Disclaimer: insert witty, sarcastic humor here Alright, alright. SW ain't mine. Happy?

LVB: Why thank you...I'm flattered, lol.

jedi71: Thank you. As I said, Leia won't be finding out for a while, though, and when she does...circumstances will have changed.

Part III

I must have dozed off as I was awakened by the hiss of a door opening. I rubbed my eyes and got up. Leia was there - I almost jumped at that. Maybe I could explain everything to her, and she'd understand. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"Hello, Vader." I winced inwardly then silenced any emotion I might have felt. I had to remain strong, at least in front of Leia.

"Leia—"

"I have some good news," She interrupted, her facial expression stoic. "Good for me, I mean. I would have left you in the dark, but considering that you are…dark…" She trailed off, smiling maliciously. I took the opportunity to speak.

"Leia, you…you don't understand. I – I can explain everything, hear me out, alright?" Leia snorted in contempt.

"Believe me, I know all about your little exchange with Vader. Word for word." I gaped at her, confused. Then why was she acting that way? Surely she would understand…Wouldn't she?

"Then you do know that I am not a traitor." She smiled brightly, but there was something wrong about it, something fake.

"Oh, I know that," She said with a small laugh, then became serious again. "But they don't. They think you've known all along and have been infiltrating the alliance. Fools. I didn't come here just to say hi to you, not that I'd want to." I clenched my teeth and bit back a bitter retort.

"And," She added mock-cheerfully, "if everything goes as I anticipate, you will die." She might as well have stabbed me with a lightsaber and left it there, leaving me to bleed and die. I stared at the floor and tried to keep my resolve intact. Collecting myself, I looked up at her. She leered at me.

"Then…then w-why don't you just kill me yourself? Why don't you just slaughter me with your bare hands?" Leia looked mildly amused, though I meant each and every word of it.

"Oh, come now. Have you no common sense? Picture this, Vader. Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, rebel leader, brutally murdering Commander Skywalker, hero of Yavin, the last of the Jedi and overall living legend…that would not exactly fit my image, now would it? I would have opted for a messier, bloodier death, but in this situation, I had to be more…subtle. A little more sleight of hand was required…" I tried to keep my breathing even, to keep my cool, to keep the tears at bay, but my attempts were in vain. Leia chuckled softly.

"Something wrong? Did I hurt your feelings?" I chose to ignore that. I could not let her get to me; that was her exact intention.

"You can't do this, Leia." I breathed. She feigned surprise.

"Oh? And why is that?" I found myself with nothing to say. There was no logical reason.

"Because…because…"

"Even if I did want to, there is nothing I can do to stop it. Your fate depends on them. I will see you at the funeral, if they even deem you worthy of one…" She left before I could reply, leaving me alone with my thoughts, alone with my misery. She left me alone. All alone. I cast my eyes down and leaned my forehead against the wall.

"Leia…" I whispered. "I know I failed you. I know I wasn't there when you needed me. I know I'm not Han. I know I am everything you hate most. And I'm sorry, Leia." But she wasn't there to hear me. I could apologize a thousand times and it would hold no meaning. Did anything I say have meaning? Or was it all one gigantic lie, part of the lie that was my life?

The lie would end soon, in mere hours. This was the end. Finis. Death was hours if not minutes away. I was going to die. Oh Force, I was going to die. Unexpectedly, panic set in. Did I want this? Yes. I undoubtedly did. It was my only desire. It was my sole ambition. Could I die? No. Oh, it was more than possible. It was inevitable. But death was not an option, at least not at that time.

My mind raced, faster than I knew was possible. I had to get out of there, or die trying. There is no try…there is no die. I would get out of there. It wasn't that I did not want to die, for life ahead of me was empty. Without a cause, without a reason to fight, without a soul. It was so much easier to give in, but I knew I could not walk the easy path.

It wasn't that I feared death. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. Was this not suffering? Was this anything but pain beyond measure? I choked back a sob. Stars, I was a wreck…A wreck, just like the mess that was my life. So why didn't I just give up and wait for them to put me out of my misery?

I was a ruin, but it wasn't only me. Everything was messed up, and I knew I was the only one who could make things right again. Leia loathed me with a passion, but I did not return the feeling. I remembered vowing that I would find Han if it was the last thing I did. Maybe it would be the last thing I did. No…there was still my father – Yes, my father, I admitted to myself – to deal with. My dark, corrupt, baneful father. The essence of evil, an angel of death.

I shook myself out of my thoughts. Tempted as I was, I could not sit there and brood forever. I reached out with the Force and, flinching at Vader's cold, now ever-present Force sense, inserting my mind into theirs, knocked out the guards outside the cell. My abilities were far from reliable, but hopefully they would remain under for a while. Then I analyzed the door. The lock was on the outside, so the only way I could reach it would be with the Force. I hoped that I could focus enough to undo the locking mechanism. Here goes nothing.

Surprisingly enough, it worked. I slipped out of the cell and surveyed my surroundings. The guards – two of them - were still out cold. These guys are lax when it comes to security. They'd actually thought that they could keep me in one place for long… I then headed for the docking bays. Hopefully no one would notice me. If they did…well, I would have no choice but to kill them, or at least knock them unconscious.

They didn't see me, or paid me no mind when they did. Maybe the news of me being a Vader had not yet spread…In that case, they would not missed me until my guards woke up. I ran over to my X-Wing. Strangely enough, I heard a beep behind me. I whirled around, drawing my blaster, only to be greeted by the familiar sight of Artoo.

"Whoa, Artoo, you scared me. What are you doing here?" Artoo answered in a series of whistles and beeps. That droid never ceased to amaze me.

"Followed me, huh? Yes, I am leaving." He whirred and beeped insistently.

"Alright, we're leaving." The droid warbled a question.

"Yes, we're leaving forever." He beeped enquiringly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you." I could have sworn I saw him nod in understanding. For a moment my thoughts strayed to the subject of Rogue Squadron. I hated to leave so abruptly, but I wouldn't have regained my position either way. Still, I would miss the rogues.

The next part of my escape went quite smoothly – an X-wing wasn't out of place in a Rebel fleet. Once I was in hyperspace, a sigh of relief escaped me. I was free, or about as free as I could get. I was like a bird, free, but forever wandering. I had nowhere to go now…No, I did. I would go to Tatooine and rescue Han. I would not leave that to Leia – it was more dangerous than she thought, and it was my duty. I could not break my promise to her.

Approximately one standard week later…

I pulled my black, hooded cloak tighter around me as the wind buffeted me, blowing minuscule grains of sand into my face. Even after all these years, it was amazing how cold Tatooine nights were, especially for a planet with two suns. Still, I was a Jedi, a less than adequately trained one, but I had the mentality. Or at least part of it. Cold alone would not stop me. So I continued approaching Jabba's palace. Fat and ugly, it seemed to perfectly fit the Hutt's taste.

It was surprisingly easy to get in – they didn't expect many people to come there at night, and the Force could have a strong influence on the weak-minded – one thing Ben hadn't lied about. Apparently even gangsters like Jabba slept, but I shouldn't have been surprised. This was somewhere between late night and early morning.

I entered a large chamber, a throne room of some sort. On the far wall, under a spotlight, hung a slab of carbonite – Han, I realized with a pang. I stepped forward and studied the controls on the side of the coffin-like box. Then, I flipped a switch, and the carbonite began to glow red and crack, revealing the ex-smuggler's features.

A/N: Yeah, a little short, I know, but it's the best I can do for now. Feedback is always appreciated, be it good or bad.