Chapter XXVIII - Countdown
On the bridge, chaos had erupted.
The Imperials were in a panic, apparently not used to being fired upon by their own men. Many of the stormtrooper turncoats had died in the assault, and members of the original strike team had been grazed and burned. Laser fire filled the air, blackening walls, charring computer boards, and felling stormtroopers and technicians. The officers, being the cowards they were, had long since fled save a badly injured ensign who'd taken a shot in the back. All in all, it was a wonder the strike team had survived this long.
"Wish we had some kind of backup," remarked Leia as she pushed a dead technician out of his chair and read his screen. "They have coordinates here for Earth's major cities. They're planning an invasion!"
"That's nice to know," mumbled Jason sarcastically, ducking behind the console to fire at his pursuer.
Han was at a comm unit, trying to convince the other officers on board that it wasn't necessary to send reinforcements for the Imperials. The background noise probably wasn't helping to make his transmission sound authentic.
Three stormtroopers were setting up a small tripod cannon in an effort to deal with the Rebels collectively. Patrick pointed this out to Sergeant 259, and the two of them charged, firing. Immediately two of the stormtroopers raised their weapons while the third readied the cannon.
A wild shot from Patrick's gun struck the cannon, and the weapon exploded. The detonation caused a brief pause in the action as everyone turned to witness the spectacle.
"Patrick!" screamed Jason, running.
The three stormtroopers had been killed instantly, and Sergeant 259 was grievously burned. Patrick's wounds were less extensive, but he was still in a great deal of pain. The battle resumed even as Jason and Li pulled the two wounded men to relative safety.
Amethyst screamed and sank to the floor, her right leg smoking in three places. A trooper grabbed her arms and tried to force them behind her, but she savagely bit his hand. Austin threw her attacker aside, scooped her up, and carried her to a hallway out of harm's way. Chewie soon came into the hallway as well, holding Zack.
"I'm not hurt!" Zack was insisting. "Really! I feel fine! Ow!" He winced as his energetic gesturing stretched the burned flesh on his chest.
"That needs cleaning up bad," Austin told him as Chewie dropped him beside Amethyst on the floor.
Chewie barked something.
"I don't speak Wookie," Austin protested.
Chewie gestured for Austin to go back onto the bridge. He indicated that he would watch over Amethyst and Zack. Austin nodded and picked up his gun.
"Something's coming!" hissed Zack, whipping out his blaster. "More stormies! They won't mess with Zachary Brown, let me tell you!"
Amethyst, Austin, and Chewie also pointed their weapons down the corridor. A faint whirr became more audible as the intruder approached them. Austin took aim and prepared to shoot as, wheeling around the bend, came... a droid the size of a Radio Flyer wagon overflowing with dirty laundry.
Chewie belted out a roaring laugh.
"Your killer stormies, Rambo?" inquired Amethyst.
"Drop dead," Zack replied.
Austin opened his mouth to order them to shut up, but the clothing inside the droid abruptly heaved. Everyone again leveled their weapons at the machine. Was this some kind of ambush?
"Dad?"
Trapper? It couldn't be. But the head emerging from the laundry droid's interior could belong to no other boy. His vision fogged over as the boy scrambled out of the droid and ran toward him, and he fell to his knees and embraced his son.
"Dad!" he cried. "They were gonna kill me!"
"I know," Austin choked. "I know... oh, Trapper! I was so afraid you were dead!"
"That lying, back-stabbing, scum-eating, rotten-toothed, pasty-faced, red-eyed, psychotic, electronic, monk-wannabe, no-good piece of pig refuse!" Amethyst hissed.
"And he's evil, too," Zack added.
"Shut up."
"Dad, look out!" Trapper shouted.
Stormtrooper TK-688 had approached, his armor dark with carbon scoring.
"It's all right, Trapper," Austin told him. "Any stormtroopers with black sashes are on our side."
"All opposition cleared, sir," 688 reported. "Three surviving stormtroopers, one injured and in critical condition, one civilian in serious condition." He glanced at Trapper. "Is this the boy captive? I had heard he'd escaped, but I had thought they had tracked him down and eliminated him already."
"Hey, stormtroopers are dumb," Trapper replied as he picked up Amethyst's spare gun. "No offense."
"Now just a minute..." protested 688.
"Oh, let him have the blaster!" Austin replied. "I'd rather he did at this point. Right now it's the lesser of two evils."
Trapper was soon able to put his blaster to good use, for a group of enemy reinforcements had arrived. The six of them opened fire, but it was clear they were outnumbered.
"Take the injured and go back to the bridge," 688 ordered.
"How are you gonna..." began Amethyst.
"Just go!"
Austin scooped Amethyst up, trying not to jostle her leg, and ran. Chewie, hauling Zack over his shoulder in a fireman carry, followed, with Trapper just at the Wookie's heels.
Behind them, TK-688 ripped the thermal detonator from his belt, activated it, and held it over his head.
"Watch out!" one stormtrooper cried. "He has a -- "
The shock wave from the explosion nearly knocked Austin off his feet. He felt the heat of the blast at his back, as well as tiny pieces of shrapnel whose origins Austin tried not to consider. A mangled stormtrooper helmet skittered past, propelled by the explosion. 688 had given his life to eliminate the threat.
"Oh man, we missed the action!" lamented Zack.
The battle on the Executor's bridge had left all Imperials dead. Now the Elite was busy tending to the wounded. Liberty had located an Imperial medkit and was able to treat the minor cuts and burns, but Amethyst, Zack, Patrick, and 259 would need a professional doctor to look over their wounds. Only one stormtrooper, TK-577, was still standing.
"Trapper!" cried Liberty, throwing her arms around him.
"He's alive!" screamed Cody. "Hallelujah!"
Trapper, who had just achieved celebrity status, made the rounds among the strike team while Austin laid Amethyst down beside Patrick.
"Patrick, Sergeant, hang tight," Austin told them. "We'll get you help as soon as we can."
"Too late..." gasped 259. "Mortal wounds..."
"Be optimistic," Austin said. "American doctors are some of the best on our planet, even if bacta technology's ahead of our time."
259 reached up and gripped Austin's hand. "Fought too long... for the wrong reasons... least I died... doing something right..." He coughed noisily, then groaned with pain. "Sorry about your son..."
"He escaped," Austin replied. "He's okay now."
259 chuckled and moaned again. "Good boy... got a good mind... hope he... makes you proud..." He took a shuddering breath and was still.
Austin squeezed the sergeant's hand until it went limp, then laid both his arms over his burned chest.
"I never thought I'd cry over the death of a stormtrooper," he murmured.
"Someone find something flat to use as a stretcher!" Leia ordered. "More than one, if you can!"
"Found something!" Brigham replied, prying a loose floor panel up.
"That'll work," replied Leia. "Get Patrick on it, then get two more for Zack and Amethyst if you can."
Liberty grasped a crossbow bolt that had landed in a computer screen and wrenched it free. "Wanna help me collect my arrows, Austin? I'm a cheapskate, and these things are expensive."
Austin joined her in her search, his stomach churning as he stepped over bodies. Liberty hadn't been kidding when she'd said she was a crack shot. He had thought arrows would be useless against stormtrooper armor, but she had downed several by aiming for the neck or the patch under the arm that wasn't covered by plating.
"Um, Lib, did you mean to do this?" he asked, pointing to a computer console. A crossbow bolt jutted from the plasteel, smoke curling out around the shaft.
"No, that was a wild shot," she replied. "Why?"
577 came over and examined the panel.
"Five minutes forty-five seconds remaining," he noted. "This is bad. Liberty's just hit the self-destruct mechanism's activation switch. The emergency deactivation switch is damaged, too. The Executor's going to blow."
That caught everyone's attention.
"We're in deep , aren't we?" asked Steve.
"All in favor in getting the hell off this ship say 'aye,'" suggested Li.
"Aye!" everyone shouted, and everyone ran, pausing only to retrieve their wounded.
Anakin felt surprisingly calm as he parried the Emperor's blows. He felt no fear, no anger, no rush of adrenaline -- only a strange serenity. He was the vortex of the cyclone, the island in the turbulent seas, the pillar of strength against the winds of darkness.
/Let the Force guide you./ Obi-wan's fencing lecture played in his head like a chant. /If you allow it to govern your actions, you will stand strong against your adversary. You are a vessel of the Force, the calm of the battle's heat, the eye of the storm./
If only Obi-wan could see him now. His upstart, hard-nosed apprentice had finally taken his master's lessons to heart. Even against the fury of the Emperor, he was steady and calm.
Palpatine stabbed forward, trying to impale Anakin on his weapon. He knocked the lunge aside and made an attack of his own, feinting for the legs, then slashing at the chest. The Emperor laughed haughtily as he parried the blow.
"Is that the best you can do, Anakin?" he taunted, then screamed as a third strike sliced across his hip in a glancing blow.
"Obviously not," Anakin noted dryly.
Their weapons locked, and they regarded each other over the crossed sabers, Palpatine with contemptuous hatred, Anakin with a detached amusement.
"You always thought yourself superior, Anakin, even as a Jedi. You could never be content with what your mentors gave you. You always needed more power, more control. You could never accept the role of apprentice. Well, today you are still the apprentice. I am the master."
"Only a master of evil, Palpatine," Anakin replied.
That only fueled his anger, and he delivered a flurry of blows that had Anakin pinned against the wall. His rotted teeth were fixed in a grin of malevolent elation as he swept in for the killing strike. Anakin smiled himself -- the Emperor had acted according to plan. He held his ground until the last possible moment, then whirled to the side as Palpatine's saber bit deep into the wall. A slab of molten durasteel buckled in a shower of sparks, leaving an impromptu doorway to the adjoining hallway.
Anakin darted past the startled Emperor and through the doorway. An officer and two TIE pilots stared in amazed terror as Palpatine followed and the clash of lightsabers resumed. Flashes of ruby light illuminated the hallway in an eerie glow.
"Five hundred credits on Vader," one TIE pilot whispered.
"You're on," the second pilot shot back.
Anakin noted that the Emperor was sweating profusely and breathing hard. Despite his control of the dark side, the monarch was not immune to the ravages of time. He was rather old, and being elderly he tired quickly. If Anakin could just hold out a while longer, his foe might exhaust himself enough to make a fatal mistake.
A mysterious wind tugged at his cape, and he pressed out with the Force to feel the chasm of the Executor's reactor shaft close behind him.
"Frightened yet, Anakin?" sneered Palpatine.
"You wish," Anakin smirked.
"You fool," Palpatine went on disdainfully. "Had you remained loyal to me, you could have ruled the galaxy in my stead. But you decided to grow a conscious and turn away from the dark side -- all for the sake of twin brats you never knew. I hope you think it was worth it, sacrificing the strength of the darkness for the weak idealism of the light."
"You know you can't win," Anakin replied. "Strike me down, and I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
With a scream Palpatine attacked again, driving him back. In dodging a blow Anakin struck the doorway leading to the shaft, and the collision reopened the wound on his shoulder. He put away the pain and concentrated on the battle.
/A little farther/ he thought, edging away from the Emperor. /Just a little farther.../
His heel struck the edge of the pit, and for a brief moment he lost his balance. Palpatine took advantage of that fraction of a second to strike at Anakin's weapon with all his strength. The blow knocked the lightsaber from his hands and sent it spiraling down the chasm.
"Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One, meet your doom," Palpatine snarled. "I have won." And he put all his strength behind that fatal swing.
A laugh of triumph burst from Anakin's lips. "No. You have lost."
Before the saber could connect Anakin flung himself backward, over the lip of the reactor pit and into empty space. The Emperor completed the swing without striking anything, went off-balance, and fell after him with a scream of combined rage and horror.
Anakin's plan had gone without a hitch.
"Why don't men from any planet ask for directions?" demanded Emily as the party took what had to be yet another wrong turn.
"I've been on Anakin's Stardestroyer before," Fett insisted. "The audience chamber is right this way."
"But I actually looked at the readout," Luke shot back. "It should be the other way."
"Uh-oh, another dead end," Matthews noted as their path terminated at the edge of the reactor pit.
"Well, we'll just have to turn around and try another way," Conrad said.
"And get even more lost?" Liz snapped. "By the time we get to Anakin, the Emperor would have cut him into a lace doily!"
"Excuse me, but you didn't exactly find your way back to the throne room in a jiffy," Conrad shot back.
"You're a fine one to be mouthing off, Mr. I-know-exactly-where-the-Denver-exit-is-so- what-are-we-doing-in-Wyoming!"
"That was a long time ago!"
"Two years isn't that long a time..."
"Shut up!" ordered Diana. "Arguing isn't going to get us any closer to Anakin..."
Rachel's mouth formed an O of astonishment. "Lookit! Lookit!" She pointed up to a doorway on the opposite side of the pit. "There they are!"
Luke's eyes went wide. "That's them all right!"
Red sabers clashed as Anakin and Palpatine faced off. Anakin was an excellent fighter, but Palpatine fought with the energy and strength of a crazed, desperate man. With a savage blow, Anakin's weapon went spinning into the shaft.
"NO!" cried Luke.
"I can't look, I can't look, I can't look..." whimpered Mike, hands over his eyes.
As the party watched in terrified anticipation, the Emperor lashed out to slice Anakin in two -- but missed. Anakin had fallen into the chasm, and with a piercing cry Palpatine plunged in after him.
"Do something!" a stormtrooper shouted.
"What are we supposed to do, sprout wings and fly to him?" Emily demanded.
Fett lifted his arm, hand on the grappling-hook launcher. "I don't believe in the Force, I don't believe in God, and I don't believe in fate. But if any or all of them exist, please let them help me make this shot!" He fired.
The Emperor clutched his lightsaber as he fell, face contorted in deadly rage. Even as he tumbled to his death he wanted Anakin's blood. Anakin didn't care. He had accomplished the prophecy. The last Sith was plunging to his doom. The Chosen One had brought balance to the Force and could now die in peace.
/Thank you, Luke, for helping me back to the light./ He smiled at the thought of his son, now a Jedi, restoring the Order to its former glory. That was his one regret -- that he had had only a few precious weeks with his children before his death. The past month and a half had been a wonderful, heart-rending yet heart-healing time of forgiveness and reunion, but that time had been far too short. He could take some comfort, however, in the fact that he could probably visit his children from beyond the veil.
A slender, metallic line streaked through the air. A fibercord! Perhaps the game was not yet over.
He drew the cord to him with the Force, wrapping it securely around his wrists. As the Emperor fell past him, lashing out with his saber, Anakin brutally shoved him away. The Sith Lord's cries of fury and terror trailed down the chasm after him.
Abruptly the line went taut, and he found himself hurtling toward the wall of the shaft at an uncomfortable speed.
/Sithspawn, this is going to hurt./
He blacked out on impact.
"He caught it!" cried Emily.
"Um, has anyone taken into account the fact that Anakin is mostly metal and probably weighs a good deal, and he's falling pretty fast?" asked Matthews.
After a split second of consideration, everyone clung to Fett to keep him from being yanked over the edge. Even so, the jerk of the line nearly dragged them all in anyway. Fett screamed as his arm took the sudden strain, tearing muscles and tendons, breaking bones, and wrenching every joint in his arm.
Luke grabbed the fibercord, and together everyone managed to haul Anakin out of the shaft.
"He's out cold," Diana observed, rolling him onto his back. "Better splint Fett's arm while we wait for Anakin to come to."
Fett had been injured countless times, more often seriously than not, so he was by no means a wimp. Even so, he moaned in agony as Matthews and Emily strapped a stormtrooper's shin guard to his arm to keep the limb immobilized. Fibercord served as a makeshift sling.
"You've gotta see a doctor once we reach Earth," Conrad told him.
"Hey, I think he moved!" Mike shouted, pointing to Anakin.
When Anakin opened his eyes, he wondered if he was dreaming. Everything around him seemed so much clearer, as if he were looking upon it with his own flesh-and-blood eyes, without holographic enhancements. He raised his right hand -- which no longer seemed to be mechanical -- and gingerly touched his face. Instead of durasteel, he touched the skin of his cheek. Startled, he sat up.
He was in an open area, like a plain. It didn't resemble the grasslands of Naboo. Come to think of it, it didn't appear to resemble the praries of Corellia or the savannahs of Dantooine either. If anything, it seemed to be a combination of all worlds.
Curious, he stood and began to walk around, noting that his legs, too, had been restored. What in the galaxy was going on? Where was he? Where were the others?
The grass rustled behind him, and he whirled to face a dark man with a scarred face and an easy smile.
"Jango?" he said in disbelief, and he was surprised when his voice came out naturally, lacking the metallic accent of the synthesizer.
"Guilty as charged," Jango replied with a chuckle.
"But you're..." he began, his voice trailing off as he realized what had happened. "I'm dead?"
"No, Anakin. Unconscious. Briefly permitted to enter the realm of the Force. It is the only way you may visit those deceased who are not Jedi and so cannot pass through the veil." He motioned him away. "Come. There are those you must meet."
He followed Jango. The landscape became drier, sandy and rocky, almost like Tatooine or Geonosis. Strangely enough, he felt almost at home here.
"Ani?"
He halted in his tracks, tears springing forth. For the woman approaching him, grinning broadly, arms extended, was his mother. Shmi Skywalker Lars, his sole parent, the woman who had striven to teach him kindness and generosity... the woman who had died in his arms, driving him to grief and the dark side.
"Mom," he choked, falling into her arms. Waves of shame inudated him as he sobbed against her. "Mother, I'm so sorry. I wanted to make you proud of me, but I failed you."
"My son," she breathed, stroking his cheek as she had so often when he was a small boy. "You have no reason to be sorry."
"But... I did so many horrible things. I promised I'd come free you, and I never did. I became a Sith..."
"Oh, Ani," she interrupted. "You did all you could to help me. You brought balance to the Force, and I'm so proud of you for that."
"We all are," an aged man added, stepping up with his wife at his side.
"Owen!" he cried, recognizing the man. "And Beru!"
"You and your son -- my nephew -- have done us proud," Owen went on. "I wish we'd gotten to know you better, but all I can say is you did well."
"I always knew Luke would follow in your footsteps," Beru added. "It was just a matter of time."
"And knowing which of my footsteps to follow," Anakin replied.
"That's true," Owen acknowledged.
"Ani!" Amphibious arms grabbed him in a wild embrace. "Mees'n so smilin' to be seein' yousa!"
"Good to see you again, Jar Jar," Anakin replied, prying the Gungan's arms off.
"Yous'n do bombad!" Jar Jar babbled. "An' yous'n son, too. Mees'n bustin' wit' happiness to be seein' him an' my daughter in Rogue Squadron..."
"Wait a minute," interrupted Anakin. "You have a daughter?"
"Cleiko Binks, but hers'n mother be callin' her Trigger, 'cause'n she be good shot wit' a blaster," Jar Jar explained. "Mees'n be missin' her bombad."
"If I ever see her, I'll tell her I met you," Anakin replied.
Jar Jar grinned. "Thanks muy muy, Ani!"
Shmi smiled, and she stepped aside as another figure approached, still as radiant as she had been over twenty-four years ago when he saw her last.
"Padme," he breathed.
She ran to him. "Anakin!"
They embraced, crying. He kissed her passionatley, reveling in the feel of her against him, never minding the eyes of the others.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to hide the children to protect them. I'm so sorry. You should have known..."
"I don't hold it against you, my love," he replied gently. "Had I known, the Emperor would have found out and quite possibly destroyed them."
"Oh Anakin," she sighed, burying her face in his shoulder. "I love you."
"And I you."
"Anakin." Jango's voice broke up the happy reunion. "It's time to go."
"What?" He whirled to face the hunter. "But I just got here!"
"I said it would be brief, didn't I?" Jango replied. "The living can only remain here a short time. The Force has been generous enough as it is."
Anakin turned back to his family. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Soon enough, Anakin," Padme told him. "You're time is not yet up. There is still much for you to do. But we'll be together again soon."
He embraced Padme one last time. "I love you. I'll miss you all very much." Even as he spoke those around him began to fade.
"May the Force be with you," Owen said.
"One last thing," Jango added, his voice becoming hollow as he went transparent. "When you wake up, tell my son I'm very proud of him. And to quit his wallowing."
"Lord Vader?"
He blinked, and in that split second his eyes were shut the scene of his deceased friends and family was wiped away. In their place were the concerned faces of Luke, Rachel, and a single stormtrooper.
"Are you okay?" asked Luke. "You were saying something about Jar Jar."
He sat up with a groan. "I'm fine."
"How many fingers am I holding up?" asked Matthews, holding up a hand.
"What am I, stupid?" asked Anakin.
"He was just checking for double vision," said Diana.
"Yay, he's okay!" Rachel squealed, throwing her arms around him.
"Ouch! Watch the shoulder!"
"You got an owie!" she noted, spotting the gouge. "I'll kiss it better."
A siren began blaring, and a monotone voice sounded.
"Self-destruct mechanism activated. Five minutes to detonation."
"Self-destruct?" shrieked Liz. "What the hell were the others thinking?!"
"Can we shut it off?" asked Conrad.
"It's risky, but perhaps we can," Anakin replied. "Follow me to the bridge."
On the bridge, chaos had erupted.
The Imperials were in a panic, apparently not used to being fired upon by their own men. Many of the stormtrooper turncoats had died in the assault, and members of the original strike team had been grazed and burned. Laser fire filled the air, blackening walls, charring computer boards, and felling stormtroopers and technicians. The officers, being the cowards they were, had long since fled save a badly injured ensign who'd taken a shot in the back. All in all, it was a wonder the strike team had survived this long.
"Wish we had some kind of backup," remarked Leia as she pushed a dead technician out of his chair and read his screen. "They have coordinates here for Earth's major cities. They're planning an invasion!"
"That's nice to know," mumbled Jason sarcastically, ducking behind the console to fire at his pursuer.
Han was at a comm unit, trying to convince the other officers on board that it wasn't necessary to send reinforcements for the Imperials. The background noise probably wasn't helping to make his transmission sound authentic.
Three stormtroopers were setting up a small tripod cannon in an effort to deal with the Rebels collectively. Patrick pointed this out to Sergeant 259, and the two of them charged, firing. Immediately two of the stormtroopers raised their weapons while the third readied the cannon.
A wild shot from Patrick's gun struck the cannon, and the weapon exploded. The detonation caused a brief pause in the action as everyone turned to witness the spectacle.
"Patrick!" screamed Jason, running.
The three stormtroopers had been killed instantly, and Sergeant 259 was grievously burned. Patrick's wounds were less extensive, but he was still in a great deal of pain. The battle resumed even as Jason and Li pulled the two wounded men to relative safety.
Amethyst screamed and sank to the floor, her right leg smoking in three places. A trooper grabbed her arms and tried to force them behind her, but she savagely bit his hand. Austin threw her attacker aside, scooped her up, and carried her to a hallway out of harm's way. Chewie soon came into the hallway as well, holding Zack.
"I'm not hurt!" Zack was insisting. "Really! I feel fine! Ow!" He winced as his energetic gesturing stretched the burned flesh on his chest.
"That needs cleaning up bad," Austin told him as Chewie dropped him beside Amethyst on the floor.
Chewie barked something.
"I don't speak Wookie," Austin protested.
Chewie gestured for Austin to go back onto the bridge. He indicated that he would watch over Amethyst and Zack. Austin nodded and picked up his gun.
"Something's coming!" hissed Zack, whipping out his blaster. "More stormies! They won't mess with Zachary Brown, let me tell you!"
Amethyst, Austin, and Chewie also pointed their weapons down the corridor. A faint whirr became more audible as the intruder approached them. Austin took aim and prepared to shoot as, wheeling around the bend, came... a droid the size of a Radio Flyer wagon overflowing with dirty laundry.
Chewie belted out a roaring laugh.
"Your killer stormies, Rambo?" inquired Amethyst.
"Drop dead," Zack replied.
Austin opened his mouth to order them to shut up, but the clothing inside the droid abruptly heaved. Everyone again leveled their weapons at the machine. Was this some kind of ambush?
"Dad?"
Trapper? It couldn't be. But the head emerging from the laundry droid's interior could belong to no other boy. His vision fogged over as the boy scrambled out of the droid and ran toward him, and he fell to his knees and embraced his son.
"Dad!" he cried. "They were gonna kill me!"
"I know," Austin choked. "I know... oh, Trapper! I was so afraid you were dead!"
"That lying, back-stabbing, scum-eating, rotten-toothed, pasty-faced, red-eyed, psychotic, electronic, monk-wannabe, no-good piece of pig refuse!" Amethyst hissed.
"And he's evil, too," Zack added.
"Shut up."
"Dad, look out!" Trapper shouted.
Stormtrooper TK-688 had approached, his armor dark with carbon scoring.
"It's all right, Trapper," Austin told him. "Any stormtroopers with black sashes are on our side."
"All opposition cleared, sir," 688 reported. "Three surviving stormtroopers, one injured and in critical condition, one civilian in serious condition." He glanced at Trapper. "Is this the boy captive? I had heard he'd escaped, but I had thought they had tracked him down and eliminated him already."
"Hey, stormtroopers are dumb," Trapper replied as he picked up Amethyst's spare gun. "No offense."
"Now just a minute..." protested 688.
"Oh, let him have the blaster!" Austin replied. "I'd rather he did at this point. Right now it's the lesser of two evils."
Trapper was soon able to put his blaster to good use, for a group of enemy reinforcements had arrived. The six of them opened fire, but it was clear they were outnumbered.
"Take the injured and go back to the bridge," 688 ordered.
"How are you gonna..." began Amethyst.
"Just go!"
Austin scooped Amethyst up, trying not to jostle her leg, and ran. Chewie, hauling Zack over his shoulder in a fireman carry, followed, with Trapper just at the Wookie's heels.
Behind them, TK-688 ripped the thermal detonator from his belt, activated it, and held it over his head.
"Watch out!" one stormtrooper cried. "He has a -- "
The shock wave from the explosion nearly knocked Austin off his feet. He felt the heat of the blast at his back, as well as tiny pieces of shrapnel whose origins Austin tried not to consider. A mangled stormtrooper helmet skittered past, propelled by the explosion. 688 had given his life to eliminate the threat.
"Oh man, we missed the action!" lamented Zack.
The battle on the Executor's bridge had left all Imperials dead. Now the Elite was busy tending to the wounded. Liberty had located an Imperial medkit and was able to treat the minor cuts and burns, but Amethyst, Zack, Patrick, and 259 would need a professional doctor to look over their wounds. Only one stormtrooper, TK-577, was still standing.
"Trapper!" cried Liberty, throwing her arms around him.
"He's alive!" screamed Cody. "Hallelujah!"
Trapper, who had just achieved celebrity status, made the rounds among the strike team while Austin laid Amethyst down beside Patrick.
"Patrick, Sergeant, hang tight," Austin told them. "We'll get you help as soon as we can."
"Too late..." gasped 259. "Mortal wounds..."
"Be optimistic," Austin said. "American doctors are some of the best on our planet, even if bacta technology's ahead of our time."
259 reached up and gripped Austin's hand. "Fought too long... for the wrong reasons... least I died... doing something right..." He coughed noisily, then groaned with pain. "Sorry about your son..."
"He escaped," Austin replied. "He's okay now."
259 chuckled and moaned again. "Good boy... got a good mind... hope he... makes you proud..." He took a shuddering breath and was still.
Austin squeezed the sergeant's hand until it went limp, then laid both his arms over his burned chest.
"I never thought I'd cry over the death of a stormtrooper," he murmured.
"Someone find something flat to use as a stretcher!" Leia ordered. "More than one, if you can!"
"Found something!" Brigham replied, prying a loose floor panel up.
"That'll work," replied Leia. "Get Patrick on it, then get two more for Zack and Amethyst if you can."
Liberty grasped a crossbow bolt that had landed in a computer screen and wrenched it free. "Wanna help me collect my arrows, Austin? I'm a cheapskate, and these things are expensive."
Austin joined her in her search, his stomach churning as he stepped over bodies. Liberty hadn't been kidding when she'd said she was a crack shot. He had thought arrows would be useless against stormtrooper armor, but she had downed several by aiming for the neck or the patch under the arm that wasn't covered by plating.
"Um, Lib, did you mean to do this?" he asked, pointing to a computer console. A crossbow bolt jutted from the plasteel, smoke curling out around the shaft.
"No, that was a wild shot," she replied. "Why?"
577 came over and examined the panel.
"Five minutes forty-five seconds remaining," he noted. "This is bad. Liberty's just hit the self-destruct mechanism's activation switch. The emergency deactivation switch is damaged, too. The Executor's going to blow."
That caught everyone's attention.
"We're in deep , aren't we?" asked Steve.
"All in favor in getting the hell off this ship say 'aye,'" suggested Li.
"Aye!" everyone shouted, and everyone ran, pausing only to retrieve their wounded.
Anakin felt surprisingly calm as he parried the Emperor's blows. He felt no fear, no anger, no rush of adrenaline -- only a strange serenity. He was the vortex of the cyclone, the island in the turbulent seas, the pillar of strength against the winds of darkness.
/Let the Force guide you./ Obi-wan's fencing lecture played in his head like a chant. /If you allow it to govern your actions, you will stand strong against your adversary. You are a vessel of the Force, the calm of the battle's heat, the eye of the storm./
If only Obi-wan could see him now. His upstart, hard-nosed apprentice had finally taken his master's lessons to heart. Even against the fury of the Emperor, he was steady and calm.
Palpatine stabbed forward, trying to impale Anakin on his weapon. He knocked the lunge aside and made an attack of his own, feinting for the legs, then slashing at the chest. The Emperor laughed haughtily as he parried the blow.
"Is that the best you can do, Anakin?" he taunted, then screamed as a third strike sliced across his hip in a glancing blow.
"Obviously not," Anakin noted dryly.
Their weapons locked, and they regarded each other over the crossed sabers, Palpatine with contemptuous hatred, Anakin with a detached amusement.
"You always thought yourself superior, Anakin, even as a Jedi. You could never be content with what your mentors gave you. You always needed more power, more control. You could never accept the role of apprentice. Well, today you are still the apprentice. I am the master."
"Only a master of evil, Palpatine," Anakin replied.
That only fueled his anger, and he delivered a flurry of blows that had Anakin pinned against the wall. His rotted teeth were fixed in a grin of malevolent elation as he swept in for the killing strike. Anakin smiled himself -- the Emperor had acted according to plan. He held his ground until the last possible moment, then whirled to the side as Palpatine's saber bit deep into the wall. A slab of molten durasteel buckled in a shower of sparks, leaving an impromptu doorway to the adjoining hallway.
Anakin darted past the startled Emperor and through the doorway. An officer and two TIE pilots stared in amazed terror as Palpatine followed and the clash of lightsabers resumed. Flashes of ruby light illuminated the hallway in an eerie glow.
"Five hundred credits on Vader," one TIE pilot whispered.
"You're on," the second pilot shot back.
Anakin noted that the Emperor was sweating profusely and breathing hard. Despite his control of the dark side, the monarch was not immune to the ravages of time. He was rather old, and being elderly he tired quickly. If Anakin could just hold out a while longer, his foe might exhaust himself enough to make a fatal mistake.
A mysterious wind tugged at his cape, and he pressed out with the Force to feel the chasm of the Executor's reactor shaft close behind him.
"Frightened yet, Anakin?" sneered Palpatine.
"You wish," Anakin smirked.
"You fool," Palpatine went on disdainfully. "Had you remained loyal to me, you could have ruled the galaxy in my stead. But you decided to grow a conscious and turn away from the dark side -- all for the sake of twin brats you never knew. I hope you think it was worth it, sacrificing the strength of the darkness for the weak idealism of the light."
"You know you can't win," Anakin replied. "Strike me down, and I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
With a scream Palpatine attacked again, driving him back. In dodging a blow Anakin struck the doorway leading to the shaft, and the collision reopened the wound on his shoulder. He put away the pain and concentrated on the battle.
/A little farther/ he thought, edging away from the Emperor. /Just a little farther.../
His heel struck the edge of the pit, and for a brief moment he lost his balance. Palpatine took advantage of that fraction of a second to strike at Anakin's weapon with all his strength. The blow knocked the lightsaber from his hands and sent it spiraling down the chasm.
"Anakin Skywalker, Chosen One, meet your doom," Palpatine snarled. "I have won." And he put all his strength behind that fatal swing.
A laugh of triumph burst from Anakin's lips. "No. You have lost."
Before the saber could connect Anakin flung himself backward, over the lip of the reactor pit and into empty space. The Emperor completed the swing without striking anything, went off-balance, and fell after him with a scream of combined rage and horror.
Anakin's plan had gone without a hitch.
"Why don't men from any planet ask for directions?" demanded Emily as the party took what had to be yet another wrong turn.
"I've been on Anakin's Stardestroyer before," Fett insisted. "The audience chamber is right this way."
"But I actually looked at the readout," Luke shot back. "It should be the other way."
"Uh-oh, another dead end," Matthews noted as their path terminated at the edge of the reactor pit.
"Well, we'll just have to turn around and try another way," Conrad said.
"And get even more lost?" Liz snapped. "By the time we get to Anakin, the Emperor would have cut him into a lace doily!"
"Excuse me, but you didn't exactly find your way back to the throne room in a jiffy," Conrad shot back.
"You're a fine one to be mouthing off, Mr. I-know-exactly-where-the-Denver-exit-is-so- what-are-we-doing-in-Wyoming!"
"That was a long time ago!"
"Two years isn't that long a time..."
"Shut up!" ordered Diana. "Arguing isn't going to get us any closer to Anakin..."
Rachel's mouth formed an O of astonishment. "Lookit! Lookit!" She pointed up to a doorway on the opposite side of the pit. "There they are!"
Luke's eyes went wide. "That's them all right!"
Red sabers clashed as Anakin and Palpatine faced off. Anakin was an excellent fighter, but Palpatine fought with the energy and strength of a crazed, desperate man. With a savage blow, Anakin's weapon went spinning into the shaft.
"NO!" cried Luke.
"I can't look, I can't look, I can't look..." whimpered Mike, hands over his eyes.
As the party watched in terrified anticipation, the Emperor lashed out to slice Anakin in two -- but missed. Anakin had fallen into the chasm, and with a piercing cry Palpatine plunged in after him.
"Do something!" a stormtrooper shouted.
"What are we supposed to do, sprout wings and fly to him?" Emily demanded.
Fett lifted his arm, hand on the grappling-hook launcher. "I don't believe in the Force, I don't believe in God, and I don't believe in fate. But if any or all of them exist, please let them help me make this shot!" He fired.
The Emperor clutched his lightsaber as he fell, face contorted in deadly rage. Even as he tumbled to his death he wanted Anakin's blood. Anakin didn't care. He had accomplished the prophecy. The last Sith was plunging to his doom. The Chosen One had brought balance to the Force and could now die in peace.
/Thank you, Luke, for helping me back to the light./ He smiled at the thought of his son, now a Jedi, restoring the Order to its former glory. That was his one regret -- that he had had only a few precious weeks with his children before his death. The past month and a half had been a wonderful, heart-rending yet heart-healing time of forgiveness and reunion, but that time had been far too short. He could take some comfort, however, in the fact that he could probably visit his children from beyond the veil.
A slender, metallic line streaked through the air. A fibercord! Perhaps the game was not yet over.
He drew the cord to him with the Force, wrapping it securely around his wrists. As the Emperor fell past him, lashing out with his saber, Anakin brutally shoved him away. The Sith Lord's cries of fury and terror trailed down the chasm after him.
Abruptly the line went taut, and he found himself hurtling toward the wall of the shaft at an uncomfortable speed.
/Sithspawn, this is going to hurt./
He blacked out on impact.
"He caught it!" cried Emily.
"Um, has anyone taken into account the fact that Anakin is mostly metal and probably weighs a good deal, and he's falling pretty fast?" asked Matthews.
After a split second of consideration, everyone clung to Fett to keep him from being yanked over the edge. Even so, the jerk of the line nearly dragged them all in anyway. Fett screamed as his arm took the sudden strain, tearing muscles and tendons, breaking bones, and wrenching every joint in his arm.
Luke grabbed the fibercord, and together everyone managed to haul Anakin out of the shaft.
"He's out cold," Diana observed, rolling him onto his back. "Better splint Fett's arm while we wait for Anakin to come to."
Fett had been injured countless times, more often seriously than not, so he was by no means a wimp. Even so, he moaned in agony as Matthews and Emily strapped a stormtrooper's shin guard to his arm to keep the limb immobilized. Fibercord served as a makeshift sling.
"You've gotta see a doctor once we reach Earth," Conrad told him.
"Hey, I think he moved!" Mike shouted, pointing to Anakin.
When Anakin opened his eyes, he wondered if he was dreaming. Everything around him seemed so much clearer, as if he were looking upon it with his own flesh-and-blood eyes, without holographic enhancements. He raised his right hand -- which no longer seemed to be mechanical -- and gingerly touched his face. Instead of durasteel, he touched the skin of his cheek. Startled, he sat up.
He was in an open area, like a plain. It didn't resemble the grasslands of Naboo. Come to think of it, it didn't appear to resemble the praries of Corellia or the savannahs of Dantooine either. If anything, it seemed to be a combination of all worlds.
Curious, he stood and began to walk around, noting that his legs, too, had been restored. What in the galaxy was going on? Where was he? Where were the others?
The grass rustled behind him, and he whirled to face a dark man with a scarred face and an easy smile.
"Jango?" he said in disbelief, and he was surprised when his voice came out naturally, lacking the metallic accent of the synthesizer.
"Guilty as charged," Jango replied with a chuckle.
"But you're..." he began, his voice trailing off as he realized what had happened. "I'm dead?"
"No, Anakin. Unconscious. Briefly permitted to enter the realm of the Force. It is the only way you may visit those deceased who are not Jedi and so cannot pass through the veil." He motioned him away. "Come. There are those you must meet."
He followed Jango. The landscape became drier, sandy and rocky, almost like Tatooine or Geonosis. Strangely enough, he felt almost at home here.
"Ani?"
He halted in his tracks, tears springing forth. For the woman approaching him, grinning broadly, arms extended, was his mother. Shmi Skywalker Lars, his sole parent, the woman who had striven to teach him kindness and generosity... the woman who had died in his arms, driving him to grief and the dark side.
"Mom," he choked, falling into her arms. Waves of shame inudated him as he sobbed against her. "Mother, I'm so sorry. I wanted to make you proud of me, but I failed you."
"My son," she breathed, stroking his cheek as she had so often when he was a small boy. "You have no reason to be sorry."
"But... I did so many horrible things. I promised I'd come free you, and I never did. I became a Sith..."
"Oh, Ani," she interrupted. "You did all you could to help me. You brought balance to the Force, and I'm so proud of you for that."
"We all are," an aged man added, stepping up with his wife at his side.
"Owen!" he cried, recognizing the man. "And Beru!"
"You and your son -- my nephew -- have done us proud," Owen went on. "I wish we'd gotten to know you better, but all I can say is you did well."
"I always knew Luke would follow in your footsteps," Beru added. "It was just a matter of time."
"And knowing which of my footsteps to follow," Anakin replied.
"That's true," Owen acknowledged.
"Ani!" Amphibious arms grabbed him in a wild embrace. "Mees'n so smilin' to be seein' yousa!"
"Good to see you again, Jar Jar," Anakin replied, prying the Gungan's arms off.
"Yous'n do bombad!" Jar Jar babbled. "An' yous'n son, too. Mees'n bustin' wit' happiness to be seein' him an' my daughter in Rogue Squadron..."
"Wait a minute," interrupted Anakin. "You have a daughter?"
"Cleiko Binks, but hers'n mother be callin' her Trigger, 'cause'n she be good shot wit' a blaster," Jar Jar explained. "Mees'n be missin' her bombad."
"If I ever see her, I'll tell her I met you," Anakin replied.
Jar Jar grinned. "Thanks muy muy, Ani!"
Shmi smiled, and she stepped aside as another figure approached, still as radiant as she had been over twenty-four years ago when he saw her last.
"Padme," he breathed.
She ran to him. "Anakin!"
They embraced, crying. He kissed her passionatley, reveling in the feel of her against him, never minding the eyes of the others.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to hide the children to protect them. I'm so sorry. You should have known..."
"I don't hold it against you, my love," he replied gently. "Had I known, the Emperor would have found out and quite possibly destroyed them."
"Oh Anakin," she sighed, burying her face in his shoulder. "I love you."
"And I you."
"Anakin." Jango's voice broke up the happy reunion. "It's time to go."
"What?" He whirled to face the hunter. "But I just got here!"
"I said it would be brief, didn't I?" Jango replied. "The living can only remain here a short time. The Force has been generous enough as it is."
Anakin turned back to his family. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Soon enough, Anakin," Padme told him. "You're time is not yet up. There is still much for you to do. But we'll be together again soon."
He embraced Padme one last time. "I love you. I'll miss you all very much." Even as he spoke those around him began to fade.
"May the Force be with you," Owen said.
"One last thing," Jango added, his voice becoming hollow as he went transparent. "When you wake up, tell my son I'm very proud of him. And to quit his wallowing."
"Lord Vader?"
He blinked, and in that split second his eyes were shut the scene of his deceased friends and family was wiped away. In their place were the concerned faces of Luke, Rachel, and a single stormtrooper.
"Are you okay?" asked Luke. "You were saying something about Jar Jar."
He sat up with a groan. "I'm fine."
"How many fingers am I holding up?" asked Matthews, holding up a hand.
"What am I, stupid?" asked Anakin.
"He was just checking for double vision," said Diana.
"Yay, he's okay!" Rachel squealed, throwing her arms around him.
"Ouch! Watch the shoulder!"
"You got an owie!" she noted, spotting the gouge. "I'll kiss it better."
A siren began blaring, and a monotone voice sounded.
"Self-destruct mechanism activated. Five minutes to detonation."
"Self-destruct?" shrieked Liz. "What the hell were the others thinking?!"
"Can we shut it off?" asked Conrad.
"It's risky, but perhaps we can," Anakin replied. "Follow me to the bridge."