Chapter 11
For all its surface glitz and glamour, Cloud City was first and foremost a mining colony. Thus, no square meter of space went to waste. Most buildings, even the most sophisticated restaurants and hotels, maintained refineries, storage facilities, or workers' quarters in their bottommost levels. The Baron Administrator's palace was a prime example of this, having been built atop a carbon-freezing chamber.
Vader ducked beneath a leaking, dangling hose as he carefully made his way through the facility. Like Dagobah, this room was shrouded in silvery mists. But whereas on Dagobah the fog was cool and smelled of fresh rain, here it made the air miserably muggy and stank like a foundry. Condensation collected on his lenses, and he had to pause frequently to wipe them clean.
What could be down here? It certainly wasn't Han, Leia, or Forenze. It was familiar, yes, but not anyone he'd met recently. Perhaps it was a face out of his past. Whatever it was, it called to him like a beacon, and he couldn't rest until he located and identified it.
He sensed movement to his left, and he whirled, one hand hovering over his weapon. A squat form was approaching, reduced to a shadow by the clouds of steam. One of Cloud City's resident Ugaughts? Then a series of beeps betrayed the being's identity.
"What are you doing down here, Artoo?" he hissed.
The astromech chimed merrily.
"Thank you, but I don't need your help."
Artoo let out a long spiel.
"Shush! If you want to do something to help me, find Luke and the others. I must do this alone."
He gave a disappointed whine and turned around, slinking off like a sulky child. He had to chuckle a little at the droid's attitude.
A glowing round portal shone in the floor several paces away. He approached and peered curiously down into the chamber. Solidified carbonite crusted the nozzles – obviously someone had used this not long ago.
Then he remembered the wave of agony he'd felt on Dagobah – a cold fire searing his skin and cutting into his bones. They'd frozen Han in here! He couldn't suppress a revolted shudder. If he'd needed proof of Kain and Palpatine's cruelty, here it was.
An icy tendril of the Force, like a decayed hand, touched his mind, and he drew his weapon as he turned to its source.
"Welcome back, my young apprentice."
A cowled form separated itself from the shadows.
He activated the saber. "Palpatine."
The Emperor stepped into view, his pasty features yellowed by the sickly light. A claw-like hand clenched his hooded black robe shut while he gripped a twisted ebony cane with the other. His zombie-like orange eyes glowed, alight with a malicious delight. His entire form was bent and gnarled, and his signature in the Force felt diseased, corrupted, devouring its bearer like an incurable cancer.
/He's like a parasite/ Vader thought. /A parasite that, lacking a host, is starved and eating of itself, destroying itself./
But his face… Vader was hard-pressed to decide what that face most resembled. It was predatory, like a cannibal or a rapist, with a desperate desire to possess all he could and destroy what he couldn't. A light of insanity glittered in his eyes, and the hideous smile he wore told Vader that he gloried in his own madness. A madman, a fanatic, a murderer, a predator… he was all this and more. He was all that was evil and vile and filthy in this universe.
Vader shuddered again, feeling defiled by his very gaze. This being was very familiar, yes, but specific memories were beyond his grasp. Somehow he felt used, betrayed, manipulated and cast aside by this man.
"You have returned to me, my friend," the Emperor continued, his smile widening.
Vader brought the saber between them as a shield. "You're no friend of mine."
He gave a slow laugh as if enjoying some private joke. "Oh, we were good friends once, my apprentice." His gaze moved up and down, taking in Vader. "Good stars, you look horrible. What have they done to you?"
"My true friends," he retorted, "helped me shed my armor. They healed my wounds and accepted me as their own, far more than you ever did for me."
"So they did heal you." A light of recognition shone in his eyes. "Medical Officer Forenze played a part, yes? It isn't uncommon for patients to form bonds with their doctors, but your friendship with her seems… something more."
"That's not your concern," Vader hissed. "Yes, she healed me. Under your influence I hurt her, but she forgave me and did all she could free me from the bondage of my cybernetic components. You, however, kept me a slave to machinery for years." He assumed a defensive stance. "Did you enjoy keeping me in pain?"
"You assume too much. Have you never considered that the Alliance had ulterior motives for winning your trust – specifically, gaining the services of a healthy Force-user?" Palpatine gestured toward his lightsaber. "Put it away, my apprentice. You're going to hurt someone."
"I'm NOT your apprentice!" Vader shouted.
Again that cold laugh. "You will be, my friend. Before long you'll be begging me to take you back under my wing."
He only glowered at the monarch.
"You don't remember me, do you?" His smile looked almost sympathetic now. "No, of course you don't. Otherwise you never would have left my side. You have forgotten me for a time." He beckoned for Vader to follow him. "Come with me, and we will talk."
He stared, incredulous, as Palpatine turned his back on him and slowly walked away. Wasn't the Emperor going to attack him? Why did he insist on calling him "apprentice?" And what made him think he was going to abandon the Jedi cause and join him all over again?
Confused, he followed the Emperor, not quite understanding what he was doing or why.
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When Luke finally found Leia, Forenze, and Chewie, they were out on one of the palace's landing platforms, firing upon a maroon-plated arrow-shaped starship. By the time he caught up with the group, it had blasted away.
"Where's Han?" he asked.
"Luke!" exclaimed Leia, throwing her arms around his neck. He winced as her battle-hot blaster, still clutched in one hand, pressed against his shoulder.
"What the stang are you doing here?" demanded Forenze.
"To help," he replied. "Where's Han?"
Leia didn't answer, only buried her face in Luke's chest.
"Darth Kain gave him to the bounty hunter," explained a dark man whom Luke didn't recognize. He extended a hand. "Lando Calrissian."
"Luke Skywalker," he replied.
"Oh, Master Luke!" exclaimed Threepio from Chewie's back. "Run! It's a trap!"
"People keep telling me that," he groaned as their group charged back into the palace. "But I had to come help you. Can we go after the hunter and rescue Han?"
"We'll never catch up with Aurra Sing's ship," Lando told him. "Right now, though, we need to get these three back to the Falcon and get out of here before Kain realizes they're missing."
"We can't leave without Vader," Luke told him. "We should go find him before we leave."
Lando's eyes widened. "Darth Vader's here?"
"He's a Rebel now," Luke explained. "Long story."
"I'd like to hear it sometime later," Lando replied.
"Oh, it's quite the tale," Forenze said amusedly.
They reached a huge white lobby, complete with a white sheet-metal sculpture in the center, which portrayed an abstract representation of a ringed planet. Stormtroopers were engaged in a miniature war with a group of miners and security guards, blaster fire peppering the air and making passage almost impossible. In the center of it all, a blue-and-white astromech unit watched the battle, fascinated.
"Artoo!" Threepio shouted. "Get out of there! You're going to get yourself hurt!"
The droid bleeped in return.
"Oh, never mind what happened to me! Just come here!"
A midnight-black form strode into the lobby, and a wave of the dark side swept across the room like a stiff breeze. The troopers and civilians ceased all movement and watched the Sith's approach.
"Surround them," Kain barked.
The troops obeyed, spreading out to form a circle against the walls of the lobby. Leia, Forenze, Lando, and Chewie lowered their guns warily as Kain approached. Luke slid his blaster back into its holster, drawing his lightsaber instead.
"Stay back," he told the others.
"Be careful," warned Leia.
None of the stormtroopers seemed to notice as the Rebels and Cloud City natives joined them in their silent circle. At this point, everyone but Luke and Kain had been reduced to the role of spectator.
The Sith stalked forward, his knee-length cloak billowing after him like half-furled wings. The silver slit of his visor marked the only break in the gleaming obsidian blackness of his armor. In one leather-gloved hand he held a black-hilted lightsaber, its blade a deep ruby and thrumming ominously. His gaze rested on Luke, ravenous and hating, filled with a twisted desire to tear the young Jedi apart, to crush him and wring the last of his life-force from him.
/Gee, happy to see you too/ he thought, trying to shake off the flash of terror that threatened to smother him.
Kain wasted no breath on a greeting. He slashed at Luke viciously, the crimson blade's progress barred by a beam of sapphire light. Luke felt the power of the strike vibrate up his arms.
"The Force is strong with you, young Skywalker," Kain rasped. "But you are not yet a Jedi."
He slashed at Luke's head. Luke recognized the maneuver as a feint and ducked, at the same time angling his blade to catch the second cut that sliced at his abdomen. Kain growled and thrust upward, breaking the lock of their blades and missing Luke's jaw by less than a centimeter.
Again and again their blades met, sparks flying as the shafts of energy grated against each other. Luke was forced to draw on every trick and drill Yoda had taught him to keep himself in one piece. Kain fought with a relentlessness that frightened Luke, as if it were impossible for him to tire.
At last Kain broke in his attack, and Luke swung furiously at his chest. But a fist in his gut caught him off guard, and he doubled over the Sith's arm.
Leia cried out a warning, and he managed to pull up from that vulnerable position in time to block a strike from above. The Dark Lord batted his weapon aside with ease and stepped back, spinning his blade about smugly.
/He's toying with me!/ he thought in shock.
"Is that the best you can do?" taunted Kain.
"You'll find I'm full of surprises," he retorted.
Kain cocked his head as if smirking. "Same here."
Luke brought his weapon to bear again. Kain whipped his blade forward to smash into the Jedi's sword. Rather than block the maneuver, Luke let the Sith's blade push his aside, and the momentum of the strike sent Kain staggering. Luke struck, and Kain barely managed to parry the blow.
The Force tolled a warning, and he took a Force-assisted leap as flames roared where his legs had been. He landed behind the Sith and slashed at his back, but Kain dropped to the floor, taking Luke's legs out from under him with a well-placed kick.
His breath fled his lungs as he landed. Gasping for air, he was vaguely aware of Kain rising, of another kick in the ribs that set off a fresh burst of agony.
/Ben, help me!/ he pleaded.
But Obi-wan didn't reply. His presence, once a constant companion, was gone. Luke was alone in this battle.
Gathering all his strength, he raised his weapon and slashed at Kain's legs. Kain blocked the blow but missed the foot smashing into his groin. Luke took advantage of his opponent's agony to get to his feet. By the time the Sith straightened again, growling in rage, Luke had assumed a defensive stance.
Kain gave a feral cry and charged. Luke raised his saber to shield himself, but Kain knocked the blade aside and brought his arm down across Luke's chest. Jagged blades protruding from his armor tore trails of fire in Luke's skin. He cried out in pain and danced away, the hanging flag of his ripped shirt exposing his bleeding chest.
Kain laughed cruelly, a savage joy emanating from him at his success in wounding Luke. His arm blades retracted, and he raised his saber again in invitation, daring the Jedi to attack.
/Where the stang is Father?/ Luke thought in frustration. /I need him!/
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When Palpatine finally stopped walking, he and Vader had reached the Baron Administrator's office on the top floor. The room's massive viewports offered a fantastic view of the city, chaotic though it was. The Emperor stood before the largest viewport and clasped his leprous-looking hands behind his back. Vader stepped up behind him, clutching his saber and preparing to run the dictator through.
"I don't think you want to do that just yet," Palpatine advised without turning.
"And why not?" demanded Vader.
"Because there is still much I must tell you, my apprentice," he replied. "Once I'm finished, you'll be free to destroy me if you still wish, but I think you'll change your mind."
"Nothing you have to say interests me," Vader snarled. "The thought of joining you a second time disgusts me. I'd rather die than be your stooge again."
"But you don't remember your years of loyal service to me, Vader. You don't remember the power of the dark side, its glory, the freedom it offers. And you don't remember the betrayals of the Jedi… especially Obi-wan."
"Obi-wan cares about me more than you ever could!"
Palpatine turned to face him, his face as somber as that of a grandfather about to deliver some sage advice. "How can you be sure of that? After all, this is the same Obi-wan who concealed your identity as Luke's father."
Vader only stared, caught without a retort.
"Ah yes, the Jedi's ways are so bizarre," he went on, running his fingertips across the glossy chrome surface of Lando's repulsordesk. "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no fear, no anger, no joy, no despair, and most blasphemously, no love. Only duty. Only mindless, undeterred, unquestioned loyalty toward whatever pet project the Council has pledged itself to. The negative emotions are forbidden – they only lead to the dark side. The positive emotions are forbidden – they only lead to negative emotions and, again, to the dark side. All emotion is evil because it makes Jedi think, question, and stray. And so the Jedi have erased emotion entirely from their Order."
He wanted to deny that, but he couldn't. His own thoughts were coming back to haunt him.
"I sense that you have issues with the Code." He smiled. "You were perhaps the smartest Jedi of all, Vader. You knew the power of releasing your emotions to become an unstoppable force. And for that the Jedi called you a traitor and sent Obi-wan to turn you back or destroy you – an action that left you crippled and dependant on a mask to survive."
Unconsciously Vader raised a hand, his fingers coming to rest on the sharp jut in his mask that mimicked a cheekbone. Obi-wan was responsible for this? No, it couldn't be…
…plasmatic blades clashing, searing agony, fire in his lungs, an azure saber slicing through his arm, molten lava crawling across his flesh, Obi-wan's desperate expression, Anakin's wild anguished cries…
"You remember now," Palpatine noted. "Yes, you remember."
Unwillingly his anger boiled, thrashing in his gut, seeking an outlet, a target. The blackness just beyond the edges of his vision stirred in lustful anticipation. He felt a dark desire to immerse himself in that demonic energy, to be bathed in it and absorb it for his own purposes…
/No!/ He clamped down on the power, sealing it off. He would not, could not, use the dark side again! He would not subject himself to that all over again!
"Don't be frightened, young one," Palpatine said as if addressing a child. "The power at your fingertips is nothing to fear. Revel in it. That's what you want, isn't it? To indulge in your emotion and the strength it grants?"
"No," Vader grated, though deep down he wasn't so sure.
"Ah, but you do." The Emperor clasped his cadaverous hands in front of him. "You do. You always have. And you came to me when the Jedi denied you the privilege of experiencing feelings. Didn't I teach you the value of trusting your heart?"
"You have no heart, you corpse!" he screamed.
"You do," came the reply. "Search it now. Seek the truth."
Vader stepped forward, seething, intent on plunging his weapon hilt-deep through this malignant creature…
…"And so, they've finally given you an assignment," Chancellor Palpatine mused. "Your patience has paid off."
"Your guidance more than my patience," Anakin demurred.
"You don't need guidance, Anakin," countered Palpatine, smiling benevolently. "In time you will learn to trust your feelings. Then you will be invincible."
They walked slowly toward the door of Palpatine's spacious office, comfortable in each other's presences. Indeed, Anakin felt far more at ease taking advice from Palpatine than from Obi-wan. Palpatine was kind and fair, never judging him like the Jedi always seemed to, and as generous with his praise as Obi-wan was with his criticism.
"I have said it many times – you are the most gifted Jedi I have ever met."
"Thank you, your Excellency," he beamed.
"I see you becoming the greatest of all the Jedi, Anakin," the Chancellor went on. "Even greater than Master Yoda…"
He halted in mid-step, unbelieving. He could never have so blithely trusted this monster! The Emperor had to have manufactured that memory! But his instincts spoke otherwise; Palpatine might have triggered the memory, but it had always existed in his mind at some level.
"Trust your feelings now, Vader," urged Palpatine. "Listen to them. Follow their guidance, whether it be to renounce them entirely and go back to mindless servitude toward the Jedi, or to embrace them and join me in comradeship.
A shiver crept up Vader's spine. He never thought that, in coming to Cloud City, he'd be involved in a life-or-death duel – not a battle of swords, but of words and wills, with his soul on the line. And the worst of it was that the Emperor was right – deep down he hated the Jedi Code for forbidding love and emotion. He was trapped between conflicting desires, torn between his power of emotion and his dedication to the Order.
"You know what you want," the Emperor crooned. "Come with me. Throw off the chains of the Jedi Code. Embrace the dark side. It is the only way."
"Never!" he cried. "I'll never join you!"
The Emperor's smile now revealed his decayed teeth. "You're bluffing, you fool."
He raised a palm, and blue-white ropes of lightning poured forth and slammed into Vader, throwing him over the desk and against the wall. Agony exploded through his body, searing through his nerves, his muscles and prosthetic limbs gripped in violent spasms.
/Luke!/
/Father!/ came the terrified answer.
But the pain overwhelmed all other thought.
For all its surface glitz and glamour, Cloud City was first and foremost a mining colony. Thus, no square meter of space went to waste. Most buildings, even the most sophisticated restaurants and hotels, maintained refineries, storage facilities, or workers' quarters in their bottommost levels. The Baron Administrator's palace was a prime example of this, having been built atop a carbon-freezing chamber.
Vader ducked beneath a leaking, dangling hose as he carefully made his way through the facility. Like Dagobah, this room was shrouded in silvery mists. But whereas on Dagobah the fog was cool and smelled of fresh rain, here it made the air miserably muggy and stank like a foundry. Condensation collected on his lenses, and he had to pause frequently to wipe them clean.
What could be down here? It certainly wasn't Han, Leia, or Forenze. It was familiar, yes, but not anyone he'd met recently. Perhaps it was a face out of his past. Whatever it was, it called to him like a beacon, and he couldn't rest until he located and identified it.
He sensed movement to his left, and he whirled, one hand hovering over his weapon. A squat form was approaching, reduced to a shadow by the clouds of steam. One of Cloud City's resident Ugaughts? Then a series of beeps betrayed the being's identity.
"What are you doing down here, Artoo?" he hissed.
The astromech chimed merrily.
"Thank you, but I don't need your help."
Artoo let out a long spiel.
"Shush! If you want to do something to help me, find Luke and the others. I must do this alone."
He gave a disappointed whine and turned around, slinking off like a sulky child. He had to chuckle a little at the droid's attitude.
A glowing round portal shone in the floor several paces away. He approached and peered curiously down into the chamber. Solidified carbonite crusted the nozzles – obviously someone had used this not long ago.
Then he remembered the wave of agony he'd felt on Dagobah – a cold fire searing his skin and cutting into his bones. They'd frozen Han in here! He couldn't suppress a revolted shudder. If he'd needed proof of Kain and Palpatine's cruelty, here it was.
An icy tendril of the Force, like a decayed hand, touched his mind, and he drew his weapon as he turned to its source.
"Welcome back, my young apprentice."
A cowled form separated itself from the shadows.
He activated the saber. "Palpatine."
The Emperor stepped into view, his pasty features yellowed by the sickly light. A claw-like hand clenched his hooded black robe shut while he gripped a twisted ebony cane with the other. His zombie-like orange eyes glowed, alight with a malicious delight. His entire form was bent and gnarled, and his signature in the Force felt diseased, corrupted, devouring its bearer like an incurable cancer.
/He's like a parasite/ Vader thought. /A parasite that, lacking a host, is starved and eating of itself, destroying itself./
But his face… Vader was hard-pressed to decide what that face most resembled. It was predatory, like a cannibal or a rapist, with a desperate desire to possess all he could and destroy what he couldn't. A light of insanity glittered in his eyes, and the hideous smile he wore told Vader that he gloried in his own madness. A madman, a fanatic, a murderer, a predator… he was all this and more. He was all that was evil and vile and filthy in this universe.
Vader shuddered again, feeling defiled by his very gaze. This being was very familiar, yes, but specific memories were beyond his grasp. Somehow he felt used, betrayed, manipulated and cast aside by this man.
"You have returned to me, my friend," the Emperor continued, his smile widening.
Vader brought the saber between them as a shield. "You're no friend of mine."
He gave a slow laugh as if enjoying some private joke. "Oh, we were good friends once, my apprentice." His gaze moved up and down, taking in Vader. "Good stars, you look horrible. What have they done to you?"
"My true friends," he retorted, "helped me shed my armor. They healed my wounds and accepted me as their own, far more than you ever did for me."
"So they did heal you." A light of recognition shone in his eyes. "Medical Officer Forenze played a part, yes? It isn't uncommon for patients to form bonds with their doctors, but your friendship with her seems… something more."
"That's not your concern," Vader hissed. "Yes, she healed me. Under your influence I hurt her, but she forgave me and did all she could free me from the bondage of my cybernetic components. You, however, kept me a slave to machinery for years." He assumed a defensive stance. "Did you enjoy keeping me in pain?"
"You assume too much. Have you never considered that the Alliance had ulterior motives for winning your trust – specifically, gaining the services of a healthy Force-user?" Palpatine gestured toward his lightsaber. "Put it away, my apprentice. You're going to hurt someone."
"I'm NOT your apprentice!" Vader shouted.
Again that cold laugh. "You will be, my friend. Before long you'll be begging me to take you back under my wing."
He only glowered at the monarch.
"You don't remember me, do you?" His smile looked almost sympathetic now. "No, of course you don't. Otherwise you never would have left my side. You have forgotten me for a time." He beckoned for Vader to follow him. "Come with me, and we will talk."
He stared, incredulous, as Palpatine turned his back on him and slowly walked away. Wasn't the Emperor going to attack him? Why did he insist on calling him "apprentice?" And what made him think he was going to abandon the Jedi cause and join him all over again?
Confused, he followed the Emperor, not quite understanding what he was doing or why.
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When Luke finally found Leia, Forenze, and Chewie, they were out on one of the palace's landing platforms, firing upon a maroon-plated arrow-shaped starship. By the time he caught up with the group, it had blasted away.
"Where's Han?" he asked.
"Luke!" exclaimed Leia, throwing her arms around his neck. He winced as her battle-hot blaster, still clutched in one hand, pressed against his shoulder.
"What the stang are you doing here?" demanded Forenze.
"To help," he replied. "Where's Han?"
Leia didn't answer, only buried her face in Luke's chest.
"Darth Kain gave him to the bounty hunter," explained a dark man whom Luke didn't recognize. He extended a hand. "Lando Calrissian."
"Luke Skywalker," he replied.
"Oh, Master Luke!" exclaimed Threepio from Chewie's back. "Run! It's a trap!"
"People keep telling me that," he groaned as their group charged back into the palace. "But I had to come help you. Can we go after the hunter and rescue Han?"
"We'll never catch up with Aurra Sing's ship," Lando told him. "Right now, though, we need to get these three back to the Falcon and get out of here before Kain realizes they're missing."
"We can't leave without Vader," Luke told him. "We should go find him before we leave."
Lando's eyes widened. "Darth Vader's here?"
"He's a Rebel now," Luke explained. "Long story."
"I'd like to hear it sometime later," Lando replied.
"Oh, it's quite the tale," Forenze said amusedly.
They reached a huge white lobby, complete with a white sheet-metal sculpture in the center, which portrayed an abstract representation of a ringed planet. Stormtroopers were engaged in a miniature war with a group of miners and security guards, blaster fire peppering the air and making passage almost impossible. In the center of it all, a blue-and-white astromech unit watched the battle, fascinated.
"Artoo!" Threepio shouted. "Get out of there! You're going to get yourself hurt!"
The droid bleeped in return.
"Oh, never mind what happened to me! Just come here!"
A midnight-black form strode into the lobby, and a wave of the dark side swept across the room like a stiff breeze. The troopers and civilians ceased all movement and watched the Sith's approach.
"Surround them," Kain barked.
The troops obeyed, spreading out to form a circle against the walls of the lobby. Leia, Forenze, Lando, and Chewie lowered their guns warily as Kain approached. Luke slid his blaster back into its holster, drawing his lightsaber instead.
"Stay back," he told the others.
"Be careful," warned Leia.
None of the stormtroopers seemed to notice as the Rebels and Cloud City natives joined them in their silent circle. At this point, everyone but Luke and Kain had been reduced to the role of spectator.
The Sith stalked forward, his knee-length cloak billowing after him like half-furled wings. The silver slit of his visor marked the only break in the gleaming obsidian blackness of his armor. In one leather-gloved hand he held a black-hilted lightsaber, its blade a deep ruby and thrumming ominously. His gaze rested on Luke, ravenous and hating, filled with a twisted desire to tear the young Jedi apart, to crush him and wring the last of his life-force from him.
/Gee, happy to see you too/ he thought, trying to shake off the flash of terror that threatened to smother him.
Kain wasted no breath on a greeting. He slashed at Luke viciously, the crimson blade's progress barred by a beam of sapphire light. Luke felt the power of the strike vibrate up his arms.
"The Force is strong with you, young Skywalker," Kain rasped. "But you are not yet a Jedi."
He slashed at Luke's head. Luke recognized the maneuver as a feint and ducked, at the same time angling his blade to catch the second cut that sliced at his abdomen. Kain growled and thrust upward, breaking the lock of their blades and missing Luke's jaw by less than a centimeter.
Again and again their blades met, sparks flying as the shafts of energy grated against each other. Luke was forced to draw on every trick and drill Yoda had taught him to keep himself in one piece. Kain fought with a relentlessness that frightened Luke, as if it were impossible for him to tire.
At last Kain broke in his attack, and Luke swung furiously at his chest. But a fist in his gut caught him off guard, and he doubled over the Sith's arm.
Leia cried out a warning, and he managed to pull up from that vulnerable position in time to block a strike from above. The Dark Lord batted his weapon aside with ease and stepped back, spinning his blade about smugly.
/He's toying with me!/ he thought in shock.
"Is that the best you can do?" taunted Kain.
"You'll find I'm full of surprises," he retorted.
Kain cocked his head as if smirking. "Same here."
Luke brought his weapon to bear again. Kain whipped his blade forward to smash into the Jedi's sword. Rather than block the maneuver, Luke let the Sith's blade push his aside, and the momentum of the strike sent Kain staggering. Luke struck, and Kain barely managed to parry the blow.
The Force tolled a warning, and he took a Force-assisted leap as flames roared where his legs had been. He landed behind the Sith and slashed at his back, but Kain dropped to the floor, taking Luke's legs out from under him with a well-placed kick.
His breath fled his lungs as he landed. Gasping for air, he was vaguely aware of Kain rising, of another kick in the ribs that set off a fresh burst of agony.
/Ben, help me!/ he pleaded.
But Obi-wan didn't reply. His presence, once a constant companion, was gone. Luke was alone in this battle.
Gathering all his strength, he raised his weapon and slashed at Kain's legs. Kain blocked the blow but missed the foot smashing into his groin. Luke took advantage of his opponent's agony to get to his feet. By the time the Sith straightened again, growling in rage, Luke had assumed a defensive stance.
Kain gave a feral cry and charged. Luke raised his saber to shield himself, but Kain knocked the blade aside and brought his arm down across Luke's chest. Jagged blades protruding from his armor tore trails of fire in Luke's skin. He cried out in pain and danced away, the hanging flag of his ripped shirt exposing his bleeding chest.
Kain laughed cruelly, a savage joy emanating from him at his success in wounding Luke. His arm blades retracted, and he raised his saber again in invitation, daring the Jedi to attack.
/Where the stang is Father?/ Luke thought in frustration. /I need him!/
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When Palpatine finally stopped walking, he and Vader had reached the Baron Administrator's office on the top floor. The room's massive viewports offered a fantastic view of the city, chaotic though it was. The Emperor stood before the largest viewport and clasped his leprous-looking hands behind his back. Vader stepped up behind him, clutching his saber and preparing to run the dictator through.
"I don't think you want to do that just yet," Palpatine advised without turning.
"And why not?" demanded Vader.
"Because there is still much I must tell you, my apprentice," he replied. "Once I'm finished, you'll be free to destroy me if you still wish, but I think you'll change your mind."
"Nothing you have to say interests me," Vader snarled. "The thought of joining you a second time disgusts me. I'd rather die than be your stooge again."
"But you don't remember your years of loyal service to me, Vader. You don't remember the power of the dark side, its glory, the freedom it offers. And you don't remember the betrayals of the Jedi… especially Obi-wan."
"Obi-wan cares about me more than you ever could!"
Palpatine turned to face him, his face as somber as that of a grandfather about to deliver some sage advice. "How can you be sure of that? After all, this is the same Obi-wan who concealed your identity as Luke's father."
Vader only stared, caught without a retort.
"Ah yes, the Jedi's ways are so bizarre," he went on, running his fingertips across the glossy chrome surface of Lando's repulsordesk. "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no fear, no anger, no joy, no despair, and most blasphemously, no love. Only duty. Only mindless, undeterred, unquestioned loyalty toward whatever pet project the Council has pledged itself to. The negative emotions are forbidden – they only lead to the dark side. The positive emotions are forbidden – they only lead to negative emotions and, again, to the dark side. All emotion is evil because it makes Jedi think, question, and stray. And so the Jedi have erased emotion entirely from their Order."
He wanted to deny that, but he couldn't. His own thoughts were coming back to haunt him.
"I sense that you have issues with the Code." He smiled. "You were perhaps the smartest Jedi of all, Vader. You knew the power of releasing your emotions to become an unstoppable force. And for that the Jedi called you a traitor and sent Obi-wan to turn you back or destroy you – an action that left you crippled and dependant on a mask to survive."
Unconsciously Vader raised a hand, his fingers coming to rest on the sharp jut in his mask that mimicked a cheekbone. Obi-wan was responsible for this? No, it couldn't be…
…plasmatic blades clashing, searing agony, fire in his lungs, an azure saber slicing through his arm, molten lava crawling across his flesh, Obi-wan's desperate expression, Anakin's wild anguished cries…
"You remember now," Palpatine noted. "Yes, you remember."
Unwillingly his anger boiled, thrashing in his gut, seeking an outlet, a target. The blackness just beyond the edges of his vision stirred in lustful anticipation. He felt a dark desire to immerse himself in that demonic energy, to be bathed in it and absorb it for his own purposes…
/No!/ He clamped down on the power, sealing it off. He would not, could not, use the dark side again! He would not subject himself to that all over again!
"Don't be frightened, young one," Palpatine said as if addressing a child. "The power at your fingertips is nothing to fear. Revel in it. That's what you want, isn't it? To indulge in your emotion and the strength it grants?"
"No," Vader grated, though deep down he wasn't so sure.
"Ah, but you do." The Emperor clasped his cadaverous hands in front of him. "You do. You always have. And you came to me when the Jedi denied you the privilege of experiencing feelings. Didn't I teach you the value of trusting your heart?"
"You have no heart, you corpse!" he screamed.
"You do," came the reply. "Search it now. Seek the truth."
Vader stepped forward, seething, intent on plunging his weapon hilt-deep through this malignant creature…
…"And so, they've finally given you an assignment," Chancellor Palpatine mused. "Your patience has paid off."
"Your guidance more than my patience," Anakin demurred.
"You don't need guidance, Anakin," countered Palpatine, smiling benevolently. "In time you will learn to trust your feelings. Then you will be invincible."
They walked slowly toward the door of Palpatine's spacious office, comfortable in each other's presences. Indeed, Anakin felt far more at ease taking advice from Palpatine than from Obi-wan. Palpatine was kind and fair, never judging him like the Jedi always seemed to, and as generous with his praise as Obi-wan was with his criticism.
"I have said it many times – you are the most gifted Jedi I have ever met."
"Thank you, your Excellency," he beamed.
"I see you becoming the greatest of all the Jedi, Anakin," the Chancellor went on. "Even greater than Master Yoda…"
He halted in mid-step, unbelieving. He could never have so blithely trusted this monster! The Emperor had to have manufactured that memory! But his instincts spoke otherwise; Palpatine might have triggered the memory, but it had always existed in his mind at some level.
"Trust your feelings now, Vader," urged Palpatine. "Listen to them. Follow their guidance, whether it be to renounce them entirely and go back to mindless servitude toward the Jedi, or to embrace them and join me in comradeship.
A shiver crept up Vader's spine. He never thought that, in coming to Cloud City, he'd be involved in a life-or-death duel – not a battle of swords, but of words and wills, with his soul on the line. And the worst of it was that the Emperor was right – deep down he hated the Jedi Code for forbidding love and emotion. He was trapped between conflicting desires, torn between his power of emotion and his dedication to the Order.
"You know what you want," the Emperor crooned. "Come with me. Throw off the chains of the Jedi Code. Embrace the dark side. It is the only way."
"Never!" he cried. "I'll never join you!"
The Emperor's smile now revealed his decayed teeth. "You're bluffing, you fool."
He raised a palm, and blue-white ropes of lightning poured forth and slammed into Vader, throwing him over the desk and against the wall. Agony exploded through his body, searing through his nerves, his muscles and prosthetic limbs gripped in violent spasms.
/Luke!/
/Father!/ came the terrified answer.
But the pain overwhelmed all other thought.