Part 4, dang. It feels like only yesterday I started writing this… really was a cute idea, huh? Well, this is the last part. Hope you enjoyed. This one's a doozy.

DISCLAIMER: I don't think I bought Disney since the last part, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say I don't own Star Wars.

Chapter 4: Return

!0*0!

Kastan Enderbeck awoke to blackness. True, suffocating blackness, the kind of darkness that instinctively kept the human mind on edge, ever on the watch for the extraordinary and the impossible.

There was no feeling in either of his legs. He attempted to move them, but there was no response from either.

He rolled over, attempting to get a better feel for his surroundings, and rolled straight into a wall.

From what he could tell, the wall closest to him was flexible, and almost billowy. The other wall that he could find, however, was rigid and unmoving. Then again, his movement was severely limited by the walls, ceiling, and uncooperative legs. After investigating his surroundings and finding nothing of importance, Kastan returned to his starting position, and fell asleep.

Some time later, he awoke. Judging by how stiff he was, and the overwhelming need for another pill of Alanine, he had probably been asleep for at least twenty-four hours.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling for who knows how long, thinking cynical thoughts.

Then someone opened a door. Kastan threw up his hand to protect his eyes from the blinding, overpowering light.

"Don't move. I have GRX-608 training a blaster on you. Commander GRG-892 requested that we're on duty to give you the pills, or whatever those are."

As if a gun from the doorway would make any difference, Kastan thought. He obliged anyway.

The stormtrooper all but tossed the pills to Kastan, stopped for a moment, then shook his head and threw apart the malleable wall that Kastan had examined the day before. It had apparently been blinders of some kind, shielding Kastan's eyes from the miraculous, throbbing stars that hung in space beyond. He stared dumbly at them for a while, then popped a pill into his mouth before lying down again, to contemplate where he had heard the name GRG-892 before.

!0*0!

"Lord Vader, this is Grand Moff Tarkin, come in."

"What do you want?"

"The Emperor's patience grows thin. He wants his Insurgent back. Do you realize how much something like him costs? Hundreds of millions of credits! Billions, maybe!"

"You can tell the Emperor," Vader replied with an aura of deadly calm, "That I have the Insurgent in custody as of this very instant."

"Of course, my Lord. Also, there is one thing I must ask of you."

"What is that? I'd rather not waste time."

"If Operation is to be a total success, we must have full control of the Kolto, which means no other sources of Kolto."

"I had thought," Vader said with more than a hint of anger tainting his voice, "That Manaan was the only source of kolto in the galaxy."

"That was in the past. The Insurgent's adopted sister finally figured out how to synthesize kolto on Anoat. There can be no exceptions: she must die, and there must be no way anyone can pin blame on the Empire. We need to cut funding, destroy Anoat, and make sure that no one ever thinks to find kolto there ever again. As a side note, we can also use her as an interrogation device on the Insurgent himself."

"You'll need to take that to the Emperor himself. However, I do approve."

"Yes, my Lord. Over and out."

!0*0!

From his prison window, the glimmering stars set fire to Kastan's eyes, reflexively forcing them shut. Before long, though, they faded to mere pinpricks of light against the vast black backdrop of space. The window was slightly convex, and to Kastan's dismay, he could clearly see the engines not too far from him. At least that explained the powerful heat coursing through the room.

The room cooled abruptly, as the engines shut off and the hyperdrive initiated, pushing the craft into space. White to blue to white. Each trip was slightly different.

Another life, fading into nothingness.

Time to reinvent himself again.

The Star Destroyer exited hyperspace unceremoniously, over the city-world of Coruscant. Something about all of this felt oh, so wrong.

With considerable effort, Kastan Enderbeck rolled over and propped himself into a sitting position. Knowing the Empire like he did, they were broadcasting into his cell at all times. For that reason, he had to not only look his best, but also look strong for any other Rebels out there. The teen glared ferociously at the flashing red light in the corner of the dark room.

Another shudder; the Star Destroyer landed. Just afterwards, a party of ten stormtroopers forced their way into his cell and placed Kastan surprisingly gently in a storage box alongside a slew of Imperial-grade weapons. If only Kastan knew anything about how to use them.

Half an hour passed before light finally reached Kastan's eyes. Just before it did, the cart began tipping and he was vaulted onto the floor. He had been moved to a larger, albeit more humid cell.

He spat out a bit of dust and pulled himself to the random pole situated in the middle of the room.

"Uh… dude? What are you doing?"

The pole started moving, dropping Kastan to the floor.

"Ow... " he groaned.

"But seriously, what were you attempting to do?" the voice emanated.

"My legs don't respond to what my brain tells me to do, so I had to use something to prop myself up," Kastan explained. "Am I going nuts?"

"No, no, no. It's all good. I understand, I think. Introductions are in order. I'm Tariga Lekrave. Yourself?"

"Kastan Enderbeck, it's nice to meet you."

They shook hands as best as they could.

There was silence for a minute or two.

"Huh. I wonder…"

"What?"

"Eh, never mind. You know how to play Pazaak?"

"Unfortunately, no. Should I?"

"I suppose I could teach you… but not now. You willing to cooperate with me?"

"Do I have a choice?" Kastan asked wryly.

"Frankly, no. You said your legs didn't do what your brain tells them to?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still have total control over the rest of your body?"

"As far as I know."

"Okay, so I suppose you can use your upper body to crawl, no?"

"In theory, yes. In practice, maybe."

"Okay. See that cot over there? Crawl to that."

Kastan obliged, only using the Force a little bit. He lay there, facedown, waiting.

A sharp pain shot through his body. Judging from Kastan's sense of touch, it originated from the base of his neck.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Tariga muttered something in Ryl. Due to the echoing acoustics of the room, it was impossible for Kastan to decipher.

Another pain coursed through his veins, this time from a bit further down. This time, Kastan managed to remain silent.

"Quick question: Did that hurt? Be honest."

"Yeah," Kastan said tiredly. To be frank, he felt like he was at a doctor's appointment.

The process continued. Excruciating pain, stupid question, and a quick "yes" on Kastan's part.

After what seemed like an innumerable number of minutes lying there, there was a lull. Kastan turned around and glanced at Tariga.

"Hey… you going to hit again?"

"I already did. Twice," he said in Ryl. This time, Kastan could actually understand him. "You suffered a rifle wound to the lower spine, somewhere around L24… The shot must have severed the cord, which explains why your upper body works fine while your lower body is nonreactive. You're probably wondering why I know this."

"It crossed my mind, several times," Kastan said boredly.

"I served as a field medic for the Rebellion a while back," Tariga said with a hint of pride. "We were soon overrun by the Empire, of course, and we were all taken prisoner. They wanted me to become a medic for them for a while now, but I've always refused. We later met at a middle ground; they send medical students and I teach them. I don't die, and the Empire gets their field medics. Seems logical to me."

Kastan grunted appreciatively. "Maybe when all of this blows over you can get yourself a job or something."

"Heh, thanks. Pazaak?"

!0*0!

Kastan hung, suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Darth Vader prowled around him, like an alpha tuk'ata surrounding a young wraid, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

"Where," he started, "are the Rebels?"

Kastan remained silent.

"Is that so?" Vader said, strolling around Kastan's chained body.

In a flash of red light, Vader ignited his lightsaber. He swung it in a wide arc, and made is stop just short of Kastan's neck.

"You wouldn't kill me," Kastan spat. "You need me alive for information."

"Who said anything about information? After all the trouble you have caused for the Galactic Empire, it's only right that you receive just retribution. All the Empire wants from you is your blood."

"If you think I'm willing to join the Empire, you're dafter than you appear. And," Kastan retorted, "you appear very, VERY daft."

The door swung open before Vader could react. A hooded figure strode inwards, laughing maniacally under his breath.

"Nice to see you, Hideous. Tell me, how have you been? Have you managed to get anything done without my meddling?"

Without speaking, a bolt of Sith Lightning zapped out of Emperor Palpatine's hand and directly into Kastan's core. His abdominal muscles seized up, but he made no sound.

"As my apprentice said, all we need from you is your blood. Not you, G5-81356. Why track down all the DNA when we've already found it?"

Kastan appeared stupefied. "'Track down all the DNA'? What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're not on Kamino, G5-81356. You're not at home."

"Kamino? But that's… the… cloning facility…" Kastan trailed off.

"Exactly. G5-81356, there's an actual reason we've wanted you alive. We want our investment back. You're our one and only Sith Clone constructed from the genetic material of the most powerful Sith and Jedi in history, created for the sole purpose of serving me and MY design."

"You will join my Master," Vader added.

"I'm not stupid enough to fall for a mind trick."

There was no way that Kastan Enderbeck, True Light Grandmaster, could possibly be a Sith Clone, of all things. It was unfathomable!

Except.

Except - as far as he knew, there were no references to his parents, anywhere.

Except - the doctors had said that a dependence on Alanine was statistically impossible. And the Empire seemed to know about his deficiency…

Except - if the Enderbecks were descendants of Revan, and Kastan wasn't biologically an Enderbeck, how could he share the DNA of Darth Revan?

Except - the Empire had hunted him down so vehemently it had to have been personal.

No. It couldn't be.

No.

"N… no…" Kastan said, utterly defeated.

"Your insubordination will cost you dearly."

Darth Sidious ignited both his lightsabers, and deftly sliced Kastan's leg clean off. G5-81356, of course, made no reaction, as his spinal cord had been severed.

Glaring at him murderously, Emperor Palpatine twisted his lightsabers and stabbed into Kastan's upper arm. That elicited the reaction that Palpatine was looking for, as G5-91356 screamed in agony. Blood spilled from the open wound and it showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

Seeing that his work was completed, Emperor Palpatine extinguished his lightsaber and without further ado, walked out of the room. He barked at someone to collect as much of the spilt blood as possible. Vader followed, red liquid smearing his boots as he marched straight through it.

The final string, holding Kastan's entire life upright and stable, snapped.

In the coming months, the Empire gassed Anoat, wiping the planet completely of all life.

The last domino, made of everything G5-81356 held dear, fell away into an inferno of failure, and dissolved into nothingness.

With what remained of his strength, Kastan looked up as GRG-892 strolled into the room with a vial in hand. G5-81356 would have said something, but what was the point? It would just mean more pain and suffering on his part.

Almost too gently, GRG-892 loosened the bonds holding G5-81356 to the ceiling, and laying him down on the floor. He was careful to position Kastan in a way that wouldn't stain him with his own blood.

"I'm sorry," George started.

No response.

"I didn't want to," he continued.

G5-81356 still made no attempt to say anything more.

"I'll make it up to you somehow."

"You don't have to," G5-81356 coughed.

"Yes, I do, Kastan."

"Who is Kastan? I'm just G5-81356. I'm a number, George."

"Welcome to my world. And you're not just a number, Kas. You're Kas. Kastan Enderbeck, Force-person extraordinaire. And I'm going to make it up to you. I'm not going to betray the Empire, but I'm going to make it up to you. I got you into this mess, and I think it's in our best interests to get you out."

"But the Empire-"

"The Empire doesn't care. They have the DNA they need to make more of… you…" George said solemnly, gesturing towards the vial of blood in his hand. "Besides, I'm a commander. I can pull some strings. Maybe a quick data leak here, an unlocked door there, and Phoenix Squadron will be able to pick you up in no time."

George looked at the copious amount of blood on the floor, and grimaced. "You ought to get yourself patched up. I'll get you to Tariga Lekrave or whatever his name is as quickly as possible. For now, just let the dreams take you to wherever they go."

The last thing G5-81356 - no, Kastan Enderbeck heard before blood loss and sleep took him was "I'll take any risk, if it means putting you back together one last time."

Well, that got sad.

Anyway, that's the last chapter of this. I might do a sequel later on in life, but don't expect that for a while. I might do an epilogue at some point, but not now. As of this time, I think I'll let the story sit just where it is.

Thank you for your time.