A/N: The last chapter is the longest! Enjoy!

The passage of time was simple to keep track of when one was planetside. Most habitable planets and moons had a daily cycle of sunrise and sunset...or planet-rise, and planet-set, as the case was on the verdant moons of Jovian planets.

When one traveled in space it was all but impossible to keep track of without a chronometer. Thus, most ships' schedules were set by the day and night cycle of a particular time. All Imperial vessels used Coruscant Standard time, which was a 24 hour cycle. The Rebels, to avoid confusion, followed the same pattern.

According to this schedule, it was 'morning', and breakfast was being served aboard all the ships in the fleet. The Rebellion didn't segregate the enlisted men and officers as the Empire did, and the two groups mingled freely with each other. It provided a closer sense of camaraderie.

In the Liberty's commissary it was, as always, very crowded. The din of mealtime conversation, clattering dishes, and occasional laughter provided a lively atmosphere in which to dine. Most enjoyed the setting and would seek out friends to eat and talk with.

Normally Luke would sit with the Rogues, but this morning he had gathered his meal hastily and then gone off by himself. He didn't much feel like talking. His mind was occupied with the matter of his father's surgery that afternoon.

The thought of Anakin being free of that mask was heartening and unnerving at the same time; heartening because it meant another part of Vader would be gone, unnerving due to the horrible injuries the man had sustained. According to Anakin, none of his skin had escaped intact. All of it was scar tissue right down to the inside of his mouth. It was an injury no man should have survived.

Luke told himself that he didn't care what his father looked like; nothing would change who he was. But in reality, he did care. He was almost afraid to find out. As a pilot Luke had seen plenty of terrible injuries. Burns were difficult to treat and even more difficult to heal with minimal scarring. Bacta helped, but it was expensive and the few tanks the Rebels had were reserved for the most critically injured. Third degree burns, even when treated promptly, always left mottled pink scars.

Anakin's burns had been worse than that. Many had gone beyond the subcutaneous layer and damaged muscle and even bone beyond repair. Palpatine had kept him awake during the operation to put him in the suit and given the burns only enough care to keep them from becoming infected. Otherwise they were left to heal on their own.

Luke couldn't begin to imagine the suffering his father had gone through. It was heartbreaking. But he wouldn't want me to feel sorry for him, thought Luke with sigh. I want to see him, but I don't want to hurt his feelings reacting to how he looks. I'll have to look past it. Either way, he's still my father.

So distracted was Luke that he didn't notice the two familiar forms of Corellian and Wookiee ambling over to his table and sitting down. "This spot taken?" asked Han, tray full of food.

Luke flinched and looked up at them. "Oh! No, go ahead." He returned his gaze to his plate.

Han set down his tray of food across from Luke and climbed under the table to sit at the long bench. Chewbacca sat next to his friend. Without preamble Han dug into his breakfast. After a time he glanced at Luke. "Not eatin' much, are 'ya?" he observed around a mouthful of fried root vegetables.

Luke shrugged. "Just not hungry, I guess."

Han swallowed his food and gave a quick laugh. "You? Not hungry? You feelin' OK?" He jokingly put his hand on Luke's forehead as if to feel for a fever. He pulled back with a chuckle. "Y'know, keep this up, and there ain't gonna be enough of you left to cast a shadow."

Luke tried smiling at Han's antics. "I'm fine, Han. Really. Just...not hungry." He set down his fork.

Han's jovial mood vanished. He frowned. "Whassa matter?"

The young man shrugged.

Han set down his own fork with a sigh. "Last couple weeks, you finally startin' to be yourself again. Now, you won't talk." He reached over to tap Luke's arm to make him look up. "Hey, c'mon. Y'know you can talk to me."

Luke offered a faint smile. Not about this, I can't. "Thanks, but you wouldn't understand."

That made Han pull back with an unhappy sigh. "What?" After a long silence, he pursed his lips. "You worried 'bout your old man?"

Luke lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "How did you...?"

"Kid, I hate to tell you this, but you pretty much wear your emotions on your sleeve. I've seen the way you look when you talk about him. Whether it makes sense or not, you care about him." Han shrugged, not understanding why.

"He's my father. I can't help it. Besides, he did save my life," reminded Luke.

"Yeah, I know." Han picked at the fried tubers. "Kinda hard to hate somebody who saved your hide." His mind wandered, going back to Lando. Or someone that saved the lives of your best friend and the woman you love. Han cut off a bite of spicy Corellian sausage and bit into it. After chewing and swallowing the meat, his gaze returned to Luke. "Look, buddy, I may not understand any of that Force mumbo-jumbo, but I do know you're not gonna do anybody any good if you don't eat. The operation's today?"

Luke nodded. "This afternoon."

Han nodded back. "'Kay. And Too-One-Be's doin' it, right?"

Again, Luke nodded. "Right."

Han shrugged, waving his fork for emphasis. "So, whaddya got to worry about? Somethin' tells me he's too stubborn to check out just yet."

A slight smile rose on Luke's face. It's not just his life that I'm worried about. But he decided to let Han think that. It would do no good to try and explain his true feelings about his father, especially in such a crowded room. No one else yet knew of Luke's parentage. "Thanks, Han. I needed that."

Half a lopsided grin returned to the smuggler's face. "Eat your breakfast, kid."

Chewbacca reached over to rumple Luke's hair and gave an encouraging grunt.

Luke gave a light chuckle before picking up his fork and beginning to eat.

The trio ate in silence for several minutes before Han lifted his head and looked around. "Hey, you seen Leia? Tried to get ahold of her this mornin', but she won't answer her comm, and she's usually the first one up."

Luke frowned, remembering the previous day's conversation and how upset she had been. Leia hadn't spoken to him since. "No. I know she's been tired lately."

Han paused while chewing the other bite of sausage and shook his head. "Yeah, more like exhausted. She's been stressed out about this Vader thing, too."

Luke nodded carefully. "I know. I almost feel guilty, as if it's my fault for bringing him back."

Han's fork paused halfway to his mouth and he frowned. "Wasn't your idea, was it?"

Luke grimaced. He had not wanted to leave his father behind, but no, it had not been his idea for Anakin to turn himself in. Slowly the man shook his head. "No."

Han shrugged. "Then it ain't your fault." He turned back to his food, pausing every so often to look around. Midway through his breakfast he sighed. "Wonder what's keepin' Leia? She's never been this late."

Luke discreetly sent his thoughts to check on her. While his senses could not detect the woman's mood or what she was doing, he could sense if she was ill or injured. "She's fine," he said, reassuring himself as well as Han.

Han shrugged and stared at his half-empty plate. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. "Hope so," he said after a pause.

"You really care about Leia, don't you?" said Luke thoughtfully.

"Huh?" Han's head snapped up in surprise. "What kinda thing is that to say? 'Course I care! I care about you and Chewie and Rogue Squadron, too. Heck, even the droids."

"Han, you know what I mean. You love her." Luke's smile was quiet and knowing. He had suspected as much since returning to the fleet. With as much as Han and Leia argued, one might think they couldn't stand each other, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

Han's expression was difficult to read. It was part embarrassment, part resignation, part admission, and part stubborn denial. He put down his fork, frowning at his friend. "Why? You gonna tell me to back off, you saw her first?"

Luke sighed and shook his head. While at one time he thought he might have been falling in love with Leia, their relationship was different, like one of very close friends. Besides, Leia had never really thought of Luke in that way. She saw him as someone to both look after and look up to. "No. I don't feel that way about her." He chuckled at the next expression on Han's face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to butt in. You two love each other."

Han looked around, half afraid someone had been listening in, before sighing lightly in relief. "Yeah. I knew that."

Chewbacca chuffed with laughter.

"Shut up, furball."

The operation took place exactly on schedule. At 14:45 CST, the prisoner known as Darth Vader was moved from his cell aboard the Liberty to the surgical wing of the Redemption. As always, he was under a full escort of six guards and the Medic, Lt. Sal. The Lt. supervised the preparation of the patient for surgery, though there wasn't much to do. He was also to keep track of the man's vital signs throughout the procedure.

As Anakin lay reclined on the surgical table, he once again found his mind wandering back to the nightmare of the Darth Vader suit. The droids, standing nearby in the darkness like gray skeletons with glowing red eyes...Palpatine, exuding evil with every breath, sneering in derision at his new apprentice...the smell of the cold steel and medications...burnt wiring...his scream of rage and grief when he heard the fate of his love-

Anakin shook his head. No, he thought. That was twenty three years ago. Leave it. He shuddered.

Too-One-Be materialized at his side. "Your heart rate has increased. Please calm yourself, sir. The anesthetic will be administered shortly."

Anakin nodded and struggled to control both breathing and heart rate. He directed his thoughts to pleasant memories instead. Padme's smile...his mother's gentle but firm nature...Qui-Gon's patient explanations of the Force...the friendly jesting with Obi-Wan...and finally, the look of gratitude on Luke's face upon being pulled to safety.

Each of these thoughts brought a pang of regret that so many of those people were gone...except Luke. And yet, since being brought to the Rebellion, Anakin had not seen his son even once. The temptation was there to feel slighted. Would it really be so bad to let me see him just once?

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose..." Yoda's final lesson returned as if in an echo, making Anakin sigh. Luke is safe. There's no need to worry about him. The broken man took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing with it all feelings of greed and unfairness. Yes, master.

"Very good, sir. Your heart rate has improved." Too-One-Be hovered near with the IV to administer the anesthetic. "Are you ready?"

I've been ready for this for years, thought Anakin as he nodded. Let's get this over with. He felt the sting of the needle as it was inserted into his bare arm. Gradually drowsiness took him.

Anakin's last thought was of wondering what Luke looked like without that red tinge from the mask.

Luke strode down the corridor with a feeling of elation. Anakin Skywalker was alive and well. The operation had been a success, Too-One-Be had said. Luke could hardly believe it...he was finally going to see his father...his real father, without the mask or heavy suit.

He wasn't sure why the Alliance had gone the extra step and had the rest of the suit removed. Part of it surely was that they did not have the facilities to keep it in repair, but Luke preferred to think it was at least partially due to mercy. Admiral Ackbar had, after all, said that if the attack on the second Death Star succeeded, the Rebellion would owe their lives to Anakin Skywalker. Mon Mothma felt the same. Either way, Luke was grateful.

He was also somewhat uneasy. That look at Anakin's left arm had been a glimpse of what was to come. According to Too-One-Be, his body was a mass of scar tissue. Luke tried to think past this and focus on the positive. How wonderful for his father to finally be free of Darth Vader! Finally Anakin could move on.

Too-One-Be came to a stop outside a closed door. He turned to Luke. "I must warn you once again, Commander Skywalker, that your father does not look like what most humans would define as normal. You may find his appearance rather disturbing."

Luke nodded, trying not to be impatient. "I understand."

"Very well. You may come in. He has not yet awakened from the anesthetic."

Eagerly Luke followed the droid into the recovery room. They turned a corner...and Luke stopped short.

His father lay sleeping in a bed, much changed. He was no longer clad in black but in a simple medical gown. A thin sheet covered him from mid-chest on down. A flexible tube about as thick as Luke's thumb was connected to Anakin's throat, bringing oxygen with a sound no more than a whisper.

As for Anakin himself, his appearance was indeed startling. His skin was pale with a mottled, ashen tone. Thick ropy scars contrasted sharply with strong muscles, while his head was completely bereft of hair save sparse eyelashes. A deep pink scar cut into the top of his scalp, stretching some four inches across his crown in a jagged line. There was little left of Anakin's ears to be seen. A mechanical arm extended out of the right sleeve, connected at the elbow, while the left sleeve lay half empty.

His face, oddly enough, looked the most normal other than the color. His age could only be guessed at, but the lines around his eyes told of someone at least forty or fifty.

Luke's heart ached. He wasn't sure how to feel. Conflicting emotions of shock, sympathy, and happiness at seeing his father swam about in his mind. His jaw hung slack for a moment. Then he shut it, closing his eyes and sighing. Oh, Father...

"Commander Skywalker, are you well?" Questioned the droid.

Luke shook off the heaviness in his heart and nodded. He took a tentative step toward the bed. "How is he?"

Too-One-Be gave the droid equivalent of a shrug. "He is doing quite well. He seems to be adapting perfectly to the tracheotomy. There are no signs of infection and his vitals are strong. Given the severity of his previous injuries, it is rather surprising."

Luke let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He's going to be all right. "Can I sit with him?"

"Certainly, Commander. He should come out of the anesthesia in approximately thirty minutes."

"Thank you." Luke walked over and settled into a chair next to the bed. He moistened his lips and watched his father sleep. "Father," he breathed, reaching for Anakin's right hand.

Too-One-Be turned around. "I am afraid he cannot hear you, sir. His ears are not functioning. The heat which gave him his burns damaged both eardrums beyond repair."

Another jolt of shock made Luke frown. "He's deaf? But...how did he...?"

"His mask picked up sound waves and translated them into sound via a sensor behind each ear. In time a replacement may be installed, but for the time being, alternate modes of communication will have to be used," explained the droid.

Luke's eyes stung. He'd never known how badly his father had been injured and how many functions the suit and helmet had taken over. He's alive, he reminded himself. He's going to be all right. The young Jedi nodded slowly. "All right. How long can I stay?"

The droid tilted his head to one side. "I was informed that you will be allowed to remain long enough to communicate with him when he awakens."

"Thank you...for everything."

"I am merely following my programming, sir, but you are most welcome."

The first thing Anakin felt as he began lazily drifting back toward consciousness was a strange sense of weightlessness. A tentative opening of his eyes brought in a brilliant white light, making him shut them. He wondered breifly if he was dead, and this was the Netherworld of the Force.

But no, that was foolish. The Netherworld had no sensations, and Anakin most definitely felt something. He seemed to drift back down until he was aware of a bed beneath him, warm and soft. The sense of touch returned almost all at once, and the next thing Anakin felt was pain...a pinprick in his left arm, a dull ache in his throat. It was not strong, but somehow hazy and far away, as everything else seemed to be. Memory returned next.

Of course. He'd had an operation...a tracheotomy to function in place of the old breath mask. Apparently it had been a success. It was a strange sensation to breathe through one's throat instead of moving air past the nose and mouth, but Anakin told himself to be grateful. He was grateful, of course. He would be certain to tell the Alliance so when he had the chance. Now, if only that suit-

Anakin froze, realizing for the first time he felt cloth against his skin...real cloth, not an insulated blend of leather, wire, and padding. Experimentally he shifted his weight. Sure enough, that was cloth he felt, of clothing and a blanket. His tearless eyes ached. It's gone...all of it. The suit is gone! Joy unknown for two decades lifted Anakin's heart. He wanted to laugh, shout, or cry. As all of those were impossible, he settled for smiling. I must tell Luke of this! Eagerly Anakin reached for his son's presence...and stopped short with surprise. He's here? Dare I even hope? Unsure of his sense, Anakin slowly blinked his eyes open again. He squinted against the light and looked around.

Someone to his right stirred and spoke, sound a mere buzz in his left ear. There was only one person it could be. Like a wheel on a rusty axle, Anakin turned his head to look. His vision was blurry, but the blonde hair, slim form, and presence in the Force made it obvious. Anakin's heart soared. Luke, my son. At last!

Luke immediately straightened his spine. His eyes met his father's, then filled with tears. For the first time, he could look his father in the eye. They were blue, like his. A watery-eyed smile rose on his face. "Father..."

Anakin sighed, wishing he could hear Luke's voice. At least he could read Luke's lips. He moistened his own and tried to speak. It came out as a garbled noise. Come on, you can do this...Anakin took a deep breath and tried again. "Luke..." It was little more than a whisper, but at least he was speaking.

Luke's tears overflowed his cheeks and he turned away, weeping. How was it possible for one's heart to be broken and joyful at the same time?

Anakin's smile faded. He reached for Luke's shoulder. "Do not weep for me, son. You've given me a greater gift than I can ever repay."

Luke tried to smile and wipe his eyes, but the tears kept coming.

He can't stand tp look at me. Anakin let his hand drop. "I understand. Not very pleasant to look at, am I? You do not have to look if you wish."

Quickly Luke turned back to his father. "No. I want to see you...the real you. It doesn't matter what you look like...besides, that's not what I see."

Anakin smiled sadly. "What do you see then, but a broken, scarred shell of an old man?"

Luke frowned and shook his head. He doesn't understand. The young man took Anakin's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "What I see is my father."

Anakin's sad smile returned. How did my son grow to be so kind? "Thank you."

Luke let his father go. "How are you feeling?"

Anakin's face was the picture of contentment. "Whole. Thank you, Luke. I do not know how you managed to convince the others to remove the suit."

Luke shrugged. "Don't thank me, Father. That was the Alliance."

"Then I will thank them...as soon as I have the chance." Anakin blinked, fatigue returning. He was so tired...

Luke noticed and winced when he sensed his father in pain. "Maybe I should go. You need rest."

Anakin gave Luke a plaintive look. "So soon?"

Luke noticed the gaurd coming to the door and grimaced. "They won't let me stay very long yet."

Let him go. Anakin nodded. "It was good to finally see you, Luke...with my own eyes."

Luke rose reluctantly from his chair. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Anakin's throat ached. The one thing he had never done was hold his child in his arms. Now his child was a grown man. Would Luke even want to embrace such an ugly creature? Tentatively he inched up on his elbow and opened his arm.

Luke saw the fear and hesitation in his father's eyes and wasted no time going back to him. Carefully, not wanting to hurt him, he stepped into his father's embrace.

Anakin now felt complete. He might have been physically handicapped, but emotionally he was whole, for the first time in thirty years. He had a family again. His eyes ached, begging for tears to soothe them. "I love you, son." He felt Luke start to cry again. He spoke, but Anakin couldn't hear what he said.

Too soon Luke stepped back. His cheeks were wet, but he was smiling. "I'll see you soon," he promised as the guard ushered him out.

Anakin was too tired to respond with more than a smile and a wave farewell.

It was not until it fell to the sheet on his lap that Anakin noticed the single tear that had somehow emerged from his eye. With sigh of contentment, he lay back against the pillows.

Anakin Skywalker, once an agent of evil, had truly been reborn. Now it was time to make atonement. He could not undo anything Darth Vader had done, but he could make an effort to spread as much goodness to the galaxy as possible, starting with his son and his friends.

Anakin closed his eyes. It was time to begin his new life.