Identity of the Pilot
"It was Luke Skywalker who fired the shot that destroyed the Death Star." I could hardly believe what I was hearing, even though I'd felt that the Force was strong in the pilot. If the mechanical pumps could have stopped breathing I would have. I had to learn more, especially after what I'd felt in the trenches. Sure enough, the more I found, the more convinced I became that my son had survived. Had grown up on the same planet that I had, the one that I had no reason to return to.
Or so I thought.
It wasn't just the need to find an apprentice that led me to search the Galaxy for you. The relief that I hadn't killed my own children was like nothing I'd felt before. It meant that I might not be completely alone and isolated in the Galaxy. It meant that I could have part of Padmé back.
The child who was the result of our love.
I'd found my best chance of finally doing what I should have done years before. I could kill Palpatine and make the Galaxy into what I'd wanted it to be. There would be no more following a man who I now realized had never shown any interest in anything but gaining more power for himself.
I was a fool to think he had any interest in saving my wife and children.
After our duel, I still wanted to see you again. I just never thought that I would without doing yet another search of the Galaxy. But I did, although I could hardly believe you would willingly come to me.
Seeing you being hit with Sidious' lightning bolts, close to death, I don't know how I ever thought that I could just stand by and watch. It didn't matter that I'd been expected, for my whole life it seemed, to be a slave. Instead, I finally felt free. That I had a choice for one of the few times in my life. I knew that I did not have to let my Master kill my own son.
And as I hate to leave you as soon as I have found you, it's better this way. For we all have our time to become one with the Force.
