Luke was put aboard the first shuttle back to Home One, along with Lando, Wedge, and several others who command apparently thought needed debriefing. He was steadfastly ignoring the pain he was in, even though it felt like it had been slowly increasing throughout the course of the day. Leia, Han and Chewie were staying behind for now, along with Threepio, to ensure the Ewoks stayed friendly to the Rebels at least until everyone had left, and considering how he'd been introduced to the Ewoks, Luke thought it was a sensible idea, though he'd never felt like he'd been in any real danger. They'd all need debriefing, too, of course, but Luke supposed that command couldn't debrief everyone at once in any case.
"Hey Luke, what are you thinking about?" asked Wedge.
"Just friends," said Luke, smiling. "You don't think they'll keep us in the debriefing too long, do you?"
"Oh, they'll probably keep us there for the whole day. No, the whole week," said Wedge, grinning. "We've got such a lot to say, after all."
Luke laughed, then tried to cover up his wince as the laughter jarred his aching bones.
"I hope they don't keep us that long," said Lando. "I've got things to do. It takes a lot of effort to look this good."
"Whatever it is that you do, it works," Luke told him, grinning. "I'm sure I don't look that good."
"Oh, but you do, Luke," Wedge insisted. "You've got all the muscles, and the Jedi powers."
"If you say so," said Luke. "You're in pretty good shape yourself, you know."
"Well, I try," Wedge replied.
It wasn't long before they reached their destination. Luke was called into the debriefing room first, separately from the others. He winked at Wedge and Lando before he went in, and tried to ignore the deep soreness in his muscles and the slight lack of responsiveness in his prosthetic hand.
"Commander Skywalker," Mon Mothma greeted him. Admiral Ackbar was also there. "It's good to see you in one piece. Do come in."
"Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar. It's good to be in one piece," he admitted, entering and taking a seat. "I want to go to medical after this, though, so please don't keep me too long."
"We'll try not to," said Ackbar. "We've heard in our communications from the ground that you went aboard the Death Star, rather than staying with the ground team. Can you tell us what you were doing there?" Luke took a deep breath.
"Certainly," he agreed, and began telling the story of the previous day's events. Mothma and Ackbar let him finish, then looked at each other.
"So, you left the rest of your team, surrendered yourself to Vader, and he took you to the Emperor?" clarified Mothma. "Why?"
"That's correct," said Luke. "I needed to confront Vader as part of my Jedi training, and if I'd stayed on the moon, he would have sensed me there, and come for the ground team." Mothma nodded, and made a note.
She continued, "You said that the Emperor and Vader both died before the Death Star exploded. You killed both of them?"
"No," said Luke. "Vader killed the Emperor, and then died from his injuries. He came back to the light, at the end."
"Back to the light? We thought Vader was always a Sith," Ackbar said.
Luke breathed in, considering what he should tell them. He decided the truth was the best option. "I ask that you don't share this with people yet. Darth Vader was originally Anakin Skywalker, my father."
"I thought he'd died in the Clone Wars," Mothma said, eyes wide. "You're absolutely right that we shouldn't make this widely known."
"In the end, he couldn't… he couldn't bear to see me suffer," Luke admitted. "He overthrew the bonds of his master, and saved my life. The lightning fried his life support systems, and he died as I was carrying him to a shuttle."
"Lightning?" Ackbar asked, alarmed. "What lightning?"
"…the lightning that the Emperor was using to attack me," Luke explained. "I did say I wanted to go to medical."
Mothma looked at him, as if suddenly seeing the pain he was in. "Get to medical, Commander. We've heard enough for now. We'll finish debriefing you later."
"Thank you," Luke said, and left.
The medical bay was cold, white, and clinical. Luke glanced at his prosthetic hand, remembering the time it'd been fitted, then shook his head and headed into the room.
"Commander Skywalker!" said the examiner, scrambling to get to his feet, clearly caught by surprise. "Is there something I can do for you, sir?"
"Yes, actually," explained Luke. "I sustained… ah… electrocution injuries during the battle yesterday. They still hurt, so I'd like you to check me over."
"Of course, sir, right away," the examiner agreed. He was a middle aged human, and Luke was sure he'd seen him around before. "If you come over here, the medical droid will take a scan."
"Thank you, Doctor…?" Luke headed to the bed near the droid, took his shirt off, and lay down to allow himself to be scanned.
"Fliss, Oorden Fliss, sir," said the examiner. Fliss looked worriedly at the burn lines streaking across Luke's torso.
"Doctor Fliss, then." Luke waited while the droid moved the portable scanner across his body. "And please, call me Luke."
"Scan completed," the droid informed them. "Right hand is prosthetic. Circuitry may be damaged. Maintenance recommended. Calcification of bones detected: 80%. External burns detected: 2%. Internal burns detected: throughout 70% of body. External bruising: 2%. No other injuries. Immediate treatment recommended."
"Luke? You're on bed rest, starting now." Fliss commanded. "I don't want to see you out of that bed. I'm ordering bacta treatment for you as soon as possible. What have you been doing walking around all day?" Luke tried not to look too sheepish.
"I didn't want everyone to worry," he admitted. "They were all having fun celebrating, and I was just glad to be alive."
"Well, they'll worry a lot less if you don't give yourself some kind of permanent injury by letting yourself go untreated," Fliss admonished him, shaking his head, while sending an urgent request for bacta on his datapad. "What was it that electrocuted you, anyway? I haven't seen a case this bad for years. You're lucky it didn't stop your heart."
"It was the Emperor," Luke told him.
"The Emperor?" Fliss said. "You met him? He went down to the moon?"
"I met him," said Luke, "but it was me who went up to him, on the Death Star." Fliss looked at him with wide eyes, even as he started treating Luke's burns.
"When you're healed, you've got to tell me that story," Fliss said.
"Some day, I'll tell everyone the story," said Luke. "It's not the time yet, though. Just know that the Emperor and Darth Vader are both dead."
"You must be in a lot of pain," Fliss commented, "but it doesn't look like it's bothering you that much."
"I am, but I'm using the Force to help me ignore it," Luke revealed, grinning slightly. "Us Jedi are useful for some things, after all."
"Ah, I see… I think," said Fliss. "Still, if it gets too bad, let me know, and we can get you some painkiller. The bacta should be ready in another five minutes."
"Good," said Luke. "And I think I'll be fine until then."
True to Fliss's word, a group of technicians appeared five minutes later, bringing one of the large bacta tanks out of storage. Apparently, the only reason one hadn't been available immediately was that the ones already in use were occupied by pilots who'd been injured in the battle around the Death Star, and Luke understood that perfectly, so he was happy to wait his turn. Fliss wheeled the bed over to where the tank would be stationed. Then he helped Luke strip down further, refusing to let him just do it himself, which made Luke blush a little, but he was a Jedi, so he decided he ought to be able to cope with it. Someone put a mask on his face, and a medical droid administered what was presumably a sedative. As it began to take effect, the technicians lifted him up and lowered him into the bacta, and then everything went black.