Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bet you'd already guessed that though, huh?
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Luke stared out of the view-screen, watching the glittering fragments drift into nothing. He had thought that space had lost the ability to surprise him. It had been his home for many years now, and in that time he had seen more than most would in a lifetime. Nevertheless, he found himself unable to tear his eyes from the image before him. He wanted to capture it --- seal it --- imprint it forever on his memory.
He had just witnessed the destruction of the Death Star.
Strange how peaceful the scene was. The force of the explosion had shattered the metallic orb into a billion gleaming embers. The field of devastation still retained a vaguely spherical shape, and, beyond that, the emerald-tinted moon of Endor drifted serenely against the darkness. So quiet --- so calm ---
It hardly seemed possible that, only minutes before, this had been the stage for the final battle against the Empire.
He could see them now - the Rebel forces flying in triumphant formations through the debris. Luke gave a small smile. They deserved to celebrate. What they had fought for for so many years had finally come to pass. The Emperor was dead, and with him, the Empire as well. For the first time as long as anyone could remember, they were free. It was something worth celebrating.
Han --- Leia --- Chewy --- the Droids --- they would all be waiting for them. He didn't need to worry for them - he knew that they were safe. All his life Luke had felt unease. He had been always running, always searching. Now he experienced an odd feeling of completion, and no matter what else happed, he knew that he would always have that sense of peace. He had achieved his density. There was balance within the Force.
"Luke----"
The voice drifted from the back of the shuttle. The young Jedi tapped the control panel quickly - setting the ship on auto-pilot. He rose from his chair and crossed the floor to stand beside the fallen man.
"It's all right," he told him, dropping to one knee, "You're safe now."
The man was sprawled awkwardly over a low bench, lying on his back with one arm folded over his chest. His respirator emitted a horse, steady intake of breath, the sound painfully weak against the pressing silence.
"Where ---- am ---- I?" He was forced the pause between each word, gasping for air.
Luke watched him tenderly. "We're on route to Endor. We should arrive in twenty minutes or so." He placed his hand over his fathers and gripped tightly. "Hang on just a little more."
The man - Darth Vader - stared up at him. The black helmet disguised any human expression that he might have worn, pitiless eye sockets looking blankly heavenward. "You --- saved --- me."
Luke gave a weak smile. "Of course I did."
"----Why?----"
The young Jedi raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why did you save me?" he challenged quietly.
Darth Vander didn't respond. His chest rose and fell with haggard breathing.
"Because you're my father, and because I'm your son. That's all that matters."
Behind the dark glass lenses, Luke thought he saw a quick movement, like hurried blinking. A faint glimmer of tears shone deep within void-like recesses. It was there for only a moment, disappearing so swiftly, he would later question whether he had simply imagined it.
Vader gave a small sigh and sank lower into the bench. His head rolled weakly to one side. The gathering darkness was looming up to greet him, a warm sleepy feeling drifting up through his crippled body. He allowed himself to fall into its gentle caresses without resistance. After so long fighting, it felt good to simply let go.
Luke watched his father fall unconscious. He didn't worry for his safety; he could sense that he was going to make it. He was strong, and they had almost reached Endor. Once there, the rebel medics would be able to help him.
It would be difficult. To him, the figure before him was Anakin Skywalker -- - his father. To anyone else however, he would still be Darth Vader, the destroyer of worlds and second only to the Emperor in the control of the Empire. Luke wasn't certain how far his name alone would be able to convince people to help the injured Vader -----
But that was all to come. Here --- now --- *this* was real. The past and the future were inconsequential.
Luke was bringing his father home.
Hand lingering on Darth's still arm, he rose to his feet and returned to his position at the helm.
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Luke stared out of the view-screen, watching the glittering fragments drift into nothing. He had thought that space had lost the ability to surprise him. It had been his home for many years now, and in that time he had seen more than most would in a lifetime. Nevertheless, he found himself unable to tear his eyes from the image before him. He wanted to capture it --- seal it --- imprint it forever on his memory.
He had just witnessed the destruction of the Death Star.
Strange how peaceful the scene was. The force of the explosion had shattered the metallic orb into a billion gleaming embers. The field of devastation still retained a vaguely spherical shape, and, beyond that, the emerald-tinted moon of Endor drifted serenely against the darkness. So quiet --- so calm ---
It hardly seemed possible that, only minutes before, this had been the stage for the final battle against the Empire.
He could see them now - the Rebel forces flying in triumphant formations through the debris. Luke gave a small smile. They deserved to celebrate. What they had fought for for so many years had finally come to pass. The Emperor was dead, and with him, the Empire as well. For the first time as long as anyone could remember, they were free. It was something worth celebrating.
Han --- Leia --- Chewy --- the Droids --- they would all be waiting for them. He didn't need to worry for them - he knew that they were safe. All his life Luke had felt unease. He had been always running, always searching. Now he experienced an odd feeling of completion, and no matter what else happed, he knew that he would always have that sense of peace. He had achieved his density. There was balance within the Force.
"Luke----"
The voice drifted from the back of the shuttle. The young Jedi tapped the control panel quickly - setting the ship on auto-pilot. He rose from his chair and crossed the floor to stand beside the fallen man.
"It's all right," he told him, dropping to one knee, "You're safe now."
The man was sprawled awkwardly over a low bench, lying on his back with one arm folded over his chest. His respirator emitted a horse, steady intake of breath, the sound painfully weak against the pressing silence.
"Where ---- am ---- I?" He was forced the pause between each word, gasping for air.
Luke watched him tenderly. "We're on route to Endor. We should arrive in twenty minutes or so." He placed his hand over his fathers and gripped tightly. "Hang on just a little more."
The man - Darth Vader - stared up at him. The black helmet disguised any human expression that he might have worn, pitiless eye sockets looking blankly heavenward. "You --- saved --- me."
Luke gave a weak smile. "Of course I did."
"----Why?----"
The young Jedi raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why did you save me?" he challenged quietly.
Darth Vander didn't respond. His chest rose and fell with haggard breathing.
"Because you're my father, and because I'm your son. That's all that matters."
Behind the dark glass lenses, Luke thought he saw a quick movement, like hurried blinking. A faint glimmer of tears shone deep within void-like recesses. It was there for only a moment, disappearing so swiftly, he would later question whether he had simply imagined it.
Vader gave a small sigh and sank lower into the bench. His head rolled weakly to one side. The gathering darkness was looming up to greet him, a warm sleepy feeling drifting up through his crippled body. He allowed himself to fall into its gentle caresses without resistance. After so long fighting, it felt good to simply let go.
Luke watched his father fall unconscious. He didn't worry for his safety; he could sense that he was going to make it. He was strong, and they had almost reached Endor. Once there, the rebel medics would be able to help him.
It would be difficult. To him, the figure before him was Anakin Skywalker -- - his father. To anyone else however, he would still be Darth Vader, the destroyer of worlds and second only to the Emperor in the control of the Empire. Luke wasn't certain how far his name alone would be able to convince people to help the injured Vader -----
But that was all to come. Here --- now --- *this* was real. The past and the future were inconsequential.
Luke was bringing his father home.
Hand lingering on Darth's still arm, he rose to his feet and returned to his position at the helm.