A/N: Star Wars does not belong to me. I just like to play in Lucas' world from time to time.

Part Five: Piercing the Darkness

The room that Padme had been brought to was opulent. Rich fabrics hung from the walls and around the wide bed. Deep carpets muffled her footsteps. A perma-fire glowed in the hearth, reflecting on the rare woods and tasteful tapestry that graced the furniture. A bank of wide windows provided a panoramic view of the Imperial City. Padme stood and looked out, reflecting that in less than a week she had been imprisoned three times and each time her cell had been more inviting than the last. But no matter how beautiful the prison, she was still a captive.

Their shuttle had set down a few hours ago and Piett, white-faced, had been led away. Padme felt sorry for him. He had only been doing his duty and now he would be interrogated and demoted, perhaps worse. Padme had been led to this room. A sumptuous meal awaited her, and a hot bath with real water. Her grey flight suit had been replaced with a long, white gown. Padme had dressed, eying herself in the mirror. She was painfully thin, and her hair had been cut short by the nursing staff at the hospital, but other than that she looked like an aristocrat on vacation. Or perhaps an honored guest, she mused. Anything but the prisoner she was.

What was going on? What was Palpatine playing at?

As though in answer to her question the door swished open and the same red-robed guards that had led her from the landing platform trooped in. They parted to reveal a heavily robed man. Padme could see little of his pallid face beneath the shadow of his cowl but she did not need to. She knew very well who he was.

"Chancellor Palpatine," she said, giving him no more that a regal nod of her head.

If her disrespect bothered him, he gave no sign of it. Indeed she could see the corners of his mouth twist into a smile. "Madam Skywalker," he returned.

Padme could not hide the tremor that ran through her. Of course he knew. Why else would she be here? She lifted her chin, meeting the eyes that seemed to glow beneath that hood defiantly.

"Why am I being held here?"

The Emperor's smile widened into a leer. He crossed the space that separated them, coming close enough that Padme had to take a step back to maintain her composure. "Come now, Padme. Surely someone as politically astute as yourself can guess the reason."

Palpatine's voice had used to be sonorous. She remembered the eloquent speeches he had given in defense of Naboo's interests before the Senate. But now his voice was a sibilant echo of the one she remembered. Nevertheless his words cut her, making her feel exposed and weak.

Padme shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she lied.

Palpatine turned from her and began to wander around the room, his seemingly aimless steps taking him to the bank of windows. He stood looking out, and Padme could see his horrible, sunken face reflected by the duraplex. It repelled her. There was something in Palpatine's very essence that felt foul and diseased. His reedy voice spoke from the window but seemed to permeate the room like the stench of death.

"Your son and your husband are on their way to me now."

"I have no husband!" Padme said quickly, forcefully. Anakin is dead, she thought.

Palpatine suddenly turned back to her, those eyes looking into her very soul.

"Yes," he said, his voice glowing with depraved triumph. "The man know as Anakin Skywalker is dead. And soon, Luke Skywalker will become my new apprentice."

"No," Padme gasped. The room went suddenly dark. There was not enough air, and Padme felt the darkness overtaking her, coming to claim her very soul. She fell to her knees, overcome by crushing despair. She felt Palpatine standing over her. She could not fight him, could not do anything but gaze into his horrible face.

"Oh yes," he cooed with mocking gentleness. He lifted one gnarled hand to touch her cheek. Padme flinched away, unable to bear that vile touch. "Your son, like his father, is now mine." Palpatine leaned closer and Padme felt his words, like black claws, sinking into her brain, tearing her apart. Her son... her bright, beautiful Jedi son...

"No!" Padme chocked out. "No. My son will never be yours. He won't fall, he won't turn." She grabbed onto that light and held it. "He won't." She said the words over and over like a mantra. "He won't. He won't."

Palpatine stepped back, the smile sliding from his face. "He will," he hissed. "And you will be there to watch it."

Leia Organa kicked the speeder into neutral and slowed, churning a spray of dust and sand in her wake. She shouldn't have gone off alone; Chewie and Lando would be furious at her. How could she explain that she had to do this? How could she explain that she'd run off, risking her life and their rescue of Han, to come out to a deserted farm in the middle of the desert? How could she explain the nearly elemental need she had to be here?

The need was a mystery, even to herself.

She loved Han. The confession that had ripped from her soul on Bespin had been in her heart all along; she had just refused, until that moment, to acknowledge it. But her terror at losing him had torn away all pretense and she had rushed forward, clinging to him desperately, flinging out the words she should have said a thousand times before.

"I love you!"

And he had grinned at her, that cocky scoundrel's grin that she loved to hate, and said, "I know."

The memory pierced her heart, nearly took her breath away.

But it was nothing compared to the feeling that Luke was now a captive of Darth Vader.

Luke, her friend. Luke whom she loved in a way she could not explain, not even to herself. Luke, who felt like some lost part of herself. She could not understand how it was possible and yet she had felt it, when he had walked into her cell on the Death Star and said, "I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you." Leia had felt a thrill of recognition so powerful that she had been rendered speechless. It made no sense and yet it was there, a connection between the two of them that she could not interpret or ignore.

That was why she'd had to come here. She had needed to see the place where Luke had grown up and to gather some remnant of the man who was lost to her now, and maybe forever.

Leia swung off the speeder bike and crunched towards the huddle of buildings, wondering for the millionth time, What does Vader want with Luke? It was true that Luke was wanted on various charges after the attack over Yavin. The price on his head was larger than her own, but something told her it wasn't just that. Was it because Luke was a Jedi?

Was he even a Jedi?

Leia had not seen him since they had evacuated Hoth. Perhaps he was. Perhaps that's why Vader wanted him so badly. Everyone knew that it was Vader who had betrayed and killed most of the Jedi knights. But if it was only that, if Vader only wanted Luke because he was the last of the Jedi, why take him alive?

It made no sense, and as Leia neared the spot she was looking for, she considered that there was something, some vitally important piece of information, that she was missing. Her brow furrowed as she came at last to her destination. Three mounds of earth rose up from the sand. Two were marked with metal stakes and Leia knew that this was the place where Luke had buried his aunt and uncle. He'd told her how he'd come back after meeting Ben Kenobi for the first time and found them, executed for harboring the droids that she had sent. Leia had felt a stab of sorrow for that and taken his hand, her mouth open to apologize.

"Don't," his quiet voice had silenced her. "It wasn't your fault."

Leia wished she could believe that. She laid her hands on the two graves and said a silent prayer for the spirits of the dead, before turning to the last grave.

It was Luke's grandmother, his father's mother.

Luke had never know his father, like her he was an orphan. But unlike her he had no links to his past, nothing but a cold grave to remind him of who his parents were. He did not remember his mother, not like she did. He had nothing; no past, no memories, and now, no future.

Leia felt the weight of grief bear her down and she bent her head, letting the tears come. We'll find him, she thought. We'll free Han and then we'll rescue Luke. But even as she thought it, Leia wondered if it was too late.

"Oh Luke," she murmured. She buried her hands in the sandy earth that was Shmi Skywalker's last resting place and cried. "Where are you? What has he done to you? Oh Luke, Luke!"

"Leia?" Luke raised his head, searching through the Force. For a moment, just a moment, he was sure he'd felt her, but then she was gone.

He had gone to bed the night before still disquieted by the absence of his mother. He had immediately begun to dream, dark dreams of Bespin. He was hanging from a parapet as his father's insidious voice spoke into his mind.

Join me. It is the only way.

"No!" Luke shouted above the wind, trying to push that voice away.

Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.

He was standing in front of Vader, his lightsaber at the ready, but Vader was strong, impossibly strong, and his blow sent Luke reeling. And then that blood-red blade bit down and pain swamped Luke's mind as he fell...

I am your father.

"No! My Anakin couldn't do this! NO!" Padme was screaming and that scarlet saber was coming down again, severing her hand and she fell.. fell...

"Your son, like his father, is now mine!" an evil voice hissed.

"No!" Luke had shot up from the bed, the sheets twisted around him. His breath had come in gasps, cold sweat raising on his body, and he had forced his mind to calm.

Something was wrong. Even after Luke had shaken off the last remnants of sleep he could not shake off the unease that gripped him. Something was wrong.

His mother was in danger. And Luke knew that it was because of him. She would never have been captured, Vader would have never known she existed, if he hadn't gone to Bespin. If only he had listened to Yoda and Ben. If only he hadn't been so intent on his own anger and his need for revenge.

Because of him Padme had suffered.

Because of him Han was frozen in carbonite.

Because of him Leia had been tortured by the only man she had ever feared. But at least she was still alive, still free. Beautiful, strong Leia...

And suddenly, he had heard her voice, her keening cry cutting across his Force sense.

Luke, Luke...

He reached out, trying to grab the thread of her trailing thoughts. Leia?

But it was no good. She could not answer him. She did not know how.

Luke sighed. The vague sense of unease was back and Luke felt worry gnawing at his soul. He sank onto the end of the bed and tried to relax, releasing his distress and disquiet into the Force as he had been taught. He cleared his mind, calmed his thoughts, and reached out, trying to pinpoint what it was that disturbed him so.

He could feel something... something dark and twisted in the Force.

Luke felt his father close by. He brushed his mind tentatively. Before, on Bespin, his father's mind had been definite, hard-edged with anger or hatred, but never conflicted, as is was now. The Sith's mind was swirling with emotion and Luke could sense his disquiet. Vader had felt the same sense of wrongness that Luke had felt and he was afraid of what it meant.

Father? Luke asked, but Vader's walls immediately came up, shutting Luke out. Luke pulled back, respecting his father's privacy. The dark presence in the Force was coming closer, tendrils of power trailing like twisted vines towards him. Luke instinctively pulled back, raising his own shields. A high-pitched cackle of laughter came to him before Luke broke the connection. He slumped back onto the bed, fighting the urge to be sick.

It had been Palpatine. Only a Sith master was capable of that sort of malevolence, that blight that he had felt across the Force. The Emperor had felt cold and truly, deeply evil. Luke shuddered at the memory of that dark laughter in his head. He had never felt anything so depraved.

And his father was taking Luke to him.

Luke felt fear twist in him and he struggled to contain it.

Father, he Sent again and was surprised when the door to his quarters slid open and Darth Vader stepped inside.

"Something's wrong. I think the Emperor has mother," Luke said without preamble.

"Yes, I know." Luke felt a momentary flash of something from his father-Rage? Pain? Fear?- but it was gone too quickly for him to identify it.

"What will he do to her?"

Vader turned away from him and for a moment Luke was afraid he wouldn't answer. Finally, he said, "He will use her to ensure your cooperation."

"And yours," Luke realized. His father had once offered him Palpatine's life. He wondered if the Emperor suspected that treachery. He wondered if his father could ever be free now.

"I can if you help me. Let me teach you to embrace your power. Only through Darkness can we defeat the Emperor and save Padme's life."

Luke could hear the desperation in his father's voice. He shook his head. "Darkness does not save life, Father. It destroys it."

"Abandon the weakness of the Jedi. Embrace the Darkness and together we can rule the galaxy."

It was the second time his father had offered him that, only this time Luke understood what it meant. To stand in Darkness forever, to be a slave to evil as his father was... it was unthinkable. "Is it weakness to love?" he asked seriously. "Is that why you turned?"

He could feel his father's presence in the Force reel at the question but he gave no outward sign of his emotions.

"I will not give in to Darkness, father. I cannot join you there." A sudden thought came to Luke, a thought that had been growing since he had felt his father comforting his mother after her nightmare. "But you could join me. You don't have to do this. I can feel the struggle within you. Let go of your hate."

For a moment Luke felt his father's emotions blaze bright across the Force- desperate desire, wild longing- and then it was gone and the moment passed.

"It is too late for me, my son. The Emperor will show you the true meaning of the Force. He is your master now."

Luke shook his head, wounded to the core. "Then my father is truly dead," he said sadly.

Vader did not answer. He turned and, with a flare of his cape, strode from the room.

Sidious knew the moment the boy set foot on Coruscant. He could feel the bright Light of the boy searing across the Force. That light was heady and powerful, and Sidious trembled with the need to bind that power and make it his. He had the key now. But inside him, a disquieting thought stirred.

Had he pushed Vader too far? It was true that concern for his wife had been instrumental in his turning, just as concern for the mother would twist the boy. Loyalty was the weakness of the Skywalkers. And that weakness was still present in Vader, he knew. His love was a failing, a refusal to turn completely to the Dark. But no- Vader was bound by threads stronger than he could ever break; Sidious was confident in that. His weakness was an annoyance, nothing more.

Besides, Vader only need last until the boy was turned.

Sidious turned his attention to the doors. Vader stood outside, and the boy blazed like a supernova beside him. Oh yes, the boy would make a fine apprentice. He had barely finished the thought when the door slid open and Vader preceded his son inside. He moved to the dais, bowing, and Sidious waved him up with a negligent flick of his wrist.

"His weapon." Vader handed him a lightsaber and Sidious took it, recognizing it at once. How ironic that the boy bore the blade that had cut down so many Jedi. His gaze fell sharply on Vader, wondering if he saw the irony as well, but his apprentice's mind was as closed as ever.

With a wry twist of his lips, the Emperor turned to the boy. "Welcome, young Skywalker. I have been expecting you."

The boy raised his blue eyes to the Emperor's face and stared contemptuously. Sidious felt his smile widen. Yes, a fine apprentice indeed!

"You no longer need those." With a slight movement of his fingers, Sidious sent a tendril of Dark energy towards the boy. The binders on his wrists fell away, clattering noisily to the floor. He saw the boy look down, then up at him again, and he caught a momentary flash- Skywalker's hands around his throat, squeezing the life out of him- before the boy looked away. Sidious could barely hold back a delighted laugh. Turning the son might be even easier than turning the father!

"Tell me, young Skywalker, who has been completing your training?"

The boy looked at him, his mobile face expressing surprise, before he smoothed it into unruffled calm again. "Oh, I know it was Obi-Wan in the beginning. I know well the talent Obi-Wan had for producing Jedi." Palpatine let his eyes linger on Vader for a long moment. "But Obi-Wan is dead, my apprentice saw to that. So who could it be?"

He pierced the boy with his gaze and the boy glared back, proud and silent. He could tell the words had hurt the young Jedi, as he knew they must. His father's fall was hard for the boy to take. Sidious remembered the pain that had cut across the Force when the boy had first learned that Vader was his father. It had been glorious, an orgy of agony and betrayal. Time now for the boy to see that betrayal cut both ways.

"There was another Jedi who escaped the Purges, a Master called Yoda." Sidious smiled when Luke flinched at the name. "Yes, I can see from your expression that I am right. Yoda, then. Tell me, young one, is the Master still living? We left something unfinished, he and I."

The boy's temper was unraveling, his thoughts unfurling like a flag. "Yes, he is still living... on..." Sidious pressed, "Dagobah! You almost hid that from me, Skywalker. But you will soon learn that you can keep nothing from me. Let that be your first lesson as my new apprentice."

"You are mistaken. I am not your apprentice, nor are you my master. You will not subvert me, as you did my father."

Fool! I already am. "It is you who are mistaken... about a great many things." He delved into the boy's mind, slipping easily past the hastily erected defenses. He tossed aside the boy's memories, his fears, his desires... looking for the bit of hope that he clung to so stubbornly. He finally found it and could not suppress

a triumphant cry. "So, you believe your father will join you? Young fool, by now you must see that your father will never be turned from the Dark Side. So will it be for you."

"I would rather die," Skywalker said flatly.

Sidious' mouth curled once more into a disarming smile. "That is not your destiny, young Skywalker."

He could feel the anger coming off the boy in waves, his Light dimming as the fury raised within him. Sidious' smile widened further. "You want this, don't you?" He patted the lightsaber beside him. "I can feel the hatred swelling in you now. Take you weapon. Strike me down with it. I am unarmed. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant!"

The boy struggled to control his anger and for one thrilling moment, Palpatine thought the young Jedi would call the saber to him. But then he turned away, breathing hard. Sidious laughed, a high, ugly sound.

"Give yourself to the Dark Side, my young apprentice. It is the only way you can save your mother."

The boy turned back, his face pale and his body taut with tension. "Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your concern for her is your weakness." The boy's hands clenched into fists of rage. The saber beside Sidious clattered as the boy's control shredded. Only one push would send him over the edge.

The Emperor bent and touched the comm on the arm of his throne. "Captain, bring the Lady Padme to me."

"NO!" The lightsaber soared into Skywalker's hand and with all his strength, he brought it down towards the Emperor. But Vader was there, his red blade crackling as it crossed his son's.

And below the crossed blades, Darth Sidious laughed.

Vader's parry knocked Luke back and he barely had time to bring his saber up before the red blade flickered out to meet him. Luke knocked it aside with difficulty, disengaging and falling back. He had drawn his lightsaber in anger and he struggled now to control his emotions.

A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge, never for attack. Vader moved toward him, saber raised, and Luke intercepted his father's blade, sending it to the left and dancing back. He needed time. He needed breathing room.

Vader allowed him neither. His father's riposte was swift and vicious, slashing down with the full strength of his arm behind it. Luke felt the Force of it all the way down to his bones. He struggled to turn the attack aside.

Father, please, he Sent. I don't want this! But his father was coldly silent.

Luke allowed himself to be pushed back, blocking each bone-crushing blow. He was weakening fast and he pulled the Light to him, clearing his mind and exorcising his anger. He feinted to one side, before thrusting under his father's guard. But Vader saw it and brought his saber down at the last moment, twisting Luke's wrist and sending him stumbling back.

Luke was hopelessly outmatched and he knew it. Despair clawed at his heart.

Father, please don't let him hurt my mother. Not for me. Please!

But no amount of silent pleading could block the crimson blade that lashed out at him. Luke blocked, felt the wall behind him, and used the Force to push off, lunging forward with a powerful swing. Vader stepped back quickly, neatly avoiding it.

Luke could feel the abyss of the Dark Side yawning, ready to swallow him whole. Fighting back was only bringing it closer. Defense was hopeless.

Despair washed over him. Please, father, he pled, terrified. Please!

It was dark by the time they came for her.

She did not turn her head to look at them as they came in. Padme sat in the place where Palpatine had left her, her legs curled to her chest and her heart in her throat. She could not still the trembling that racked her body. Her arms wound round her knees and she rocked slowly back and forth as the sky outside darkened to night, locking in horror at the thought of what Palpatine would do to her son.

Your son, like his father, is now mine. Padme shuddered. She could not bear it. She had lost Anakin to that... that monster! She could not lose Luke too.

The red-robed guards approached her, pulling her up and snapping a pair of binders on her wrists. They turned and she followed, unresisting, as they ushered her into a lift. Padme knew well why they were taking her. Palpatine hoped to break her son by breaking her.

Let him try, she vowed silently. If he thinks I'll let him use me against Luke as he did against Anakin, then he's gravely mistaken! She lifted her chin, that rebellious thought giving her strength.

The guards ushered her out of the lift and down a long, echoing corridor. A set of double doors stood at the end, guarded by two more red-robes. The throne room. The doors swung outward and Padme stepped inside.

The dim light at first revealed nothing.

"Come inside, my Lady," a voice she recognized spoke from the gloom.

She saw the shadowed outline of Palpatine, standing beside his throne, on a dais in the very center of the room. "You are just in time to watch your son's fall."

He made a gesture with his hand and Padme turned.

At first all she could see was a blur of movement, and then two black-clad figures resolved themselves. It was Luke. He and Vader circled each other, lightsabers humming, as they searched for a weakness. And then she the glow of a blood-red blade bearing down. A blue blade came up to block the attack and Padme felt a gasp escape her as Luke stumbled. The guard behind her set a discouraging hand on her shoulder as she stepped forward, but she ignored it, her whole attention focused on the fight unfolding before her.

Luke raised his saber, nearly managing to knock Vader's away, but Vader was stronger and more experienced. He saw the feint for what it was and easily parried, knocking Luke back. The wall was behind him and Padme felt her throat constrict. But Luke pushed against Vader's blade, managing to send him back and dance sideways, away from the trap. He pressed the advantage, lunging forward with a wide, overhand blow. Vader stepped aside, letting the swipe pass him. Luke stumbled again and Padme cried out.

Vader advanced, his blade flicking forward in a series of blows that sent Luke reeling. He was losing ground, being backed into the wall again and Padme felt her heart sink as she realized that her son could not hope to win this fight. Still, he brought his saber up, straining to block the savage assault.

It seemed to be happening in slow motion. Vader knocked Luke's blade aside, and then the scarlet saber drove forward.

"Noooo!" Padme screamed. She broke from the guard's restraining hand and crossed the distance, throwing herself between her son and that bloody blade. She could feel the blade complete its advance, white-hot, vivid pain blossoming. She looking down at the lightsaber lodged in her chest, and then up to the black, unmoving mask above it.

"Anakin?" she said. From far away she heard someone screaming.

And then she fell.