And here we are, starting the final story in the Luck series. This story is the sequel to "No Manner of Luck at All".

The title is from a quote by Cormac McCarthy. The full quote is "You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from."

Enjoy!

Luke Skywalker let himself drop down from the high obstacle course. He'd been trying to engage in the form of moving meditation that Yoda had taught him, but there was no peace for him tonight.

There'd been no peace for him in the last two weeks, not since he and Han Solo had been brought to Coruscant. There was a miasma about the capital planet that wouldn't let him relax and just fall into the Force.

The nightmares hadn't helped. Something in the Imperial Palace sent his Force senses into overdrive. He kept feeling echoes of pain and anger, fear and hatred, and the horrible, horrible feeling of death over it all. He didn't know how his father or sister could stand it. It was making it so hard for him to function.

He didn't dare bring it up to anyone else, though. He knew the echoes he was getting were of the Dark Side, and what his father's suggestion for dealing with them would be.

Luke stepped to the side, and once more into an eddy of emotion- a child's fear this time. He wanted to hide, and never let the men chasing him find him. Frantically, Luke shored up his shields as he stepped to the side. He had to do something about this.

Luke wasn't even sure what had happened in the building. He'd figured out that the building had predated the Empire by, at the very least, centuries, but he couldn't find out just what it had been.

Luke groaned and shook his head just as the door hissed open.

Luke looked over at the sound of his father's breathing. "Luke, I can feel your distress from halfway across the Palace," Vader said. "What is it?"

Luke grimaced. "I thought I was shielding better than that," he said instead of answering the question.

Vader shook his head. "I can feel how tired you are," he said. "Haven't you been sleeping?"

Luke looked away. "Nightmares," he finally mumbled.

Vader stilled completely. "What sort?" he asked.

Luke took a deep breath. "Not visions… at least, not visions of the future," he said. "They're violent and full of fear, and they always end bloody. Usually at the hands of men wearing old-style Trooper uniforms. From the Clone Wars. Unless you bring the style back, I think I'm ok."

Vader relaxed slightly. "Can you tell me anything else?"

Luke frowned. "I…" he shook his head, frustrated. He knew what his father was going to say to the rest of it. "And there's some serious emotional echoes in the Palace, Father. There's one in this room, in fact, I just stepped into- and quickly out- of it. A child, hiding from someone and fearing for their life. What happened here?"

Vader crossed over to stand in front of Luke. Luke got the impression that his father was studying him. "I should have known this would happen," he mused. "You're still stubbornly clinging to the Light, so the echoes are bothering you."

Luke tried not to groan. He wasn't successful.

Vader held up his hand. "No, I won't go into that, Luke, not tonight. You're too tired. As to what happened here…" Vader hesitated. "The Imperial Palace was once the Jedi Temple."

Luke's eyes widened. "The Purge," he whispered.

Vader nodded. "Most of the Jedi who did not die on the battlefield died in this building."

It had been a long two weeks, and Luke wasn't able to keep a Jedi's peace any longer. He lost his struggle for composure and clapped his hand over his mouth, struggling to contain his emotions- not to mention the sudden nausea. He was feeling the deaths of the Jedi. They were screaming out to him from the past, and that…

"I should not have brought you here," Vader sighed as he guided Luke over to a nearby bench. "I should have known you would feel the past here."

Luke bent over and breathed carefully, trying to reach to the Force for comfort. Vader reached out and placed his gloved hand on Luke's forehead. "Let me in," he ordered.

Confused and overwhelmed, Luke lowered his shields enough that Vader could reach his mind- and a gentle lassitude spread through his body and mind.

"Father, what…?" Luke asked.

"Just relax, Luke," Vader said. "Control yourself."

Luke took a deep breath, and allowed the artificial calm to spread. He relaxed against his father's armored form and his eyes fluttered. After a moment, he straightened up. He couldn't fall asleep in the gym, not even the private one that only the royal family could use.

"Thank you, Father," he said.

Vader nodded once. "Luke, you do know the only way to fully armor yourself against the emotions of the past is to use those same emotions, right?"

Luke didn't bother hiding his reaction- he dropped his head into his hands. "I will not turn to the Dark Side, Father," he groaned into the palms of his hands. This was turning into a near constant family argument.

Vader didn't say anything for a while. The only sound in the room was his breathing. Finally, he spoke. "I witnessed Obi-Wan use his emotions many times during the Clone Wars. He remained in the Light to the end."

"Obi-Wan had decades more experience as a Jedi," Luke said as he lowered his hands but kept his head down. "I don't know what the limits are, and I'm not really willing to explore them." He was still staring at his fingers.

Luke could feel Vader's annoyed understanding. "Very well," he said. "But Luke… be careful. You will need to do something soon. You need to sleep."

Luke nodded. He felt his father turn and leave. The door opened, then shut behind the older man. Finally, Luke looked up. Maybe his father was right, but Luke had to believe he was wrong. He had too.

He sighed, stood up, and jumped onto the high beam again, starting the obstacle course once more. Maybe this time, he'd actually be able to relax.