Twin Sunrise

by chi-chi-chimera

Exploring an ancient Jedi Temple on Vrogas Vas, Luke runs into more trouble than he bargained for. Meanwhile Aphra attempts secure the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, and the Inquisitor who was once Ezra Bridger has a mission of his own. Their paths will lead deep inside the Temple, to the revelation of secrets decades old, made only more complicated when Darth Vader arrives.

2. Chapter 2

0 ABY - YT-1300 Millenium Falcon, docked at Alliance operating base Silent Shadow, Outer Rim

Now that the business with Sana was finally over and done with, Leia was looking forwards to getting back to work. There always seemed to be more to do when it came to the Rebellion, particularly in the wake of the destruction of the Death Star and the new hope it had given to their cause. Resources, ships, people; they were all flocking to their cause, and many planets she might never have suspected of helping them now harboured whispers of support - only whispers, but those would grow.

And it was easiest to throw herself into work. Much easier than dwelling on loss, on pain. Her family, her world… She couldn't think about it. If she started to, then she wouldn't be able to stop, and then what would happen to everyone who was depending on her? She had to be strong enough, and if that meant shutting down the past and focusing on the now, then she would do it.

Besides, this was the Rebel Alliance. Everyone here had lost something to the Empire. Her loss might be greater than most, but it was one shared by every citizen of Alderaan remaining in the galaxy.

The Silent Shadow had been the nearest base she knew once they had dropped off Sana. It was an old scientific research station, long abandoned prior to the Rebellion repurposing it, and had last seen use during the Clone Wars. It was not in the best of shape, but the long-range listening equipment was still functional, and was proving useful to them in intercepting Imperial transmissions, even if cracking their codes was rather more of a challenge. That same equipment also served to co-ordinate and pass on signals from a number of Rebel bases in this sector and even further afield, rerouting them through gaps in the holonet that would prevent any trace of their original location from being identifiable. At the moment, Leia was waiting to hear back from Mon Mothma with the main fleet. She was unsure as yet what orders they might have for her. Whatever it turned out to be, she hoped she could rely on Solo to take her where she was needed - at least until he met up again with his partner Chewbacca. He continued to insist that he was only staying with the Alliance until the end of the next mission - and then the next mission, and then the next. His reluctance wasn't fooling anyone, but he was still… unpredictable.

Leia's personal comm bleeped an alert. There was a connection waiting for her on-station. She rose from where she had been sitting thinking - not brooding, she told herself, thinking - and headed for the communications hub. When she got there, a brief word with the base commander brought her some much needed privacy, and she accepted the link. Mon Mothma's face flickered into being from the holoprojector.

"Princess Organa," Mon said. "I hope you are well."

"As well as could be expected," Leia replied. "I will feel better as soon as I can get back to doing what's really important."

"As to that, something has come to light which could use your skills and the skills of Captain Solo. We have received some intelligence that could be of extreme importance, but the source is… questionable at best."

"Questionable how?" Leia asked.

"We are almost certain that it was passed on to us by an Imperial Agent."

"Then why are we even having this conversation? Whatever it is is clearly a trap."

"We would have thought the same," Mon explained, "except that we believe this information was given to us as part of infighting amongst the Imperial ranks - that the Rebellion is expected to act on it as a tool of one party against another. And the party we are being set against is none other than Darth Vader."

A sharp stab of fierce rage shot through her. Vader. That monster. After what he had done to her, after what he had allowed to happen to all those innocent people on Alderaan… if there was any chance that the Alliance might be able to eliminate him then they should take it, the risk be damned.

"Tell me more."

"Our Imperial source has told us that Vader will shortly be travelling - travelling alone, I might add - to a remote world called Vrogas Vas…"

"Wait," Leia said, alarmed. "Vrogas Vas is where Luke was heading next!"

"Then we have all the more reason to make sure this information is correct," Mon replied. "I have discussed the matter with Admiral Ackbar and General Dodonna, and with the current state of the fleet we cannot spare a strike force for the amount of time we would need in order to lay a trap in the system. However, we can have that strike force ready to jump to Vrogas Vas at a few hours notice. All we need is one ship to verify this intelligence, and give the signal to our chosen battle group at the most opportune moment. I believe it only right that this ship should be the Millenium Falcon."

"I agree," Leia said. If this was true… then they would have Vader. There would be no escape. He would finally face justice for all his crimes… including his crimes against Alderaan. And as the last remnant of Alderaan's royal house, she would be more than happy to be his judge, jury and - Force willing - his executioner.

2 BBY - Boz Pity, Halla Sector, Mid Rim

After months spent tracking the Ghost, Ezra had finally caught up with them on the world of Boz Pity, once the site of a major battle of the Clone Wars and with the mouldering ruins of a Separatist Base left on the surface to draw the Rebellion's interest. Even with Fulcrum long gone - perhaps dead, perhaps not - and Kanan's cowardice preventing him from committing to any kind of cause, the crew of the Ghost remained on the peripheries of the movement, coming and going as the name of the ship implied, doing odd jobs and making a nuisance of themselves. Just not enough of a nuisance for the ISB to commit any serious resources to hunting them down. Not when there was a soon-to-be-Inquisitor to do it for them.

In his quarters on the Bayonet-class cruiser Starfall, Ezra gradually came out of his meditation. Perhaps because Kanan simply did not know how to sever it, their training bond had remained intact, and it was this that had allowed Ezra to track him down. It wasn't exactly reliable or accurate, and often he had arrived at a planet days too late, but this time he was sure. Kanan was here, and when Ezra killed him, he would finally be worthy to be an Inquisitor.

The thought was… uncomfortable, but he pushed the feeling down. He knew why it had to be done. If even the smallest trace of the Jedi philosophy survived… Not that it was necessarily a sure thing that Kanan would have to die. There was always a choice. He could come with Ezra back to Mustafar and that would be enough. Except that Ezra knew Kanan. He knew he would never agree. He hadn't the last time, although the Phantom had come before there had really been time to try to convince him. For all that he refused to stand up for anything real, when it came down to it, Kanan could really be stubborn when he wanted to be.

That left Ezra only one option. An option that he was sure he was capable of. The Inquisitorius had trained him well.

In the internecine bureaucracy of the Empire, the Inquisitorius was technically a branch of the Imperial Security Bureau, and drew transport and support craft from their fleets. The Starfall was part of Atravis sector group, based out of Mustafar, and its Captain was not entirely happy at being seconded to this admittedly protracted search by an Inquisitorial Apprentice. But the order had come from further up the chain of command than Ezra himself. Kanan's death was personal, and personal mattered to the Sith.

Rising, Ezra left his quarters and headed for the bridge. Starfall had already begun long-range scanning of Boz Pity, and would have launched probe droids the moment they emerged from hyperspace. Once the Ghost or some sign of its crew was detected, Ezra would take a TIE down to the surface after them while the ship remained in planetary orbit.

Captain Siln was waiting for him. As an Imperial officer, of course he wouldn't do anything as undignified as show emotion, but despite that his irritation was loud in the Force. "Apprentice," he said, "I hope this time you actually have something to show for your efforts."

"Have the probe droids found anything yet?"

"We have picked up traces of drive emissions near the wreckage of the Intervention," Siln admitted.

"Then I'll leave at once," Ezra said. "Soon this will be over with and we can return to Mustafar."

What remained of the Venator-class Star Destroyer Intervention was quite substantial for all that the superstructure of the ship had broken apart into several pieces upon impact. It was clearly visible from the air, dwarfing even the surrounding graveyard mounds of the long-extinct Gargantelle. Native flora had begun to overtake it, but it was sure to still be a valuable source of salvage of all kinds, which explained why the Ghost was here, rather than at the Separatist base as Ezra had expected. As he brought the TIE down towards a likely landing site, he reached out to the Dark Side, drawing on memories of Mustafar to inspire the anger he needed. Yes, the training bond was showing him that this was where he had to be. Kanan was here, and close.

Many beings had died when the Intervention crashed, and death always made the Dark Side stronger. He could feel it swirling around him, guiding him onwards, snapping at his heels in a way that could perhaps be called playful if only malevolent wasn't the better word. It was dark inside the deserted corridors of the Venator, the power long dead, but Ezra's helmet came equipped with low-light visuals. He made his way silently through the ship. He hoped they didn't know he was coming, but he wasn't going to depend on it. Making assumptions was a good way to get killed, and Mustafar had done wonders for his survival skills.

Then he came upon a portion of the Venator where the emergency lighting system had been activated, and there was a faint buzzing in the walls which meant that someone had restored the back-up power to this section. The Force was tugging at him now, insistent. Kanan was nearby. Ezra could feel his presence, so familiar. His thoughts flew back to all those months on board the Ghost. Even Zeb seemed less annoying in his memories. It had been so hard to stop missing them, but he could never go back to that life. He had to move on. That was the only way. Always move forwards.

If he could just separate Kanan from the rest… He didn't want to fight any of the others. At least the Inquisitorius had allowed him to keep the design of his original lightsaber. Lightsabers were weapons designed to kill and maim, and made it almost impossible to subdue an opponent without also removing a limb, whereas the integrated blaster had a stun setting. Much more versatile, and his instructors had agreed. He wasn't the only agent out there who had this design now, although he had learned to use the dual rotating blades as well.

There was a noise from up ahead. Looking around for somewhere to hide, Ezra's gaze fell on a grate overhead. The ductwork. He was bigger than he used to be, but he should still fit. And he felt comfortable in air ducts. All Force-sensitive younglings did - it was something about enclosed spaces that seemed to appeal, irrespective of species or affiliation. With a wave of his hand he tore the grate away and leapt upwards, and just in time. From his hiding-place, he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the corridor, and the soft whirr of droid wheels.

"I've never seen Kanan this bad before," a deep, rough voice said. Even without the Force he would have recognised it. Zeb. And the voice that replied had to be Sabine.

"Yeah, well I feel pretty terrible too," she said. "But neither he or Hera could have known what was going to happen. That the Empire would turn him into… this."

A loud angry burble answered here. Chopper.

Zeb huffed. "I hate it. We might have had our differences sometimes, but I liked the kid. And now he's either going to kill us all, or we're going to have to kill him."

"It should be me or you. Not Kanan. This weighs heavy enough on him as it is, I don't think…"

"Yeah. I don't think he could do it. If we get a chance…"

"Then we take our shot."

Chopper's angry hiss could only be agreement.

And then they had passed out of earshot once again. So they did know he was coming. But they didn't know he was only here for Kanan. That hurt. Did they really think so little of him? The Inquisitorius had shown him so much, made him realise that the harsh methods of the Empire were only reactions to chaos in the galaxy, and that if he wanted to make things better for people everywhere then he could do more good working inside the system than against it. Without Kanan, the others would be much less of a threat, and so the Empire would be able to relax its iron fist in this part of space. Besides, they were still his friends, his family, and that still meant something.

He still needed to find Kanan. Moving cautiously so the old, worn metal didn't creak or groan under him, Ezra moved through the ductwork, following the pull of the Force. It led him to a hatch looking down on a room that must have been the Infirmary. The once shining-white walls had faded with time, and the monitoring screens showed only dust and error messages, but judging from the heap of boxes piled up on a cargo floater in the centre of the room, there had been plenty of supplies left behind after the crash. Although it was amazing they could find anything in amongst the wreckage – it looked like everything that wasn't screwed down had rattled around in here at the moment of impact, cratering walls and leaving piles of tangled metal everywhere.

And there was Kanan. Kanan and Hera, to be precise, searching through the cupboards and the mess for anything useful to add to what they had already taken. They were talking, and if he strained, Ezra could just about make out their words.

"We're almost done," Hera was saying. "Then we can get out of here before our friend shows up."

Kanan put down the box he was holding. Ezra couldn't see his face from where he was, but his former teacher's shoulders were slumped. He looked worn, weary. Thinner than last time he had seen him. "Please don't talk about him that way Hera."

"Have you forgotten how many times he's tried to kill us?" Hera replied angrily, whirling on Kanan, her lekku twitching, although Ezra thought she was giving him a little too much credit. Mostly he tried to chase them; he rarely got close enough to try to kill anyone. "He betrayed us a long time ago. You need to stop thinking of him as the boy you knew, as your Padawan! That person died on Mustafar."

"And whose fault is that?" Kanan said quietly.

"Not yours." Hera said. "It's mine if we're going to blame anyone on this crew. I was the one who made the decision to leave on Lothal. You were half-dead at the time. But the only ones I'm going to blame are the Empire."

"If I had been better..."

This had the sound of an old argument, at least by the way Hera spoke. In some way Ezra was glad that Kanan felt guilt over what had happened that day, even though he himself didn't hold anyone responsible for leaving him. A Jedi might have called it the will of the Force, but a Sith knew better. It had been the will of Darth Vader, for a true Sith Lord told the Force how the world should be and it obeyed. Not that Ezra himself was anywhere near that strong yet, and it would take a lot of training before he could even think about even seeing the future, let alone changing it. But some part of him wanted to know that Kanan... missed him. Wanted that evidence that he had cared about him.

He had heard enough. If he let them go on any longer they might decide to leave, and at the moment he was between them and the door. Kicking the metal grate aside he leapt out of the air-duct and landed in a crouch on the floor of the Infirmary, igniting his lightsaber in the same moment. The snap and hiss of the crimson blade was loud in the sudden, shocked silence.

"Apparently you're so weak in the Force you can't even tell when I'm right above your head," he told Kanan conversationally. "You'll find it a bit harder to escape this time."

"Ezra." Kanan's face had drained of all colour. He hadn't even reached for his lightsaber yet. This would be the perfect time to attack, but it... but it wouldn't be satisfying. Kanan deserved at least for this to be a fair fight.

"Look, we can go over the whole argument one more time," Ezra said, giving his lightsaber a little twirl in his hand, mostly just to make things less awkward. "All you have to do is come with me. Abandon the Jedi, learn the ways of the Sith, use the Force the way it was meant to be used!" Only a cold furious gaze met his own. Ezra shrugged, shifting his weight. "Or we can skip all that and get to the part where we fight to the death. How about it?"

"That sounds like a good idea to me," Hera growled, and went for her blaster.

Ezra deflected the shots, drawing his concentration away from Kanan to make sure that they went into the wall rather than into Hera. The last time it had just been him and Kanan, before the Phantom came swooping in to the rescue. "I'm only here for him," he shouted. "Just get out of my way and you, Sabine and Zeb can all leave safely, I promise."

"Like we're going to believe that!" Hera replied, taking cover behind what remained of one of the beds, pulling Kanan with her. Had he been this stunned and useless last time? Maybe. They'd been pretty far apart on the gantries, and then the factory had started busily exploding all around them, so it had been hard to tell.

"Kanan, tell her I'm telling the truth!"

"I can't say I know anything about you any more Ezra," Kanan replied, finally finding his voice.

Ezra made a noise of pure frustration. "Then come out and fight! If you think I'm here to kill all of you, then you should be trying to kill me first!"

"Aren't you going to finish persuading him to join you first, Inquisitor?" Hera snarled. "That how your kind deals with Force-users. Promising their loved ones will be safe if all they do is betray everything they've ever known and cared about! Liars and traitors, all of you! You only end up hunting down your friends in the end!"

"Well yes," Ezra said, annoyed. Still, his anger was a source of strength, letting the Dark Side flow through him with ever-greater ease. He needed that strength - it would prevent him from thinking too hard about what he had to do. "But only because Kanan's a Jedi. And he refused and he keeps refusing and I no longer believe that's ever going to change!" He moved to the side, trying to circle around the mess of rubble, tangled cables and metal scrap, to get a good view of their hiding-place. If he tried to simply jump over, that would leave him open to an attack in the moments before he landed.

"Fine." Kanan stepped out from behind the twisted metal, in the process of screwing the pieces of his lightsaber together.

"Get back here," Hera hissed, just loud enough for Ezra to overhear, but Kanan shook his head.

"We can't keep running forever," he said. "This needs to end. It might as well be now."

He sounded defeated already. Ezra suspected this was going to be depressingly easy. Perhaps Kanan even wanted to die. It was a pity it had come to this, but Ezra was able to look at the bigger picture now in a way he never had when he was younger. It might not seem like it at first, but doing this would make the galaxy a safer place in the end. And no-one else would have to die.

Kanan ignited his lightsaber. Ezra gave him little enough time after that to even get his guard up - aggression was, after all, the way of the Dark Side. Their sabers spat as they clashed, as they tested each other's strength. Ezra had learned a lot in the past few years, and Kanan… well, he had only ever been a padawan. There had been no-one for the last Jedi to spar with since Ezra left, and it showed. He was just a little slower, a little less sure, a little… inadequate. Ezra already knew that he was going to win. It was only a matter of time, and when the opening inevitably came, he would take it.

Then all this would finally be over.

0 ABY - Temple Ruins, Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

"You killed him," Luke said, trying to process what he had just seen. What he had just felt… because he had been feeling emotions, thoughts, that weren't his own all throughout that. Thoughts that must have belonged to Ezra. The Inquisitor blinked as the last remnants of the image - of the memory - slowly vanished into the air and darkness that surrounded them.

"I don't know why we saw that…" he said very quietly. "That's not… it didn't ask anything of us. It was just…"

"A memory?" Luke said sharply, completing the thought. "I saw who he was, what he meant to you! He was your teacher! And you just… killed him. Just like that. How could you?"

"Because it was necessary!" Ezra snapped, fire blazing in his eyes. "For the good of the Empire, for the good of the galaxy! Not because I wanted to!"

"How can you believe that?" Luke asked. How could anyone murder someone they had cared about so much, just for… for ideas? For something so… so abstract? In that vision of the past, he had looked through Ezra's eyes, and he had felt the memories within the memory, everything that Kanan Jarrus the person meant - not just someone who had told Ezra about the Force, but someone to look up to, someone he cared for, someone who was almost a second father. And all that… given up. Abandoned. Why?

"He was a Jedi! He would have found another padawan, he would have told them the same lies he told me, it would all have happened all over again and the Empire would have… would have been forced to act against everyone his ideas had touched! By killing him I was saving their lives!"

Luke could hear the pleading in Ezra's voice. He could feel the guilt behind it, the pain, the anger that seeped out of all the cracks in his mind and the oily, strange, cold side of the Force that crept in behind it, trying to soothe. "You mean your crew, right?" he asked softly. "The other ones we saw there, in the memory?"

"Yes. Because of what I did, they're still out there, somewhere. Hating me, but alive."

"That kind of choice… it's horrible," Luke said. "I don't understand how you can work for the Empire when they're the ones who forced you to make a choice like that."

Ezra shook his head. The cracks in his Force presence were already beginning to disappear, the cold walls coming up. "Terrible choices are just the way of the galaxy," he said. "And strong governments understand that. It's why terrorists like your Rebel Alliance aren't going to win."

"It shouldn't be like that!" Luke replied. "It doesn't have to be like that!"

"Let's go," Ezra said. "There's going to be more before we make it all the way in."

0 ABY - YT-1300 Millenium Falcon, above Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

Han had shown some good sense for once, and brought the rust-bucket he called a ship out of hyperspace at the edge of the Vrogas Vas system, well out of range of any standard Imperial sensor sweep patterns. Their informant had been very certain that Vader had no knowledge of any treachery, and would not be expecting anyone else to be in this system. They ought to be able to approach carefully at sublight speeds and assess the situation. The Falcon's own sensor suite was… ramshackle at best, even Solo himself had admitted, but Leia had arranged for the Rebellion's technicians to improve it to the point that they would be able to see Vader before he saw them. After the installation was complete they had come here hadn't even been time to make a detour to pick up Chewbacca.

"Are you picking anything up yet?" she asked Han, as they slid past a cold, dead ball of a planet, closer towards the fat red sun ahead of them and the temperate world orbiting it.

"Patience, princess," Han replied, leaning back in his chair. "Even this new tech isn't that good - and where did you steal it anyway; fell off the back of a freighter on the way to KDY?"

"Something like that," Leia admitted. Kuat Drive Yards had always been a bastion of Imperial support, which only made sense given how many credits rolled into Kuat's coffers from them every year. But not everyone employed by that vast company had agreed with the building of the Death Star, and some had been very pleased to see it reduced to nothing more than rubble and dust.

"Hope you don't think you're getting it back when I leave," Han said, smirking. "Smuggling cargo past the Imps'll be child's play with those babies looking out for me."

"Still insisting you've got someplace better to be?" Leia asked. At this point she knew it was only bluffing. Something Solo told himself to pretend he still had the independence he held so dear. No. He might not believe the Alliance could win, but he believed in its ideals, he had friends here - Luke chief amongst them - and he was starting to come around to the idea that they really could strike back against the Empire's tyranny, that there really was hope yet for freedom and democracy.

"Listen, I'm not making any money hanging around with losers…" Han started to say, and then trailed off, focusing intently at the readouts in front of him.

"What is it?"

"We're picking up some readings - difficult to be sure at this distance, but it looks like an Imperial cruiser."

"Then he's already here?" Leia asked, her fingers tightening on the back of Han's chair to the point of pain. "That traitor Karbin said he was still on Nar Shaddaa!"

"He also said Vader would be coming alone," Han pointed out. "Call me crazy, but last time I checked, a whole cruiser doesn't mean alone. That info mentioned a small ship."

Leia couldn't quite hold back her growl of frustration. "I knew we couldn't trust him," she said. "That thing has the firepower to survive our battlegroup just long enough for Imperial reinforcements to arrive. It has to be a trap."

Han started to plot in a course change that would bring them back round, firing up the nav computer as he did so. "I'd've thought they'd be smarter than that," he said. "Should'a known we'd have guessed their plan the moment we saw that cruiser."

Leia frowned. He was right. The Empire could often be overconfident, but it was rarely foolish, and Vader was a great deal smarter than this. Why not a shuttle, or even his TIE-Advance? A good pilot could evade their ships long enough to spring a trap… and Vader was a lot more than just a good pilot, so why this? Why overplay his hand with a show of strength?

"Wait a minute," she said. "Can you fly this thing close enough that we can get a read on their ident without being detected."

"Of course," Han said, affecting indignation at the thought that his piloting might be as shabby as his ship. "But unless you've got the Imp database loaded up on those sensors as well I'm not sure what good it'll do us."

Leia only smiled.

"You don't… do you?"

"An old copy," Leia told him. "Just enough to get us a name, and some sort of history if we're lucky. But that might tell us enough to work out what kind of game the Empire's playing here."

Han nudged the Falcon back onto its original heading, and they continued on further into the system. Leia felt the apprehension curdling in her stomach like something sour, but she ignored it. That too was getting easier to do - she had been in what felt like hundreds of situations where there was no guarantee of a good outcome - and although Han hadn't mentioned it yet, she was sure the possibility was weighing on his mind even heavier than on her own. If Vader had come in that ship, if this trap really was his work, then he had been in the same system as Luke for who knew how long… And there was no way that anything good could have come of that.

"We're getting something," Han said suddenly, breaking through the preoccupation of her thoughts. "That's an ISB cruiser. Bayonet class. The Starfall. Huh, not exactly up to Imp standard with a name like that. Should be called the Devastator, or the Wrathful, something like that."

"The ISB… that doesn't seem right," Leia said, half to herself. "Vader is involved with them on occasion, but he much prefers to use Navy resources… so why would he be baiting a trap with an ISB ship?"

"Perhaps its Captain did something to piss him off recently?" Han suggested.

"There's something here we're missing," Leia said.

There was the sense, the shape of something, some thought lurking at the edge of her mind, but she didn't get a chance to get a proper grip on it, because at that moment another ship dropped out of hyperspace approaching the planet. It was a sleek silver yacht and it definitely did not belong in this situation.

"Hell, whoever's on that ship is about to have a very bad day," Han said, looking alarmed.

"Scan it," Leia ordered, her heart sinking. "I have a very bad feeling about this."

0 BBY - Tatooine, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim

Something was burning. Ezra could smell the acrid, chemical scent, and something else underneath, something very particular and distinctive. He knew it as the scent a lightsaber left after carving through flesh. Here, he suspected a different cause. The air was heavy with smoke.

He was still reeling from the last vision, and from Luke's words to him in that brief moment afterwards. He had done his best to forget Boz Pity. Better to relegate it to the past; he had done what was necessary and let that be the end of it. He had secured his place in the Inquisitorius, ended the threat to the Empire, opened up his path to power that would let him protect people… it was useless to think about the price he had paid for all of that.

It had seemed easier, before he'd done it. He hadn't thought… he hadn't considered what it would really be like, to feel Kanan's life dwindle away, to feel him become one with the Force. To feel Hera's heart break. No, he had only thought about the lies of the Jedi, about what Kanan had been complicit in, even though Kanan had practically still been a child when the Jedi Order existed. But Kanan had only ever known what the Jedi had told him, none of it was really his fault, and… if he could have just joined the Inquisitorius…

No, he was going to forget this! He needed his anger; guilt was no weapon, guilt was just a path to uncertainty and no-one could use the Dark Side if they didn't have confidence in themselves, in the rightness of their actions. Kanan had forced his hand. Believe in that. The others - your family - they're alive because you killed him. Believe in that.

Besides, he was right in the middle of another vision, and he needed to concentrate. It was no memory of his own, which meant he must be seeing something of Luke's. Where was Skywalker? Ezra scanned the unfamiliar surroundings, looking for the small figure through the thick, oily black smoke. In trouble? He hoped not, for his own sake.

"Luke," he called out, trying not to shout too loud, in case unfriendly ears were listening. "Luke, where are you?"

He was somewhere dry, dusty and hot. The sky overhead was a clear blue where it was visible, with… two suns? Binary systems with habitable planets were rare, but he didn't know the names of any systems that might match this one. There was some kind of building a little way off, a low dome scorched with the marks of blaster fire, and several other structures that seemed built into the ground. If Luke was here, perhaps he would find him in there.

As Ezra made his way towards the building, he heard the sound of a speeder approaching. It was an old X-34 model in faded red, though well-maintained. As it slowed and came to a halt, a figure in white jumped out and ran towards the dome. It took a moment, but then he realised - it was Luke. The tan had faded and the hair darkened since whenever this memory was taking place, but it was unmistakably him.

"Uncle Owen!" Luke shouted. "Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!"

Ezra already had a bad feeling about this. He started to jog towards him. Skywalker didn't seem to have noticed his presence yet. His gaze was fixed on a point just by the open door… and the two bodies that lay there. Ezra swore to himself. Of course. Family. Attachment. Loss. That's what these visions were pulling on. Just measuring their reactions, or were the actual tests yet to come?

Luke looked away from the grisly sight. Ezra could feel his anger, but it was unfocused, no-one to target it on, and not yet sensitive enough in the Force to use it to call on the Dark Side. Perhaps then it would be alright. If this was all the memory had to show them…

A noise came from inside the house. Luke heard it; he snapped to attention and drew the lightsaber that had been hanging from his belt. But his form was terrible, and he held it awkwardly, as though it was unfamiliar to his hand. Had he only just been given it? This memory couldn't be long ago - Luke hadn't changed that much. He had said it was his father's - so where was his father in all this? Long dead, or had it been more recently? Luke had claimed Darth Vader had killed him, but Lord Vader had been hunting Jedi and Force-sensitives for years, so that gave Ezra no clues.

A white helmet poked up out of the sunken stairwell leading down inside the house. Ezra tensed as everything seemed to hold still in a perfect moment of tension and surprise… and then with a yell Luke activated his saber and leapt forwards, swinging wildly. The stormtrooper ducked, and the blade left a glowing line in the wall above his head. His blaster came up, and he squeezed off a trio of shots, forcing Luke back as his saber whirled desperately to deflect them. That anger was no longer vague, aimless, it was concentrated down to a single point of rage, and the moment he was pushed hard enough to really draw on the Force…

It couldn't have actually happened this way, Ezra realised. Not and have Luke still be the person that he was now. And that trooper… his presence in the Force was oddly flat, not like that of a real person at all. It was as if he was simply… a puppet. Yes, that was it. The trooper was no more real than his own vision of the Inquisitor in the temple on Lothal. Which meant that this was a test… and one which Luke was going to fail if things continued on as they were now.

That realisation should have pleased him. So why didn't it? Even if Luke started to use the Dark Side and they became trapped, they had Aphra to pull them out. Why was he so worried?

"Luke, wait," he shouted, operating on instinct. "Think about this! Remember where you really are!"

But Luke didn't seem to hear him. Couldn't hear him, perhaps. Ezra hadn't noticed Luke's presence while he was reliving their last memory, so perhaps he was just as invisible to Luke in this one. So what could he do then? Nothing? Just let this play out? No, he sensed danger ahead if things continued on their current path, vague and nebulous, but still present.

Luke swung again, the lightsaber humming through the air, scoring a line along the stormtrooper's shoulder - but it was only a glancing hit, not deep enough to truly wound. Still, the trooper shouted out in alarm, and started to back away down the stairs, firing his blaster as he went. Ezra felt the Force pulse around Skywalker and Luke flung himself to the side out of the way, cursing.

That gave him an idea. Maybe he wasn't able to reach Luke physically, but through the Force… the Dark Side was all around them, trembling with a sense of eagerness, just waiting on Luke's slightest command to jump to his will. But it would answer to Ezra's just as well. He reached out his mind towards the brilliant fire that was Luke, reached out to that fury that wanted to avenge the loss of his family - a fury Ezra knew all too well.

Luke, he called. Luke, stop. Wait. Wait just a moment.

His words were answered by confusion, a flurry of thoughts too fast to read, and then finally Luke turned towards him, lowered his saber.

"Ezra?" he said. "What are you doing here… oh." Ezra felt the realisation slowly spread across his mind as the temple's cloak of disorientation gradually disintegrated. "This… this isn't real."

"No, it's not. It's one of the tests. Trying to see what you'll do when you're angry."

Luke looked down at the lightsaber in his hand as though he was surprised by its very presence. "It didn't happen like this," he said. "When I got here… there wasn't anyone left."

Slowly, their surroundings began to dissolve, the light of the two suns overhead fading back into the familiar darkness of the temple.

"Where was that anyway?" Ezra asked. The light from Luke's blade illuminated the walls all around them, illuminated their faces and not much more. Luke's expression was pained. The anger had mostly ebbed away from him, but the sorrow remained.

"My home," he replied.

"What happened?"

"Why are you asking?" Luke glared at him. "You don't really want to know - you're part of the Empire, you agree with everything they do, even when they murder people! You're nothing more than one of their executioners! They killed my family; my father, my mother - I never knew much about her but my Aunt and Uncle told me that much. Owen and Beru were all I had, and then the Empire killed them too!"

Ezra found himself taking a step back in the face of the venom turned his way. The Dark Side was still close, and if Luke reached out to it now… he wasn't sure he'd survive the experience. Perhaps this was what his instincts had been trying to tell him. Let the padawan turn away from the Light Side and the Jedi, but let him do it once Ezra was well away from here! He would be far too dangerous until he learned to use his anger, to control it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right; I shouldn't have asked."

"Fine," Luke said, turning away and powering off his lightsaber. "Then let's keep going."

Luke really didn't like how he was feeling at the moment. He wasn't used to being this angry, this… this out of control. Ever since he had left Tatooine he had been angry at the Empire, but it hadn't been anger like that, anger that burned, that chased all of the thought out of your head. The only time he had felt like that before was facing Darth Vader on the factory moon, and look how much good that had done him! Vader had smacked him down with ease, and would have killed him if it weren't for Leia and Han. He had vowed that next time would be different, next time he would be stronger in the Force, a better fighter, and he would be smart about it.

But it was one thing to say that to yourself, another to actually do it. Was that what the vision had been trying to show him? It had been so raw, so real. Just like being back there, after pushing the speeder to its limits to reach their house from the destroyed Jawa transport, already knowing in the back of his mind that it was too late from the very moment he saw the stain of smoke on the horizon. The stormtroopers hadn't even given them the decency of a burial. Just left their bodies there, left their bones to dry in the sun. Probably hoping it too would be blamed on Sand People.

How was he, how was anyone, supposed to be calm in the face of that?

He followed Ezra sullenly on down the corridor. Had he been too harsh, speaking to him like that? None of it was untrue, and after what he had seen in the Inquisitor's memories… if he had been about to fail the temple's test because he cared too much, then at least that was better than caring so little you could do that… or twisting your caring into whatever strange, warped version of it now drove Ezra on. No, he didn't regret his words, and even Ezra hadn't objected to it. Luke had felt that much from him - a weary kind of acceptance.

So what now? How many more tests, visions, could there be?

Next time, Luke vowed, next time, he would do better.

0 ABY - J-type 327 Nubian yacht Padmé Amidala, above Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

The boy - his son - was alive. That much became clear at the moment of Vader's arrival in this system. The world of Vrogas Vas glowed in the Force, but Luke's presence burned more brightly still. How was it that he had not seen it at their last meeting? He had seen that strength, acknowledged it, but he had not considered what it might mean. He had not looked deeply enough to see the truth that, now he knew it, was so obvious. There had been no reason to suspect the boy was his son, no reason to suspect that he even had a son, but that was a poor excuse. The Force would have told him, had he merely asked it.

There was no time to dwell on mistakes. Luke was alive, yes, but that was no guarantee that he was safe. Until he had the Inquisitor in front of him and could pull the answers he needed from his mind he would not know the reasons he had come to be here. The man might yet turn out to be a traitor. And now that he was here above Vrogas Vas, he could sense what had drawn his son; there was a Jedi Temple on the planet. Such a place was not without its own dangers for the unwary and untrained. Luke was strong, but he knew little of the ways of the Force. Kenobi had been too scared of his potential to teach him - it was the only explanation Vader could see for the current state of affairs. But that too had its own benefits - there would be no bad habits for him to unlearn.

He was being hailed. Vader roused himself from the state of meditation that he usually maintained during hyperspace travel and opened the channel.

"Unidentified vessel, this is the ISB cruiser Starfall. You are trespassing on an Imperial mission. State your name and purpose in this star system immediately, or you will be met with deadly force."

So, the Inquisitor had not informed his ship of the situation on the planet's surface. That had been wise of him; the fewer people who knew anything about Luke the better. It would only have taken the mention of Luke's name… he could not take the chance that someone old enough to have a good memory of the Clone Wars would put the pieces together. Vader accessed his own ship's systems, searching the database for this particular vessel.

"Captain Siln," he said, and heard the intake of breath over the channel as the captain recognised who was speaking. His voice was particularly distinctive. "My business here is none of your concern."

"Lord Vader!" the captain said. "I apologise! Of course, we await your orders. The Twelfth Brother remains on the surface at the present moment, but we can hail him immediately…"

"That will not be necessary Captain," Vader said. "I will be landing on Vrogas Vas. Remain in orbit. I may have further orders for you."

"Yes, my lord."

Vader closed the channel. Captain Siln was obedient, and to his credit, not inclined to ask questions despite the inquisitiveness that would have been drilled into him as part of ISB training. Whether he would live to continue to serve the Empire was a question regarding which he had not yet decided. Much would depend on what he found on the planet below, and the answers the Twelfth Brother gave him.

That designation… he remembered the boy, remembered him as something other than the usual apprentices whose final training he usually oversaw. He had captured the boy personally. The Inquisitor had once been a Jedi's padawan, one of their poor attempts at continuing the traditions of their fallen order, and his strength in the Force had been slightly above average. And he had killed his former Master, which showed promise for a Sith.

Was this significant? Perhaps not.

Soon it would not matter. Soon he would have his son.

0 ABY - YT-1300 Millenium Falcon, above Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

"Karbin was telling the truth after all," Han said, as their tenuous hold on the Imperial comm channel finally slipped and disintegrated into static. "Huh. Wouldn't have thought it of some Imp officer slime."

Leia made no reply. She could barely seem to think through the white noise that filled her skull. He was here. Vader was here. That torturer, that murderer… He was here, in a sleek little ship that couldn't hold much more than just the monster himself, and he was heading for the planet's surface - alone. The presence of the cruiser made things more complicated, but their course of action seemed clear. Vader had to be captured, or he had to die. She knew which she would personally prefer, but it would be better for the Rebellion if they could take him alive. That kind of propaganda victory, piled on top of the one they had already won in destroying the Death Star…

But if they did somehow manage to capture him, could they keep him? Vader was an army in and of himself, as the Empire's own propaganda machine was always only too quick to capitalise on. When Vader was put in charge of an Imperial campaign, he led from the front, and they had the footage to prove it - carefully curated by COMPNOR, of course. Killing him would be challenge enough.

"What's Vader doing with a pretty ship like that?" Han was saying, although it must have been obvious that Leia was only half listening. "It looks like something you should be flying around in, Princess."

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking herself out of her thoughts. It was foolish to get caught up in all the things that could go wrong. She knew what had to be done. They had been handed an opportunity, and even if things weren't quite as favourable as they had hoped given the cruiser currently in orbit, the potential rewards far outweighed the many risks. The battle group was waiting, and would be more than a match for a single Imperial vessel. "We've got to make the call, and summon the fleet that Mon promised."

"And what about Luke?" Han asked, gesturing to the blue and green ball of the planet below. "You heard - Vader's heading down there right now! By the time your ships get here, it might be too late!"

Leia raised an eyebrow. "Are you of all people suggesting we should embark on a risky, potentially suicidal rescue mission?" she asked him sarcastically. "Oh wait, I remember how well thought out your plan to rescue me was."

"Hey, that plan was all Luke's idea," Han replied. "My plans are much better."

"Let's hear it then."

He hesitated. "Well I hadn't actually gotten that far yet. But we can't just hang around here waiting for a couple of hours after we send the signal! Who the hell knows why Vader came here, but the moment he finds out that Luke is down there too, it's all over for the kid!"

They should wait. It would be the smarter thing to do. But Leia couldn't deny that she was worried about Luke as well. Heading down to the surface would alert the Imperials to their presence… but that yacht couldn't be as fast or as well-armed as the Falcon, and if they could make it past the cruiser into atmosphere, then they might be able to prevent Vader from making any kind of escape. If they could destroy or disable his ship… that would greatly improve the Rebellion's chances.

"Do you really think you can make it?" she asked.

"Piece of cake," Han said, smirking. "Send your signal, and then I'll show you some real fancy flying."

Ezra blinked. He was standing on a stage, staring out at a crowd of grim and silent faces. A TIE fighter screamed overhead, swooping low over familiar buildings. He was on Lothal, in Central City. In the plaza where the Empire Day celebrations were always held. And where… he turned around.

He had been expecting to see a younger version of himself behind him, but the reality was far worse. Sabine, Hera and Zeb were on their knees in front of a line of stormtroopers, arms cuffed behind their backs, heads bowed. The troopers held their blasters at the ready, only waiting for the signal. The firing squad. Ezra remembered them from his own execution.

No. No this couldn't be happening! This wasn't real! If something like this had happened, he would have heard about it, he would have known, he would have been able to… been able to…

Rescue them? he asked himself. Is that what you would have done? He didn't know. He didn't… this hadn't been part of the agreement. Kanan was dead, that meant the others would be safe, it meant…

"Inquisitor," someone said beside him. He turned again, and looked into the expectant, smirking face of Agent Kallus. Kallus raised his eyebrows, and gestured to the trio. "Such trouble these terrorists have caused," Kallus said, looking at Hera and shaking his head in a mockery of sadness. "But with their deaths, you will be striking a blow for peace across the sector. Dissidents like them will think twice before daring to strike against the Empire and the safety of its citizens."

Ezra was holding a lightsaber. Not his own; one of the standard Inquisitorial models, impersonal, not attuned to him, but serviceable enough. Ezra looked down at it, then at Kallus. He had always hated Kallus, whose personal philosophy seemed to be the same as that of Tarkin - rule through fear, claiming that this was strength. He had gloated, gloated, about the genocide of Zeb's people, about the burning of Lasan. He would be pleased now wouldn't he, to be able to finish the job.

"Will you do the honours?"Kallus asked him "After all, it is you we have to thank for their capture, is it not?"

No. No, that couldn't be true, even in this false version of reality that would never be true, he would never…

You killed Kanan, a voice said in his head, a voice sounding very much like Luke. You really think you aren't capable of this?

"No," Ezra said quietly.

"I beg your pardon Inquisitor?" Kallus said.

Don't kill him either! Luke's voice said quickly. Remember what you warned me, about using the Dark Side here. It's just an illusion. It's just the Temple.

Ezra relaxed his hold on the Dark Side - he had barely been aware that he was drawing it to him. He had been moments from driving his lightsaber through Agent Kallus' chest, from going on to slaughter every stormtrooper here just to keep his friends safe. His crew were his family, even now.

Yes, I would have gone to rescue them, if it had come to this, he admitted to himself. I would have abandoned the Inquisitorius, I would have abandoned strength, the road to changing the galaxy, to removing people like Tarkin and Kallus from power… I would have given it all up for them.

And if these trials were useful for nothing else, they were useful in teaching him that much about himself.

Vader strode through the temple corridors, his lightsaber held ready at his side. He could feel his son's presence burning ahead of him, past a barrier in the Force that was meant to turn away those not sufficiently trained for the trials that lay beyond it. That did not seem to have stopped Luke. Or perhaps he had the Twelfth Brother to thank for this? Aphra's ship had been outside along with his son's X-wing, but there had been no sign of the Inquisitor or his TIE. The TIE was likely elsewhere in the forest, but he could not feel the Inquisitor in the Force. Since he surely was not dead, the only possibility remaining was that he was close enough to Luke for the boy's own Force presence to mask him.

Why had the Twelfth Brother done this? Why had he helped Luke find the way into the Temple? - for although his son's natural abilities were great, Vader strongly doubted they were enough to breach that barrier without some form of guidance. It was not in his self-interest, and Vader knew Aphra had made it very clear to the Inquisitor just whom she was working for.

She should have stopped this. That she had not was… displeasing. Even if she knew nothing of the Force, she knew not to trust an unknown factor like the Inquisitor.

He had reached the barrier. When he passed it, no doubt the temple would attempt to test him, but he had no interest in the pitiful trials of the Jedi. They were immaterial to him; he was the Chosen One, his strength was unmatched by any in the galaxy save his Master. There was nothing they could show him that he had not already seen. There was an irony in that - it was only once he had left the path of the Jedi forever that he had lost all of the attachments that they would have had him cast aside; Kenobi, Padmé, their child…

Except that he had not lost his son. The thought gave him a moment's pause, but he knew himself to be stronger than any mere vision. If they attempted to trick him, to distract him from reaching Luke, then he would tear them apart with the power of the Dark Side.

Vader stepped through the barrier, the Light Side retreating before him. Yet it did not stay away for long. It had simply paused to gather itself, too set in its habit of centuries to do anything but what the Jedi had commanded of it. The passage in front of him faded away, and he found himself… elsewhere.

This was Tatooine - even had he not recognised the building in which he stood that much would have been obvious. It was in the taste of the dust-dry air, the golden sand that collected in every corner no matter how often the floors were swept, the particular quality of the light of the binary suns. Etra and Tyun, Justice and Vengeance in the slave tongue, the eggs of the Krayt dragon awaiting the moment of the great chain-breaking to hatch and unleash their wrath on all Masters. A foolish folktale. As a child he had dreamed of freeing slaves, of returning to Tatooine as a Jedi Master, of seeing the Hutts dead at his feet… but the Jedi had not cared what happened outside the boundaries of their weak Republic. The Senate was too corrupt. He had been forced to accept the truth of the matter - the existence of slavery was too profitable for any of these so-called civilized worlds to object to. Their mouths condemned it, whilst their pockets filled with credits.

The Republic might have fallen, but the people had not changed.

This vision was showing him the palace of Gardulla the Hutt. She was holding court here, surrounded by the smugglers, the slavers, the bounty-hunters, everyone who fawned in front of her throne hoping for the credits her favour could bring their way. In the shadows her house-slaves moved around almost unnoticed, ensuring a constant flow of food, water and spirits and cleaning up the inevitable mess left behind. Was his mother somewhere amongst these faces? Was he, as some version of his younger self?

Did the temple hope to provoke his anger by reminding him of this time? These memories were irrelevant. They belonged to the childhood of a man who was long dead and replaced by someone stronger. They had no power over him.

"I grow bored," Gardulla announced to the crowd in Huttese. "Bring me some entertainment."

Two guards dragged a struggling man forwards and forced him to his knees in front of the Hutt's dais. He was certainly a slave, nearly naked, his back scarred with whip marks and with one leg that had been broken in the past and healed badly twisted. No doubt that was why he had been chosen - thus hampered, he was of limited use. Gardulla's idea of entertainment was one that habitually ended in death, and this man would not be a great loss to her.

"Bets!" Gardulla cried, lifting a little black rod in one hand. Such a deceptively simple device. One would not think, to look upon it, what threat it held. But he remembered it and could not stop his jaw from tensing with the sudden stab of anger. Shouting and laughter erupted from the crowd, hands waving credit chips in the air. The slave trembled. His face was not familiar. Yet Vader did not doubt this was a true memory, even if it struck no immediate chord within him.

What did it matter? He had to find his son; he should not allow himself to be distracted by the meaningless things the temple chose to show him. He reached out for the Force, intending to shred this illusion and continue on.

"Betting is closed!" Gardulla said as the shouting reached its fever-pitch, and pressed a button on the control rod. There was a dull thump, muffled by flesh and bone, and a wet slap as blood and meat hit the flagstones. A hole a handspan across had been torn from the slave's left shoulder, detaching his arm with it. A ruin of ribs, muscles and pumping arterial blood was all that was left in the wake of the chip's detonation. The Hutt laughed, belly-deep, joined by other voices mingled with curses from those who had guessed the location wrongly.

Vader turned away. He had seen enough.

Behind him a voice cried out.

"Father!"

He couldn't stop himself from looking. Even though he knew it could not be real, that it would only be another lie. Luke lay on the sandstone floor in a spreading pool of blood, tears of pain running down his face. The arm that was left to him was reaching out, reaching towards him.

With a shudder, the flagstones under Vader's feet cracked and cratered. Pillars trembled. Gardulla's court, those scum, started to back away, then collapsed clawing at their throats. The Hutt herself, vast body quivering, started to rise into the air, eyes rolling, fat tongue lolling out…

The vision vanished. The last scraps of it disappeared in shreds of light and colour, torn apart in the hurricane of his wrath. He was left with nothing but dark stone and the harsh rasp of his respirator echoing from the walls.

No. His son was alive, unharmed. Free. Grakkus had not had time to implant a chip. He was so close.

Soon Luke would be his, and he would be safe.

19 BBY - Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim

Luke had no time to think about what he had just seen in Ezra's vision, whether it had any basis in reality or not, because instead of fading back into the corridor in the temple, they had already been pushed into another of the visions. If the pattern held true, then this ought to be something connected to him, but nothing around about looked familiar. And he could see Ezra, feel his surprise and confusion, which he shouldn't have been able to if this was one of his own tests. They were standing on a landing platform next to a beautiful silver yacht - Luke thought it might be a Nubian design - looking out over a landscape made of rock and fire. The sky overhead was dark with thick black clouds, lit from below by the flows of lava that seemed to ooze from every crevice in the broken hills and mountains that surrounded them. The yacht's landing ramp was open, but there didn't seem to be any sign of life.

"This… this is Mustafar," Ezra said beside him, eyes wide. "Why are we here? And… that's not the Inquisitorius facility I know."

"Mustafar… you mentioned that name before," Luke said. "That's where the Inquisitors are trained, right?"

Ezra nodded. "I thought we'd be in another of your memories. It's not mine - none of the buildings look the same."

"But the Force - the temple - it's showing us this for a reason. Perhaps it's a warning…" Luke didn't get a chance to complete his thought. At that moment, there was a shudder in the Force, like some sort of intangible explosion. Even the vision itself moved with it, becoming fuzzy and indistinct for a brief moment before reforming. As it did so, a figure came down the ramp of the ship behind them. Luke turned to look, thinking perhaps he or Ezra might know them, that that would be the connection, but something was wrong. He couldn't see her face. It was almost as though the vision was acting like a corrupted holotape, showing bits and pieces but unable to put the whole thing together. He looked at Ezra, but the Inquisitor seemed just as confused as he was.

Another figure came running towards them from the buildings, if anything even more indistinct. All that seemed to be there was a dark shadow, a smudge on the air. The two embraced and then began speaking in low voices. Luke approached them warily, but he might as well have been invisible for all the notice they took of him.

"This doesn't seem… right," he said.

"It's not," Ezra replied. "This isn't a memory and it doesn't seem like a test… so what is it? Why show it to us?"

The two figures no longer seemed to be just talking, but arguing. Their body language had become stiff and angry. The taller one, the dark shadow, raised an arm… Once again, a shudder passed through the Force, through the vision. It shook the two figures apart into nothingness and left merely the landing platform and the ship, as empty and lifeless as they had been before. Luke shivered. This was starting to be more than a little bit creepy.

"Does the temple want something from us?" he asked. "Are we meant to be doing something?"

"I have no idea," Ezra replied, sounding just as frustrated as Luke felt.

Luke was growing more and more uneasy. What if there was something wrong with the trials, with the temple? What if after all these years without being used, without any Jedi here to look after it, it had malfunctioned somehow, gotten stuck in some kind of loop - as even the best AI programming he knew sometimes did - and they were going to be stuck here? Not that he really believed the Force worked like that, but now that the thought had occurred to him it was proving difficult to shift.

Then there was movement again. A man in a dirty white tunic and trousers came jogging up a set of stairs Luke hadn't previously noticed, heading towards the ship. Whatever strange effect that had been earlier, it didn't seem to be affecting him. No, Luke could make out his features as he came closer and he seemed… very familiar. But familiar how? His gaze dropped to the lightsaber strapped to the man's belt, and then his mind made the connection.

"Ben?"

But Ben was no more able to hear him than the figures earlier. He looked… he looked weary beyond belief. And he was younger; a lot younger. His hair was still ginger, and his face had none of the lines that age and Tatooine's weather would one day give it. He headed towards the ship and disappeared inside.

"Kenobi…" Ezra too was staring at Ben, with a dawning familiarity.

"How do you know Ben Kenobi?" Luke asked him suspiciously.

"Ben? That's Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi," Ezra replied, frowning at him. "I saw him on a Jedi holocron once. I assumed he'd died a long time ago, but if you know him…"

The reminder and the pain that came with it hit Luke like a slap in the face. He didn't want to tell Ezra anything about Ben - it would feel wrong, telling this Imperial, this Sith, about any of it. As though he were dirtying Ben's memory somehow. But what if he had to, what if it was important somehow to why they were seeing this? He swallowed past the sudden dry lump in his throat.

"He lived… near me, on Tatooine, while I was growing up. After my Aunt and Uncle were killed, we left, and he taught me for a little while. Darth Vader… murdered him, on the Death Star."

"There were rumours about that," Ezra said, looking thoughtful. "So it was Master Kenobi… I heard stories about him from when he was a General during the Clone Wars. Kenobi and…" He stopped speaking suddenly.

"What?" Luke asked suspiciously.

"The ramp is closing," Ezra pointed out, although that was certainly not what he had been going to say. "I have a feeling we should be on that ship."

"Fine," Luke said, following him as he started to run. It wasn't far; in a moment they were on the yacht, and the ramp hissed closed behind them.

"Now what were you really going to say?" Luke asked, before Ezra could wander away into the ship and find something happening to distract him from the question.

"I can't tell you," Ezra said.

"You mean you don't want to tell me."

"I mean if I do tell you something terrible will happen to me."

Luke stared at him. He was not entirely certain how much he should trust his impressions of the Force given how strange this vision had been so far, but from what he could tell, Ezra seemed to be sincere. Which made nothing any clearer.

"Don't ask me any more," Ezra said. "For both our sakes. Now, come on. I want to see what Kenobi is doing on this ship."

For the moment at least, Luke was willing to do that, if only because of how serious Ezra seemed to be about this. But that certainly didn't mean that the subject was closed - he would be asking about it again once they got out of here.

The yacht wasn't big - at the moment they were standing in a small ante-chamber that would also undoubtedly function as an airlock in vacuum conditions. Ezra touched a few controls on the panel beside the inner door, and it slid aside with a gentle hiss to reveal a larger room that stretched the length of the vessel with a stair in the center leading up to the cockpit. Kenobi was standing at the edge of a bed to one side of the room. Someone was lying there, asleep or unconscious. The woman from earlier! Luke recognised her from her clothes at least. Although… this time it didn't look as though her face was being concealed by that strange effect. Two droids also stood nearby - and they were familiar too!

"Isn't that the droid that shot me in the back?" Ezra asked, pointing to the little white-and-blue astromech.

"Yes, that's Artoo," Luke replied, amazed. He had never been entirely clear if Artoo's claim of once belonging to Ben had been true, or just a convenient fabrication to allow him to pass on Leia's message. But it seemed that the little droid really had been telling the truth. And the other one… that was C3P0! Had they both belonged to Kenobi before they had - presumably - been given to the Rebel Alliance?

"So he was Kenobi's before he was yours? I suppose that explains why he's so vicious," Ezra muttered under his breath.

"That's unfair," Luke told him, glaring. Artoo wasn't vicious! He was just… protective. And more than capable of doing something about his protectiveness. He was about to say something more, but then the woman stirred slightly, and Ben reached out to touch her shoulder as she began to wake. Luke moved nearer, hoping that this time they would be able to hear something that might explain what was going on here. The woman was pregnant, he realised. Earlier he hadn't been able to tell, but was that because of the Force effect or were the two parts of the vision actually separated in time?

"Obi-Wan…" the woman said, turning her head to look up at Ben. "Is Anakin alright?"

Luke felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of him. Anakin… his father… it could have been a coincidence, there had to be thousands of people with that name in the galaxy, but in these circumstances a coincidence was beyond unlikely. Here was the connection they'd been looking for - not only Ben Kenobi, but something to do with his father as well! Which must mean… this was his mother!

Luke stared at her. He felt like he was trying to drink in every little detail about her, the smallest thing about her appearance, her face, her eyes… did they look alike? It wouldn't have crossed his mind before, not without this realisation to make him look, but… maybe there was something. Or maybe it was just that he wanted them to look alike. And if she was pregnant then… she must be pregnant with him!

Ben put a comforting hand against his mother's face, but he said nothing. Luke couldn't see his face from where he stood, but… he remembered all too well the expression that had been on it earlier. He knew what this had to mean. He knew what this memory, this vision, had to be about.

This was the aftermath of his father's death.

That's where Ben had been, that's what he'd seen to make him look so defeated. He had just watched Darth Vader - his former pupil - murder Anakin Skywalker.

As Ben moved away, climbing the stairs to the cockpit, the vision wavered around them. Then gradually it disappeared, and they were back in the darkness of the Temple. Luke looked over at Ezra, who had a thoughtful expression on his face - what little could be seen of it in the very dim light.

Luke didn't really feel like talking to him, didn't feel like discussing what they had just seen. He didn't want to analyse why the temple had shown him that. And what had that first part been about? He was sure now that the first figure, the woman, had been his mother. But the other? Could that have been his father? If so, what had they been arguing about? Perhaps about Vader. His father must have wanted to go and fight him… He wasn't exactly happy to have seen the vision, but the opportunity to see his mother's face, to hear her voice, for the first time in his life… that felt like a gift. If only it could have been from a happier time! A time when perhaps his father might have been there too, and Luke could have seen to two of them, together…

He sighed. No, the temple wouldn't have shown them something like that. It wasn't going to show them happy things, not when there was no lesson to be learned from them. What had the lesson been from that… perhaps only to warn him about the consequences of the Dark Side. Of turning against the Jedi way, as Vader had done.

Well the Temple and the Force had nothing to worry about. He would never let himself become anything like Vader.

Obi-Wan was here. Padmé had betrayed him. Rage boiled inside him, bringing the power of the Force with it. Palpatine had been right - he had never felt as strong as he did in these moments since he had allowed his feelings free reign. His anger and pain didn't make him weaker, as the Jedi had told him. They had lied, they had lied for years, and they would have taken Padmé away from him! Even Obi-Wan had lied, and now he was here, now he had turned Padmé, the only person who really mattered away from him! What had he said to her, to make her think this way?

His fist was clenched in the air, wrapping the Force around it. He could feel his fingers digging into flesh, digging through flesh, closing up her throat. No more. No more words, no more of Kenobi's lies coming out of her mouth. Every sentence had been a knife stabbing into him and he couldn't…

No! His own voice, inside his head. Stop! This wasn't what you wanted!

His grip loosened. Padmé collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

She's dead, a part of himself whispered. You've killed her. You killed her.

No. No, I didn't. I couldn't have.

Because Luke existed. Luke was alive, and that meant that Padmé could not have died in this moment. However her death had truly come about, it had not been by his own hand. This was the temple, showing him no more than another Jedi lie, like all the other lies that had come before it.

Enough of this, he thought, and turned his anger against the vision itself once more, tearing it asunder. It was irrelevant. He needed to find his son, and then they could leave this place.

'The kid is Luke Skywalker'. That's what Aphra had told him. Things were starting to come together in Ezra's mind. Seeing Kenobi had allowed him to remember where he'd heard the name Skywalker before; it was from those rare occasions he'd been able to get Kanan to talk about the time before the Empire, during the Clone Wars. Kenobi and Skywalker. The Negotiator and the Hero With No Fear. Two Jedi who had been the heroes and idols of the Republic, Generals without peer. Where they went, armies were shattered, navies destroyed, and Separatists fell. They had seemed unstoppable. At least, that's what Kanan had told him. It might have all been Jedi propaganda, Republic propaganda. But either way it would have to have some basis in fact. Those two had been Jedi of a different order, far more powerful than Kanan, than even Fulcrum. The sort of Jedi only a Lord of the Sith could have a hope of defeating.

No wonder Luke was so strong, if he was Skywalker's son. No wonder it had taken Lord Vader personally to see to his father's death. And no wonder he had this connection with Kenobi, although it was strange how little he had been taught by him. Ezra would have thought this padawan - no doubt intended to be the instrument of the Jedi's revenge - would have been trained from birth in the ways of the Jedi, brought up completely brainwashed by their philosophy. But that hadn't happened. Why?

And why had Skywalker had a child in the first place? Surely a Jedi as dedicated and powerful as that would have been equally devoted to their ideals, including the ones about attachment?

It didn't really matter, Ezra decided. What mattered was that he was here, now, little more than a padawan, and walking straight into Lord Vader's trap. After they finished up here in the Temple, all Ezra needed to do was make sure he continued on that path, that Aphra was free to follow him back to the Rebels and free to contact Lord Vader with that information. Then that would be the end of it, and the end of the Jedi's secret weapon as well.

He'd almost slipped up in there, almost revealed that he knew Luke's last name even though Luke had never mentioned it. That would have been disastrous. But at the moment it looked like Luke had too much else on his mind to pursue that particular question. Good. Ezra hoped the temple and its secrets would continue to keep him sufficiently distracted. They couldn't be too far from the center now. The way ahead felt clear, no fogging in the Force, no hint of any other traps.

And indeed, after a short while following Luke on down the passage, the walls suddenly opened up all around them. Thin beams of light slanting down from slits in a ceiling that was far above them illuminated a large chamber. Slender, elegant pillars rose up in two rows ahead, with statues interspersed between them. Various heavy blast doors were set into the walls to either side, sealed shut. Ezra could feel the wonder that bloomed through Luke's mind.

"Wow," Skywalker said softly. "This is…"

"Everything you imagined?" Ezra asked him.

"I don't know what I imagined," Luke replied. Whatever dark thoughts had been weighing on him had entirely vanished, at least for the moment. "It feels so peaceful."

That was one way of putting it. The Light Side of the Force was strong here, and its placid stillness could be called peaceful, although it was no kind of peace that Ezra wanted. To him this place felt silent, watchful… unbearable. He hoped they would be able to find whatever Luke wanted here quickly and then get out as soon as possible.

"What do you think is behind all these doors?" Luke asked, approaching one of them. His hand reached forwards to touch it, fingers brushing the cold metal.

"Jedi artefacts, I assume," Ezra replied. "Relics of previous Knights and Masters. Their knowledge. This place is clearly untouched."

Luke whirled to face him, eyes narrowed. "Don't go getting any ideas," he said. "I'm not letting you destroy anything in here!"

"I wasn't thinking about it," Ezra admitted, although he really should have been. It was his duty, after all.

"Ah," said a voice behind him. "Here you are. And all in one piece too." It was Aphra, looking relieved to see them both. The astromech droid - Artoo - was by her side, beeping inquisitively. Ezra found himself almost glad to see her as well, if only because her presence would mean getting out of here all the sooner.

"Aphra!" Luke grinned. "You didn't run into any problems did you?"

"Nope," she said. "And you seem to have survived these trials of yours too."

"Just about," Luke replied, various conflicting emotions passing across his face - and through his mind. "Anyway, I was hoping you might be able to give us a hand with these doors? I think that might be more your speciality. And Artoo might be able to help as well."

"I can't deny it, I'm good at breaking into places" Aphra said, shrugging. She dropped her pack by the entrance and came over to have a look at the heavy durasteel door and its control interface. "This is pretty old tech. Luckily old tech is my speciality." She popped the control panel out of the wall with a tool from her belt, and after a surprisingly short span of time spent tinkering with the wiring underneath, the doors slid open with a grinding whirr that spoke of decades without being used.

At first darkness hid whatever was inside, but it took only the touch of another wire for Aphra to bring up the lights, revealing a row of smaller statues on either side of the door, each with their hands held cupped in front of them. Ezra could feel how the Light Side gathered here with even greater strength, drawn by whatever these statues held. Luke walked forwards into the room with the exaggerated slowness of a sleepwalker, his eyes wide and wonder pouring from him. His menace of an astromech droid followed him, bleeping curiously.

"These must have been old Jedi Masters," Skywalker said, mostly to himself.

"Listen, you," Aphra hissed, too quietly for Luke to hear, rising from her crouch and grabbing Ezra's arm. "What game do you think you're playing, bringing the kid in here? When Vader finds out that you did this…"

"No harm came to him," Ezra replied quickly, and just as quietly. "You told me to answer his questions, and that's what I'm doing." He was antagonising her and he knew it, it was just that the words seemed to come out of his mouth without his brain getting in the way. As her glare bored into him, he realised he was full of a kind of elated fear - knowing he had done something very foolish and would probably die because of it, but in the meantime he had done just what he himself wanted, which was a rare thing in his life.

"Even if you delivered this kriffing Jedi rubbish to Lord Vader personally that wouldn't be enough to save you," Aphra said.

"It doesn't matter," Ezra said. "It's done now. And if you want to keep up your own cover, you'd better start showing an interest in this 'Jedi rubbish' as well - after all, that's credits in your pocket, isn't it?"

Aphra let go of him with a rough shove, her glare practically hot enough to melt durasteel. "I should hand you over to Triple-Zero," she said, although what she meant by that he had no idea. He took a wary step back just in case she decided to punch him, cover be damned.

"I think you should open that door next," Ezra said, pointing indiscriminately. Or perhaps not so indiscriminately. As he turned his attention towards the direction his finger had landed on, he felt the Force… change there. There was a shadow dwelling behind that door, something that did not feel entirely like the Dark Side but certainly not like the Light either. Could the Jedi have something else hidden here? Could they have some kind of artefact of the Sith? It wasn't impossible - such things were often made to be difficult to destroy, and the old Order had thought it best to keep them wrapped up under lock and key where no unsuspecting Force-sensitive could get their hands on them by mistake.

Was this why the Dark Side had wanted him to help Luke? Because he would find this in here?

"My cover doesn't include taking orders from you," Aphra said in a fierce whisper. "You're the bad guy here, remember? I am a simple, innocent smuggler who has taken a shine to our little Rebel pilot…"

"You two aren't fighting are you?" Luke said from the doorway to the side-room. Ezra and Aphra jumped away from each other.

"Of course not," Ezra said quickly, before Aphra could get a word in edgeways. "Your friend here was just telling me she might be able to get that door over there open too."

"That is not what I said you little piece of…"

"Oh, hey," Luke interrupted. "That might be a good idea actually. That room does feel… different somehow." He frowned, clearly trying to analyse what he was feeling. Ezra hoped he wouldn't work it out. The kid probably wouldn't be best pleased to be helping the Sith - but he didn't have to know. And if he ended up taking a Dark Side holocron and using it, all the better!

"Fine," Aphra said, able to admit when she'd been beaten. "But I make no promises kid. That lock looks a lot trickier than the first one."

"I'm sure you'll try your best," Luke said. "And Artoo will help." He was so kriffing trusting. Ezra could understand why - Aphra herself didn't actually mean him any harm and so the Force wouldn't be giving him any signals - but still! Even if she had been nothing more than what she claimed to be it wouldn't have been a good idea to trust her! Ezra knew plenty about the self-interest of criminals - he had been one himself, a very long time ago.

"I'll manage without the droid's help," Aphra said. That was a good way for her to play it, Ezra thought with some irritation. Pretend it was just because of professional pride, and not because she had no particular desire to open that door at all.

Aphra went over to start work on the blast door, the astromech warbling sadly at her, leaving Ezra and Luke standing in a slightly awkward silence.

"How exactly are you planning on taking all of this stuff out of here anyway?" Ezra asked after a moment. "There's too much here for you to carry."

"I'm going to be relying on Aphra a lot," Luke admitted. "And I hope the Force will tell me what it's most important for me to take. I know Aphra doesn't care about the Jedi, but if I promise her that the Rebel Alliance will give her a better price for all this than any of the collectors out there…"

"You're going to be disappointed," Ezra said. "All of this, the Jedi way… anyone who hasn't been brainwashed by them should be able to see it for what it is. You shouldn't be looking to follow in their footsteps."

"I'm following in my father's footsteps," Luke replied. His determination was solid and steady, like a fixed point in the Force. Ezra's arguments alone would never be enough to convince him.

"Never mind," he said. "You'll change your mind, or you won't. If you do, I have no doubt the Inquisitorius would welcome you as one of us. If not…"

"If you're talking about Vader, I'm going to kill him first," Luke said. He really did mean it too. Didn't he know the first thing about Lord Vader? He wouldn't stand a chance.

But there was no use in trying to convince Luke of anything, not once he'd already made up his mind. Ezra hadn't known him very long, but it had been long enough to work that much out. He sighed. "I'm… going to watch Aphra work," he said.

"Fine," Luke relied. "Just… try not to antagonise her."

0 ABY - YT-1300 Millenium Falcon, Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

"I think we've lost them," Han said over the internal comms, bringing the Falcon down out of the cloud cover. Leia unclipped herself from the gunner's seat and started to climb back up towards the cockpit. He seemed to be right; there was no sign of any of the Starfall's TIE fighters. Some she had managed to destroy, the others seemed to have given up. If she had been their commander, she would have had them flying a search grid around the temple - their only logical destination - but she could only hope that the Imps would leave them for Vader to deal with.

"How far now?" she asked, once she had reached Han's side again.

"Ten kliks. Not long."

They were passing over a landscape of rivers and small islands thick with trees. Heavy mist floated over the water. Ahead were high hills; their best guess at where Vader's ship had touched down, based on his last position before he entered the cloud cover. The fact that she could just make out a number of towers rising from the forest up there only confirmed that her hunch had been correct. This was the place.

Han made a pass over the temple first, just to let them see the courtyard out front, crowded with ships. Luke's, Vader's… and another she didn't recognise. The one belonging to this 'Twelfth Brother'? It hardly looked Imperial, more like a smuggler's vessel with that worn paintwork and unusual configuration. Still, there was no sign of anyone out here, which meant that they just might be able to sneak on board that yacht and disable some vital systems.

"Where's Vader, that's what I want to know?" Han said. "Luke better still be in one piece, or I'm going to kill him!"

"Focus on one thing at a time," Leia told him. "Sabotage the ship, then we can find Luke."

The temple courtyard was large, but not that large. They would need to find somewhere else to set down, which wouldn't be easy in this terrain. But they would have to make it soon. There was no guarantee how long Vader would stay inside that temple, and they had to cut off his route of escape before the battle group arrived. It would be cutting it close, whatever way you looked at it.

0 ABY - the Temple's heart, Vrogas Vas, Outer Rim

Luke could understand where Aphra was coming from. She was running from the Empire; she had good reason to dislike one of its agents, and he wasn't naive - he knew very well the kind of life smugglers lived. It wasn't one which had much understanding of mercy. He'd been lucky to grow up as isolated as he had on Tatooine. In the cities violence became a reflex, one triggered by the least bit of a threat. He'd seen people come to blows over the price of a meal at the market. Not many were quite as bad as that man who had picked a fight with him in the Mos Eisley bar for no apparent reason - he had honestly not been expecting that - but although Aphra was closer in character to Han than that guy, he didn't kid himself. Han had killed people before, when he'd needed to.

Only… it didn't have to be like that. Tatooine was the way it was because of the Hutts, but there were plenty of worlds out there where things were different. And Ezra might be an Inquisitor, a Sith, an Imperial, but Luke had seen something more complicated than that in the temple visions. He didn't have to like it, but Ezra did have his reasons. He was still a person. One who had shown that he could be trusted at least a little.

Aphra didn't have any need to worry.

Besides, some part of Luke did have to be thankful to Ezra for showing him how to reach this place. The centre of the temple was… well, he didn't know what he had expected, but this place lived up to his highest hopes. The world felt… still. Peaceful. Calm. It made all his worries feel a little further away. Here, the Force seemed to say, anything is possible. Just relax and… be.

In the little room that Aphra had unlocked, that feeling seemed particularly concentrated. There were holocrons in here, and lightsabers, and datacards, and other things that were more mysterious; curls of beads, strange medallions, scraps of fabric that might have been part of clothing… All these things left behind by Jedi who were long gone. History stretching back… who knew how many years!

He missed Ben. Ben had been a real Jedi, not him. Ben would have known what to do with these artifacts. He would have known which ones were the most important, the most in need of saving. He would have known the meaning behind them.

Luke had known of Ben for what seemed like his whole life, but he had only known him so briefly… and yet it still hurt so much that he was gone. Ben had offered him… hope. Hope of something more than a life on Tatooine, hope of finding out more about his father, hope of making a difference in the galaxy.

He sighed, hanging his head. Ben was gone and nothing could bring him back. He had heard his voice, from time to time in the months after his death, but that hadn't happened for some while now. Maybe he should accept that that voice had only been what he wanted to hear, rather than something real.

Ben would have wanted him to become a Jedi in truth. He would have wanted him to kill Darth Vader, for all the evil he had brought into the world. He should focus on here and now, and do his best to make Ben proud.

Artoo nudged his leg, beeping quietly. Luke patted the little droid, smiling. "I'm alright Artoo," he said. "I just… needed a moment." Artoo warbled in reply. It was pretty soothing, Luke had to admit. He pushed what remained of his feelings away and went back through to the main chamber to check on Aphra's progress with the second door. She was kneeling next to it with her hands buried in a mess of wires, ignoring Ezra leaning against a nearby pillar and watching. So they could get on for five minutes without killing each other.

And then Ezra leapt bolt upright, looking towards the passage they had entered from with sheer terror on his face. A chill went through Luke, a biting cold, and a harsh and all too familiar rasping filled his ears. He turned.

Darth Vader was standing there - here, how can he be here, said the thought that flashed through Luke's mind - his lightsaber drawn, the noise of his respirator seeming to fill the entire room. The blank, insectile eyes of his mask were fixed on Luke and the weight of his attention was pushing down all around him in the Force, suffocating.

Behind him, the door Aphra had been working on slid open with a hiss. Luke faintly heard the sound of her getting to her feet, the noise of satisfaction she made, but he felt frozen in place, unable to turn to look at her or speak to warn her. Artoo had started beeping frantically, but his alerts were far too late.

"Aphra," Vader said, and… what? He knew her name? "You have a great deal to explain to me."

"Oh, hi boss," Aphra said brightly. She wasn't even really afraid that Luke could sense. More… confused. And resigned. "I absolutely can do that. You see, it's all to do with your ronto-headed Inquisitor here and his complete inability to follow orders. I was just trying to keep my cover intact."

She was… she was working for Vader? Luke was paralysed by the shock, both of Aphra's words and by the fact that Vader was actually standing in front of him. How had he known? How had he tracked Luke here? And Aphra… the Force had told him that she didn't mean him any harm! Except… except that not meaning any harm didn't mean that she had his best interests at heart. She had just been here to delay him, hadn't she! Stop him from finding out about the Jedi and make sure he stayed in one place for long enough for Vader to get here and kill him personally! He thought he might actually be sick. It felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He had trusted her - because of the Force, and because she reminded him of Han.

He unhooked his lightsaber from his belt. So Vader was here. Then it just meant they would have to fight sooner than Luke had planned. He might not have much chance of winning, but he still had to try. Perhaps he would get lucky. Besides, what were his other options? Just to give up and let Vader cut him down?

"Although I wasn't expecting you to show up so soon," Aphra continued.

"The Inspector is no longer of any concern," Vader told her, his helmet still turned in Luke's direction. It was impossible to tell just where he was looking behind the dark lenses, but Luke could still sense that he was watching him. But Vader's saber hadn't moved, and although the Dark Side was all around them like a thick blanket thrown over the world, heavy with a terrible anger, none of it seemed to be aimed at Luke. What was he waiting for? Did he want Luke to attack him first? "As for the Twelfth Brother…"

Vader's hand rose in that too-familiar gesture. Ezra let out a choked cry, and he was pulled forwards to hang in mid-air in front of the monstrous figure in black,, clawing at his throat. The fist tightened. "Let us see what you know," Vader said. Ezra's eyes went wide, and then rolled back in his head as he screamed - or tried to. The strangled noise that was all that managed to escape his throat was horrible to hear.

He couldn't just let this happen, Luke realised. Ezra had helped him, had gone against Vader's wishes to do so, and he didn't deserve any of this! He had to help! And what better time to make a move than when Vader was distracted?

His lightsaber ignited with a hiss and Luke leapt forwards, aiming straight at Vader's chest. For a moment he actually thought it might work, that Vader was too engaged in whatever he was doing to Ezra to notice, but almost faster than he could see it move the red blade snapped up and met his own with an angry buzz. Vader took a step back, letting Ezra drop so that he could face Luke properly.

"Do not be foolish, child," he said. Did that voice - distorted as it was by the vocoder - sound almost exasperated? "Do not attempt to fight me. The Force is with you, but you are not a Jedi yet."

"I don't care!" Luke yelled, trying another lunge. Vader batted it to one side with ease. "Do you think I'm just going to lie down and die?"

"That is the last thing I would expect from Skywalker's son."

"How dare you even say my father's name!" He wasn't thinking anymore; it didn't matter that he had promised himself he wouldn't react like this again, he couldn't stop himself. Not with Vader right in front of him. He could only attack, over and over again, even though Vader parried each and every one, barely seeming to move. "You don't have the right to say his name, you killed him!"

"I did not," Vader snapped, giving a sudden shove as their blades met again. Not expecting the strength behind it Luke staggered back, falling to the ground beside Ezra - who didn't seem to be conscious, but was at least still breathing. His lightsaber was knocked out of his hand, and then Aphra was there, kicking it away. Luke cursed, trying to scramble after it, but Aphra planted a boot against his shoulder and pushed him back.

"Aphra!" Vader growled. "The boy is mine."

"Apologies my lord," Aphra said, backing off and looking contrite. "I didn't mean to interfere."

"Obi-Wan lied to you," Vader said, addressing Luke again. "about many things."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Luke asked, slowly getting to his feet when it appeared Vader wasn't about to kill him immediately. "From you?"

"You have only to touch the Force to know that it is true."

Perhaps, but he had thought the same thing with Aphra. He'd thought she was telling the truth, because the Force told him her intentions were pure. And maybe to her they had been, but that hadn't stopped her being a liar, from betraying him. Yet he couldn't stop himself from reaching out. He didn't believe it, but some part of him however small wanted to know. The Dark Side was everywhere, like ice just under his skin, but he could still feel the Light Side, even if it seemed so very far away. And the Force itself was singing, all of it singing with an utter confusion of emotion that didn't seem to be coming from anyone here. It was as though the whole world held its breath.

"Then who did kill him?" Luke demanded. "One of your Inquisitors?"

"No," Vader said. "He still lives."

"You're lying!" But hope flickered inside Luke's chest, even though he knew, he knew, it couldn't be true. If it was, where had his father been all these years? What reason could Ben have had not to tell him the truth? His father was dead, as much as every part of him wished he wasn't.

"Luke," Vader said, slowly, as though hesitating. "I am your father."

"Holy Sith!" Aphra yelped, although Luke barely heard her or Artoo's accompanying beeps of shock over the roaring in his ears.

"No," he said, pleading against the way that the Force itself was crying out in joy, in triumph, in love and pain and a reflection of his own horror. "No. That's not true. That's impossible."

Vader said nothing. He didn't have to. Not when what the Force was telling him was so inescapable.

Luke's eyes burned, and all the strength seemed to have gone out of him. He knew he was crying, but he couldn't seem to stop. He sank to his knees - it was all he could do not to fall over. How…? How could this be true? His father had been a hero, he had been Ben's friend - that's what the old man had told him. But he had lied about his father's death, so who knew what else he might have lied about? Why had he done it? How could Ben have let him find out like this?

Or perhaps he had been hoping that Luke would never find out. Had Ben wanted him to kill his own father? Without knowing it? He was going to be sick… no, no he wouldn't let himself. He was stronger than this, he was, he was going to face the truth, not hide from it! But right now… right now he couldn't even look at Vader, his… his father…

Out of every sentient being in the galaxy, why did it have to be Vader? The monster, the durasteel fist of the Empire, the Emperor's right hand, the executioner… his aunt and uncle had died on his own father's orders… did Vader even know? Had he even cared? He had murdered them, he had tortured Princess Leia personally, he had killed so many of the Rebellion's fighters as they attempted to run the Death Star's trenches including Biggs, Luke's best friend.

And he would have killed Luke there too, if it hadn't been for Han. Just as he would have killed him on Cymoon I not so long ago. So what had changed?

Or… had he somehow not known?

What… what if his father hadn't known? Didn't that make the only sense? Why else show him mercy now when it had always been lacking before.

"Luke," Vader said, holding out his hand. "It is time to accept the destiny that Kenobi hid from you. I will teach you the ways of the Dark Side and together we will defeat the Emperor, and rule the galaxy as father and son."

"That is not my destiny," Luke gasped, fighting the tightness in his throat that threatened to make his voice crack and waver. "I want nothing to do with the Dark Side! I will not become a Sith!"

"You do not have a choice, child. Without the strength of the Dark Side it is impossible to defeat the Emperor."

"So why haven't you killed him if that's true?" Luke spat. He felt his father hesitate.

"I cannot do it alone," Vader said.

Did his father really think this was what he wanted? Power? He wanted the Emperor gone, yes, but not so that he could rule in his place! He was fighting because of what the Empire did to people and planets across the galaxy every day. He was fighting because of what the Sith had done to his parents… or… what he'd thought they had done. Luke felt as though the bedrock of his foundations had been washed out from underneath him. Suddenly everything that spun off from that truth seemed on shaky ground.

No. No, just think about it for longer than a second. Just because his father was alive and was the figure he had feared and hated, that did not change anything Vader had done, or that the Empire had done. All of it, it was still wrong. But he knew now that there was no way he would ever be able to kill Vader. He… he no longer wanted to.

"And if I still refuse to become a Sith?" he asked.

Vader snarled. "Then the moment Sidious learns of your existence you will die!"

It was almost impossible to get any sense of his father through the Force - when Luke tried reaching out all he could feel was a vast and raging emptiness like looking into a Dune Seas sandstorm - and yet… it was almost as though he could feel fear. Was that actually real, or simply his imagination? If his father was offering this, even if Luke didn't want it, didn't that mean he had to care for him in some way? If Luke didn't mean anything to him, then surely he would have killed him by now - wasn't Luke a Rebel, hadn't he destroyed the Death Star?

"There has to be another way," he said quietly.

"There is not," Vader said. "You must come with me. Now."

Luke hung his head. He was too tired to argue. Maybe later he would be able to fight again, would be able to persuade his father of… of something. But right now, he was alone, without any allies, and with no-one coming to save him. There wasn't any way to escape. Vader was right - one way or another, he would be going with him. Might as well do it on his own feet.

"Yes," he said.

The Skywalker kid was... what? Aphra could barely believe it. After all that nonsense with getting into the heart of the temple it had been practically a relief to see Lord Vader, even if she had really been hoping he would never actually find out about this whole mess. But then he went and said something like that? How was that even possible? Vader, have a child? He didn't seem the type. But then what did she or anyone really know about who he had been before the Empire? She had done her research - of course she had, she'd been about to start working for the guy - and Darth Vader had simply appeared as the Emperor's right hand not long after the Jedi Purges. It was common knowledge that he had been injured in the Emperor's service severely enough to need the life-support in his suit, but no-one knew how, or when, or who he had been before that. There was no mention of a Darth Vader in the records of the Old Republic.

Skywalker had said his father had been a Jedi. Was that true, or just something he had been told - probably by this 'Obi-Wan Kenobi' who Vader seemed so angry about.

And as for the kid himself… he wasn't exactly taking this well. In fact that was putting it mildly, not that Aphra could really blame him. This was one kriffing hell of a truth to find out about, and he was a Rebel. Which meant, an idealist with all sorts of ridiculous notions about how the galaxy should be run, barely in touch with the real world. Luke and Vader couldn't be more different. And clearly Luke hadn't had the faintest idea about who his father really was before this moment. Hell, he'd grown up on Tatooine hadn't he, and it would be difficult to find a place any further from the bright heart of Imperial power. So what was behind all that? Something to do with the Jedi, it seemed. Had they stolen the boy, kidnapped him when he was young, taken him to turn into one of their weapons?

If the stories about them had anything to say about it, it seemed more than possible.

A lot of things were falling into place now. Finding Skywalker… it had never been about the prestige of capturing or killing the pilot who destroyed the Death Star at all. It had been about finding Vader's son! And as she listened to Lord Vader's words, Aphra couldn't help but be even more impressed at the audacity of it all. Overthrowing the Emperor, taking his place… she had known that she'd been drawn into something big but even at her most imaginative she hadn't thought it would be a plan as ambitious as this!

Gradually Skywalker - or perhaps she should be thinking of him as Vader Junior? - seemed to be coming around to accepting the truth. He no longer looked as though he was about to keel over at any second. No, there was that stubbornness appearing again that had been giving her so much trouble. The fire was coming back into his eyes - just embers for now, but Aphra was sure he would be back to his usual infuriating self soon enough.

Hah! Let his father deal with that from now on - it should be entertaining to watch! She wouldn't have to worry about it any more.

Luke got to his feet with the controlled breathing of someone trying to keep his emotions under wraps. He looked down at the Inquisitor, still lying where Vader had dropped him - and still alive from the looks of things.

"What are you going to do with him?" the kid asked quietly.

"He has acted very foolishly," Lord Vader replied. Aphra certainly agreed with that statement - and she had warned him. Maybe now they could actually kill the brat and be done with it.

"Don't," Luke said. "Don't kill him. Please."

It must have been the 'please' that did it. Lord Vader said nothing for a moment, although his vocoder did make a crackling noise that might have been the machine's attempt at translating a sigh. Then he nudged Bridger's prone body with his boot, eliciting a groan.

The Inquisitor opened his eyes, looked around blearily, and finally managed to drag himself upright enough to get into some strange position of respect - down on one knee with his right hand fisted over his heart. "Master… I…"

"I am not interested in your excuses," Vader said. "Do not think I am sparing your life because of mercy. I expect you to continue to be useful to me."

Bridger nodded, keeping his eyes down.

"You may rise."

Ezra did so, coughing a little and putting one hand to his throat. Aphra couldn't help feeling just a bit sympathetic - she remembered how much that choke hurt. Vader turned to leave, putting one hand firmly on Skywalker's shoulder to chivy him along, but the Inquisitor hesitated.

"Master…" he said - further proof in any had been needed that he wasn't the brightest bulb on the dashboard. "There's something you should see in that room."

However, Lord Vader must have decided that Bridger had enough of a survival instinct remaining not to trouble him with something of complete unimportance. Silently, he let go of Luke's shoulder and swept into the small chamber. Aphra couldn't see exactly what he was doing in there, but when he reappeared he was holding something in his hand - a little cube which seemed to be made out of some sort of dark crystal, surrounded by metal filigree. A Jedi artefact? It quickly disappeared into one of Vader's belt pouches.

"Now," Vader said in a tone that did not allow for any argument, "we are leaving."

Ezra regained consciousness slowly and uncomfortably. His head was pounding, his throat hurt, and so did the rest of him for that matter. It took a moment to remember where he was and what had been happening, but the moment he did he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Lord Vader. Vader was here. The traces of him still felt adhered to the inside of Ezra's skull where he had forced his way inside looking for answers. Even thinking felt raw and painful. The memories had been pulled out to the front of his mind, flicked through like a deck of Sabacc cards. Had he seen it all… including all the visions of the temple? It was difficult to be sure.

Ezra reached out to the Force, not quite feeling up to either moving or opening his eyes. Darth Vader's vast Force-presence was still nearby, a dark supernova of cold flame that surrounded the spitting, fierce light that was Luke.

Luke! Karabas. There were only two ways this could go, and Ezra knew which one he was expecting. He'd grown fond of the padawan, although he really shouldn't have. It was a pity he would be dead soon. Except… except that didn't seem to be happening. Instead they were… talking?

Ezra focused, forcing his tired mind to pay attention to the actual words just in time to hear… what?

"I am your father," Lord Vader said, and the Force rang with the truth of it.

How? Luke had told him who his father was and that was Anakin Skywalker - and that had been just as much the truth in the Force. The same Anakin Skywalker, Ezra thought with dawning horror, who had gone missing at the end of the Clone Wars. Kanan had told him that, told him that it was assumed he'd died defending the Temple. But… the last vision that he and Luke had seen had implied that Skywalker had died on Mustafar. Mustafar, a planet so steeped in the Dark Side… Not to mention that Darth Vader had first appeared not long after the Empire's founding, and no-one knew from where. Could that mean… could the two really be one and the same?

Of course Jedi could become Sith, that wasn't in doubt, but… it seemed so unlikely that a Clone Wars General, a Republic hero, could be a Sith Lord. Yet hadn't he wondered how a Jedi, with all their poisonous philosophy, could have had a child in the first place? Wouldn't it make sense that such a Jedi hadn't been a real Jedi at all?

And if that was the case, then for how long? How long had Darth Vader been keeping up the pretense of the loyal Jedi? Had he been their spy inside the Order, the one who informed Lord Sidious of the plot against him? How horrible that must have been, to mouth their platitudes and wait for the day that the Sith could achieve ascendancy once again! And Luke… Luke who should have been raised into the Inquisitorius… the Jedi must have learned about his existence. That explained the vision of Mustafar at least a little. Kenobi had learned the truth, had gone to Mustafar to find Luke's mother, lied to her about Skywalker's death, and spirited them away!

Ezra's head ached even more, his thoughts whirling as he put it all together. Wouldn't that have been just like a Jedi - they were well acquainted with stealing children! But now it would be alright, everything would be fixed. Luke would be taught the ways of the Dark Side, he would become a Lord of the Sith like his father and… to go by what Lord Vader was now saying - although Ezra's perception of the world still seemed to dissolve into white noise half the time - they would follow the old tradition and overthrow the Emperor.

There could be many Inquisitors, many potentials, many lesser Sith, but there could only be two Lords. The Master and the Apprentice. And having felt the strength of Luke in the Force, Ezra had no doubt that together, the Skywalkers would be able to do it.

Luke was no Tarkin, no Kallus. He would be good for this galaxy, Ezra knew it. It was… just a pity he wouldn't be around to see it. He had only been following his instincts and the Force, but he had still led Lord Vader's son into danger. Darth Vader was not a forgiving man - there was no room for mercy on the thousand battlefields of the Empire. He had killed officers for a lot less.

They were talking about him, he realised. Luke was… he was asking his father to spare Ezra's life. He hadn't thought Luke liked him that much. He was an Imperial, and the Jedi had brainwashed Luke to hate the Empire. Why wouldn't he want an Inquisitor dead? Still, there was no way Lord Vader would grant that request. Except…

A heavy durasteel boot nudged him in the ribs. Ezra winced involuntarily, and then opened his eyes. The game was up; Lord Vader knew he was awake now and probably had before. He still hurt all over, but he managed to drag himself up onto his knees and into a position of appropriate respect. He wasn't going to assume that he was safe quite yet, and if he was going to die he could at least do so with some dignity.

"Master…" he said, the words scraping his throat raw. "I…"

"I am not interested in your excuses," Lord Vader said. The emanations of his cold, controlled anger were grinding against the tattered remnants of Ezra's mental shields, even though they weren't being directed at him personally. "Do not think I am sparing your life because of mercy. I expect you to continue to be useful to me."

Ezra nodded, keeping his eyes down.

"You may rise."

Maybe he really would survive today. Wouldn't that be something.

A random drift of thought - or perhaps a tendril of the Force working its way into his unprotected mind - made him remember what he had been so focused on before Lord Vader arrived. It… wouldn't be wise to bring it up surely, not when Vader was so angry at him but… it was important. If that was a Sith artefact in there… Lord Vader seemed to be willing to at least humour him that far, and swept past him into the little room. After scant moments he reappeared with a holocron - one made of dark crystal and steeped in the particular feel of the Dark Side.

He had been right! A small victory at least, in this otherwise terrible day.

"Now," Lord Vader said, "we are leaving."

There were no more visions to trouble their trek back through the temple corridors. The Light Side hung back, a watchful presence, but it made no move towards them. It had fulfilled its task, and presumably the Jedi of old had given it no instructions about those who were on their way out. Good. Ezra didn't think he could take anything else happening today!

So of course, because the universe took that sort of statement as a challenge, when they finally came out into the wan light of this world's sun there were two strangers standing next to Aphra's freighter who definitely shouldn't have been there.

"Leia! Han!" Luke shouted in alarm.

"Princess," Lord Vader said with a satisfied growl. "What a pleasure to see you here."