A month later...

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said wearily, entering the cheap hotel room they were renting with a bag full of Chinese food. Not the fake American Chinese food, but the real stuff. They were currently in China, in Shezhen, not far from Hong Kong, and just like everywhere else they'd randomly searched after Anakin had…lost his Force connection with his son, they'd found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even even a trace of Luke. "We need to go home. Our families need us. The Order needs us."

Anakin stiffened, his hand pausing over Artoo, who had been projecting possible governments who would be working with Palpatine. It was all speculation, and Anakin didn't know how to go about proving any of it, but it still made him feel like he was doing something rather than just wandering aimlessly in the direction he had last felt his son's presence coming from. Over the last few days, he had felt Obi-Wan grow restless, and Anakin had begun to suspect that Obi-Wan would say this eventually. "No," He said, running a tired hand over his face, where a beard had begun to grow in from not having shaved since the whole ordeal started. "We haven't found him yet."

"I know." Obi-Wan said quietly as he set the food on the table and sat down on the other twin-sized bed in the room, facing Anakin with a look on his face that said he was mentally preparing to push the issue, regardless of whatever backlash Anakin would give. "But we aren't getting anywhere with this search like this. Wandering around aimlessly isn't going to help Luke, and it's not going to help the rest of your family either. Think about Padme and Leia and little Hayden. They need you, too."

Sheer stubbornness made him shake his head, even as the Force whispered the truth of Obi-Wan's words to him. "You don't know that, Obi-Wan!" His voice was harsher than he meant it to be, but he had barely slept, and when he had slept, it had been full of useless, pointless dreams. Usually, Anakin preferred those dreams to Force-visions, but with Luke out there, he wanted, no, needed some clue as to where to look for his little boy.

"But I do, and I suspect you know that, too." Obi-Wan didn't take offense to his tone. "I'm not saying that we're giving up searching for him. We can still have our Jedi looking for him, and we can try to find and research clues from home, but the rest of your family needs you, Anakin."

That did give Anakin pause. He had spoken to his wife every day since he'd left, just as he'd promised. He didn't have to be physically with her to know that the stress of losing their son was far worse than the stress her wounds were giving her. With Vokara supervising her injuries, Padme had recovered enough to return home, though she had been ordered to strict bed rest for another month. On top of that, she was still recovering from childbirth. Her mother and his mother were still there, taking care of the kids, but each time he spoke to Padme, she seemed to be more and more depressed, more and more withdrawn - even with him, something neither his mother nor her mother could even begin to remedy. Now, more than ever, his wife needed him at home, but both of their desire for their son's safe return home tore at that need, making Anakin reluctant to pay it any real attention to it.

And, then there was Leia. He tried to talk to her, but he hadn't been the only one who had felt his Force-Bond with Luke snap. She had felt it, too—when he woke up on the plane two hours after he'd blacked out and realized the implications of what had just happened, he had pulled his phone out to call his mother, only to find his mother had frantically called him about ten times already. Leia had had a complete and total meltdown when she'd felt it, and his daughter hadn't been the same since. When he talked to her, she was distant, quiet, refused to smile, and was completely unlike herself.

He missed little Hayden as well. He was almost two months old now, and he hated that he'd missed the last four weeks with him. He wanted to be there for his newborn son, watching him grow, helping taking care of him, and getting to know him, but Hayden was also still young enough that he likely wasn't too affected by the absence of his father.

Or, so Anakin hoped.

Of course, this was also extremely hard on their parents. The Amidala's and the Lars' were devoted parents and grandparents, and the stress of Luke's kidnapping, Padme's brush with death, and Leia's continuing distress was aging them all...quickly. Ruwee had stayed for two weeks before having to go back to California, and Cliegg had flown down from Idaho for the last two weeks to help his own wife and Jobal with the kids, but he had to go back tomorrow to help Owen with the ranch.

Anakin sighed.

Then, there was his work. NASA had expressed their sympathies and understanding, and Anakin wasn't really concerned with losing his job necessarily. After all, he still co-owned the droid company and had plenty of income from just that. However, even if he wasn't with NASA, he did have the responsibility to work to provide for his family still, and the Jedi Order, and…

But Luke was still missing, and worse, in the hands of Palpatine now. Just the thought was enough to drive Anakin nearly mad. As Vader, he had hunted Luke relentlessly throughout the galaxy, but as Luke was a grown adult man then, there were times when he sent others to look for his son in his stead. He had desperately wanted to bring Luke to his side, but he had also recognized that he'd had time to do so. This Luke, however, was barely eight years old, and still so innocent.

Or, he had been. He might not be now.

"I can't…I can't give up." Anakin said, though he wasn't so firm this time. He couldn't help but allow the conflict, the pain of losing his son echo in his voice. He put his face in his hands, the decision tearing him up inside. Artoo beeped softly, sadly, swiveling his dome to look back in Obi-Wan's direction. He could feel Obi-Wan's worry, not only for Anakin, but for Luke through his connection with him in the Force.

"I won't pretend to understand what you're feeling," Obi-Wan said quietly, "But, without any clues…this could take years, Anakin. I know this is only one planet, and not even the biggest planet that we've been on, but there are literally billions of hiding places on Earth, and you heard Grievous yourself. Palatine is always on the move. Look, I know...I believe...we will find him, but are you really prepared to separate yourself so completely like this from the rest of your family for years on end? Anakin...think what that would do…to your wife, to your marriage, not to mention Leia and Hayden. You missed out on raising your kids once before. Do you really want to miss that opportunity again?"

Anakin's first reaction was to reject that idea. He couldn't fathom not finding Luke for that long, of knowing that he was in Palpatine's clutches that whole time. "You don't know that it will take that long." Anakin said softly, but there was no fire to it. He knew Obi-Wan had made his point and that his best friend was right, and he hated it.

"It might not, no." Obi-Wan agreed gently, "But, what if it does?"

Anakin was silent for a long time, warring with himself. Finally, Anakin sighed. "Artoo." The droid beeped an affirmative, "Send a mass message to every Jedi on Earth." Artoo began to set the message up without question.

"What are you going to do?" Obi-Wan warily asked.

"I'm going to have the Order look for Luke and Palpatine." Anakin replied honestly, his voice bitter. "I want daily updates. I don't care how insignificant they are. I want them. If there is even a slight chance that they may have found a clue, I will not debate what to do about it, I will go after that clue myself." He glanced at Obi-Wan sternly, as if challenging him to argue.

Obi-Wan didn't seem to desire that though. "You have my support, my friend," He said firmly, and Anakin could feel him reinforce that through their bond. "And, if you go after a clue, I will come with you to help." He paused. "I'm sure Ahsoka wouldn't mind giving her help as well, or Galen for that matter."

Artoo beeped that he was ready to record the message, but before he began, Anakin looked up at his friend. "Thank you." He said, his voice raw. He knew that this was a sacrifice on Obi-Wan's part as well. He had a family now himself to provide for and protect, but he still was out here by Anakin's side, keeping him as grounded as he could.

Obi-Wan nodded, a sad smile on his face. "You're my brother, Anakin. You don't even need to ask."


He stopped just outside of his home, staring at it. It was sunset, and he and Obi-Wan had just landed the plane on their private runway. He had his carry on bag slung over his shoulder, and Artoo stopped next to him, beeping a question. "I'll…" he hesitated, staring at the home. He could feel his wife in there, Hayden, Leia, his mom, Jobal… As soon as he walked in that door, he needed to be their pillar of strength. He would need to answer questions that he didn't want to answer, and though his home was full of people he loved dearly, without Luke there, it felt…empty.

He didn't want to face any of that. Not just yet.

"I'll be in, in a moment, Artoo," He promised softly, and though Artoo hesitated, he twittered and beeped and wheeled himself up the driveway and toward the front door of the house. Meanwhile, Anakin turned, heading towards the back of the house, where his personal workshop was, his strides long and determined. He needed…he needed to do something. He was half tempted to go back to the plane and go back out and search, but he'd already told Padme he would be coming home. The pain in her eyes, but the acceptance of the fact that Luke wasn't going to be with him tore him apart. Now that he was actually home, and for the moment by himself…

He slammed the doors open to the darkened workshop. He turned the light on, using the Force to shut the doors behind him. The shop was littered with tools, half-done projects, and various schematics. Padme had been ecstatic that he'd built himself an actual space where he could tinker, instead of taking up the garage to do so. Sometimes, he'd work on projects while Luke watched and asked questions. Anakin had lived for those afternoons. His son, expressing interest in something that he himself loved…

Now, with Threepio carefully placed by someone on his worktable, he felt the weight of loneliness settle over the workspace. Maybe he shouldn't have come out here just yet. Then again, everything he would see would remind him of his son. He'd taken his son literally everywhere. His son had merely been happy to tag along with his dad, even if there wasn't much for him to do. Leia would complain and throw a fit, but never Luke. Luke was his buddy, as much as his son. Until he found Luke, he'd just have to get used to everything reminding him of his son.

He approached the workbench, setting his carry on bag down beside the table, staring at the lifeless protocol droid. Carefully, he picked up Threepio's head and examined it. He immediately saw where he would need to make adjustments and replacements to fix the droid. It wasn't a hard fix at all. Perhaps, if he focused on that for a while, he might be distracted enough to calm down and head inside the house.

That had been his exact same reasoning behind going to fix the Lars' bike after his mother's death in their old galaxy, too. He usually felt calmer after tinkering on machines.

It hadn't worked then though, and it didn't work now.

Though he tried to focus on fixing Threepio, he found his thoughts wandering back to Luke. He remembered holding Luke as a baby. He'd been so small, so innocent, and yet so vibrant within the Force. He remembered when Luke lost his first tooth after Leia had accidentally knocked him face-first onto the train set Anakin had built for him. Anakin had expected him to be upset with Leia, but he thought it was so cool that he'd lost his tooth, he practically forgot that it was Leia who had pushed him in the first place.

He remembered taking Luke to Disneyland. He'd ridden on his shoulders, his tiny fists clenched in Anakin's hair, staring in wonder at everything they saw. While Leia had been begging them to do everything, Anakin was sure Luke would have been content to just watch everything, memorizing it. He remembered Luke and Leia playing with the plastic lightsabers he'd given them. Luke was the only one who had later actually asked Anakin to show him how to properly use it. Leia liked to hit things with hers, but she didn't have the same fascination with it as Luke did.

Luke was different than his sister, and his upbringing so far had been vastly different than before. However, Luke was still the same Luke he had known in his previous life, the same Luke who had saved him from the Dark Side.

The Dark Side now had his son.

Would he now have to save Luke from it? A role reversal? Or would Luke resist it? If he resisted it, Palpatine would grow impatient, and would likely kill him. Anakin didn't want Luke to succumb to the Dark Side either, though. He remembered, as Vader, after so many years of serving the Emperor, looking back at the moment he had burned, left alone by Obi-Wan. He had fervently wished that Obi-Wan had just finished it and killed him: He remembered thinking that death was better than the suffering that the Dark Side had brought him. But, as a father, he didn't want to lose his son to death either.

Breathing hard, Anakin set Threepio's head back down on the table, leaning against the frame, his entire body shaking. He felt….rage. Rage the likes of which he had not felt in years, not since before he'd given up the Dark Side. How dare Palpatine hurt his son? How dare he even look at him? Luke was too good, too precious, but also too powerful for a man like Palpatine to ignore.

The guilt he felt was eating him alive. Anakin should have paid more attention. He should have posted guards at the house. He should have put more emphasis on his son's Jedi training, he should have insisted that it was just as, if not more so, important than his regular school work. He should have…

But, he hadn't. He'd failed. He'd failed as a father, as a husband, as a Jedi…He'd failed. Again.

His hands clenched into fists, the rage consuming him, and as he did so, the Force seemed to…not lash out, but more like seep out of his control. The windows of the shop cracked. The tools on the wall shook and tumbled to the floor with a clatter. Unimportant, half-finished projects crumpled like paper. The lights in the room broke, raining down shards of glass, and he was left in the darkness. He wanted to scream. To throw something. He wanted to fully let go and see where his rage got him.

But, he already knew the answer to that. His rage, though powerful, would only make things worse. With his family in the house, not that far away….

All of a sudden, the rage drained from him, leaving a numbing despair in its wake that left him a mere shell of a man. He sank to the floor, tears finally spilling over onto his cheeks. He brought his knees up to his chest, burying his face against them. How could he have accomplished so much, and yet achieved so little? Now, his family would suffer for his arrogance, just as they always had.

He didn't know how long he sat there, acting anything but how the normal Anakin Skywalker would act, but eventually he was aware of the door to his workshop creaking open, and he was washed with the presence of his daughter.

Leia.

She stayed at the door, uncertain, as he quickly tried to wipe the tears from his face. "Daddy?" She whispered, her voice hesitant.

"Hey, Leia." He tried to sound normal, but his voice cracked when he said her name. "There's broken glass in here. Don't come in."

"It's okay, Daddy," she said softly. "I put on my shoes." He opened his mouth to protest further, but he could feel (and hear) her coming towards him slowly in the darkness.

She reached him, a shadow in the darkness of the room. "Daddy?" She whispered.

"Yes, Princess?" he asked.

"Can I sit on your lap?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, and shifted position. "Of course, Sweetie." Immediately, she found his lap and sat down, her weight pressing against him, and as soon as she was settled, he could feel her reaching through the Force to examine him. He tried to throw up a shield to protect her from the worst of his turmoil, but she wasn't fooled.

"I'm really sad too, Daddy," She whispered, her voice raw with emotion, and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his neck. "I want Luke to come home, too."

His heart lurched, and for a moment, he was unable to speak. "I'm sorry, Leia," He managed to choke out, knowing that it didn't help at all. Sorry didn't change things. "I haven't given up."

"I know, Daddy," She said, and she pulled away suddenly. In the dim moonlight that filtered through the window, he could see her staring at him intently. "He's alive. I feel it."

Anakin frowned, puzzled. She had also lost her bond to Luke. She shouldn't have been able to feel him at all. "How is that possible, Princess?" He asked, curious.

She shrugged her shoulders. "We always used the Force to talk to each other. He'd always use the Force to find me." She paused, taking a shuddering breath. "I don't know why, but there's something else between us. I can't feel him like I do with the Force, but I do know enough to know he's alive. If he was gone…I'd feel it."

It struck him then, what she was saying. They were twins. Their bond went beyond the Force, beyond mere blood. They were each other's other half. He'd heard stories of twins raised apart that led eerily similar lives, or twins who got sick at the same time. Even without the Force, twins were special. It wasn't the type of bond that could ever be broken, but it was also not the type of bond that could be used to track him down. If he died, it was very likely that Leia would know it. That gave Anakin hope.

At least Luke was alive. For now.

There was a silence, and then, "I want to be a Jedi."

Anakin frowned. Leia had always liked to use the Force, but anytime he had tried to formally train her, she hadn't shown much interest. Unlike Luke, she had taken a keen interest in regular school, and Anakin had wondered if she would ever want to train with him, or would follow her mother's path like she had in their old galaxy and do something with the law or politics. He had thought about trying to convince her to do both, but… "Why?" He asked, surprised.

Leia looked down, and he thought he saw a hint of a frown. "I want to help you and Mommy find Luke." She said honestly. "But, you won't let me if I'm not a Jedi."

That wasn't strictly the reason. She was a child, and with Luke gone, he wasn't anxious to put her in danger. Furthermore, he wanted Luke back well before she was old enough to help them search, though he knew there was a possibility that might not happen. However, if he trained her, the likelihood of her getting hurt or taken was significantly diminished. At the end of the day, he would have gladly trained her anyway. She was his daughter, and just as strong as Luke in the Force. Though Anakin hated that Luke was taken, he was grateful that Leia hadn't been taken as well. He didn't think he could have survived his twins being taken, or Force forbid, all three of his kids being kidnapped.

"I'll train you, Princess," He promised quietly. "And Luke will come home someday. You'll see."

Leia nodded and hugged him again. "I know, Daddy."


Anakin entered his bedroom quietly, trying not to wake his wife. He could sense good old Jedi, who was resting in his dog bed next to the fireplace in the seating area of their master suite. He felt the dog look up from his spot, but other than a thumping tail wag, he didn't move. His injuries, combined with the dog's older age, discouraged him from jumping all over Anakin like he used to. With a pang in his chest, Anakin realized that he sort of missed that, even if it had driven him crazy at first.

He softly set his bag down on the floor, resolving to put it away in the morning, and made his way over to the bed. "Ani?" A soft voice asked, and Anakin sighed, knowing that his efforts to keep her from waking were in vain.

"Hi, Angel," He said, sitting down on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

She sat up a little, her movements slow and careful, her expression unreadable in the darkness. "I've been better," She remarked dryly. "Vokara says I should be up and walking around soon though."

That did please him. He had been incredibly lucky that he hadn't lost both Luke and Padme that terrible night. To see that at least she was getting better took some of the stress off of his shoulders. Silence elapsed between them. Padme was well aware that Anakin had not found Luke, so she didn't bother to ask.

Still. He could feel her pain radiating through the Force. "Padme," He said softly, but firmly.

Her gaze never left him. "Yes, Ani?"

"I meant what I said. I will bring him home." He waited, watching as she closed her eyes, and a fresh wave of sadness washed over her. There was no blame however, even if he thought she should have blamed him. "I know." She said, opening her eyes to meet his once more.

He hesitated. "It's not just me saying it because that's what I…what we want. He will come home." Again, a hesitation. What he was about to say…it was never said lightly. Anyone who knew about the Force knew this. "I swear on the Force, I will find him and bring him home, whether that be tomorrow, or even years from now."

Padme drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening. Force promises were not to be taken lightly. Sure enough, as he said those words, the Force responded to him, swelling within him, as if the Force itself were holding him to that promise. He winced—he'd never done this before. Most Jedi didn't, or even Sith, for that matter. The consequences of not following through on that promise were not well-documented, so Force-users avoided it whenever they could. "Ani…are you sure you want to swear on that?" There was grave seriousness in his wife's voice.

"If there was ever a time for it, it would be now." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've got Jedi looking for him all over the world, Angel. If they stumble on anything, even the smallest clue, they will send that to me in their daily report, and I'll go to investigate."

Padme considered that for a moment before nodding. "Alright. I'll go with you."

Now that made Anakin hesitate. "You're in no condition to be traveling, much less going on missions, Sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't say right now. Obviously when I'm well enough."

"Okay, point taken." Still, he didn't like the idea of putting his wife in potential danger, but he also didn't have a right to stop her from helping to look for their son. He'd rather her do that with him than without him.

"What about the kids?"

"Leia is old enough to seriously begin Jedi training. She's told me she wants to, and she's very determined about it."

"I know." He smiled softly, sadly.

"And, Hayden…one of the Jedi could watch him, or we could take him with us, and if it gets too dangerous, I'll bring him home with me." She paused. "I just don't want to sit here waiting and wondering and worrying about what you're going to say when you call. This month has been absolute torture for me, and I just can't do potentially years more of it."

Anakin still wasn't sure he liked the idea, but they had time to work it out. He lay down next to her, his hand resting gently on her hip. He sighed. "We'll work it out, Angel." He said, the exhaustion of the last month suddenly hitting him hard.

"I know." She placed her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, turning to place a gentle kiss on her palm, then closing his eyes. "We'll find him."

He didn't know how, or when, but he knew that much. Somehow, someway, they would get through this, and emerge from it a stronger family. "I know."


His dreams were full of flying through the stars. Artoo was in the copilot's port, whistling and chittering happily as he gently guided the ship past unknown planets and nebulae, suns and moons. The craft he was in was sort of like a one-man airplane, though sometimes he would press a button and the wings would shift into an 'X' shape.

He felt free. He was in control. As long as he could fly, he could do anything.

Soon, though, the dreams began to fade, and he was floating in darkness. Wake up, someone was saying. It was a familiar voice, but he couldn't put a finger on whose it was. Wake up, Luke. Slowly, the darkness began to fade, replaced by a blinding white light. He squinted painfully, trying to adjust his eyesight. It took a while, but he eventually managed to clear his vision and finally see around him.

He was in a clean, white room. He lay on a large, comfortable bed, alone. He wore a plain blue shirt, and black sweats. Next to him, on the side table, were his old pajamas, folded neatly, though they were still coated in dirt. He was hooked up to some machines of some sort, machines he didn't recognize. Slowly, he sat up, frowning as he looked around the room. He didn't remember how he'd gotten there, or where he was, or why he was even there. As he tried to think back, a sudden wave of pain hit his head, and he gasped, reaching up to gingerly touch his forehead.

With the pain beginning to fade, he decided to try to remember once the throbbing in his head stopped, and he reached over to his pajamas to try to figure out if he could come up with answers just by examining them. They were filthy, covered in blood, and they smelled…His hands found his shirt pocket, feeling the lump inside of it. Frowning, he reached in and pulled out…

His mother's necklace.

A memory flashed. His mother, in danger. A man stood there, wearing a black mask, holding her, a lightsaber to her neck. Luke had a gun, a gun that he'd found in his mother's drawer. He tried to shoot the man threatening his mom, but he hit his mom instead…

The man had left. He had knelt by his mom's side, her blood all over him, all over the clothes he now held in his hands, and watched helplessly as she'd died. She'd stared at him, and the look in her eyes as she'd faded away held fear, and blame. This had happened because of him, and they'd both known it.

The memory sent a fresh wave of agony, both through his head, but mostly through his heart. As if the clothes were on fire, he threw them across the room, breathing hard, shaking, and he moved to throw the necklace…But, something stopped him. He lowered his arm, looking down at the small pendant in his hand. This was his last connection to his mother. His mother had always been kind to him, had always loved him. And, his father…

Another wave of fresh pain as he struggled to remember his father. He groaned, leaning back in the bed, clutching the necklace in his fist. Whatever had happened, he'd seriously gotten a knock to the head. Suddenly, the door opened and in stepped a nurse. She didn't smile as she approached him, going straight to the machines. Luke debated on asking her to see if she knew what was going on, but another figure entered the room that froze the question on his tongue.

An older man.

Luke frowned, studying him, even as the man smiled at him warmly and came to stop at the foot of his bed. He was…familiar somehow, though Luke couldn't place him. He had thick white hair that had a tendency to stick up in random places, making his head look almost angular. He had pale skin, and while the nurse next to him was Asian, this man looked like he was American. "Good afternoon, Luke." He said, his voice warm, and he smiled…but the smile didn't touch his icy blue eyes.

For a moment, Luke just stared uncertainly. "Wh—Who are you?" He managed to stammer, his voice croaking so that it didn't sound like himself.

The man sighed. "It figures you wouldn't remember your rescuer. You went through quite an ordeal." He shook his head, and before Luke could ask what he meant, he continued. "I am Palpatine. I used to serve in the United States Senate, before your father framed me for his own corruption."

Now, Luke was really confused. He tried to think back, to remember if his father had ever mentioned this man before, but once again he was hit with pain. He hissed, reaching up with his free hand to gingerly touch his head. "Why…What's happened to me?" Figure that out first, then figure out what exactly this man was to him.

A sad expression passed over the man's face, and he glanced at the nurse. He said something in a strange language, and the woman abruptly stopped what she was doing and left the room without another word. Once she was gone, the man sat down on the edge of Luke's bed, his body tight, as if he were expecting Luke to turn on him in an instant. "What do you remember, Luke?" Palpatine asked, and something strange passed through his expression.

Luke hesitated. "Every time I try to remember, it hurts."

Palpatine nodded as if he expected this. "The doctors said it would be a side effect of what happened to you, but you should be able to remember if you concentrate." Luke didn't know why the man didn't just tell him. He debated arguing, but something about the man told Luke that he wouldn't appreciate that. So, hesitantly, Luke forced himself to focus on the painful memories. At the first wave of pain, he wanted to retreat like he had the last few times he'd tried to remember, but as he focused, the memories became less hazy, sharpening into focus.

"My…mom died." He began, his mouth going dry at the memories. He quickly shoved those away. If he thought too much about it, he would start crying again, and he had a feeling that this man wouldn't like his tears. He didn't know why, since the man seemed to be nice, but something told him that if he so much as looked at the man wrong, he could get in trouble. "It was an accident, but it was my…my fault." His throat tightened, forcing himself to remember what happened after that. "My dad came home and…found out."

Something was wrong, though. He could feel it as he replayed the memory. But, how could he deny them? They were his memories, after all. "He got mad and blamed me. He…" Now, Luke stopped, replaying the memory, not sure if it really was real or not.

"Go on." The man implored gently, though there seemed to be an almost eager gleam in his eyes.

"He hurt me." The words felt wrong leaving his mouth. "Really badly. I thought he was going to kill me, so I ran away. I got lost in the woods, and I tripped and…I woke up here." His voice had gone soft, and he turned his gaze away from the man, staring off into the distance. Unconsciously, he gripped the pendant in his hand tighter underneath the blanket.

"Why would your father do such a thing to his own son?" The man sounded surprised, but Luke suspected that he'd known the answer already.

Luke frowned, forcing himself to remember further back. Other memories, lonely memories, began to form. "He…never paid much attention to me." It was a struggle to get the words out. He knew the memories were real, but they just felt so wrong. Perhaps they felt that way because he didn't want them to be real.

All he'd ever wanted was for his father, not just his mother, to love him. "He liked my sister more. She's a lot like him. And, now that baby Hayden is here, he seems to like him more, too." The memory of his new brother, the attention his brother got from his father…jealousy swelled within him. What had he ever done to deserve to be ignored? Why hadn't his father ever liked him? Was he such a disappointment to his father that he deserved to be treated like a stranger in his own family?

Conflict roared within him. His mind kept bouncing between trying to find a way that this was all just a terrible nightmare, and accepting what was happening. "What about your sister?" The man prompted.

Another painful lurch in his chest. His twin. Leia. "We were friends at first," he admitted, "But then she met Ella. She liked playing with her more than me, and now she just wants to play with Hayden." Again, that swell of jealousy. It should have been a familiar feeling by now, given everything he'd gone through but…it didn't feel familiar.

Why?

"Poor child," The older man said, and Luke turned his full attention back on him. His expression reflected pity, but there was still that strange glint in his eyes. "But, you are safe from all of that now."

Something still didn't seem right about the whole situation—other than the fact that he'd essentially murdered his own mother and his father had tried to kill him. "How did you know where to find me?" He tried to keep the suspicion from his voice. He didn't want to make his savior upset.

He didn't seem to take offense, though. "My dear boy, I've always taken an interest in you. You see, before you were born, your father made it seem like I was corrupted, that I had killed and bribed my way into the Senate. In fact, it was actually your mother's parents, your grandparents, who had done all of that. As a result, I was driven into hiding. Now, I am trying to rid the world of the wrongs your father and his Jedi are doing to the world. When I heard of your birth, I thought maybe I could save you, and I had my agents watch you. When Ventress, my assistant, saw your father try to kill you, she saved you and brought you to me. You've been in a coma for the last month."

"A month?" He echoed, his voice disbelieving. He didn't know what a coma was, but he couldn't remember a month going by. Apparently, coma's made you sleep for a really long time.

Palpatine nodded gravely. "But, now you are safe. Your father will never find you, I assure you."

Unease settled in Luke's stomach. It was almost as if a part of him wanted his father to find him. How could he want that, though? He shuddered as he remembered the way his father had looked at him when he'd found out what had happened to his mother. The way he'd advanced on him…

It was suddenly hard to breathe. His chest felt heavy, and it took all of his control not to cry. He wouldn't do that, not yet, not while the man was still staring at him. "What….what happens now?"

The man seemed pleased with this answer. "Can you stand, Luke? I'd like to show you something."

Luke hesitated. "I haven't tried to yet, but…" He carefully threw back the covers, careful to keep the necklace concealed in his fist, and gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed to try to stand. It took a moment, and when he was standing, he wobbled, but managed to stand.

"Very good." The man stood, turning, though he paused at the sight of his old pajamas littered on the floor. "I thought I had those destroyed." His voice had suddenly changed. There was an edge to it, an edge that made Luke's chest tighten in fear, though he tried not to show it.

"It was there when I woke up." He replied, trying to sound normal.

Palpatine stared at it for a moment longer before sighing. "Good help is so hard to find these days," he said as he began to leave the room. Luke followed, his grip tightening on the necklace. For some reason, he had a feeling that Palpatine would take the necklace away if he saw it. He quickly checked to see if his sweats had pockets. They did, and he quickly tucked the necklace into them. He wanted to keep his mother's necklace. Best to keep it hidden.

Palpatine led him through various corridors. Men and women in dark brown uniforms walked past, all of them looking like they were from some Asian country. "Where are we?" He asked in confusion after they passed a particularly large group patrolling the hallway, their movements completely in sync.

"North Korea." Palpatine answered. "It's one of my strongest allies, but I have plenty of allies across the world. There are other places like this there. Someday, you may visit those places as well." Suddenly, they were entering into a dark room with a window facing an even larger, brighter room, though the floor of that room was a level below them so that Luke had to look down when Palpatine led him to the window. There were plenty of kids down there, perhaps twenty or thirty at most. They all wore baggy, light brown pants, with a darker brown t-shirt. They were all about his age, and they looked to be in a class about learning to fight. They kept their attention on a familiar woman with strange tattoos tugging the corners of her mouth, who was instructing them on how to do a cool-looking kick. The kids tried it, to varying degrees of success.

"These are other children I have saved from the Jedi." Palpatine began to explain, "They're all like you. They have the Force. All of their parents rejected them because of their different abilities. I brought them all here as toddlers. My people, such as Ventress over there," Ventress. Luke took a closer look at her. She was supposedly the woman who saved him. Still, as he looked at her, he couldn't help but feel an intense dislike for the woman. Palpatine was still talking. "They give these kids the ability to someday defeat the Jedi and bring peace back to the world."

Luke pulled his gaze away from the woman. Though some of the kids were clearly less skilled, there were some who picked Ventress' moves up rather quickly. One of them, a girl with dark brown hair and olive colored skin, caught Luke's attention. "That's cool I guess." Luke said, turning back to Palpatine. "Why are you showing me this?"

Palpatine faced Luke. "Because I want you to train with them. See, when all of you turn sixteen, you will engage in a competition. Whoever wins, will not only lead this team, but will also be my personal apprentice. There are a lot of kids down there and in my other hideouts across the world who, because they've been here longer, will have an advantage over you." His stare intensified. "I have a feeling that won't last long, however. You are strong in the Force. If you apply yourself, you could easily defeat everyone and become my apprentice."

Luke was stunned. He glanced down at the kids below. He didn't know any of that stuff. "What if I don't win?" He asked softly, feeling like it was an important question.

Palpatine didn't answer immediately. "You will be part of our army, but you won't be leading." Luke was unsure at first. He tried to imagine himself down there, but it seemed…strange. Different. He'd never thought…

"Think of it like this," Palpatine interrupted his train of thought, "If you work hard enough and become my apprentice, someday you can get revenge on your father and destroy him."

That caught Luke's interest. Did Luke want to destroy his father? The memories flashed through his head again, bringing a fresh wave of anger and betrayal. His father had certainly wanted to destroy him. Why shouldn't he want to kill him, too? His father would surely kill him later if they ever met again. Why not at least prepare himself so that he could face him?

Luke turned back to Palpatine, a wave of determination hitting him. "Alright. I'll do it." He said, his voice full of conviction.

A slow smile crept across Palpatine's lips, and something about that smile caused Luke to feel...almost sick for a moment. "Good, good." He said, satisfied. "Now, you'll need to get rid of your name for a new one."

Luke frowned, uncertain again. "What's wrong with Luke Skywalker?"

"It's the name your father gave you, the one he will be looking for you with. Surely, you don't want him to find you, hmm?"

He had a point. If he was going to make a new life for himself, he would need another name. "What name are you thinking of?"

Palpatine considered this for a moment. "Starkiller." He finally said, and the name settled over Luke like a warm blanket. "From now on, you will be known as Starkiller."

"Starkiller," Luke said, tasting the name on his tongue. It was different but somehow, it oddly seemed to fit. "I like it."

"Good." Palpatine said, putting a firm hand on Luke's shoulder, his smile widening. "Welcome to your new life."


This chapter was a hard chapter to write. And I want to make this clear: Anakin is NOT giving up on looking for Luke. It just doesn't logically make sense for him to look by himself. And basically, by looking for Luke, the Jedi are also, to their knowledge, looking for Palpatine. Other than that, what I said last chapter's AN was a big reason why this chapter was so difficult to write.

The song for this chapter, and really the theme song going forward, is "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Lorde.

Someone asked about Satine remembering. Basically, she has had dreams, but she doesn't have her memories like Padme, Anakin, Obi-Wan, etc do. She trusts her husband though, and adores their little girls, and is a cool lawyer lady.

Review!

Love,

Sarah