The Battle of Cloud City was probably the shortest offensive in the Alliance's history. In fact, it wasn't so much a battle as it was simply nipping at the Empire's heels to force them on their way. The Imperials were already retreating; all the Rebels could do was offer a few parting shots.
Rogue Squadron did almost shoot down a shuttle taking off from the Baron Administrator's palace. But at the last minute the ship evaded and shrieked away.
Mothma's shuttle, meanwhile, touched down in the city square, and she strode toward the palace with a grim expression. She had no idea what Luke and Vader were doing here, but she had a feeling that nothing good had come of it.
Admiral Piett stepped forward and gave a respectful bow. "Madam Mothma. I remember you from your days as a Senator."
"Welcome to the Alliance, Piett," she replied. "You were a Senate guard, if I remember correctly. You had a beard then."
He smiled. "I was a bit of a rebel in my youth, no pun intended."
"Perhaps you can explain what happened here," she requested, gesturing behind her. Rebel soldiers were everywhere, treating the injured and talking to civilians who had not been able to evacuate.
"I can try," Piett replied, "but even I don't understand it all. From what I heard and saw, the Emperor and Kain had decided to set a trap to capture Skywalker, and they were using several of his friends as bait. Skywalker and Vader arrived, and when I told them about the Emperor's plot they ordered me to contact the Rebellion and went separate ways. I didn't see them again after that."
Mothma gazed skyward. "Palpatine and Kain have evacuated," she said gravely. "My guess is that they have what they came for."
Piett's eyes widened slightly.
"Madam Mothma!" Wedge shouted, running from the palace. "We found Luke! He's badly injured, though. Chewie's wounded and Princess Leia has a concussion. The Baron's taking them to the palace med center as we speak."
"Thank the Force," she replied. "What of Vader?"
"Rogue Squadron's searching the building as we speak."
"Is Luke coherent enough to tell us where he might be?" Mothma asked.
"He passed out soon after we found him," Wedge replied. "Kain roughed him up pretty badly and took his hand off before leaving him."
Piett winced. "Kain's a brutal man. Luke was lucky he didn't receive worse."
Wedge's comlink beeped. "Just a moment." He thumbed it on. "Antilles."
"We found Vader!" Zev exclaimed on the other side of the connection. "Fourteenth floor, hanging half-off a balcony. He's in really bad shape, but he's alive."
"Get him to the med center immediately!" Wedge ordered.
Mothma motioned to Piett. "Find General Madine, and he'll have you registered as a member of the Alliance. I have business to tend to, then we'll talk a little more. Any information you may have regarding the Empire will be appreciated."
"Yes, my lady." He bowed again before departing.
She strode into the palace. She would have to talk to the Baron Administrator, then a discussion with Skywalker and Vader was in order. The sooner they got to the bottom of this situation, the better.
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Luke clenched his teeth as he sat down in the med center's visitor's room, his fractured ribs sending tendrils of fire snaking through his torso. "Explain to me why you couldn't just graft my hand back on," he complained, holding up his uncooperative bionic prosthetic.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Skywalker, but the nerves and blood vessels were too badly damaged for a grafting operation to be successful," the doctor replied in a condescending tone, as if addressing a child. "But you'll get used to it fast enough." He offered a smile and went back into the examination room.
Chewie limped over to sit by Luke, giving a slight whimper as he favored his wounded leg.
"At least you still have all your parts in the right place," Luke groaned.
Leia was seated on his other side, looking exhausted but otherwise fine. "I'm sorry, Luke," she told him.
"What for?" he asked. "You didn't cut off my had, or slice up my chest, or burn my shoulder, or kick me in the ribs. Kain did all that."
"I'm sorry you had to suffer all this because of us," she replied, taking his flesh-and-blood hand in hers.
"Leia," he told her gently, "this wasn't your fault. You didn't know Kain had set a trap, or that he was after me. Besides, even knowing that I'd get the poodoo kicked out of me, I'd do it again for you."
She smiled briefly.
"I only wish we could've gotten Han back," he went on.
Her smile vanished, and she looked away.
"Hey now, what'd I say?" he asked. Then it occurred to him. "You think I'm jealous, don't you?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "I mean… I've always loved you, Luke… just not that way."
"I know." He rested his bionic hand atop hers. "The Rogues have seen it coming a long time. And I'm happy for you, now that something's come of it."
She smiled again, tears in her eyes.
"We'll get him back, Leia," he vowed. "There'll be a way. You'll see."
Lando entered the room. "I'm sure glad you showed up when you did. We really owe you." He extended a hand toward Leia. "On behalf of Cloud City, I thank you, and I expressly apologize for what happened to you and your friends."
She reluctantly shook his hand. "I accept your apology."
"Thank you." He turned to Luke. "Any word on Vader's condition?"
"No," Luke replied. "Forenze is with him right now."
He looked at his feet a moment before speaking again. "My only thought in this situation was to protect my people from the Empire. I'm sorry that my efforts caused the Alliance injury, but I saw no alternatives. If it's any consolation, you have the aid of Cloud City in the fight against the Empire – and my help in getting Han back from Jabba the Hutt."
"That would be most appreciated," Leia replied.
Rogue Squadron filed into the room next, plying Luke with questions and greetings.
"Where were you two?" demanded Gavin. "We were worried sick about you! We thought the Empire had captured you!"
"What happened to Vader?" Zev asked. "He was half-dead when I found him!"
"Stang, you look awful," Mela noted.
Forenze emerged from the hallway leading to the intensive care unit, mercifully cutting off any further prying.
"How is he?" Luke asked worriedly.
"Oh, Zev's exaggerating," she assured him, glaring at the young Rogue. "Yes, he was pretty beat-up, but far from half-dead. Second- and third-degree electrical burns, some laceration from going through the window, fractured ribs and pelvis from the fall… nothing needing a full-scale bacta immersion, but he's not going to be on his feet for awhile. But he's a fighter; he'll recover from his physical injuries pretty quickly if I know him."
"Physical injuries?" repeated Leia. "Do you mean to say something else happened to him?"
Forenze shrugged, an unusually concerned expression on her face. "He says he faced the Emperor. That's all I can get out of him. I dunno what that corpse did to him, but it's really shaken him. He won't talk about it – he won't say much of anything, for that matter. He does say that he would like to see Luke." She gestured toward him. "In fact, he refuses to see anyone else."
Luke carefully got to his feet, grimacing. Wedge and Janson were immediately at his side to help him, but he waved them away.
"I'm tough," he told them. "I'm a Rogue, remember?"
Weak laughter met that statement.
Forenze led him through the sterile hallway and opened the fifth door. "I'll be outside. Holler if either of you need anything." She smiled wanly. "You know, you've grown up somehow, Skywalker. I can see it in your eyes."
"Vader and I have been through a lot," Luke replied.
She nodded. "Your old master paid me a visit while Kain had me cooped up. He told me what you two were up to. Jedi Knights, eh?"
"Not yet." He stepped into the room. "I'll tell you more later."
"Okay. Right now, your friend needs you worse than I do."
The room was darkened save a lamp near the head of the bed. Monitors hummed and beeped around Vader's prone form, and a light blanket had been pulled up to his chest. Vader lay still, staring quietly at the ceiling, his hands folded over his breastbone.
"Father?" Luke sat down in the chair beside the bed, never taking his eyes off Vader. "It's me."
Vader made no move to acknowledge his presence. Up close Luke could now see the extent of the damage he'd suffered in his battle with the Emperor. He was wearing a sleeveless tunic that mostly covered his severely burned and scarred chest, but his left arm was visible, fresh cuts and burns overlaying the old scars and pale skin. His bionic right arm had been stripped of its artificial skin to make repairs to the mechanical components, and it glittered eerily in the light. Scorch marks blotched his skin and mask, and thick bandages covered the worst of his wounds. For the first time Luke saw just how broken Vader was, how much he relied on technology to survive.
/No wonder he wants to get rid of the mask so much./
"Talk to me, Father," he urged.
Vader gave a shudder, and for a moment Luke feared he was going into a convulsion. But his hands reached up and took Luke's in a desperate grip.
"Luke," he groaned, "I've been a fool."
"This isn't your fault," Luke assured him. "How could either of us ignore the Force, no matter where it lead us…"
"No, Luke," he interrupted. "Not that. I've been a great fool all my life." His grip tightened. "I should have been there for you, Luke. I should never have believed the Emperor's lies and empty promises."
"What do you mean?"
He looked away, ashamed to meet Luke's gaze. "I remember, Luke. I remember it all."
Shocked, Luke stared open-mouthed at his father. "The amnesia… it's gone?"
"The Emperor restored my memory," he replied quietly. "I think… I think he hoped to regain my loyalty."
A long silence followed that statement. Luke stared at his father's masked face, still trying to comprehend what had been done. Vader's memory had been restored… small wonder he was in such deep shock! To suddenly remember he had been a Dark Lord of the Sith and a servant of the Emperor…
"Luke, what have I done?" Vader whispered, shaking with emotion. "What have I done?"
"Father…" Luke couldn't think of anything to say. Instead of speaking he leaned over the bed and carefully embraced him, trying not to disturb his wounds. Vader clung to him as if he were a lifeline, his mask gouging painfully into Luke's shoulder as he wept with a lifetime's worth of remembered agony, his body wracked with sobs. He shared his father's pain as his father had shared his anguish at Bekme's death so long ago, held him as his father had on Dagobah yesterday… stang, had it really only been yesterday?
"It's going to be okay," he assured him. "I'm here."
"How can you stand to touch me, knowing what I've done?" moaned Vader. "I hurt innocent people, every day, without remorse. I destroyed the Jedi Order. I spent twenty-four years in the throes of the dark side. How can I ever be absolved of that?" His grip on Luke tightened. "Perhaps I should have been left to die on Yavin…"
"Don't talk like that," Luke ordered. "You're my father. I don't care what you've done – that doesn't change who you are. I'm not going to leave you. Ever."
Vader shuddered again. "Yoda was right."
"What does that mean?"
"Every time I've taken a step toward the dark side, it's been my emotions that have driven me to take that step. My passions and hatred kept me chained for over two decades… and I was too blind to see it. Perhaps the Jedi weren't so stupid after all."
Luke shook his head. "No, Father. You and I know both know it's wrong to deny someone the right to feel. So much good comes from love. I'm not going to give up the right to love my friends… or my father."
Vader released him and leaned back, looking his son in the eye. "Even if it means leaving the Order?"
He hesitated. Could he really reject the Jedi Order? But he realized that if he didn't make a stand for what he believed, nothing could be changed.
"Maybe it's not us that needs to change," he replied. "Maybe it's the Code that needs to change."
Vader stared at him. "Yoda's going to skin you alive for that comment."
"I don't care," Luke retorted. "To me it's worth it."
Vader's hand came up to brush his face. "I'm proud of you, Luke. And your mother would have been proud of you as well." A faint chuckle issued from his mask. "You have her smile."
He felt something wet slide down his cheek. "Tell me about her sometime."
"Why not now?"
"Are you sure? I mean, you've had quite a day…"
"With a broken pelvis, I'm not going anywhere for a while," Vader retorted. "Forenze will flog me if I even try to get out of this bed. Besides, I made you a promise, didn't I?"
Luke settled back in his chair. "Yeah, you did. I just wasn't expecting it all at once."
"Does that mean you've changed your mind?"
"Are you kidding? Ever since I was a little kid I've wanted to hear this."
"Some of it is rather disturbing, I'll warn you."
"But I want to hear it. I need to understand what made you do what you did."
"Very well," Vader replied, his hand closing around Luke's. "I suppose I should start at the beginning, with your grandmother… my mother…"
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Forenze removed her ear from the door and walked on, a smile on her face. She realized what she had done wasn't exactly ethical, but she justified it by telling herself that she had to know what had transpired between Vader and Palpatine. After all, she was responsible for his care.
So he was Luke's father. That had surprised her greatly, but now she found it oddly appropriate. Those two were alike in so many ways.
For a moment she wondered if she should tell Mothma of Luke and Vader's blood relation – or of Vader regaining his memory. But she dismissed the thought. They deserved some confidentiality. And she had kept plenty of secrets for her patients before.
/Let it stay quiet for now/ she decided. /The gundark'll be out of the bag soon enough./
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The officer who'd replaced Piett was to be pitied – his career as Admiral lasted a scant two hours. Darth Kain was in such a rage from his physical pain and failure to destroy Skywalker that he killed five officers and reduced two medical droids and three cybernetic hands to scrap before his fury ebbed.
Then he went and knelt before the Emperor, outwardly submissive but seething indignantly within.
"You disappointed me, Kain," Palpatine said sternly. "You had strict orders to capture Skywalker, not to kill him."
"I'm deeply sorry, Master," he replied without meaning anything of the sort.
"You don't lie well, Kain," Palpatine retorted. "You intended to kill Skywalker. You aren't repentant in the least."
"The rule is always two, Master," Kain countered. "Not three, not four, two. We don't need to recruit the Skywalkers. We need to destroy them!"
"It is not your place to say whether or not the Skywalkers join us, Kain," snarled the Emperor. "The decision is mine alone. You will carry out my orders without exercising judgments of your own."
Kain ground his teeth and clenched his cybernetic right hand. The limb was nowhere near as adequate as a bionic prosthetic. It was heavy and clumsy – and it hurt. The rods and wires buried in his flesh seared constantly. Was this his punishment for disobeying his master?
He focused on the pain, absorbing it, feeding off it to fuel the dark side.
/I will kill you yet, Luke Skywalker/ he vowed. /And not even the Emperor can stop me./
"It is most interesting, however, that you reported Princess Leia to be strong in the Force," Palpatine went on. "Are you sure your feelings are clear on the matter?"
"They are clear, my master."
"How interesting," he noted. "How very interesting."