Vader stepped inside the communications room with growing dread. He stepped up to the broadcast pad and waved a hand at the console, and soon the Emperor's larger-than-life holo was before him. He said nothing.
"I am most displeased," said the Emperor, making no move to tell his apprentice to stand. Vader waited patiently. "I have given you many chances to prove yourself, Lord Vader."
"Yes, my master." The accustomed response slipped out.
"You are to return to Coruscant immediately."
"Master?" Vader allowed himself slight curiosity as his dread ate away inside.
"I have a special task for you," Palpatine croaked. "A task for a true apprentice."
A true apprentice? What did that mean? "Yes, my master," said Vader automatically, and noted with detached interest as Palpatine's nostrils flared in barely-contained contempt.
"Get out of my sight." The command was particularly venomous.
"As you wish, my master," Vader replied, turning off the projection quickly and standing, his respirator responding to his rising levels of stress. There was no doubt in his mind. Palpatine knew.
"Feel the Force, you must," Yoda intoned. "Breathe, it does. Let it take your anger. No emotion there is, only peace."
Luke slammed his hand—his right hand, thankfully—down on the rock. "I can't do it, Master Yoda!" he said, frustrated. The little Jedi Master looked at him for a moment. "Every time I try to visualize it, I remember what happened to my father. What Obi-Wan did to him. What the Emperor did to him," Luke said disgustedly. "Why can't I do it?"
"Learn to do this, you must," said Yoda gently. "Only then a Jedi will you become."
"It's not fair," Luke said darkly. "I shouldn't have to do this."
"Fair, life is not. Fair, trials are not," said Yoda firmly. "Open yourself to the Force. No room is there for anger in a Jedi. No room for fear. No room for frustration."
Luke sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He had tried to do as Yoda said for the two weeks he had spent with him, but thus far his efforts had been unproductive. Yoda had taught him minimal combat techniques, saying that Vader had done a good job of it, and insisted that Luke's mind was not ready. "How can I do this? We've been at it forever, Master."
"900 years have I trained Jedi," said Yoda after a moment. "Never has a student been taught in the Dark Side before he has come to me. Never have I had to reverse the Darkness."
"So you don't know?" Luke said bitterly. He sighed. "Naturally."
Yoda looked at him solemnly. "Show me what to do, the Force will. Let it in, you must. Subject yourself to the Force, you must."
Luke slid to the ground. "That's what I've been doing," he griped. "All the Force wants to show me is Mustafar."
"No," Yoda said sharply. "Holding on to anger, to hate, to fear, you have been. No connection there can be with the Light Side. Too easily the Dark Side flows in you."
"It's not my fault!" Luke said, frustrated. "I didn't even know there was a Dark Side before Obi-Wan told me!"
"Lie, you do," said Yoda. "Knew, when killed the boy you did."
Luke shrank back as if he'd been slapped. "I never meant to kill him," he whispered, turning away. "I was just angry."
"Angry. A path to the Dark Side, anger is. Let it control you, you have."
"Once," said Luke quickly. "I never killed anyone else."
"No?"
Luke cringed. "But that was for the greater good. I didn't want to do it."
"But in anger, in pain, you did it," said Yoda quietly. "When Vader killed your friend, let your anger flow through you, you did."
Luke slumped. "What can I do?" he asked quietly.
Yoda moved to sit behind Luke and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be at peace," he said gently. "Isolate your anger. Let the Force take it."
For the first time, Luke truly did as he was told and a few seconds later, he opened his eyes. "It worked!" He breathed, and beamed. "I did it!"
"Yes," said Yoda thoughtfully. "Do this always, you must. Feels hate, a Jedi does not. Feels anger, a Jedi does not. Remember this."
"Yes, Master Yoda," said Luke respectfully, emboldened by his success.
"Done enough, we have," said Yoda at last. "Rest."
Every step he took was more difficult than the last.
Was he walking to his death? To Luke's? Vader was careful to maintain his pace and normal calm, but his mind was raging behind the delicate shields he kept in place at all times. After the Emperor's order, he had done as commanded and returned to Coruscant, leaving the newly promoted Admiral Piett in command of his ship.
How angry was the Emperor? If Vader knew the man at all, he would try to twist this new information about Luke to his own advantage, but how? And what would he do to his apprentice? Vader had long ago stopped considering the idea that Palpatine would physically harm him—seriously, at least. Palpatine knew that his body wasn't capable of surviving much more, and if the machinery was damaged, he would be a helpless invalid, or dead.
Unless, that was what he had in mind, and wanted to remove him. To take a new apprentice.
Luke.
Behind the mask, Vader's eyes widened. No. Had his actions only condemned his son to the hell his father had willingly entered? Had all his protections merely prolonged the inevitable?
Swallowing his fear for the moment, Vader walked past the red-robed guards of the Imperial throne room and stepped inside, dropping to one knee easily in front of the throne.
"So." The ruined voice echoed in the chamber. "I have received some interesting news, Vader."
Vader didn't respond. What could he say? He merely kept himself behind a cool mask—not that he needed another one—and waited for his master to continue.
"The Rebel pilot. Can you imagine what his name is, my apprentice?"
Should he respond? What would he say? Would he mock the man by claiming the negative? He chose to remain silent.
"Skywalker. Luke Skywalker." The despot made the name sound like blaspheme. Despite himself, Vader flinched. "This is interesting, is it not, my apprentice?"
Vader kept his mouth shut. His son was alive. It was worth any torment his master had in mind, unless he was to take Luke as an apprentice.
With an inhuman cry of anger, Palpatine raised his arms and suddenly Vader flew back and hit the wall. He fell to the ground, surprised. "You disobeyed me! You helped that brat escape. You lied."
Vader's body suddenly slid across the ground and he was raised to his feet to stand in front of the Emperor, whose eyes were glowing yellow. "After everything I have taught you, you let the weak, pathetic Anakin Skywalker claim you again," Palpatine sneered. "You have failed."
"Master—" Vader began, true fear beginning to spread throughout his body.
"Tell me why, Vader," Palpatine said, changing his tactic as quickly as the politician in him was wont to do. "Tell me. Why did you save your son?"
Vader said nothing. No words would help him now.
"Tell me, my apprentice," Palpatine continued, the words sounding sickly sweet. "Did you love him?"
The armored man flinched.
"You're weak," Palpatine spat, abandoning the mocking approach. "You disgust me." For a second, his rage seemed to abate.
Still Vader remained silent.
He stared at his apprentice—the man he had rescued two decades hence, a burned and blackened cripple, and had resurrected into the most fearsome of monsters the Galaxy had ever seen. "You will still serve a purpose," he said finally, his mouth stretching in a gruesome smile. "Oh, yes. I won't kill you yet."
Vader stood silently. He couldn't escape.
"You, my friend, will bring me my new apprentice, since you failed to be a decent one yourself," the Emperor hissed. "Your son."
The man/machine that had once been Anakin Skywalker tensed. No.
Palpatine laughed. "Oh, yes. He loves you, doesn't he, Vader? I send him a little dream of your pain, and he will come. He will turn to the Dark Side just as willingly as Anakin Skywalker did in a vain attempt to save his wife. All it will take is a few careful hints. Empty promises."
Behind the mask, Vader gritted his teeth. He had learned, years later, that he had been incapable of saving his Padmé, but to have Palpatine jeer over how easily he had been manipulated was unbearable. He clenched his fists, wishing to wrap them around the man's neck, to crush the life out of him like a petty underling.
"Oh, he will turn," said Palpatine with another cackle. "His love"—he spat the word—"is such that he will do anything to save his father. And I will turn him, Vader. I will mold him into the Sith that you could never hope to be. You, with half your midi-chlorians destroyed by the same fire that left you a hardly human! Luke will be the greatest of all the Sith!"
Vader forgot himself. "NO!" He launched himself at the Sith Lord, grabbing his lightsaber in his hands and bringing it crashing down on his master's head.
He didn't get the chance.
Force-lightning poured from Palpatine's hands into his chest and he flew back, his lightsaber clattering to the floor and rolling away from him as the energy flowed through him, melting circuits and electrocuting the prosthetics.
It was Mustafar all over again.
He could feel what was left of his body getting seared by the lightning, the connections between bionic limbs and flesh smoking, charring, the respirator destroyed.
It was agony.
It stopped.
He gasped for breath, his ruined lungs trying valiantly to get the oxygen for the rest of his body. Dimly, he heard the Emperor's harsh voice. "Take it away. Keep it alive."
He had failed.
Luke was lost.
"NO!"
Luke jerked awake, dripping sweat.
No.
No.
No!
He fumbled for a glass of water and found it, his shaking hands spilling the liquid over his bare chest. Had that truly happened? Was his father at the mercy of the Emperor once more? Was the Emperor killing him?
He desperately reached out to the Force to calm himself. He had to think this through rationally.
His father was dying! Because of him!
Luke made his decision in a split second. He threw back the covers of his makeshift bed and grabbed his lightsaber. Emperor or no, he would save his father.
"Acting rashly, you are," Yoda's voice echoed in the darkness. Luke froze and gradually the small hut lit itself. Yoda stood, watching him, a sad expression on his face. "Go, you cannot."
"I have to!" Luke cried out. "You don't understand! My father needs me!"
"A Jedi you are not yet," said Yoda firmly. "Defeat the Emperor you cannot."
"I don't want to!" Luke shouted. "I just want to help my father!" He stormed out of the hut, heading for the clearing in which his X-Wing sat.
"Luke, you cannot go," said a familiar voice. Luke whirled around, tears falling down his cheeks. "What do you want, Obi-Wan?" he snapped angrily.
The glowing visage of the Jedi Master was clearly disturbed. "If you go, you are playing right into his hands, Luke."
"I don't care! If I don't go, my father will die," Luke said tightly. "It's more important to save him."
"More important than the fate of the Galaxy?" Obi-Wan countered. "More important than the balance of the Force?"
"This isn't about the rest of the Galaxy!" Luke shouted. "This is about me and my father!"
"Complete your training, you must," said Yoda, who had followed him.
"And just leave him to die?" Luke spat. "No. I refuse."
"If you honor Anakin Skywalker, you must stay," said Obi-Wan. "The Anakin I knew would want you to stay."
"Yeah, and you let him burn alive and you want me to kill him," Luke said angrily. "I'll make my own decisions on what my father wants, thanks."
"Anakin was like a brother to me, Luke," said Obi-Wan gently. "I never wanted to hurt him."
"Shut up!" Luke screamed. "I don't want to hear it!"
Obi-Wan drew back, his brow furrowed. "You are letting the Dark Side take you over, Luke," he said imploringly. "Reject it! Only if you stay here can you become a Jedi!"
Luke ignored him and merely climbed into his flight suit. "I'll come back," he said finally. "I'll finish my training."
"You must let go of your feelings for your father, Luke," said Obi-Wan. "They cloud your mind. Palpatine is using them to draw you to him. A Jedi must not feel as strongly as you do."
"Then I don't want to be a Jedi!" Luke snapped. "My father needs me!"
Both Jedi Masters bowed their heads in sorrow. "If leave you do, forsaken the Jedi you will have.," said Yoda at last. "Turned your back on the Order, like your father, you will have."
Luke's shoulders tensed. "This isn't about the rest of the Galaxy," he repeated. "I'm going." With that, he climbed into his fighter and shut the transparisteel cockpit, readying the ship for takeoff. On the ground, he could see Yoda turning away as if in pain, and Obi-Wan beginning to fade. Gritting his teeth, he turned on his life-support systems and proceeded with the pre-flight checks, blocking out the guilt and worry that he wasn't doing the right thing.
Once his X-Wing was in the air, he said, "Artoo, set a course for Mustafar. We've got to recruit some help." He wasn't foolish enough to think that he could take on the Emperor—and all of Coruscant—alone. Surely Han and Chewie would help him, if no one else would. He had saved Chewie's life once, so he would be able to call on the life-oath that the wookiee had with him. And Han… Han would follow him into any danger, and say that it was his idea all along on the way out. Luke allowed himself a small smile as the craft plunged into hyperspace. He would save his father.
Luke fought back a jolt of apprehension as the X-Wing exited hyperspace two days after leaving Dagobah. To know that this was the planet where his father had suffered so much, where he and Obi-Wan had fought was almost too much to bear. He spoke into his comm, "This is Rogue 2, Mustafar Base, requesting permission to land and coordinates."
"Luke! Welcome back! We thought you'd been taken prisoner!" A familiar voice greeted him on the other end. Luke shook his head slightly. The day that they had deserted Hoth seemed like a lifetime ago.
"No, just got bogged down trying to find a replacement for my hyperdrive," he said at last. "Took me a while."
"Well, we're glad to hear you're okay. I'm sending the coordinates of your landing pad right now."
"Thanks," said Luke, cutting the transmission and attempting to quell his raging thoughts and emotions as they drew near to the surface of the molten planet. He fought nausea as the molten lava flows and fumes drifted into the atmosphere, giving an unhealthy orange glint on everything. He allowed Artoo to take the craft to the landing pad, not sure if his nerves would be able to handle it. When the X-Wing finally lowered onto the dock, he saw Han and Leia running towards him from the building. He jumped out of the starship, swallowing bile, and managed a weak grin as they came up to him.
Leia threw her arms around him in a relieved hug—a hug that was watched with some jealousy on Han's part—and Han clapped his hand on Luke's back. "Jedi yet?" the smuggler asked with grin.
Luke shook his head. "That's not why I came here. I need help."
Leia drew back. "What's wrong?" she pressed.
"I'll explain inside," Luke said quickly, glancing at the lava far beneath him. "I'd prefer to get out of here."
Leia nodded sympathetically and Luke realized that Han had told her why Mustafar was such a safe place from the Empire. "Let's go, then," she said. "We can talk in my rooms."
"Where's Chewie?" Luke asked distractedly.
"The Falcon," said Han. "Workin' on the gun turret."
"Let's go there, then, if you don't mind, Leia," Luke said heavily. "I need to talk to him, too."
She nodded. "Of course." They walked swiftly into the building perched on the rocks and Luke noted that they had transformed it into a large hangar. To the far left, the Millennium Falcon sat, annoyed roars coming from within.
Once they managed to get inside, Luke, exhausted, dropped onto a chair and put his head in his hands. Chewie appeared a moment later and placed a comforting arm around the young Jedi's shoulders. "What is it, kid?" Han asked, truly concerned.
Luke looked up to him with red-rimmed eyes that showed how tired he was. "My father," he said shortly. Leia flinched despite herself. "He's in trouble."
Han frowned. "What happened?"
"The Emperor found out I was alive, somehow," said Luke. "He called my father back to Coruscant, and is…" He hung his head, guilt ripping at him.
"What?" Han questioned gently.
"He's killing him," Luke whispered. "To get me to come and be his apprentice."
"But isn't Vader his apprentice?" Leia interrupted swiftly.
Luke nodded. "But… when my father helped us to escape, and then lied to the Emperor about it…" He waited for a moment to let it sink in. "He's furious. He's going to keep him alive long enough for me to get there."
Han and Leia's horrified faces and Chewie's angry growl showed they understood. "How d'you know this?" Han asked at last.
"A dream," said Luke shortly. "Like the one of Mustafar," he explained. Han's eyes widened, but Leia grew confused.
"What do you mean?" she questioned, bewildered.
Luke turned to her. "I had two dreams when I lived with my father," he said shortly. "In the first one, I relived his experiences here, when he fought Obi-Wan Kenobi and lost. The second was a little after that, when he was…" Luke stopped, trying to phrase it so that they would understand. "When he was going through operations," he settled on the most vague terms. "Both were completely accurate. This one was the same."
Han let out a slow hiss. "Then he's on Coruscant?"
"Yes."
"And you want to go rescue him?"
Luke nodded. Han and Leia stared at him and the former scratched his head wonderingly. "All right, then," he said with a weak imitation of his usual grin. "We've done crazier stuff."
Luke's jaw dropped. "You mean it?"
Han nodded. "If we can't do it, who can?"
"You're both crazy!" Leia found her voice. She was pale. "Listen, I lived on Coruscant," she began, her words spilling out in a rush. "There's no way the Millennium Falcon will get within two parsecs of it without being targeted. And even if you did manage to get on Coruscant, you have no idea where Vader is! You'd never be able to get past the Emperor's guards!"
"My ally is the Force," said Luke firmly. "And we're not taking the Falcon."
"We're not?" Han asked stupidly.
"No," said Luke. "It's too recognizable. We're going to Bain."
"What?" Leia asked, her brow furrowed.
"My father's world," Luke said. The idea had dawned on him during hyperspace. "He has a private fleet there. He showed me."
"His world?" Han asked in disbelief.
"A fleet?" Leia asked in equal astonishment. "As in… battle ships?" she asked weakly.
"Mostly starships, shuttles, and cruisers," said Luke unconcernedly. "But I think he has three prototype destroyers in orbit. The point is; we could take one to his private residence on Coruscant. His shuttles are all cloaked and really fast." Luke could tell he'd made an impression on the former princess when she sank to a chair next to him.
"His own world?" Han repeated to himself in disbelief. "I wonder how much a world costs."
"It was a reward," said Luke in response. He turned to Leia. "I've got to do this. I know you hate him, and I know that he's hurt you, but he's my father. I have to help him."
Leia hung her head. "I'll cover for you," she said at last.
"Thanks, Leia," said Luke, relieved. He stood. "We've got to go now, Han."
Leia stood as well, biting her lip like Luke did when he was nervous. "Please don't get killed," she said to them. She hugged Luke and then turned to Han awkwardly. "Han…"
"Ah, shaddup, princess," Han said, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him, kissing her. Luke laughed out loud. They separated, Leia's face red. "I figured if I'm goin' on this suicide mission I might as well have some fun," Han said, grinning. His face softened. "Take care of yourself, Leia."
Still speechless, Leia nodded and touched a finger to his cheek. "See you soon." With that, she turned and went down the ramp and back to the hangar.
"I told you that you liked her," said Luke, smiling.
Han ignored him. "Let's get ready, then."
"Oh, Master Luke! Master Luke!" Luke turned around to see C-3PO and R2-D2 walking and rolling, respectively, up the boarding ramp.
"Threepio?" Luke asked in surprise. "Artoo, what are you doing?"
The little droid responded in a series of excited beeps. "He says that he thinks you will need a hacker on your mission," said Threepio. "I don't know what's gotten into him, sir. He's so stubborn!"
Luke furrowed his brow. "He's probably right. Come on, Artoo."
"Oh, Master Luke!" Luke rolled his eyes.
"You can come too, Threepio," he said dryly. As soon as the droids were safely inside, he went to the cockpit. "We've got some company," he told Han, who was starting up the pre-flight sequences.
"Huh?"
"Never mind," said Luke, remembering suddenly Han's distaste for the golden droid. "Hey, Chewie, I've got the coordinates, okay?" The wookiee nodded its head and accepted the datapad from the Jedi's hand. "I'm going to try and contact him, okay?" he told Han nervously.
The smuggler looked up. "With your Jedi thing?" he asked mistrustfully.
"Yeah."
Han shrugged. "Go ahead."
Luke nodded and then returned to his bunk of old, sitting down like he had during the three years he had spent as a carefree smuggler. He wrinkled his nose. Not exactly carefree, but the closest he had come since before Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had died. And now, here he was, a Rebel pilot about to go on, as Han had put it, a suicide mission to save Darth Vader.
Sighing, he slipped into a meditative trance and cautiously asked, Father? There was no response, and that chilled him to the core. His father had always answered his call, no matter what the time or situation. Luke bit his lip. He would have to actively search for his father's presence, which meant drawing near to the Emperor.
Steeling himself, he reached across the Force. There were only so many Force-adepts, after all. He felt stretched impossibly thin as he searched the Force for the specific signature that was his father.
When he found it, he almost lost his concentration in surprise. His father's presence, normally so strong, was weak. The emotive energy surrounding him was dark, with bursts of love and hope shining through like a sun through clouds. Luke reached down and whispered, Father?
He felt his father's presence become slightly stronger, and Luke almost jumped for joy when he responded, Luke?
Are you all right? Where are you? Has the Emperor got you? Are you okay? Luke asked quickly. He felt a brief stab of pain float across their bond.
I… Luke, do not come to Coruscant. His father's mind-voice was weak, but adamant. The Emperor wants to make you his apprentice. I cannot let you come here. I cannot let you become a slave to the Dark Side as I have.
The admission almost shocked Luke into severing the bond. Father, you can come back, he reminded the man. I know you can.
Luke, please don't come! Just let me die here! Vader's voice sounded desperate.
I am coming to save you, Father, said Luke firmly. That bastard has had you long enough.
Don't… Luke… Suddenly his father's voice went silent and Luke scrabbled for the connection, relieved when he felt that his father was still alive, just unconscious. He eased himself out of meditation, releasing his anger into the Force as Yoda had taught him.
When he opened his eyes, he glanced out the porthole window and saw the familiar streaks of hyperspace. His exhaustion finally overpowering him, he fell back onto his bed and let sleep overcome his senses.
"Kid, we're there, but we need you to pilot the ship. Get up, already!"
Luke opened his eyes blearily to see Han's face staring at him. The smuggler gave him another shake. "We're there?" he asked wearily, sitting up.
"Yeah," said Han. "And we got no idea where to land. It's like the whole planet is rock or water." He wrinkled his nose. "Not much good unless your old man lives underwater or somethin.'"
"No, inside the cliff," Luke corrected with a yawn. He sat up and jumped down from his bunk. "Come on."
Han followed him to the cockpit and Luke sat down with a sigh. "I'm fine, Chewie," he said to the wookiee's concerned question. "Just exhausted. Once we get home, I'm definitely going to order something to eat first."
"Home?" Han asked dubiously.
Luke shrugged. "It's better than Tatooine," he said truthfully. "And it was nice here," he added as an afterthought, remembering Vader's and his retreat to the world. Relying on his memory, he piloted the Corellian freighter down towards the main landmass, expertly handling the craft. Soon, he had landed it on the same dock his father had used so many years before.
"This is it?" Han asked doubtfully. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Luke shortly. "I don't remember if he changed the environmental controls, so bring a breather just in case," he instructed Han, who stared at him, confused.
"What environmental controls?"
"He can only take off the mask in an oxygen-rich environment," Luke explained wearily. "When I came here with him, he changed it so that everywhere except his chambers were regular air."
"Oh," said Han. "Chewie, can you get the breathers for us?" he asked the wookiee, who nodded and reached above their heads to get the old, but functional, apparatuses.
"Let's go, then," said Luke, pressing the buttons that brought the boarding ramp down. "Come on."
Han, Chewie, Threepio, and Artoo followed him down the ramp and Luke led the way to the sheer face of the cliff that Luke knew was just the face for his father's enormous hangars and workshops as well as his private residence. Han stared in wonderment as they entered the arched hallway that led deep into the cliffside, watching with even more surprise as the wall brackets that held light-producing plasma lit themselves as Luke walked past.
They had almost reached the end when suddenly, sections of the rock disappeared and several battle droids stepped out that Luke recognized from his brush-in his first day here. They all held a blaster and a lightsaber. "Intruders!" said the first one.
Luke drew his lightsaber but didn't activate it. "I am Master Luke Vader," he said coldly. "And I'm bringing these people and droids with me." Han had jumped back in surprise when the droids exited the supposedly solid rock and his jaw had dropped when he heard Luke's address.
"Kid…" he said, terrified as more droids surrounded them from behind.
"Find QT-28," Luke instructed. "He will verify."
"Imposter!" Another said loudly.
With a sigh, Luke waved a hand and they all clattered to the floor. "I hoped they would just obey," he said. "My father taught me how to turn them off, though."
"Good thing," Han said weakly. "Your dad values his privacy, doesn't he?"
Luke shrugged. "He told me that Black Sun once found out about this place and tried to attack it, so he added the security measures. Anyway, we're going there," he said pointing to the shining door ahead.
"Are there anymore 'security measures' I should know about?" Han asked.
"I don't know," Luke replied truthfully. "He never told me about them."
"That's great," Han muttered to himself, just as they reached the silvery durasteel door that was the entrance to the place. He jumped back as it slid open at a wave of Luke's hand. "Of course," he said weakly. "This is Vader's house. You'd have to use magic to get in."
Luke laughed slightly ahead of him and then pressed the breather over his mouth. Behind him, Han and Chewie followed suit and the smuggler's eyes widened in astonishment as they entered the grand foyer. "Oh my!" Threepio exclaimed. "Master Luke, this is your father's home?"
"Yes," said Luke just as a much sleeker protocol droid than Threepio entered the foyer.
"Master Luke!" The droid said in surprise. "I saw your entrance, and did not have enough time to call off the battle droids. My apologies, sir, but it has been a very long time since they have seen you."
"It's okay, Cutie," Luke reassured the droid. "Can you tell the mainframe to change the environmental makeup to normal?"
The droid—QT-28—gave a little bow. "Of course, Master Luke."
"And…" Luke scratched his head. "Han, Chewie, what do you want to eat?"
Han stared at him. "What?"
"Cutie, do you remember my favorite meal?" Luke asked the droid.
"Of course, Master Luke. Bantha steak with a side of"—the droid responded immediately.
Luke interrupted her. "Four orders, please. Send them to my room, okay?"
"Of course, Master Luke," said the droid, and it turned back to walk down the hall quickly.
"This…" Han said, looking at his surroundings. "This is weird."
Luke shrugged. "We can't stay long. A standard day at most." He looked to the small control panel at the side of the hallway and removed his breathing apparatus as the blinking green light suddenly went solid. "You can take them off," he told Han and Chewie behind him.
They did so and followed Luke down the long hallway. "Where are we going?" Han asked curiously.
"My room," said Luke, stopping in front of a silver door identical to the rest and opening it with a flick of his hand. He stepped inside and fought back the wave of nostalgia that the room produced. Everything was as he had left it—his covers on his bed were even unmade, still. He walked over to his worktable to look at the logic processor he had been modifying. He had been trying to make a psychotic droid, but his father had stopped him. There were two ancient books on saber techniques still lying on his desk, both open to pages detailing how one could throw a saber while lit.
"This is weird," Han repeated with a shake of his head. "Too weird."
"Why?" Luke asked curiously, pulling off his surcoat—he never had changed his style of dress—and throwing it down the laundry chute.
"I dunno," Han admitted. "It's just weird to think you have a bedroom. You were always on the Executor, or with me, or on the move with the Rebellion."
"I haven't been here in a long time," Luke agreed, peering into his closet and almost laughing when he saw the too-small clothes still sitting, folded on the shelves. "I'll tell Cutie to bring me some new clothes. Do you want to take a shower?" Luke offered.
"I took a sonic shower this morning," said Han. "I'm good."
"It's real water," Luke said.
"Really?" Han asked in surprise.
"We are on a planet that is 85 water," said Luke, laughing. "You can take one after the kitchen droid brings our food." His timing was perfect. Just then, a droid with arms welded to a large tray and a single photoreceptor entered the room, the tray laden with several dishes.
"Master Luke, shall I place them on the table?" The droid asked, its vocoder slightly tinny.
"Yes, thanks, I-B32," said Luke, moving aside to let the droid roll forward into his room. It lowered and slid the food from the tray to the table.
"I will return in one standard half hour, Master Luke," said the droid, and it removed itself from the room. Han just stared at the food.
"This is too weird," he repeated again, sitting down at the table and dragging a plate to him. "Is this Neema-fruit?" he asked in disbelief. "This is really rare! Ever since the Empire decided it didn't like Naboo, all crops are governmentally sanctioned. Impossible to get hold of!"
"It's my father's favorite food," said Luke after he swallowed his first bite of Bantha steak. "Like Naboo is his favorite world."
"He can eat?" Han asked in surprise.
Luke's eyebrows raised. "Of course he can. I only ever ate with him twice, but he's capable of doing so. Did you think he powered down or something?"
"No, it's just…" Han struggled to find the words. "No one has ever seen him with his mask off. I heard in flight school once that after a fight with a Jedi he killed the doctor who treated him."
Luke flinched. "Well, it's not as bad as you think," he said. "Just really scarred."
"Oh," said Han, furrowing his brow. After a moment, he muttered to himself, "I can't believe he likes Neema-fruit."
After they finished the meal, Luke retrieved new clothes from the large utility chambers that housed the kitchen, laundry, and other needs. When he returned to his room, Han had obviously showered and so he did the same. He dressed in the clothes that he had requested be modeled like the ones he had seen his father wear during their stay at Bain. Luke had the sneaking suspicion that they were basically Jedi robes.
"So what do we do now?" Han asked once Luke had reentered his room.
"We're going to look through his personal terminal," said Luke firmly. "There should be some kind of outline or information on the Emperor's palace there."
"Is there gonna be Jedi droids waiting for us?" Han asked doubtfully.
"No," Luke said immediately. "I don't think so," he added after a moment's hesitation. He left the room and walked to the end, Han and Chewie following him somewhat reluctantly. Luke breathed a sigh of relief when the door easily slid open with a nudge of the Force. He had been afraid that his father would have Force-locked it like he had done sometimes on the Executor.
When they entered, Han stopped dead-still. "What is it?" Luke asked impatiently.
Han's face was pale. "I never actually believed you that he was as bad injured as you said," he said weakly, staring around at the extensive medical equipment, the Bacta tank, and the various medical droids that were powered down. The room was completely sterile.
Luke felt a flash of discomfort on his father's part. "He doesn't exactly like to talk about it," he said finally. "So don't ask him about it when we rescue him, okay?"
Han shook his head as if clearing it. "Got it. Man, this is weird."
Luke groaned. "What now?"
With a faint grin, Han gestured at the meditation pod. "I never, ever thought I'd be in Darth Vader's bedroom," he said with a weak laugh.
Luke stared at him for a moment before grinning wearily. "Ha, ha," he said. "We've got to do this. Artoo?"
The little droid rolled up to him. "I know there's a password on this to turn it on and to access the files," he informed the droid. "We need to get past it."
The astromech responded in a few upbeat whistles and rolled over to the computer jack, plugging himself in. Luke turned to face Han, his face troubled as he remembered his father's plight. "What if we fail, Han?" he asked dully.
"We won't," said the smuggler with false bravado. "We can die trying, if anything."
Luke hung his head. "If we die, then the only Jedi left is Yoda," he said, rubbing his temple. "We can't die."
"Luke Skywalker can get out of any mess," said Han. "That's something I've learned over the years. If your old man is anything like you, this should be a breeze."
Luke raised an eyebrow. "A breeze?"
"Yeah," said Han, shrugging.
Luke sighed. "I don't even really know him well. I know Darth Vader, but all I know of Anakin Skywalker are just brief flashes when he lets his persona slip, other than when he let us go, and kept me safe from the Emperor."
"Anakin Skywalker?" Han said in surprise. "That's his name?"
Luke nodded, and Han's eyes grew wide. "What is it?"
"Wow," Han breathed. "Did you know that he's considered to be the best podracer in history? And he's the only human winner in the history of the sport? And that he won the Boonta Eve Podrace when he was nine years old?"
Luke knew vaguely what podracing was, but Han's enthusiasm was bewildering. "No, I didn't know that. How did you? And why is it important?"
"When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was a podracer," said Han, shaking his head in wonderment. "A friend of mine—a kid named Vij—he had seen it, 'cause he'd grown up on Tatooine. I wanted to be Anakin Skywalker after that." Han gave a little shudder. "That's weird. How could he be Darth Vader? No wonder he's practically the best pilot in the Galaxy."
"Shouldn't you have guessed when I told you my name?" Luke asked dryly.
Han shrugged. "I figured it was a common name, or something. Wow," he repeated. "I have a newfound respect for your dad, kid."