On a planet in the Outer Rim, whose name nobody was allowed to know, the Phantom touched down on an under-maintained landing pad.

"You're better at landing than your father," said Ahsoka. "He used to crash every ship he flew, and none moreso than at landings."

It had taken a lot of negotiation between Luke and the crew of the Ghost to commandeer the Phantom on what Kanan had called a 'family visit'. Ashoka had expected him to put up the most resistance to the plan, and that it would take the combined efforts of Ezra and Hera to talk him into letting them 'visit', but he had proved, surprisingly, to be rather amicable to the idea.

"You have seen him, right? In his armour, I mean."

"I almost wish I hadn't."

"Well, it's good ya have, because . . . Ahsoka, I don't know what happened, but when his mask is off it's not a pretty sight."

The man who had been Darth Vader, as it turned out, did not have his mask off, but was standing over a wreck of an engine of some kind trying to fix it one-handed. As the door hissed open, he turned to face Luke and Ahsoka. He went very still. Luke suddenly noticed that the rasp of the respirator, which would have filled in the silence, was missing. He had expected as such, after the operation, but the breathing was so synonymous with his father's black, hulking image that its absence was quite jarring.

"Skyguy," said Ahsoka by way of greeting. Her voice was audibly thick.

"Hello, Snips," he shot back.

Another silence.

"Do you have anything to say?" Ahsoka said at last. Her voice was clear, but there was a distinct wobble there.

"No."

"What about an apology?"

"What good would an apology do now?"

More painful silence.

"Y'know, Skyguy, you were always terrible at apologies. Guess this is really you, right?"

"Hiding behind humour does not suit you, Ahsoka. If you are grieving for me, I would rather you went ahead and grieved instead of shutting your eyes to the reality of things."

Ashoka looked up.

"You're right," she said. "You've changed after all.

"Now I could be bitter at you for my montrals, and I could be bitter at you for everything that Darth Vader has done. But I won't. I don't have to be. Anakin . . . welcome home."

"I apologize for taking off your montrals."

"Now whose hiding behind humour?"

The secret medical facility on this planet had been set up in one wing of some ancient grand building, and in said building was a high, echoing hall in which father, son and apprentice stood. There was a tall rectangular opening in the stonework, which afforded a sweeping view of the forests and the skies outside.

Stars gleamed down at them, and the full moon's silvery glow provided light.

Anakin Skywalker stared out at it for a moment before turning so that his profile faced the window.

"We came here for answers, Father," said Luke. "We want to know why you fell to the Dark Side."

Anakin turned to face them. His back was to the window now, and one side of his mask was steeped in shadow; the other reflected the moonlight; and the white moon itself shone brightly over the curve of his dark helmet.

"Many reasons," he said, "but the greatest was that I was a fool and a coward. I thought the problem was with the galaxy when the problem was with me."

"What do you mean, Father?"

"How much have you been told about my youth, Luke?"

"Different things. Uncle Owen and Ahsoka here both said you were stubborn. But everybody else says you were brave, and good, and compassionate. I don't understand what happened."

"Very well. The Emperor - the Chancellor, he was then - told me at the end of the Clone Wars that he had heard of the power to cheat death."

"And you took it to end the war?" asked Luke

"No. The war was already coming to an end by then; it was all but over. But your mother was dying."

"My mother? How?"

Anakin turned away.

"You remember Bespin?"

"Yes, Father. It's hard to forget."

"And you know how your Grandmother died?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with it?"

"Everything, because before her death I dreamed of her capture. And then three years later I began to dream of your mother's death.

"I tried so hard to stop them. That was how I knew you would come to Bespin. But I also tried to ignore my dreams about my mother in the name of duty, and by the time I knew I had to find her, it was too late. So you can imagine what I thought when I dreamed of your mother's death when she was pregnant with you, and I could not even see your future, Luke. I thought, at the time, that you would both die before you were even born.

"And then the Chancellor came to me, and told me he knew of my troubles, and that he had heard of a way to cheat death.

"So I returned to the Jedi to tell them that the Emperor was our ancient enemy, and they sent their best men in the system to confront him. He killed all but one of them by the time I got there - your mother did not want me to go, but I disobeyed her wishes.

"By the time I got there, the Jedi Master and the Chancellor were in a stalemate, and each one was wounding the other grievously. At the time, I was fool enough to trust the Chancellor, because I thought he was my only hope of saving you. I disarmed the Jedi Master, and that sorry-excuse-for-a-sentient killed him.

"I knew, then, that I had gone too far. The Jedi of old were unforgiving, and there had grown between them and I such a rift that I did not think I had hope of crossing it. So I knelt and pledged myself to the Emperor; and from then on I was his man until you saved me."

"Why did you tell the Jedi that the Emperor was your enemy?" asked Luke, and then, as a new thought took hold - "Hey - if he was Chancellor, doesn't that mean he got elected? Why on earth would anybody elect him?"

"Playing the galaxy from the start, he was," said a familiar voice, and Ahsoka cried out "Master Yoda!"

"Yes," the disembodied voice continued, "Another tale, is that, and a happy one for your mother and father."

"But not a happy day for the galaxy," pointed out Anakin.

"In agreement, on this, we are," said Yoda, "And tell them, you should, of Mustafar."

"Mustafar?!" gasped Ahsoka in horror. "Where Jedi go to die?"

"Yes. As soon as I pledged myself to the Emperor, he ordered me to attack the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and to kill everyone in it. Of Order 66, I have already told you.

"Immediately after that, he sent me to Mustafar to kill the last of the Separatist Leaders.

"What he did not know was that I told your mother of where I was going, although not of my intent. Obi-Wan came to her after I had left, and told her of my part in the Temple Massacre, and she came after me to Mustafar."

Ashoka suddenly groaned. "Anakin - please say you didn't -"

"I regret to say that I did. She landed after my business was done, and asked me to come away. She did not believe that I had fallen to the Dark Side, and wanted me to return to who I had been.

"When I told her that I had indeed done so, and offered her a place by my side, she told me, as you did, Luke - that she would never join me as I was then, and tried to leave."

"And then I turned up," said another disembodied voice with a clipped Coruscanti accent, and the ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi shimmered into being. Both Anakin and Ahsoka jumped.

"There was an altercation . . . and we fought. I almost believed Skywalker dead, and when I won the fight, I did not see how he could survive. So I left him, and the Emperor found him and . . . put him in the suit, I would assume."

"You did not mention the worst of it," said Anakin roughly.

"Should he know?"

"He is the same age as I was, and infinitely more stable."

"What?" Luke's head swivelled between the three others standing there. "But - if you were the same age as I was - then you'd be -"

"Forty-six."

"Oh," said Luke in surprise. He scratched the back of his neck. "I . . . I always imagined you would be older, Father. Forty-six . . . that's . . . that's young."

"At your age, I would have thought forty-six rather ancient, doubtless," said Anakin, with a touch of amusement to his voice. "Obi-Wan was thirty-eight at the time, and I believed him to be a humourless old-fashioned space slug."

"Hardly humourless, apprentice mine," said Obi-Wan.

"Yup," echoed Ahsoka. "But we aren't supposed to hide behind humour, are we?"

"No," said Anakin, suddenly serious. "When he came up . . . I thought that he was trying to steal Padmé Amidala away from me, although I had already done that deed many times over. I thought she had betrayed me, and . . . she was wounded by my hand. She must have lived long enough to give birth . . . but I do not . . . I do not doubt . . . that it was by . . . those wounds . . . that she . . . that she died."

Anakin Skywalker reached out with his good hand, and took two steps over to a stone pillar to brace himself upright.

"She said one thing of you after she recovered consciousness," said Obi-Wan. Mask and montral whipped round; Luke kept his focus on his father.

"She asked if you were alright, and she said that there was still good in you."

Anakin said nothing.

"Skyguy?" said Ahsoka, "Are you . . ."

" . . . Her son takes after her more than I had thought," said Anakin at last. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, and not because of the lung operation that had been done on him four days prior. The stars were shining ever brighter, and something about Luke's presence was making him want to rush over and hug the boy . . .

Darth Vader had not done hugs, but Anakin Skywalker had, and he most certainly did so now.

"Well, goodbye, Anakin," said Ahsoka a day later as she climbed into the Phantom. "See ya 'round."

Luke gave his father that beaming smile that he's gotten from Padmé. "I'd stay longer, but the Alliance needs me. Are you sure that you'll be OK?"

"It is my duty to worry about you, son, not the other way around."

"And when it's time for your next transplant . . ."

"I doubt things will go wrong, Luke. I have survived two burnings which would have killed anybody else, and countless other illness and injuries besides."

He had been given a full lung transplant, which was far more comfortable and took away the rasp of his breathing, but he still needed his mask to act as a filter of micro-organisms and a purifier of oxygen. He would need a transplant every year or so, the medics had told him, and with each transplant his bodily abilities would decrease and the risk of post-operation mortality would increase.

"Well, yeah, tell me how you're doing and I'll tell you how I am."

He had no right to have anybody so concerned about him, but to refuse such concern would be as arrogant as demanding it, and so he said, "I shall. Tell your sister of your mother. They would be extraordinarily proud of one another. I would like her to have one parent she is able to love."

"Will do, Father. Hey, are you gonna rest here like the medics told you for a week, or do you have other plans?"

"I intend to make this galaxy a better place."

"How?"

"I was born a slave, and kept enslaved all my life. What better way to ensure that others are freed?"