a promise?” I ask with a rakish grin.

She nods. “I’d have to say yes.”

“Well in that case, maybe I should stop,” I tease her, moving away from her.

“Oh no you don’t!” she replies, moving over to me. She pushes me down so that I’m lying on my back once again and sits on my abdomen. Pinning my arms above my head, she looks down at me, a triumphant smile on her face.

“I give up,” I tell her. “You win; I’m helpless to resist your charms, Milady.”

She laughs. “Now that’s more like it,” she says, and lowers herself to me, our mouths meeting in a passionate kiss.

I awaken, the memories of the beautiful dream still resonating in my mind. Normally such a dream would cause me nothing but heartache, reminders of the loss of my beloved crashing down around me once again. But she is not dead, a fact that I can still scarcely believe. She is alive, but whether she and I will ever recapture the magic of the love we shared so many years ago is questionable. I don’t blame her for being angry; she has every reason to be. But under the anger and the hurt, is there still some part of her that still loves me?

I sit up in the bed, having enjoyed a decent sleep for the first time in a long time. I look over to where my son is sleeping to see an empty bed. I stand up and stretch, hearing the shower running in the ‘fresher. Realizing that Luke is in there, I slip my boots on and decide to get some fresh air.

There is a balcony extending at the far end of the corridor on the second floor, I noticed it last night. I head there, hoping that the door is unlocked. Luckily it is, and I open it and step outside into the bright morning sunshine.

The air is still, heavy with the scent of flowers and foliage. I realize that the balcony wraps around the back of the house, and walk around to have a look at the small lake that I spotted the previous day. It is a beautiful sight, one that I can appreciate so much more now having spent the past months in a dark, depressing cage.

I walk over to the stone wall that encircles the balcony and lean my forearms upon it, gazing out at the water birds that hover around the lake’s grassy edges. I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh clean air, not even minding the chill in the air against the bare skin of my arms and torso. It is peaceful here, so peaceful…I am happy that Padmé was able to find refuge here. It seems to me that this place is much like how I always remembered her to be; peaceful, calm, and beautiful.

She is here…I realize as I feel her presence suddenly. It is soothing, as it always has been, and I close my eyes and bask in it for the moment. I do not turn around, wondering what she will do when she sees me here.

“Your hair is so long.”

I turn to look at her. She is behind me, her hair loose around her shoulders, the way I always preferred it, still in her dressing gown, her feet bare.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, running a hand through its unruly curls. “I hadn’t planned on it getting so long; I guess I haven’t had much of a chance to get it cut.”

“Don’t cut it,” she says, walking over to stand beside me. “It suits you.” She looks out at the lake, leaning her arms on the railing in the same manner I had done.

“You think so?” I ask.

She nods. “I always have.”

I look at her, in agony over the proximity. I am reminded of an evening many years earlier, when, in my youthful angst I declared my love for her.

From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven’t thought of you. And now that I’m close to you again, I’m in agony. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you... I can’t breathe! I’m haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, tormenting me…

I feel like that tormented 19 year old boy again, standing so close to her, yet knowing that I am not permitted to show her how I feel. If I could…

“Did you sleep well?” she asks, not taking her eyes off of the lake.

“Yes, thank you,” I reply. Silence. “It’s very beautiful here.”

“Yes, it is.”

More silence.

“You aren’t at all what I expected,” she says tentatively.

I turn to her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, after what happened on Mustafar…”

“You know about that?”

“Yes, I know. Obi-Wan told me, and we do get holo-news out here …whenever I would see you in that terrible mask…”

“It was horrible,” I tell her, at a loss for words. “Living in that suit for so long was...beyond description.”

“I’m sure.”

Silence.

“I just didn’t expect that you would look so …so good. I mean...” she stops, obviously with something to say and yet not yet comfortable enough with me yet to say it.

“I had massive reconstructive surgery,” I explain. “New limbs, new lungs…medical technology is amazing. Even the arm I lost on Geonosis has been replaced with a flesh and blood arm,” I tell her. “Look,” I say, holding it out to her as proof.

She looks down at my bare arm, and tentatively puts her hand out to touch it. I watch the expression on her face as she struggles to decide whether she ought to her not. She wouldn’t be struggling if she didn’t truly feel something still…finally I feel her finger tips upon my skin. She looks up at me in amazement, and, for a moment, it’s as though the past is forgotten. “Ani, that is amazing!” she exclaims, grasping my forearm in her small hand. “It’s miraculous,” she says softly, looking down at it. “It even has hair on it!”

I smile. “Of course,” I tell her. “It’s not a prosthetic, Padmé; it was regenerated from my existing cells. Luke told me it was similar to the technology that is used to make clones.”

“Luke?” she says, looking up at me.

I nod. “Luke is responsible for all that; I had no idea that such technology existed.”

“Luke helped you?” she asks, surprised.

I nod. “Yes, it was after I had killed Palpatine..”

"You killed him?” she says. “How?? Why?”

“I killed him in order to save the life of our son,” I tell her calmly. “He would have killed Luke with Sith lightning if I hadn’t. As it turned out, I was the one who nearly died.”

The look in Padmé’s eyes reaches inside me, grabbing my heart. Have I made some progress? Should I go on?

“You see, Palpatine wanted to take Luke as his new apprentice, but when Luke refused to kill me to take my place, Palpatine decided to destroy him.”

“And you stopped him?” she asks.

I nod. “Of course. Luke is my son, I love him.”

Padmé frowns, her confusion at this disclosure obvious. “I didn’t think Darth Vader loved anyone,” she admits quietly, looking away from me.

“You’re right,” I tell her. “He didn’t. The only emotions Vader was capable of feeling were dark emotions: anger, fear, hatred. Love is not the way of Darkness, not a part of being a Sith.”

Padmé’s breathing is quickening, and I can see that she is getting upset. Idiot…I reproach myself… you’ve gone too far, it’s too soon, she’s not ready for this...

“I’m sorry,” I say gently. “I didn’t mean to dump all this on you, not now. It’s just that…there is so much I want to say to you, so much I need to tell you…I hardly know where to begin. I only hope that you’ll give me the chance to do so.”

She looks at me, and for an endless moment, we simply look at one another. I have to fight the urge to touch her, to pull her into my arms and show her the depth of the passion I still feel whenever I am near her; but I know that would be a mistake.

“Good morning!”

We turn to see Luke approaching us, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, son,” I tell him.

“Did you sleep well?” Padmé asks him.

“Like a baby,” he tells her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “You?”

“Very well, thanks,” she replies. “I should get dressed,” she says, glancing back at me briefly. “I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast shortly.”

Luke nods, the smile not leaving his face. He and I watch her retreat into her own chamber, and close the balcony door behind her. Luke turns to me.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” he says.

I smile. “No, not really,” I tell him.

“She seemed a little more …warm towards you, Father,” he notes.

I nod. “Yes, I think so too. I still have a long road ahead of me, though. Regaining her trust and her love will not be easy. I just hope there’s a chance it can happen.”

“It will,” replies Luke confidently. “I have foreseen it.”

“You have??” I ask him in amazement.

Luke looks sheepish. “Uh, no, not really,” he replies. “I’ve just always wanted to say that.”

I laugh at my son, and tousle his hair affectionately. “Let’s hope you’re right, Luke. Where’s your sister?”

“She walked down to see Han and Chewie off,” he replies as we walk back indoors. “I told her we’d meet her for breakfast in a little while.”

“Good,” I reply. “That will give me time to have a shower.”

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 29

Delicious smells waft up to greet us as Luke and I descend the staircase. The dining room table is laden with an assortment of delicacies, arranged artistically in fine stone ware platters.

“Wow,” says Luke as his eyes widen at the sight. “Looks like a feast fit for kings! You didn’t tell me my mother could cook like this!”

“She can’t,” I tell him bluntly, but with a smile. “She can’t boil an egg.”

Luke laughs. “No?? After everything you’ve told me about her I just expected her to be perfect at everything.”

“Not quite,” I tell him. “Cooking was never a skill she could master, as much as she tried. I remember one time when…” I stop as I sense someone standing behind us. Uh oh…

“Telling tales about me, Anakin?”

Luke and I turn around to see Padmé standing behind us, hands on her hips.

I smile sheepishly. “Just answering the boy’s question,” I reply.

Padmé tries not to smile, unsuccessfully. “Don’t forget, Anakin, that there are more than a few stories about you I could share.”

“Really?” puts In Luke, rubbing his hands together. “I like the sound of that!”

“Now wait a minute…” I begin, but Padmé just laughs as she walks past us. The sound of her laughter is like music to my ears.

“Relax, Ani,” she says. “I’m not about to embarrass you.” She turns to look at Luke and I. “Besides, I doubt there’s much I can say to remove the hero worship in Luke’s eyes.”

I look at Luke, and smile, glad that the closeness between Luke and me has not gone unnoticed by her.

“Milady,” I say as I pull out a chair for her. She glances over her shoulder at me, and takes her seat. “Thank you,” she says, somewhat surprised by my gallant gesture.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her. I take a seat across from her, beside Luke. “Where is Leia?”

“Right here!”

We turn to see Leia enter the room, her face looking flushed as though she has run all the way up to the house. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She comes up behind my chair, puts her arms around my neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek. She then moves to the other side of the table and gives her mother a hug.

“You haven’t,” replies Padmé with a smile. “We just sat down.”

“This looks amazing!” exclaims Leia as she sits beside her mother. “Please don’t tell me you did all this. I can’t cook to save my soul, and I’d hate to think I missed out on this incredible skill in the gene pool.”

Padmé laughs. “No, I did not do this,” she assures our daughter. “I’m afraid your cooking inadequacies are indeed genetic, Leia; as your father can tell you, I’m a woefully bad cook.”

“Now, I didn’t exactly say that,” I say in self defense.

“‘Can’t boil an egg’ were the exact words, weren’t they?” she asks Luke.

“Yep, that’s what he said,” Luke concurs with a nod. I look from my son back to my wife, sensing that they are ganging up on me.

“I sense a conspiracy,” I say at last, which earns laughter from all three of them.

“Don’t be so suspicious, Father,” Luke tells me affably.

Padmé and I look at one another, both of us relishing the brief sense of unity that the humor of the moment has created. For an instant, the past is not an issue, we are a family, enjoying one another’s company; I’ve missed you so much...I tell her, hoping she is still able to read me as she once did. I can see in her eyes that she is, that she has heard me. But suddenly she realizes that she has left her guard down and immediately raises it again. Disappointed, I try not to lose hope, however. We have shared a connection, one made possible by our two blessed children; will they be the means by which we will reconnect? Will the strength of their love for us and one another mend the brokenness of our past?

“So Han and Chewie are heading back to Coruscant?” asks Luke.

Leia nods as she helps herself to the eggs. “Yes,” she replies. “He said he’d be back tomorrow.”

I watch my daughter, sensing that she is not telling us something. “Is everything alright, Leia?” I ask her.

She looks up at me with a smile. “Yes, everything is just fine, Father. In fact, everything is wonderful.”

I raise an eyebrow and glance at Padmé.

“Oh?” I ask. “And why is that? Or need I ask?”

Leia blushes, looking down at her plate for a moment before looking up at us.

“Han asked me to marry him,” she tells us, the joy emanating from her in great waves.

“That’s fantastic!” exclaims Luke as he smiles broadly.

“Congratulations, Leia,” Padmé says, leaning over and kissing our daughter. “He seems like a fine young man.”

“He is,” I concur. “I like him a great deal.” I look at Leia. “I wish you every happiness, Leia,” I tell her with a smile.

“Thank you, Father,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“So why did he take off after asking you to marry him?” asks Luke.

Leia shrugs. “You know Han,” she says. “He’s kind of uncomfortable with the whole family thing, never having had one himself.”

“Yes, that’s probably part of it,” I concur. “Still, I hope he will come to feel as though he is a part of this family.”

Leia smiles. “Yes, I hope so to.”

“May I propose a toast?” asks Luke as he holds a glass of orange juice aloft.

“Yes of course,” replies Padmé, raising her glass as well.

Luke looks at each of us, and I can feel the depth of his emotions as he does so. “To us, the Skywalker family, and new beginnings.”

I look at Padmé as I raise my glass. “To new beginnings,” I say. She says nothing, but touches her glass to each of ours, returning the toast. It is a good sign, I decide; a sign that she is at least open to the possibility that we can start again. And that is enough to give me hope.

Luke and Leia spend the afternoon with their mother, getting acquainted with her, sharing their life experiences with her. I worry how she will react when she learns that they had been separated at birth, and raised on worlds light years apart. There is so much that Padmé must learn. Up until yesterday she believed that her precious children were dead; now she has a life time, no, two life times to catch up on. I feel a sense of dread as I realize how much of a role Darth Vader played in the lives of both of them, and no doubt she will resent me even further when she learns of the atrocities committed by Vader against each of them. The destruction of Alderaan…the mind probe…the death of Luke’s guardians, including Obi-Wan…Han Solo frozen in carbonite…my son’s right hand…there are so many atrocities, so many acts of horrible cruelty...how can I ever expect her to forgive me for all that?

As for me, I keep my promise and give them the space they need, and spend the afternoon tinkering about in the hangar bay, where I am amazed to find the very ship that had brought Padmé to Mustafar all those years ago. The Nubian has seen better days, but it seems in fair shape for a 25 year old vessel. I have spent the last 3 hours taking apart her hyperdirve, adjusting the power intake, and cleaning the chrome trimmings on her outer hull. I have always found fixing things to be therapeutic, and an excellent way to relieve stress. I can’t help but wonder what Padmé has learned about my interactions with our children over the past few years. Of course, I didn’t know they were our children for most of those years; still, I doubt that will make much of a difference.

I stand back and look at the ship, pleased with the job I’ve done of cleaning her up…looks better than that junk heap Solo flies, I reflect with amusement. Solo…soon to be my son-in-law. I frown as I polish a spot that I’d overlooked. I’m not ready to have a son-in-law…I’ve just got accustomed to having a son! And within a few years, no doubt I’ll be a grandfather! I stop as that thought sinks in, making me feel incredibly old all of a sudden. I’m not even 45 yet. I’m not ready to be a grandfather…certainly the thoughts I’ve had about Padmé since finding her again after all these years are anything but grandfatherly…

I pack up the tools I’ve been using and replace the kit on the shelf I found it on. I’m filthy... I realize as I look down at my hands and forearms. I look around for something to wipe my hands on, but find nothing at hand. “Great,” I mutter, realizing I’ll have to walk all the way back up the house now to wash up. With an impatient sigh, I start off.

Halfway up the path that we had followed the day before, I discover a second path that diverges around to the opposite side of the house. I decide to follow it, since there is still plenty of daylight left, and I am curious to see where it will lead.

The forest is close, and in parts I must bend down to avoid getting scratched with the low hanging branches that have been left to grow wild here. Eventually the path widens, the trees thin out, and I find myself standing at the edge of the lake. I look behind me to see the house, with the balcony where I had stood that morning with my wife above me. The thought of a quick swim appeals to me as I gaze out at the still waters, the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the beach hypnotic and peaceful. I remove my tunic and sleeveless vest underneath and toss them on the beach. I kick off my boots and hesitate for a moment before removing my trousers. I figure there’s no one around, so I take them off, leaving my boxers on just in case, and wade into the water. It is cold, but invigorating. I have never been a particularly gifted swimmer, not exactly graceful or fast, but I do manage pretty well for someone born on a planet where swimming only exists on holovids.

I make my way across the lake, at the narrow end of the lake, of course, and sit down on the beach. I look back at the house, seeing no sign of my children or wife. I close my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun penetrate my skin. It is amazing how one can appreciate something so simple when you have spent so long being deprived of it. The two decades spent in that damnable suit created in me a true appreciation of the simple pleasures that life offers; a swim on a warm sunny day, the warmth of the sun against bare skin, the kiss of my daughter on my cheek...all possible now. Even the sound of birds and the scent of flowers seem finer now, unfiltered and unaltered by artificial means. I lie back on the sand, stretch my legs out in front of me, and, before I know it, find myself dozing off under the warm afternoon sun.


I wake up with a start, feeling the evidence of a healthy sunburn as I do. “Damn it,” I mutter, examining my arms, chagrined to see them a bright hue of red. There was a time when the idea of getting sunburn was laughable to me; I grew up on a desert planet, and my skin was perpetually brown with the twin suns of Tatooine. But since my ‘rebirth’, the new skin that was created from my existing undamaged skin cells is much more sensitive, and not accustomed to the ravages of the sun. I should have realized that before I decided to have a snooze on a sunny day. I stand up; brush the sand off my skin, wincing at the brief contact with my sun burnt skin. Looking back at the opposite side of the lake, it seems to be much further than it did earlier. I wade into the water, and start back, the cold water soothing the sensitive skin.

I make my way back up to the house, carrying my tunics, not relishing the contact of the fabric against my skin. I follow the path around to the back of the house, to the entrance I used earlier this afternoon. As I enter the house, I over hear my children and Padmé talking. Though I cannot hear what is being said, I can sense the tension through the Force, and realize that they are talking about me. I cannot help but listen in, anxious to know how my wife will react when the ugly truth of my past is finally laid before her.

[therealthing]

CHAPTER 30

“Mother, you have to understand,” I hear my son tell her. “He didn’t know about us. He thought we had died with you!”

“I know that, Luke,” I hear Padmé reply. “But when I think of Leia enduring that interrogation…” she stops, and I can feel that she is crying. I close my eyes, my heart aching as I remember that dreadful episode aboard the Death Star.

“It’s alright, Mother,” I hear Leia now. “I’m fine. It was horrible, and for a long time I hated him. I hated him passionately, and not just for that, but for many other things too.”

“What other things?” asks Padmé, her voice tremulous with emotion.

Both of my children are silent, and I can sense their hesitation.

“I need to know,” Padmé says at last, her voice sounding stronger. “Please! If we are ever to be a real family, then there must be total truth between us. Please tell me what else Vader did.”

Well, at least she recognizes that it was Vader who did those heinous things, and not Anakin Skywalker…but will that matter in the end?

“I think it was when I destroyed the Death Star that Father learned who I was, that I was his son, your son,” begins Luke. “He told me that when he realized I was alive, that he scoured the Imperial data base to find out if you too were alive. It was agony for him to find footage from your funeral, Mother; I know that even when he was Vader he loved you tremendously.”

Padmé makes no reply, but I can feel her surprise at hearing this.

“He wanted me to join him,” continues Luke, “to help him destroy Palpatine. You see, the moment he realized that the emperor had lied to him about how you had died, he made a vow to destroy him, and wanted me to help him. He lured me to Bespin, using Leia and Han as bait.”

“Did he hurt you?” I hear Padmé ask, assumedly of our daughter.

“Not physically,” replies Leia. “But he handed Han over to a bounty hunter, after having him tortured and frozen in carbonite.”

“What??” cries Padmé. “Why would he do that?”

“He did it to bring me to Bespin,” Luke explains. “He knew that I would come, that I would sense the pain my friends were feeling. As for the carbonite, I imagine he was testing the unit on Han to make sure a human could survive the process. You see, he planned on using it on me in order to capture me. Only he didn’t have the chance. He and I fought, and it was there that I learned the truth, that he was my father.”

“You didn’t tell her about your hand, Luke,” Leia says quietly.

“What happened to your hand?” demands Padmé.

Luke sighs, and I sense that he wanted to spare her that for the moment. “Father…cut it off while we were fighting,” he tells her. “I guess he needed to get my attention,” he puts in wryly.

“Oh Luke,” Padmé gasps in horror. “My poor Luke…”

“It’s okay, Mother,” Luke reassures her. “I had an artificial one attached, and it’s almost as good as the real thing.”

“I can’t believe all this,” Padmé says quietly. “How were the two of you ever able to get past all this? How is it that you can forgive him for what he did, when he caused you so much pain?”

“We love him,” is Luke’s simple reason, and hearing it brings tears to my eyes. “When I first learned the truth, I was horrified. Obi-Wan had told me that Darth Vader had murdered my father, so when I learned that Darth Vader was my father, my world was turned upside down. But I was determined to find the good man who I knew had been my father at one time, for I knew that under all the anger and pain that had created Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker still lived. And I was right, Mother; he proved it when he killed Palpatine to save my life, putting his own life in jeopardy by doing so.”

“Your father told me that he’d killed Palpatine,” Padmé tells them. “I heard that he’d been killed of course,” says Padmé, “but I’d always just assumed that he’d died in the explosion of the Death Star.”

“No, he was killed by Anakin Skywalker,” replies Luke. “Palpatine would have killed me, Mother. He wanted me to become his new apprentice, to replace Father by killing him. I refuse, and that angered him. So he attacked me with Sith lightning, and as I lay there in agony, I called out to Father. He threw Palpatine down a reactor shaft, killing him, and nearly dying in the process. I owe him my life, Mother. I know he did a lot of terrible, unspeakable things when he lived as Darth Vader; but he has changed. He has been redeemed.”

“I didn’t think I could ever accept him,” Leia puts in at this point. “Not after everything I’d suffered because of him. But the more I got to know him, the more I felt connected to him. I felt as though I’d finally found a part of me that I never knew was missing. He saved my life too, Mother. We were ambushed on Coruscant, and he shielded me from certain death. I love him, Mother, and I know he loves Luke and I deeply. I only hope that you can see in him what we do, see the man you once loved, for that is who he is now. Vader is gone; there is no doubt in my mind or in my heart.”

“I know how much you both love him,” says Padmé at last, her voice barely audible. “It is obvious to anyone. I…I didn’t know all this. I didn’t know he saved your lives, both of you…I just assumed that once he became Darth Vader he was incapable of doing anything out of love. I saw what happened to him, I saw the man I loved turn into the Sith monster that destroyed the Jedi and terrorized the galaxy. That day has been burned into my mind for 22 years, for try as I might, I cannot understand what happened to the man I loved, my Ani. I cannot forget how he turned on me…how I was robbed of everything because of him. I never got to see the two of you grow up, never got to feed you from my body, never saw your first steps, or hear your first words...those years are gone forever, and nothing, no amount of regret or redemption can bring them back,” she stops as the emotions overtake her.

I can feel her shock, her revulsion, her horror at all that has been revealed to her. And above all, I can feel her pain, her loss. She is right; nothing can ever bring back those years, they are gone forever. I lean my forehead against the wall and close my eyes. The damage is too great, the wounds too deep...so deep that forgiving me is beyond her ability…the pain I caused her is horrific, but added to what I did to our children, it is utterly reprehensible…

Suddenly I feel Luke’s presence in my mind. He knows that I am standing there listening. Come in here he tells me. She needs to hear the rest from you... I resist his suggestion, not wanting to face Padmé at this moment, knowing that the anger she directed at me the previous day will be multiplied ten fold now that she knows of the suffering I have caused our children. No Luke, not yet…she isn’t ready yet…I’m not ready yet…. Luke accepts this reluctantly, and I walk away, being sure that my presence is not noticed by my wife. I walk up the stairs, my heart heavy. I wonder what pain is worse; the pain of her being dead, or facing the rest of my life knowing she is alive but wants nothing to do with me…I enter the small room I shared with my son the previous night and sit down heavily on the edge of the bed, my hands holding my face, emotions choking me. “Forgive me, my angel,” I whisper. “Please, forgive me.”