CHAPTER 25
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He knew.
Vader stared at his son in shock for a long moment. He was supposed to be the one to tell Luke about his heritage. He was the one who was supposed to explain everything to him.
Somehow, even from beyond the grave, Kenobi had stolen that privilege away from him as well. Kenobi and whoever else had trained Luke in the ways of the Force.
His son stared back at him with harsh, pained eyes; eyes that were so familiar. His breathing was hard and ragged. His physical agony shone through the Force, yet he betrayed none of it on his face.
Vader was proud of Luke…and as that thought went through his mind, he was almost disgusted with himself.
But nothing else mattered now. Vader had to convince Luke to join him. Mara Jade had been correct—his son would not be forcibly converted to the Dark Side. This was a decision that Luke needed to make for himself, with every possible piece of information placed in front of him.
"So," Vader said in slow, even tones, "you know the truth."
His son nodded defiantly. "Did you believe that the truth would stay hidden from me forever, Father?"
"You do not understand. Come with me and I will explain everything."
"You know I won't do that. I'd rather die."
"Even at the expense of Mara Jade's life?"
Luke's eyes flashed. "You would do this to your own son?"
"You can save her, Luke. All you need to do is join me!"
"I'll never join you!"
He just didn't understand! Vader had to make him understand! Surely he knew what the Emperor would do to Jade when she was back in his clutches. Surely Luke understood that this war needed to come to an end. It could all be so easy—Luke just had to accept it, as Anakin had.
Vader reached out his hand, imploring his son to listen to reason. "Luke, we can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this! It is your destiny. Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son!"
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His father's hand reached out for his, so close yet so far away. It would be so easy to accept his offer, to end the incredible agony coursing through his mind and body, to save Mara.
But he couldn't. It went against everything he had learned as a Jedi, everything he believed as a man. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, Master Yoda had instructed him.
His father had once believed that he could outsmart the Emperor; that he could overthrow him once he got what he wanted. But instead he destroyed everything he ever held dear. Anakin Skywalker had died and Vader had lived the following twenty years alone, a servant of a man who twisted all the goodness out of his heart until all that was left was blackness.
Even still, the man in front of him was his father…the man Luke had idolized his entire life…and a part of him could not deny that he wanted nothing more than to take his father's hand and let him fix everything.
And perhaps there was still good in him. Luke could feel it, buried deep down. Vader would not kill him.
But if he joined his father, no matter what the reason, he would destroy everything he'd ever fought for. No, he would not make the same mistakes as Anakin Skywalker. Not even for Mara.
Especially not for Mara.
Sensing Luke's hesitation, his father reached out even farther, his gloved hand holding every promise in the galaxy. "Join me! It is the only way!"
But it wasn't.
Luke remembered Leia's question from several years ago: If you had to sacrifice yourself for the good of the galaxy, would you? He hadn't hesitated to say yes.
And mere days ago, during a discussion about attachment and the Jedi, Master Yoda had asked: But if the will of the Force it is to let go of a loved one, able to let that happen, would you be? The answer to that question had not come so easily. He had answered as a true Jedi—that he would listen to the Force.
And now, the Force sang to him in a melody so clear he could focus on nothing else.
He glanced down at the cavernous depths of the air shaft, and had his answer.
He let go of the gantry…and fell.
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There was a spark of resigned acceptance in his son's blue eyes, a wistful smile full of regret. Vader's eyes widened beneath his mask and he opened his mouth to scream out…
But his son was already gone, falling into the depths of Cloud City.
No!
Vader's hands clenched around the gantry as all his hope fell away with his son. This couldn't be happening. Luke was his chance to rid the galaxy of Palpatine. Luke was his chance to make everything right. And now he was de—
No; Vader could feel it, a small ray of light pulsing from below the city. His son was alive! The fall had not killed him. He felt foolish now. Of course it hadn't. His son was a Jedi, and other Jedi had survived falls far greater.
With renewed purpose, Vader strode back into the city, comlink already removed from his belt. "Bring my shuttle."
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Luke expected oblivion but instead felt himself sliding against a smooth surface. He opened his eyes and realized that he'd been sucked into one of the gas ports. Instinct took over and he reached out his lone hand to stop his momentum, finding it difficult to maintain a grip on the surface. He slowed eventually but then the trapdoor below him fell open and he found himself sliding along another tube. This time he could not stop himself and tumbled out of the gas port, crashing against a weathervane and somehow managing to grab hold at the last moment.
Every centimeter of his body screamed out in pain, but adrenaline coursed through his body and he pulled himself up with his one good arm, reaching up to the trapdoor to climb his way back inside. But the door hissed shut before he could reach it and a gust of wind nearly blew Luke over, leaving him hanging upside down from the weathervane.
Now, with nothing else to do but ponder his next action, he began to worry.
He had accepted death as the only viable option, but had survived. Was it the Will of the Force for him to live on? He could only assume so, as the fall would have killed a normal person. But what was he to do now? Surely Vader would come for him, and then what? Would Luke then let go of the weathervane and plummet into the thick atmosphere below?
For not the first time in his life he felt dumbfounded, with absolutely no idea what to do. All he knew was that he wished desperately that he could hold Mara in his arms one more time. He wished he could tell Leia the truth.
Leia!
The idea flickered to life, and Luke suddenly knew exactly what to do.
He stretched out into the Force, searching for the familiar presence…and called out to his sister.
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The Millennium Falcon twisted gracefully as Han avoided laser fire from pursuing TIE fighters. Han and Chewbacca were shouting at each other but Leia was not worried, as she knew that was how they worked under pressure. Lando was in the gunnery turret, doing his best to stave off the TIEs. The three droids were safely in the main hold, locked out of the cockpit.
Leia'd been fighting to return to Cloud City and help Luke and Mara ever since they lifted off from the landing platform. But Han had refused, saying that he'd promised to get Leia to safety and that Luke knew what he was doing.
"Leia, you got the coordinates?"
She'd taken on navigator duties to allow Han and Chewie to concentrate on avoiding the TIE fighters. "Yes."
He turned round at her timid and angry voice. "We're doing the right thing, Princess." But for the first time, he looked nearly as pained as she did.
"We can't just leave him there, Han."
"We have no other choice." With a grimace, he turned his attention back to flying.
And there it was again, that odd feeling that had plagued her every so often since Alderaan. Something was at the very edge of her mind, whispering, but she couldn't understand what it was saying. She'd never been able to comprehend this instinct of hers.
Except for where Luke was concerned…
Leia shot up in her chair. She felt it now, she was absolutely certain. It was as clear as if he'd been speaking directly into her ear. "Luke," she whispered, suddenly knowing exactly where he was and that he needed their help to survive. She jumped up and shook Han's shoulder, imploring him to listen to her. "Han, we've got to go back!"
Han groaned, not really paying attention. "Listen, sweetheart, we already discussed this—"
"I know where he is! Trust me!"
He glanced sharply at her. "Trust you? Isn't that my line?"
"Han, I'm serious! I know where Luke is. He needs our help!"
"Leia, we can't—"
"Please, Han!"
He sighed. "Okay. Tell me where he is."
She shoved him over and practically sat in his lap, trying to hold on to that tenuous connection with Luke, directing Han where he needed to go. After a few moments she pointed at a spot underneath the city. "There!"
"There? Are you sure?"
"I'm certain. Move closer!"
Han shook his head, toggling the comm. "Lando, is there anything under the city?"
"Under it? Nah, just a bunch of weathervanes. That area's all industrial, anyways. Why?"
"Listen, we're gonna need you to get down here."
"Sure."
Han cut off the comm and muttered, "Kid, what did you get yourself into this time?"
Leia pointed to one of the weathervanes. "He's there!"
"I see him. Chewie, take her in nice and easy, huh?" The Wookiee roared affirmatively just as Lando entered the cockpit.
"What's going on?" Han pointed out the viewport and Lando's eyes widened. "Is that your friend?"
"Yeah."
"How the hell did he get down there?"
"I don't know. Go open the top hatch, will ya? We're gonna get under him."
"I'm going to help." Leia bounced from her seat before Han could restrain her.
She chewed her fingernails while waiting for Lando to fetch Luke from the top hatch. She could see the bright sky as it opened and prayed that Luke was okay. We're coming, Luke, she tried to reassure him, wondering if he could hear her thoughts just as she could hear his. What did that mean?
Then he was there, cradled around Lando's body and she couldn't help herself. She launched herself at him, clutching him in a fervent embrace, tears falling on his torn jacket. "Oh, Luke."
"Hi Leia," he whispered back, voice hoarse.
She nodded to Lando, already heading toward the medibunk. Luke could barely walk and she couldn't miss that he was missing his right hand. She bit her lip, forcing herself not to gasp in horror.
She laid him down on the medibunk, hooking him up to fluids and painkillers and connecting a tourniquet to his wrist. She had only a working knowledge of field medicine and no clue how to treat his more serious injuries. For now she could only make sure that he was as comfortable as possible.
When she'd done all she could she sank back on her heels and just looked at the man in front of her. Other than the loss of his hand, he had several bruises and contusions. His hair was matted and his breathing was short and shallow.
In other words, he looked like hell.
She reached out and grasped his hand, kissing it gently. He opened his eyes at her touch and tried to reach out for her too, only to find that his other hand was gone. There was a pained look in his eyes at the realization.
She didn't want to make him hurt any more, but she couldn't hold back her question. "Do you know where Mara is?" He didn't respond, merely continued to look at the tourniquet where his right hand should be. "Luke? If you know where she is we can go help her."
He shook his head sadly. "She was already gone."
"I…I'm sorry." She didn't know what else to say. She squeezed his hand. "We'll find her, Luke. Don't worry."
He ran his hand down her cheek and smiled. "Never thought I'd see you again…have to tell you…"
She leaned forward to hear his whispered words but the painkillers took hold, his head collapsing against the bunk. She watched him for a moment, then ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Sleep well. I love you." She could sense him so clearly, and the words felt so natural to say…
Something clicked in her mind, that instinct that had been growing ever since Alderaan—ever since she'd met Luke, who could use the Force—and things finally started to make sense.
Mouth opening in wonderment, she stared at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.
Weapons fire brought her out of her reverie and she leaned over to kiss Luke's forehead. "I'll be back," she whispered. She made her way into the cockpit, where Han and Chewie were shouting anxiously. She didn't have to ask what the problem was. It was right there in front of her.
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Back on his flagship, Darth Vader strode down the command walkway toward Admiral Piett, who was standing at attention. "Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the Millennium Falcon?" he asked without preamble.
"Yes, my lord. They should be in range of our tractor beam in moments."
"Good. Prepare a boarding party, and set your weapons for stun." Vader continued on to the viewport to watch the elusive freighter escape the fire of the pursuing TIEs. Vader did not bother to call off the fighters even though he was certain his son was on that ship. The pilot, Solo, was good and wouldn't fall prey to the pursuing TIEs.
As he watched his son fall through the depths of Cloud City, Vader had felt a desperation like he'd never felt before. His son could not die, not when there was so much left to do! He remembered that horrible day on Mustafar, and his wife's rejection of his offer to rule the galaxy together. Her refusal had tore at his soul and ignited a rage he hadn't known existed.
He'd rejected her offer as well; her plea to come away with her and raise their child together, but he'd had his own desires.
Vader shook his head. There was still time left…he did not want it to come to this, but he'd do whatever was necessary to bring his son into the Empire. But there was one last chance…
Watching the tiny outline of the Millennium Falcon, Vader reached out for his son. The bond between them was sparking now and it was impossible to resist. Luke…
His son's reaction was immediate and hopeful. Vader heard the whispered Father and it brought joy to his soul that he hadn't known was possible. All he wanted was for his son to claim his destiny. What could possibly be wrong with that?
Luke, come with me.
His son reached back to him with his burgeoning strength in the Force… then he was gone.
Vader's eyes narrowed behind his helmet. They would do this the hard way, then, and his son would learn his lesson.
Just as Anakin had.
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Threepio often stated that he was made to suffer, but rarely did he believe it as much as at the current moment, standing in the main hold of the Millennium Falcon with a screaming human, a howling Wookiee, and two bickering droids fretting about. He did not understand how he always came to be in such precarious situations and wondered what exactly he'd done to offend the Maker so.
The well-dressed Lando Calrissian had moved from the gunnery turret to the cockpit and Master Luke had gone there as well. In the meanwhile, the aforementioned human and Wookiee were trying to fix the mysteriously broken hyperdrive.
Artoo bumped against him, tweetling with insistence. Threepio gave him his best approximation of a glare. "I don't know where you get these delusions, Artoo Detoo! Captain Solo and Chewbacca are perfectly capable of fixing the hyperdrive themselves!"
I KNOW HOW TO FIX IT. Artoo rolled off and hooked himself up to a computer terminals.
"What are you talking about? Where in the worlds did you learn how to fix a freighter's hyperdrive?"
MY FORMER MASTER TAUGHT ME.
There was another indignant tweet and Threepio turned to see Red rolling off to the other terminal. MY MISTRESS ALSO INSTRUCTED ME ON SUCH MATTERS. I CAN HELP, TOO.
"Oh, this is madness!" Threepio moaned. "We have two perfectly capable mechanics working on the hyperdrive and you two are having delusions of grandeur!"
The droids did not respond. Threepio began to get very annoyed. "Listen to me, you overweight globs of grease, Captain Solo does not like droids tinkering with his ship! Unplug yourselves at once—oh!" His last word was punctuated with a surprised yelp as he crashed into the bulkhead. Captain Solo and Chewbacca also fell down but did not seem to be angry. Instead they began cheering in a very curious manner.
"Artoo! Red!" Threepio exclaimed, realizing what had happened. "You did it! You fixed the hyperdrive! See, you two can work together after all!"
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Luke was relieved when the Falcon jumped to hyperspace but felt no joy. He was certain he'd made the right decision, but it didn't matter. It felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest.
Rising from his seat, he exited the cockpit and walked to the medibunk before Leia could say anything to him. He needed to be alone. She didn't follow.
Once in the bunk he closed his eyes, the reality of the situation catching up to him. How long had it been since he'd landed on Cloud City? An hour? Not even? In that short amount of time, his entire world had spiraled out of control.
He would never be able to understand how the right decision could feel so horrible. Would Mara ever be able to forgive him for leaving her? Would he be able to forgive himself?
His eyes opened when something jolted against the medibunk. Red was there, his dome twirling back and forth. He tweeted a question.
Luke sighed, not needing a translation. "I'm sorry." He patted the astromech's dome. "I wasn't able to save her."
Red chirped mournfully. Luke closed his eyes again and allowed the tears to flow.