The bookshelf twitched.

Leia sat up and swallowed, rubbing her neck.

Still Luke and Vader stood glaring. Vader's respirator droned incessantly.

"You're strong in the force, young Skywalker, but not strong enough."

Books and debris picked up and flew at Luke as if caught up in a windstorm.

Half of the bookshelf lifted slightly while Luke swung his blade to cut through the verbose assault. Books and rocks slipped past his defenses, but stopped when he kicked the floating bookshelf. It slid on the air at Vader.

At the same time Luke threw his saber handle, and it spun rapidly for Vader's chest. Vader held out his hand and stopped the bookshelf with the force while Luke closed his eyes and flicked his thumb.

The blue blade of Anakin Skywalker's saber drifted casually out of its elegant metal handle and sliced across Vader's chest, then went out.

The metal handle clattered to the floor as Vader hit the ground hard, his artificial breathing halted. His saber rolled out of his limp hand and deactivated.

Luke breathed deeply.

The air trembled in his throat, his energy spent.

Leia stood. "You did it, Luke!" she exclaimed excitedly, but Luke's somber countenance remained.

"We still have to stop the emperor," he said.