For Morgan.

Love, The Oblivion

Chapter 1

Breathing heavily, Luke Skywalker—Jedi Knight, son of Lord Vader—hid in the darkness. He could feel Vader stalking the low-ceilinged area all around him, and he fought against plugging his ears to block out the cackle of the Emperor above him. Vader was looking for Luke, and while it was dark, there was no doubt he would find him. Already, Luke could see the dim glow of red surrounding the area.

"You cannot hide forever, Luke," Vader taunted, giving his lightsaber a wag.

"I will not fight you." Breathless. Why did he sound so scared?

"Give yourself to the Dark Side. It is the only way you can save your friends." Vader's voice was smug, and Luke felt his fear sink deeper. "Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for..." Vader stopped. Luke cringed, squeezing his eyes tight in anguish; he could almost feel Vader probing his brain. "Sister! So...you have a twin sister. Your feelings have now betrayed her, too. Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me; now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps she will."

Through his mind flashed Leia, hands outstretched to choke off his air supply, eyes dark and dangerous. Anger simmered against his will, harbored right against his heart. In a burst of green light, Luke ignited his lightsaber.

"Never!" he screamed, lunging toward his father's shadow with anger he was both encouraging and ashamed of. Gold sparks flew around them as Vader's even breathing picked up him.

It only fueled Luke's attack.

Following Vader's retreat, Luke barely noticed the change of pace and place. Pushing out of the low area and across a bridge overlooking a vast elevator shaft, Luke's saber drove Vader backwards, backwards, until Luke watched him fall to his knees, reach out for another stroke, and receive an unforgiving blow to his right wrist. A black-gloved hand fell to the ground. Sliced off mercilessly.

Luke blinked.

That was his own doing.

The mechanics fizzed and spluttered as Vader's sword clattered into the abyss. As if he was possessed, Luke impulsively moved his blade to Vader's throat.

One jab. One good jab and this hated monster's reign is ended.

An age of peace ushered in by Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight.

"Good!" The Emperor was restless; smile nearly splitting his face in two. "Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side!"

All Luke could do was study his father's severed hand.

How similar it was to his own, now that he thought about it. Mechanical, if the loose wires were any indication, and covered with a black leather glove.

How had his father fallen?

Was it just like this? Staring his ego, his potential, his desires in the face and hating them and wanting them so desperately at the same time that it physically hurt? Was it a brainless question? Or had he slowly descended the stairwell into the darkness, always looking back to the top of the stairs to make sure the decision was the right one?

Vader didn't move. His stare was even and accepting.

He couldn't.

Luke stepped back and hurled his lightsaber away.

"Never," Luke panted. For Leia, for Han, for Ben. "I'll never turn to the dark side. You've failed, Your Highness." For the Rebels, for the dead, for the living. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

Luke saw the exact moment the Emperor's glee turned to rage.

"So be it...Jedi." The Emperor spat the word out, as if the word itself was rotten to the core. He stood in silence, walking slowly down the steps. A surge of courage filled Luke's vein, enveloping his heart.

For a future full of hope, not fear.

He couldn't move. Every nerve in him was anchored down to where he stood, surrounded by canisters and supplies.

As the Emperor reached the bottom of the stairs, he raised a foreboding arm, lazily pointing at Luke. "If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed," the Emperor hissed, hands poised to strangle.

Suddenly, Luke realized how unimportant he was in the Emperor's eyes. Bend to his will, or choose to die. There was no bargain—Luke was fooling himself if he thought he'd make it out alive. Almost unconsciously, he sucked in a deep breath.

Goodbye Leia, Han, Chewie, R2 and C3P0.

But the throttle never came.

Instead, blinding, searing bolts of energy shot out from the Emperor's fingers crackling their way through the space between him and Luke.

Lightning.

In an effort to stop the searing pain, he reached out with the Force to protect himself, hoping to deflect or reroute the powerful bolts.

The second round is deflected.

Luke's heart soars. I did it! he cheers. Master Yoda, Ben, I did it!

Then his strength gave out.

The bolts came at such a speed, such a power that Luke's knees were taken out from under him and he crashed to the ground in a heap of boiling defeat.

He was a young Jedi again, shrinking before a power he didn't know existed.

His knees buckle, and then he was lying on the ground, defenseless and writhing in agony.

"Young fool..." the Emperor emphasized his words with a flick of his wrist, the rising temperature shattering Luke's every thought. "Only now, at the end, do you understand."

Luke cried: tears streaming down his face as the lightning coursed through him. His heart pulsed at an ugly, ratchet rhythm. Underneath the constant attacks, Luke felt his consciousness seeping out of him, and in a feeble attempt to stem off what was left of his life he hugged a canister to his chest.

The bottomless oblivion loomed beneath Luke like a promise.

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the Dark Side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision." The Emperor's taunts fell on deaf ears; Luke couldn't hear anything over the uneven beating of his every vein.

The pain was reaching unbearable levels, but with the last of his strength Luke reached toward his father. "Augh, father, please. Errgh, help me! Agh!"

Vader stood, eyes never wavering from Luke's lightning-incased body.

"Now, young Skywalker," the Emperor said. "...You will die."

The outpouring of bolts from the Emperor's hands doubled in intensity. Luke's screams echoed throughout the throne room, feral and raw, ripped from his throat in haste to escape. His body contorted, soaking up the bolts with abandon, life force fleeing his body. Behind his eyelids bled reds and hot whites.

But as if Luke had crossed an unknown threshold, the lightning's heat pulled away, the searing turned to boiling. Luke's death grip on the canister lessened slightly. Through blurry, fluttering eyelids he managed to steal a glimpse of his surroundings.

Vader had the Emperor from behind, wrestling him into submission despite his weakened arm. The Emperor spluttered and cursed, the blue lightning lifting away from Luke but never faltering in the least. Bolts eat at Vader's black cloak and helmet, flickering glimpses of the man inside.

Luke couldn't breathe. His father's heartbeat held the same tempo as his own.

Vader stumbled toward the abyss, his Master held high over his head.

The next thing that Luke saw between blinks was the Emperor's body, tumbling down helplessly into the void, the lightning getting sucked down with him. An explosion that blew his sweaty hair off his forehead tossed him off of his canister and farther into the throne room.

Vader saved him.

His father saved him.

Luke watches in disbelief as his father staggered before collapsing, too close to the edge of the hole. One breath, and he could be tossed into the oblivion.

Luke held up his two trembling hands. Could he lift his father away from that ledge? He could barely swallow to quench his dry throat, let alone walk to him from across the room. Panting hard, Luke managed to prop himself up on all fours, shakily crawling hand over hand to his father's side, folding into a heap of weakness only two or three times.

His father's mask was wheezing.

He didn't have much time.

"I'm coming, father," Luke croaked, ignoring his aching body and fried brain. "Don't move, you'll…you'll fall." His heart warned him to stay still, pattering away at breakneck speed. "I can save you, just…just don't move."

Vader keened a mellow note. "Luke, my son, you have already saved me."

No. No, no, no. Vader couldn't give up now. His father couldn't give up now. Luke was almost there, though he could sense through the Force something was off.

"I-I just…I just…" Luke tried to explain what he felt, that he knew his father's thoughts. At the same time, he wanted to reassure him. Tell him that all he ever wanted was to know his father, and that he never lost faith that he would come back to him someday. Luke had found that day; it couldn't be too late.

"Luke, you're going to leave me for a little while. Don't be scared," Vader sounded fatherly, and when Luke finally reached where his father lay, Vader gathered him up in his arms. "I will always be with you. The Force will keep you strong."

"Wha?" Luke slurred, feeling as if the world was slipping away behind a gooey curtain. "I'm not leaving you." Vader guided Luke's hands to his helmet, and with a hiss it clicked free. Luke tried to pull away. "You—don' take it off. You'll die."

"I want my last moments with you to be with Anakin Skywalker, your father. Not Vader."

And with one final hiss, the helmet was on the ground, and Luke saw his father's face.

"Don't be afraid, my son."

Then the room spun sideways, and Luke collapsed onto the cold black marble. His eyes slid shut as a glorious smell filled his nostrils, like a field of lilies had rushed to greet him.

All was dark. Luke had never felt so alone.

Then, colors.