Luke was fighting a losing battle. He knew it, and Vader knew it. But still they fought, as men will do, for the sake only of fighting, leaving all logic behind. What they fought for no longer mattered; in his maddened state, Luke wasn't sure if he could recall the reason.

Hesnotmyfatherhesnotmyfatherhesnotmyfather…

It was not possible. And yet, deep down in a hidden part of his mind that was somehow still functioning, Luke knew it to be true.

***************

Worry wrinkles creased Yoda's forehead, making the already ancient face seem years older. He was not going to make it. He would not be able to save them.

There was only one way. One last chance…

******************

Leia tensed as she stepped out of the Millenium Falcon and onto the Death Star. Something was not right.

It was too quiet. That was it, she decided. That was all it was.

But it wasn't. There was something more.

She shrugged it off. There was no time to worry about that. Lightsaber in hand, she reached out with the Force to find Darth Vader. He was closely. A slow smile crossed her lips at the sweet thought of revenge.

*****************

Chewie softly roared a question as Han watched Leia walk away.

Han shook his head in reply. "Why should I? It's her suicide."

Another roar, accompanied by a shrug.

"No!"

This was followed by what sounded like a laugh.

"Dammit, leave me alone!" Han shouted, slamming his fist into the arm of his chair. Before Chewie could reply, he got up and walked off in the same direction Leia had gone.

Artoo-Detoo beeped a question, but Chewie had no answer to give.