After a while, Artoo withdrew from the terminal and beeped insistently for Luke to come over. Luke hesitantly stepped inside the jaws of the meditation chamber and sat in his father's chair. He peered down at the screen, which was now blank save for a multitude of labeled three-dimensional icons. His fingers itched to look at the file entitled "Luke," but he instead tapped his finger on the one that was labeled "Imperial Center." In an instant, a new datascreen was brought up and several new files opened. Han peered over his shoulder and whistled. "Bit of an organization freak, isn't he?"

"It's his plan for the Empire when he's Emperor," Luke said dryly. "Order to the chaos." It was a theme he had heard his father speak of many times. "He hates disorder for anything."

"Ah," said Han, raising his eyebrows.

Luke tapped on the "Imperial Palace" icon, but to his dismay, a voice-activated window popped up on the screen. He groaned. "Artoo, how can I get past this?"

The astromech tried for a few minutes to bypass it, but the computer was stubborn. "It was definitely my father who wired this computer," Luke said aloud, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms. "Any ideas?" he asked Han, who backed away, arms raised.

"I dunno anything about computers, kid," the smuggler admitted truthfully. "Don' look at me."

Luke sat silently for a few minutes until he leapt to his feet. "Hold on for a second," he told Han, sprinting out of the meditation pod to an adjoining room. A minute later, he returned with a complicated-looking contraption.

"What's that?" Han asked distrustfully as Luke sank back into the chair, turned on the machinery, and placed it below his mouth and over his chin.

"Vocoder," Luke said, but Han heard Darth Vader's voice echo throughout the chamber. His eyes went wide.

"Wow," he breathed. "You could have some serious fun with that."

Luke grinned, the process slightly hampered by the machinery, and turned his attention to the console. "Darth Vader," he said imperiously towards the terminal.

Nothing happened. Luke frowned. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked Han, who looked very disturbed by his different voice.

"I dunno," Han said at last. "Try his full title."

"Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith." Still nothing happened. Luke slumped back in his chair. "It must be a voice-activated password," he said finally.

"Then what's the password?"

"I have no idea," Luke admitted.

Han jumped as if struck by something. "Try his name!" he suggested. "Try 'Anakin Skywalker.'"

"Why?" Luke asked, confused. "He pretends Anakin doesn't exist."

"Exactly," said Han. "No one knows he's Anakin Skywalker. So no one would be able to guess that."

Just what Han was suggesting finally dawned on Luke. "Anakin Skywalker," he said to the computer, and instantly the files on the palace were brought up. Han smirked. "Thanks," Luke said.

"I'll be sure to let His Lordship know that I broke his little code," said Han, grinning.

Luke's brow furrowed at the mention of his father and Han instantly regretted it. Luke ignored the stab of discomfort from his friend and just focused on the files, searching for the one that he thought he needed.

Finally, he found one entitled "Structural Architecture" and went to it, and instantly a holo of the palace was projected in front of him. Luke stood and examined it closely. Each chamber was carefully labeled.

"So that's where we don' wanna go," said Han, jabbing a finger towards the largest room in the palace—the throne room.

"Exactly," Luke said grimly. "Come on. We have to find a way into this place."

Several hours later, they had come up with a rudimentary plan to avoid all of the Royal Guards that were stationed throughout the palace at regular intervals. "Do you think this will work?" Luke asked Han, staring at the sequential steps he had jotted down on a datapad.

Han scratched his head. "I got no idea." He grinned impishly at Luke. "We'll have to trust the Force," he quipped.

Luke rolled his eyes. "I leave that magic stuff to them Jedi," he retorted, mocking Han.

Han burst out laughing, but Luke sighed. "We haven't got much time. We've got to leave."

"Already?" Han asked, turning serious. "I kind of like this place."

"We've got to choose a ship," said Luke. "You know, he modifies all his ships himself," he told the smuggler. "I can't imagine what he'd do if he saw the Falcon."

"No way is Darth Vader touching my ship," said Han instantly.

"Come on," said Luke wearily, standing and pocketing the datapad onto which they had loaded the blueprints for the palace. He turned and let Han follow him out of his father's chambers and led the way down the hall and through the military room to another hallway that had just one door. When he opened it, Han gasped audibly as he saw the immense room as big as the hangar on the Executor. Starships of all shapes and sizes filled the room. The smuggler just walked past Luke, as if in a daze, and wandered around, staring at the snub fighters, shuttles, and cruisers that hailed from all over the galaxy. He stopped beside a sleek, silvery cruiser. "Is that an original Naboo cruiser?" Han questioned in awe.

"Yeah," Luke affirmed. "But we're not here to admire his collection, Han," he reminded the smuggler, who seemed to jerk himself out of his reverie.

"Right," said Han, getting down to business. "Think we'll need one with medical capabilities?" he offered.

"Full life-support," said Luke heavily, his heart sinking. "Let me look," he said, turning to the terminal to the right of the entrance. "He let me look through here once," he explained. "It's a catalog of everything he has, and all the modifications," he told Han, whose eyes widened. He sat down at the terminal and quickly entered the database. A few minutes later, he heaved a sigh. "He hasn't got any former medical ships," he said. "Just a shuttle with emergency life support in case his suit gets damaged."

"Then we'll take that one," said Han instantly. "Where is it?"

"Theta-class shuttle, silver paint," said Luke, pointing towards the ship. "Over there."

"All right," said Han. "Has it got blasters and rations on board?" Luke nodded. "Then let's get Chewie, Threepio and Artoo and go. Of course, we could leave the golden hunk of metal here."

"I don't even know where Threepio is," said Luke, bewildered. "He didn't come with us into my father's chambers."

"Means he likes it here," sad Han with a laugh. "He's got a crush on Cutie."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back," he told the smuggler. "I'm going to find them."

Luke reentered the residence and returned to his room, where Chewie had ordered more food from the server droid—it seemed that they were all programmed with various languages. "Chewie, we've got to go," he said, and the wookiee looked up. "We've got everything we need," Luke affirmed to his question. "Do you know where Threepio is?"

Chewie growled the negative and stood, handing out a long, black cloth to Luke. He took it curiously. "What is this?"

Chewie indicated he should put it on, and Luke obeyed the wookiee, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw that it was the outer robe for the Jedi ensemble. He grinned. "Thanks, Chewie," he said gratefully. "Did you order it while Han and I were in the hangar?" The wookiee nodded, saying that he had once known a lot of Jedi and that this type of rescue mission just proved that he was one. "Thanks," Luke repeated humbly. "But we've got to go now. It takes three days to get there, and I don't know how badly my father is hurt." The wookiee nodded again and stood, ushering Luke out the door.

"Oh, Master Luke!" Threepio's panicked voice echoed down the hallway and Luke whipped around, seeing the battle droids from the training room following Threepio, sabers lit. "Help me, Master Luke! They simply won't respond to diplomacy! Nasty, brutish things!" Threepio cried.

Luke waved a hand and they all stopped and deactivated their blades. Caught with an idea, he walked over to the cluster of ten droids and said to them, "I am Master Luke Vader," he said. "You are to accompany us on a mission targeting Royal Guards and storm troopers. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Luke Vader," they all said in unison.

"You are not to attack civilians, C-3PO, R2-D2, Chewbacca, or Han Solo," said Luke in the same measured voice. "Our goal is to enter the Palace and retrieve Master Vader. Do you understand?"

They repeated: "Yes, Master Luke Vader."

"Good," said Luke. "Follow me," he said. Chewie growled questioningly at him. "I know what I'm doing," said Luke, his smile wan. "I helped to build them. At least, to rebuild them."

When they returned to the hangar, Han had already gotten the shuttle prepped for flight and the secret exit had opened, showing the bad weather outside. He appeared at the top of the boarding ramp, looking dubiously at the array of droids Luke had procured. "Nice army," he said. "Are they Jedi droids or something?"

Luke nodded. "More like Sith droids," he said. "They attacked me my first day here." He shuddered a little at the memory.

"Well, we're ready for takeoff," said Han. "And I found two suits of extra storm trooper armor. I think we should wear them."

"As a disguise?" Luke asked instantly, and the smuggler nodded. "It'll give us cover for at least a while, until we get to wherever your dad is. Speakin' of which, how're you gonna find 'im anyway?"

"The Force," said Luke shortly, buckling himself in the co-pilot's chair. "Let's get this show on the road," he said finally.

"Done," said Han, sliding into the pilot's seat and strapping himself in. He heaved a deep breath. "Let's go."

The shuttle rose into the air and Han carefully flew it through the tunnel at the opposite end of the hangar. Once they reemerged, it was storming badly and Han rose quickly to get out of the gale, and they were soon in space. "You ready?" the smuggler asked at last.

Luke nodded. "Let's do it.'

"All right, then," said Han, pushing a lever. In an instant, they entered hyperspace.

"I'm going to check on my father," Luke said, standing. "I'll be back in a few." He went to the back of the ship and sat down on one of the exposed seats, clearing his mind and reaching for the Force. This time, however, the swirling energy caught him in a web and slowly cleared to reveal a vision.

Luke lay on a bed, staring straight at the ceiling. He tried to move his neck from side to side, but he stubbornly remained still. He began to panic as he realized that he couldn't feel or move his arms and legs either. Some kind of mask over the lower half of his face obscured his vision.

"Lord Vader. Or, shall I say, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?" The voice was mocking. "It seems that your son does not perhaps care for you as much as we thought, hmm?" The voice was broken and harsh, and in the vision Luke felt the urge to cringe. The Emperor.

He moved his lips and a weak, hoarse voice, muffled by the breath mask over his face, left his lips. "He's smarter than you thought, you mean."

Palpatine let out a cackle. "He will come," he said after his laughter had subsided. "Even now, the presence that is your Jedi son grows nearer."

Luke could find nothing to say. He couldn't refute the statement, because they both knew it was truth. He remained silent.

"And I will turn him," Palpatine hissed. "He will fall, like his pathetic fool of a father did. And he will watch, and do nothing, as I kill you."

Luke felt a burst of desperation. "He won't turn," he said coldly. "My son is not so trusting as I was."

"'Trusting?'" Palpatine mocked. "You weren't trusting. You knew what was happening. All you could think was that you had to save your precious wife, your little senator. Padmé. And, like you, Luke will kill the one he will try to save."

Immense anger and shame swept through Luke. "You're wrong," he whispered hoarsely. "Luke won't turn."

Palpatine laughed. "Nonsense. You already began the process, my former apprentice."

"He won't."

"Then I shall prove it to you, when he comes to me, and offers his life for yours," said Palpatine. "The last of the Skywalkers will be mine."

Luke opened his eyes, chilled to the core. His vision—it had happened, he knew it. His father was somewhere in the Imperial Palace, with the Emperor hanging over him, mocking him. He carefully released his anger into the Force, more determined than ever not to turn. He reached out with the Force, feeling for his father's presence, and said quietly, Don't worry, Father. I won't turn. I swear it.

Vader was too exhausted to respond, but the rush of relief and pride was palpable. Luke smiled through his anxiety. Would they make it in time? Would Palpatine truly wait to kill his former apprentice until Luke was there?

Remembering Yoda's advice to focus on the present, Luke took several deep, slow breaths. He would need his strength for this.

"Are you ready?"

Luke looked up to see Han at the entrance of the cockpit. "As ready as I will be," he said tightly. He stood up and shut his eyes tightly.

"What's wrong?"

"The Emperor," Luke managed through gritted teeth. "He's looking for me. I'm having to concentrate really hard on my shields."

"Shields?" Han asked curiously.

"More magic," said Luke wryly once he opened his eyes. "You don't need them. You're what people call a blind spot in the Force."

"Thanks," Han replied dryly. "Let's get going," he said. "Why don't you pilot?"

Luke nodded and slid into the pilot's chair, using the positioning system to get closer to his father's rarely-used palace next to the Imperial Palace. "Chewie, you're going to have to act as though you're drugged," he said as he manipulated the controls of the modified shuttle. "Two stormtroopers wouldn't be able to handle you." The wookiee asked if Luke would be able to cloak his presence so that it wouldn't be necessary, and Luke furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure," he responded at last. "But the goal is to get to my father. We can't stir up trouble before then, because we need you to get him."

"Why is it you and I can't?" Han asked. "You made this part of the plan without even explainin' it."

"Because…" Luke struggled to explain. After a minute, he pressed the 'autopilot' button and turned to face Han. "Hold out your hands," he told the smuggler.

Han extended them, confused, and Luke rested his right and left hands on his. "Which one is a prosthetic?" he asked next, and Han's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"The right," he said. "It's way heavier."

"It took a while to get used to," Luke admitted. "Just imagine, first of all, what it would be like if most of your body was that. And then, how much you would weigh."

"I get it," Han said at last. "Yeah, Chewie, you can have that job," he said to the wookiee, who rolled his eyes.

Luke took the controls again, using the Force to insure their safety. Thus far, they hadn't needed to use clearance of any kind, which stirred up a kind of unease in him. Shouldn't they have had some kind of obstacle?

Finally, he lowered the shuttle into the docking bay in the military base below Vader's palace and the Imperial Palace, and immediately a squadron of stormtroopers marched forward. "Let's do it," said Luke weakly, snapping on the helmet to the storm trooper armor that they had changed into earlier.

Han did the same and with a wave of Luke's hand, the battle droids activated and trained their blasters on Chewie. "They're under strict orders, right?" Han asked nervously as he stepped forward to grab Chewie's left arm.

"Yes," said Luke shortly. "They won't fire or draw lightsabers until my command, and then I've ordered them only to attack Royal Guards and stormtroopers."

"Good," said the smuggler, just as the boarding ramp extended with the hiss of hydraulics. They stepped forward.

"Halt!" The squad awaiting them said. "State number and purpose."

"I am KF-20-01," said Luke firmly. "We're here to deliver this wookiee to the interrogation compound. He was captured on a rebel ship."

"Under whose orders?" The stormtrooper said nervously. Luke did a quick mind probe and saw that the trooper was VF-67-04. 04 meant that he was a lower rank than an '01,' which was why Luke had chosen that number. "Admiral Piett's," he said firmly. "Let us pass. The drugs on this wookiee won't last for long."

As if in response, Chewie growled deep in his throat and yanked at his arm, but Han held on grimly. "Very well," said the trooper quickly. "Go on. We'll refuel the shuttle for you."

"Good," said Luke. "Come on, you," he 'snapped' at Chewie, and grabbed his arm, marching forward.

The ten battle droids marched to their sides and behind them, obediently training their blasters on Chewie's head. "Where are we going?" Han hissed.

Just think what you want to say, and we can communicate like this, Luke responded into Han's head.

Behind the helmet, Han blanched, and his thoughts were easily loud enough to hear: What the hell?

Calm down, Luke advised. We can't draw attention by speaking aloud.

All right, all right, Han said finally. Do you know where we're going?

Yes. I can feel my father's presence, and the Emperor's, said Luke, with a mental shudder. There is a turbolift at the end of this corridor. We're going to take it to the bottom level and then we'll have to walk some more, I think, before we reach the medcenter.

"The interrogation block is comin' up, right?" said Han aloud to Luke.

"Yes, it is," Luke replied.

This is pretty easy, so far, Han observed. It's deserted.

That's what worries me, Luke said darkly. It's the middle of a war. There should be a lot more soldiers. This means the Emperor knows we're here. It's a trap.

Great, Han thought sarcastically as they stepped inside the turbolift. "Come on, wookiee," he said to Chewie to keep up pretenses. He yanked Chewie's arm and pulled him into the lift.

Chewie roared, Can you still feel him?

Yes, Luke responded mentally, widening the projection of his thoughts to include the wookiee. Listen, Chewie, he will be attached to a respirator. You cannot forget that, otherwise he'll die.

Chewie nodded his head as if agitated, and replied, Don't worry, I'll get him.

Thanks, Chewie.

The turbolift door opened and they walked forward, the growing sense of anxiety augmented as they entered another abandoned section of the base.

They marched forward down the hall, Luke noting the completely deserted rooms and interrogation chambers. He reached for the Force to calm himself and released his worries, focusing firmly on his goal. They were so close—he could feel Vader's presence. It was weak, too weak, but that simple comfort was enough to reassure him.

"Through this door," Luke said aloud, stopping in front of a large door. "Let's go, wookiee." Mentally, he added, We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. No one is in that room except for my father, but I can feel the Emperor nearby. He's going to try and trap us.

I don't wanna stay any longer than necessary, Han replied certainly.

The door swished open.

Luke paled behind his helmet, which he tore off. Forgetting any semblance of the plan, he rushed to the center of the room, where his father lay on a durasteel table.

Vader was unsuited and wore only a tattered body-suit that left most of his chest and his arms bare. There were scorch marks collected in the center of his chest—where the control box of the respirator was located—and on his neck and chin, where the vocoder was in the suit. Various red, blistering lines where wires had connected his body to the suit marked new injuries on the already scarred skin. The juncture points of his mechanical arms and skin were blackened and the machinery itself was melted in certain spots. At the base of his neck, several wires protruding from the skin had melted. A breath mask connected to a small portable unit lay over his mouth, and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.

"Father?" Luke asked desperately. "Father, can you hear me?"

Vader's eyes flickered open and his eyes widened in surprise. "Luke?" he whispered hoarsely. "Luke, what"—he stopped to wait for a breath to force itself into his lungs—"are you doing here?"

"We're here to rescue you," Luke said. "Come on, Chewie, hurry. Don't disconnect the breath mask."

Chewbacca moved into view and roared encouragement to Vader, whose mouth opened in surprise. "Luke, you have to get out of here," he said, straining to make himself heard. "Palpatine wants you to be his new apprentice! You can't let him!"

"I won't turn," said Luke confidently. "Don't worry, Father. Are you in pain?"

"Only my neck," he responded. "I'm paralyzed everywhere else."

Luke inhaled a sharp breath and let go of his anger at Palpatine. "Don't worry," he said gently. "I'm not here alone."

"Uh… Hey, my lord," said Han uneasily. He too had removed his helmet, and his pale, wide-eyed expression showed his discomfort.

"Solo," Vader greeted hoarsely. "Thank you for caring for my son."

Han shrugged uneasily. "Don't worry about it."

"Come on, Chewie, get him," Luke said to the wookiee, who was busy on the other side of the table. "I feel the Emperor. He's getting closer."

"Don't bother, Luke, just run," Vader rasped. "I should've died a long time ago."

"No," Luke said firmly. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Luke—"

"That's enough," Luke said sharply. "Do as I say, Father."

Vader's brow rose in surprise. "I see you've gotten insolent since we last spoke," he wheezed.

"Not insolent," said Luke with the barest hint of a smile that quickly turned into worry. "You ready, Chewie?"

The wookiee nodded. "What's going on?" Vader asked questioningly, just as Chewie reached down and placed the breather on his chest, taking care to avoid the electrical burns, and picked him up.

"Let's go," said Luke, shedding the armor to give himself more flexibility.

"Nice robes," Vader managed.

"Thanks," said Luke. "I can get you some just like them."

"We haven't got much time," said Han, avoiding looking at the Emperor's former apprentice. "Come on."

Luke led the way to the door and Vader caught his first glimpse of the battle droids and choked out a small laugh. With a wave of Luke's hand, the door slid open.

"Ah. You arrived at last."

Luke looked up to see the small, robed figure of the Emperor standing in front of the door, several red-robed Royal Guards behind him. Feeling anger boil up at him at the sight of the despot, he quickly rid himself of it.

"Emperor Palpatine," he greeted coldly.

"My new apprentice," he returned, his croak of a voice giving even Han the chills.

"I will never be your apprentice," Luke said firmly, his voice belaying no fear. "Let us pass."

"I think not," said Palpatine smoothly. "Now that you are old enough, I have no need of the weak fool that is your father. You will become stronger than he ever was, stronger, perhaps, than I am, one day. Join me."

"Never," Luke replied coolly. "My allegiance is to the Jedi and to my father."

"I sense the anger in you, my young apprentice," Palpatine hissed, stepping back. "Your desire, above all else, is to strike me down."

"No," said Luke. "You know nothing of me."

"Fool," Palpatine said scathingly. "Do you truly think that you will be able to leave as quietly as you entered? I had the halls cleared, the guards under orders not to attack you, just so you could see what will happen to you if you defy me." He gestured at Vader's form, Chewie still carrying him gamely. "Anakin Skywalker," he mocked. "Your noble father."

"I would die before I join you," Luke said. "You will not turn me as you did him."

"Enough of this!" Han suddenly yelled. He raised his blaster and shot at one of the guards, who, surprised, didn't dodge, and fell to the ground dead.

Immediately, the guards clustered around Palpatine and drew him back, inadvertently giving an opening for the rescue party to leave.

"GO!" Luke roared, and immediately Han and Chewie, carrying Vader, and four battle droids went forward, moving as quickly as they were able down the hall. The remaining droids filed out of the room, lightsabers lit. "Activate Code 21," Luke said sharply and immediately the droids marched forward towards the guards.

Luke turned and sprinted down to hall, using the Force to enhance his speed. He caught up to Han and Chewie in the turbolift. "Let the droids out first," he told Han, who nodded, pale. "Father, are you all right?" There was no response from Vader. He had passed out. Luke nervously checked his Father's presence in the Force, and found him to be stable. He reached into a pocket and dragged out the comm device to which he was connected to Artoo and Theepio. "Artoo?" he questioned. "Start the warm-up sequences. We'll be there soon."

A flurry of beeps on the other end confirmed the transmission and Luke stuffed it back into the pocket. "There will be storm troopers," he told Han. "Chewie, get my father to the ship at all costs. I can take care of myself."

The wookiee nodded and the turbolift door slid open. Luke stepped forward grimly, the battle droids behind him.

Immediately two squadrons of stormtroopers ran forward, blasters poised to shoot. "GO!" Luke shouted, activating his lightsaber. The stormtroopers stepped back in momentary surprise and then recovered, deciding that they had him. Luke Force-jumped over to Chewie, who was running flat out towards the shuttle, and raised a hand, calling the Force to him to create a shield around the wookiee and his father that would protect them from the lasers.

His eyes widened as he saw, as if in slow motion, a blaster bolt headed squarely for Han's temple. He waved his hand and it veered right, killing a stormtrooper instantly. The shuttle's boarding ramp lowered and Chewie ran up into the relative safety of the vessel, leaving Han and Luke to fight the storm troopers, who had called for backup.

"Han! Go on!" Luke called to the smuggler, leaping over and quickly deflecting several blaster bolts with his lightsaber. The battle droids had activated their lightsabers as well, recognizing the close proximity, and were making quick work of the rest of the troopers.

"Not without you!" Han retorted grimly as several Royal Guards streamed in from the halls.

"We can't get them all, Han," Luke told his friend. "We need to get out of here."

As Luke's lightsaber came within an inch of his nose to block a laser, Han said, "I agree. Let's go!"

Erecting a hasty shield to block the last few blaster shots, Luke grabbed Han's arm and bolted for the boarding ramp, which had just started to lift. "STOP THEM!" An unnaturally loud voice, cracked and broken, roared from the room. Luke tensed as he sensed the Emperor's clawing at his mind, trying to force him to stay. He slid into the pilot's chair and quickly powered up, gunning the thrusters as the hangar entrance began to close.

"Hold on!" he shouted, allowing the Force to direct his hands over the controls. They made it out of the hangar just in time, and Luke immediately activated the modified engines, shooting them from the atmosphere of Coruscant. Already, government cruisers raced towards them. "We've got to go to Bain," said Luke quickly. "Artoo—"

"NO!" Han said at once. "If it was a present from the Emperor, then that's the first place he'll look. Go back to Mustafar!" Artoo obeyed him and a second later, they disappeared into hyperspace.

Luke let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "We did it," he said weakly.

Han nodded. "I can't believe I'm not dead," he muttered.

Luke bit his lip. "I'm going to go and check on him," he said, moving to the back portion of the shuttle to see Chewie lay Vader's unconscious form onto the medical bed. "Thanks, Chewie," he said quietly.

The wookiee shrugged and replied that it was least he could do, seeing as Vader had let him go.

Luke moved over and reached for the ventilator that was part of the life-support system on the ship. "Do you know how to do this?" he asked the wookiee, furrowing his brow. Chewie shook his head. "I'll have to wake him up," Luke said unhappily. He pressed a hand to his father's temple, and closed his eyes.

A second later, he returned to consciousness. Vader blinked for a second and then his eyes widened. "Luke?"

Luke managed a small smile. "We got away," he said. "I need to know how to connect the life support."

"Luke, I am going to kill you," Vader growled. "Why did you put yourself into such needless danger? You could have been killed, or worse, made into his apprentice, whether you wanted to be or not!"

Luke waited patiently for his father to stop lecturing. "But we got away," he reminded him once he'd stopped. "And you're safe now. How do I do the life-support?"

"The portable breather is fine," his father replied a second later. "What ship am I on?" he questioned after a moment, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I think it's called the Rescuer, which is apt," said Luke.

"My ship?" Vader asked in some surprise. "Then there's a 2-1B unit in the cargo hold as well as an operating chamber."

"Really?" Luke asked, shocked. "I didn't know that."

"I added it, in case I was ever incapacitated for some reason," Vader explained. "Take me down there. The 2-1B can replace the damaged vertebrae in my neck."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Luke asked doubtfully. "You don't look so good, Father."

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's the prosthetics that took a beating."

"I think you should wait," said Luke firmly. "You'll get medical care—proper medical care—when we get to the base."

"The base?"

"Yeah. We're going to the Rebel base," said Luke, smiling slightly.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Vader asked doubtfully. "Why would they give me medical care?"

"They will," said Luke. "Now, sleep." He used a bit of the Force on the command, and in his weakened state, his father didn't even notice, just closed his eyes. A second later, he was asleep.

Luke stood and returned to the cockpit and sat down next to Han with a weary sigh. "How is he?"

"Sleeping," Luke replied, his jaw tense. For all his bravado, he was truly worried about his father. "Han, how bad do you think it is?"

"I dunno," said Han truthfully. "But, kid…"

"What?"

"He looks bad," said Han bluntly. "Not just his arms. It's like… he's covered with scars. I had no idea."

"I know," said Luke darkly. "Getting burned alive tends to do that to a person."

Han sighed. "What do you think will happen on Mustafar?"

"Only one way to find out," Luke said after a moment. "Let's just hope for the best."