Captain Ylek was sitting at his computer when his door chime buzzed. He quickly entered his personal password and encrypted the file he was working on, before switching off his computer.
"Come in," he called, standing up to receive his guest.
The door opened and Mon Mothma, followed by Anakin Skywalker and two security guards entered his quarters.
"Mrs. President," he greeted her politely. "And company," he nodded his head to the other visitors. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"
Mon Mothma answered with a feral smile.
"We have come to search your quarters."
The bland expression on the Twi'lek's face gave way to one of shock.
"And what do you expect to find here?" he asked.
"Evidences of high treason."
"Excuse me?!" The green eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Please, Captain, save us your performance," Mon Mothma cut off, raising her hand as if dismissing a child's attempt to deny he had been caught red-handed with both hands in the cookie jar. "We know you are involved. So, if you will be so kind as to take a seat and make yourself comfortable, these two security guards will search your quarters, and Artoo will take care of your computer."
She moved aside, and the little blue droid rolled in. He stopped by the terminal and plugged in his computer arm. A few seconds later, he let out a very revealing whistle, that let everybody know he had found something.
Anakin activated the computer screen and searched through the files Artoo was decrypting. Some time later, his big body stiffened. He swivelled around slowly in the chair and faced the immediately paling Twi'lek. The Jedi's features were contorted with hatred and anger. Anger that was only a heartbeat away from being released.
"So, my son's X-Wing was your next target," he hissed. His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. "A little short-circuit that would make the fuel tanks of his ship blow up. And 'good riddance,' in your own words."
"ANAKIN!" Mon Mothma cried out.
Anakin blinked, to find himself on his feet and reaching for the recoiling man with a clawed hand. His President's hand was on his chest, restraining him with only the power of her authority. He swallowed hard several times, reaching for the Light with fast and deep intakes of breath.
"I apologize for my lack of control," he uttered.
"It is quite understandable." Mon Mothma put down her hand. "I don't know what would I do if I found out that some bastard had been plotting my child's assassination." She turned to the now emotionless face of the Twi'lek, not bothering to hide all the sickness and contempt she felt. "Take him away," she told one of the security guards. "He will be the first of several."
When the doors closed after Captain Ylek and the security guard, Anakin collapsed on the chair. He buried his face in his hands and let out a dry laugh.
"And to think I recommended him to you when we formed a government," he shook his head, amazed at his stupidity.
"Just as I recommended my Security Chief, who's being arrested just now."
Anakin bit his lower lip, shaking his head non-stop in total disbelief.
"Force, there are traitors everywhere!" he exclaimed, unable to believe the sequence of events unfolding at that very moment. Things were happening faster than his brain could process. "I will never learn," he muttered to himself in sheer dejection.
"I could say the same thing," Mon Mothma pointed out. "But I will not. I won't allow a bunch of traitors to undermine my trust in people. I'd rather be overconfident than distrustful of everyone."
Anakin kept worrying his lower lip for a while, pondering the wisdom of his President's words. He ended up nodding in heartfelt agreement.
"Yes, you're right. I know I shouldn't be like this. But it's in my nature." He looked at the computer screen. "The mere thought of someone, anyone, conspiring to commit murder in such cold-blood... It's so inhuman, so against every moral... Oh, my son!" he closed his eyes tight, shivering to his very core.
"I know. I know, my friend." Mon Mothma reached out and squeezed the tense shoulder affectionately. "Life will never stop teaching us painful lessons. But it is up to us how to take those lessons. Either for the best... or the worst." She smiled down at the vulnerably bent head. "But there is still much goodness and love in the galaxy. We mustn't forget that. You're keeping my faith in goodness, Anakin. I don't know what would I do without you; especially now, after Areen."
The choked voice made the Jedi master look up and see the misty eyes of his President. No, not his President right now. Just a friend in need of comforting. He smiled up softly at her and held the smaller hand on his shoulder.
"It is too late for Captain Ylek, but not for Areen. Leia saw it." His gaze turned introspective. "I think that's the reason why he's not returning. At sometime, he must have realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life, but he was too far gone by then. He probably thought we would never trust him again." He shook his head, amazed at his own level of understanding. "He was caught between a rock and a hard place. And he still is, wherever he is."
Mon Mothma blinked several times, in awe.
"How did you get so wise?" she asked, with more than a bit of self-deprecation.
Anakin smiled ironically.
"Been there, done that. And it took me over twenty years and a certain young Jedi to make me see there is always a chance, for all of us. I only had to believe I deserved that chance... and forgive myself. And that is the hardest part. It always was." He sighed, feeling old and weary. "It was my inability to forgive myself 23 years ago that convinced me I was beyond redemption. And when you think there is no absolution possible from your crimes, you only sink deeper into your own infamy. You glory and relish your crimes, that much you hate yourself." Quiet tears ran down his face. "I will never believe I deserve forgiveness. It was Luke's love for me that made me see things differently. If my son could still forgive me, perhaps I could try to forgive myself; or at least, try to live with the weight of my crimes and not degrade myself any more."
Mon Mothma's fingers slid through her Vice-President's hair, in a lovingly maternal caress.
"I will never thank your son enough for turning you back. This galaxy needs you far more than we know," she said, solemnly.
"I wish I could compensate you all for everything I did. But I can't. I never will." Anakin stared at the wall with unblinking eyes. "My past will catch up with me one day, and then... everything will be over." He sighed again. "I pray that the day that happens, my children and everyone else will be spared."
"Don't think that way," Mon Mothma whispered, kneading the back of his neck. "Don't let this situation break you. We need your strength and your insight, now more than ever."
Soft beeping and whistling made them look at the little droid. Artoo rolled up to Anakin and let out some soothing sounds of support and caring.
The older Jedi smiled bitterly and placed his hand on the droid's dome, patting it affectionately.
"You're biased, Artoo. The fact that you've known me since I was nine years old has clouded your judgement."
The next raspberry sounds resembled offensive tones too much, if not outright rudeness. Anakin ended up laughing despite himself.
"All right, you made your point." He put aside his impractical feelings of self-pity and stood up. "Did you collect all the evidences here?"
Artoo beeped assent.
Anakin turned to his President and bowed his head courteously.
"Shall we, my friend?" his blue eyes shone with gratitude and affection.
Mon Mothma smiled fondly and nodded.
Captain Ylek entered the Great Hall, escorted by heavily armed guards. He calmly took a seat, facing his questioners, who happened to be his former associates in the government.
Everybody stood up formally.
"The meeting to question former Captain Ylek, ex-member of the Senate and the New Republic, is opened," Mon Mothma declared ceremoniously.
"I want it to be noted that I don't recognize this Council's authority to question me," Ylek spat, his voice oozing hatred.
"Your objection will go on record," the President replied coldly.
All members of the Council took their seats as one, staring at the man who had been their ally for over six months, who now appeared before them as a total stranger.
The moment the members of the Council took their seats, Ylek stood up, in a blatant gesture of provocation.
"You may stand, if you so wish," Mon Mothma's voice was full of disdain, as if addressing a rebellious child. "This isn't going to be a real questioning, anyway. We all know very well where we stand, and thankfully, we have been able to arrest most of those involved in this conspiracy to bring down the Republic. We know everything we needed to know."
The corner of Ylek's mouth twitched in a lopsided, nasty grin, and Anakin's blood ran cold in his veins.
"As you can imagine, I won't answer any questions that incriminate me," he said.
"You don't have to. The evidence against all of you is overwhelming. You will be locked up for a very long time. Probably for life, if you don't open your eyes to the wrongness of your ways," Mon Mothma's words came strong and assured.
"I fail to understand what am I doing here, then." Ylek squared his shoulders.
"You are here to try and explain what prompted you to turn against every law and moral across the galaxy. What did you expect to gain? Do you condone indiscriminate slaughter to vindicate... whatever you're trying to vindicate?" Mon Mothma's face reddened in outrage.
"And why do you presume to be the bearers of morality in the galaxy," Ylek's voice was full of venom, "when you made the biggest butcher in the known universe your Vice-President?"
"And you expressed your disagreement with our decision by risking innocent lives on Veltra, killing Lieutenant Dobson and a married couple? Planting land-mines where anyone could step? Trying to blow up the Millennium Falcon and Captain Skywalker's X-Wing?" Mon Mothma's eyes flashed with barely controlled anger. "You're nothing but a bunch of ordinary terrorists. Don't come up with stock excuses, for that's exactly what they are. Excuses to commit mass murder."
"I didn't admit to being a part of this so-called conspiracy, your Excellency," Ylek reminded her mockingly. "I am merely humouring you for the sake of discussion."
"Why you...!" Mon Mothma reached the limit of her endurance for the first time in her life.
"Excuse me, Mrs. President," Luke Skywalker spoke for the first time, rising to his feet. He looked at Mon Mothma and bowed his head, asking her permission politely. "I am personally interested in this 'discussion.'" He pronounced the word with as much irony as he could muster. He came down the few steps separating him from Ylek and stopped right in front of him. "For the 'sake of discussion'," he tilted his head to one side in an obviously sarcastic gesture, "am I to understand that you are against former criminals' rehabilitation? Do you believe that a redeemed life doesn't deserve a second chance, if it shows repentance and proves its worth and usefulness? Do you consider it a threat to your personal beliefs and principles? Do your beliefs and principles condone indiscriminate killing instead?" He took one last step forward and his stare intensified. "Do you honestly believe that other people's crimes justify your own?"
Ylek met his stare challengingly, without saying a word.
"If you thought so, why did you stand with us and implicitly agree with our President's words on the day of this government's investiture before the entire galaxy? Why did you agree to be a member of this government in the first place?" Luke raised a very revealing eyebrow. "Perhaps you had already begun to plot overthrowing the government, when it became obvious it wouldn't be what you and your... associates wanted it to be. It gave you the best vantage point. You had full access to everything you needed, and you were always up to date with how close we were getting." He inched even closer to Ylek, until they were face to face, with Ylek looking down at the slightly shorter man, his face a mask of hatred and conniving malice.
The ego contest lasted for several seconds, until a warm hand settled on young Skywalker's shoulder.
Luke didn't have to look to know who was touching him. That touch was forever imprinted on his skin, heart and soul.
The gentle hand moved him away from Ylek, and only then did Luke look up at his father. Anakin was smiling softly at him, all of him radiant with love and pride. His hand moved from his child's shoulder to his cheek, cradling it in sheer adoration.
Luke's eyes misted for a moment, but then, he pressed his father's palm to his face, nodded at him and moved calmly behind him.
"What's the matter?" Ylek asked venomously. "Can't your son fight his own battles?"
"My son was fighting for his life all the years you were sitting comfortably on the bridge of the Executor, searching for coded Rebel transmissions," Anakin replied, his voice full of contempt. "It just makes me feel uneasy to see him that close to you," he wrinkled his nose, as if Ylek smelled.
"Now," Anakin went on after a brief pause. "For the sake of discussion," he pursued the increasingly hateful exchange, "would you so be kind as to tell us the names of those we still haven't arrested, and where are they hiding?"
"You've been playing too much with your lightsaber if you think I'd tell you who's involved. If I knew, that is," Ylek smiled maliciously.
"We already know who's involved," Anakin smiled back, just as dangerously. "We just want to know specific names and places."
"You already know?" Ylek asked in a sickly voice and with a fake expression of shock. "You must be a bunch of geniuses, then."
"As a matter of fact, most of us sitting at this side of the table have very high IQs," Anakin pointed out in a surprisingly light-hearted manner. "But it doesn't take a genius to see it; we only have to look at the people we have arrested so far. This threat is a combination of two different forces: the former Empire and the former Alliance's forces."
Ylek's eyes bulged and his body stiffened noticeably in reaction to the older Jedi's words.
"The Empire half never wanted peace to begin with. They wanted total annihilation of the Rebellion. And the Alliance half considered unacceptable a truce with their arch-enemies, especially when Darth Vader was made Vice-President."
It was the first time that Anakin referred to himself by his Sith name, but his voice never wavered or showed any emotion. He was merely stating a fact. The fact that to millions of beings across the galaxy, he would always be Darth Vader, no matter what he did. A fleeting look of infinite sadness crossed his eyes.
A loving hand came to rest on his forearm and moved him aside gently, as Luke stepped forward and took over.
"And now that we put our cards on the table, it's useless to deny it any longer, Captain. Your body language gave you away. Have a final gesture of decency and cooperate."
Ylek's features contorted with outrage and hatred.
"Cooperate?! Cooperate with a government made of pardoned criminals from both sides and preaching hypocrites?" he spat. "Cooperate! That word is not in my vocabulary."
"It was in your vocabulary, when you didn't hesitate to form an alliance with your enemies to bring down the Republic, and sacrifice all those who stood in your way; men, women and children, if necessary." Luke's face reddened and his eyes flashed with more anger than he'd ever felt. "Instead of working together for the common good and helping to close the wounds separating both sides, you all cooperated in perfect harmony to disrupt and destroy the peace that took so many lives." He moved back, disgusted, unable to stand that stranger's nearness. "Of course, your new government would be made of angels with clear consciences and no blood on their hands, right?"
Ylek made a gurgling noise from deep in his throat and a second later, a blob of saliva ran down Luke's face.
Anakin hissed like a Corellian python and lunged forward, but Luke put up his arm, holding his father back with that little gesture.
"I rest my case," he said, wiping away the liquid running down his cheek.
"We have seen and heard enough," Mon Mothma's voice was uncharacteristically clipped and low. "Take him away. He and his accomplices will be judged and convicted once this conspiracy has been fully uncovered and defeated."
A long silence followed Ylek and his escorts' departure.
"There will be true peace one day?" Mon Mothma said at last, shaking her head dejectedly.
"There will be periods of relative calm, but occasional bouts of violence will arise here and there, that is inevitable," Anakin replied softly. "Hopefully, this government will be given a chance to prove itself, and that will put many fears at ease. Until then..." he trailed off, shrugging expressively.
"It doesn't matter how old I get," General Dodonna spoke for the first time. "I will never understand criminal behaviour. Their mental processes to justify indiscriminate slaughter. No remorse, no second thoughts, no..."
"To them, we are the guilty party. It's as simple as that," Rieekan butted in. "In their eyes, we had no authority to form a government. We are a hypocritical and self-righteous bunch, with no power to tell anyone what is right and what is wrong. We left them no choice but to get rid of us."
"Captain Skywalker hit the nail on the head with his words," Mon Mothma's voice joined in the conversation, after a few moments of soul-searching. "Instead of voicing their objections, they automatically resorted to violence to dispose of a government they considered illegal and downright criminal." She let out a dry laugh, overwhelmed by the irony of the situation. "Both sides worked together, proving that true cooperation is indeed possible, to destroy instead of creating." She shook her head and looked down. "Pathetic."
"Are you all right?" Leia asked her brother when Luke took his seat beside her, wiping away the remaining wetness on his face with her fingers.
The young man nodded, smiling absent-mindedly at her.
"That bastard seemed to hold a personal grudge against you." Han pounded the table with his fist, releasing all the pent-up anger he had accumulated during the questioning. "I swear that if..."
"I had to force him to sit several times," Leia told Luke, stroking his hand soothingly.
"I don't blame you," Luke said glumly. "I was this close to losing it, too."
"Some people have the 'gift' of bringing out the worst in others," Lando commented ruefully. "That guy's a real psycho. I can't believe he fooled us all for over six months."
"Thanks to Leia's gift, we were able to uncover some of them." Anakin walked up to his daughter and placed a hand on Leia's shoulder, proudly. "But there are others. A scheme of this magnitude cannot be carried out with just eleven people. Dozens are needed, at the very least."
Everybody nodded silently, in total agreement.
"They will be off Coruscant, ready to strike as soon as the word is given," Rieekan pursued the logical reasoning.
"And they will have to strike soon, now that their plan is out in the open, and some of their master minds have been arrested," Madine completed it. "We must assume they have ships and weaponry at their disposal they still haven't made use of. I recommend for all our posts to be put on alert, and our planetary defences to be activated."
"Do it," Mon Mothma ordered without hesitation. "This building, among others, is to be considered a primary target."
"The drills will be resumed tomorrow," Anakin voiced his President's implicit order.
"We must be prepared for an imminent attack. All the Squadrons will be on standby until further notice," was the President's final order.
"As Captain of the Rogue Squadron, does this include me, your Excellency?" Luke asked.
"Not yet." Mon Mothma walked up to the immediately standing young man. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I know this is not going to sound too Presidential, but you do us proud, Luke Skywalker. Your wisdom and integrity are an example to us all."
Luke blushed bright red and his eyes turned to his father, as if looking for help. Anakin chuckled softly and winked at him.
A heartbeat later the President was back, as she faced her executives.
"I will not sit here and wait. Have Intelligence working day and night. We must find out where are they hiding and when they plan to attack, if that is their intention. Democracy will prevail this time."
"Yes, your Excellency," was the fierce chorus answer.
It was hot. Unbearably hot. Heat came out of him in waves. It wrapped itself around him, suffocating him. And then, it was suddenly cold. He struggled to breathe with increasing difficulty. And that smell... That ugly, nauseating smell... Burned flesh...
He half-closed his eyes, desperate to focus, desperate to see beyond the fog around his eyes. He couldn't see, but he could feel. He could feel them all, huddled round him. He could feel their fear, their shock, their horror...
His senses began to abandon him gradually. He felt dizzy, as if he was floating, detached from himself and his surroundings. He tried to stay conscious, but it was a lost battle. He floated away, and away... and there was peace. Peace as he had never known...
"NO!" he cried out, sitting up in his bed with a brutal start. His hand instinctivey searched for the lights, but he stopped in mid-gesture.
No. It was time to stop running and get to the bottom of this dream. He knew it meant something. He had to concentrate and figure out what it was.
Perhaps he was handling it wrong. Perhaps, deep down, he didn't want to know what it meant. Perhaps he was too scared to uncover its real meaning.
No fear. Just detached curiosity, as master Yoda had taught him.
The young man relaxed and slowly, curiously, opened his mind to the feelings and images in his dream. It wasn't quite there, yet. He had to reach deeper. Deeper...
And then, in a flash of merciless insight, the significance of the dream became clear.
All colour left his face, leaving it pasty white. His body froze. His soul shrank in terror.
He remained as he was for what seemed like hours, but in fact were only a few minutes.
Silent, resigned tears streamed down his cheeks.
He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face. A new day had come. A long, busy day, full of uncertainties, just like any other day.
Anakin's mind awakened slowly and as usual, he took the first few minutes of this brand new day to enjoy the feelings his skin transmitted to his brain. He rejoiced in those sensations every single morning of his new life. The soft, delicate feel of the sheets on his body, the fluffy comfort of the pillow under his head, the weight of something lying across his chest...
That one was new. Whatever it was, it was heavy enough for his ribcage to make an extra effort to keep him breathing. And it was warm, too. Heavy and warm, and somehow... familiar. From a very long time ago.
Past and present came together in his mind, and unable to tell the difference anymore, Anakin opened his eyes to make certain he wasn't going mad.
The sight that greeted his eyes was a mop of dishevelled blond hair sticking out from beneath the sheets.
The older Jedi's heart exploded in a surge of tenderness as he'd never known. His eyes filled with tears, and the most overwhelming feeling of protection rose in his chest. His arms moved automatically to wrap themselves around the body resting on him. One hand grabbed the sheets and moved them down a little.
Luke's head appeared before him. The upper half of his body was lying on him, his left hand forming a fist and clinging to his pyjama top like a frightened child. His face was hidden in his chest, where he seemed to have buried it, seeking refuge.
Overcome by more love than he could handle, Anakin caressed the already ruffled hair, feeling it between his fingers as he had never done before. It was soft and thin, like Aquaris' velvet. He bent his head a little and sniffed at it. It smelled of cleanser and something else, something that was uniquely Luke.
He knew that newborn babies engraved their parents' scent in their minds, to be able to recognize them when their other senses weren't as developed. He wondered if that was also true for the babies' parents, even if their 'babies' were in their twenties. He only knew he would recognize Luke's scent anywhere and for as long as he lived.
"My little one, my precious little angel," he whispered, safe in the knowledge of not being heard. He pressed his lips to the top of the tousled hair.
He didn't know what had brought Luke into his bed. His intuition told him it had to be either a nightmare or a discovery that had disturbed him so much that it had forced him to seek out his father's comfort. Whatever it was, he was almost grateful for it.
Long, blissful minutes passed thus for the older man. One of the dreams he didn't dare to dream because he knew it would never come true, had been realized today. Now, if only Luke would grant him the other... One little, insignificant word, that to him would be the greatest gift of his lifetime.
Dad.
Then, much too soon, Luke began to stir in his arms. Anakin felt him rubbing his face against his chest like an awakening cub. He set to watch him, revelling in every cute little gesture he was so privileged to witness.
Luke turned his head to one side, resting the right side of his face on his chest. The blond lashes fluttered open. A few moments passed, as the young man took in his unusual surroundings. Anakin prepared himself for the instinctive stiffening of the smaller body. When it came, he could barely hold back a grin.
But it took his child longer to relax, and instead of relaxing fully, Luke enfolded him in his arms and clung to him like a drowning man to a lifesaver.
Frowning suspiciously, Anakin's own arms responded to the aching distress emanating from his son. He enveloped his child in his long arms and held him intensely.
It was then that Luke realized his father was awake. Embarrassment poured out of him, and a deep blush covered his face and neck. Even the little ears went bright red.
Anakin's hand buried itself in his child's hair.
'Like this or you'd rather talk?' he sent mentally.
Luke squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as if trying to exorcise a scary monster.
"That nightmare again?" Anakin asked out loud.
Luke nodded.
"Calm down, Son. I am here. You are safe." Anakin kissed the blond head reassuringly.
"I'm sorry I ended up here. My room was collapsing on me. Metaphorically speaking, of course," Luke's voice was muffled against his chest.
Anakin smiled. Luke's ironical sense of humour chose the funniest moments to surface. Usually, the more upset he was.
"The only positive aspect of it is that it brought you to me," he whispered in a cheerful manner.
"I see my teachings are bearing fruit, at last," Luke smiled, looking away.
"Better late than never," Anakin replied.
"Yes," Luke nodded, his voice deeper than usual.
They stayed like that for a little while, in silence, soaking up each other's love and devotion.
"What frightens you so?" Anakin asked gently.
"I sense great danger," was the clipped reply.
"When? How? In what way?" Anakin bombarded his child with questions.
"I don't know." Luke closed his eyes. "Something big is going to happen and I fear we won't be ready for it when it does. We must stick together and fight as one. Everything's chaotic and jumbled... I cannot describe it."
"One's never truly ready for things like this, but we are forewarned. And..."
"...Forewarned is forearmed," they said at the same time.
"We're a walking encyclopedia of proverbs," Anakin chuckled. Then, he got deadly serious as he looked down at the cherished head he cradled. "Have you tried meditating about this dream during the day? It's easier sometimes."
"I intend to do it," Luke nodded, a deep shudder running up and down his body. "I can't shake off this feeling of foreboding."
"I know how it is." Anakin shut his eyes, turning his mind away from those terrible memories. "And the worst part is not knowing if you're meant to do something or not. And if you are supposed to do something, what are you exactly supposed to do."
Luke nodded again.
"What's the point of having these dreams anyway if there is nothing we can do to change them, or we have no idea what do do?" Luke's hands grabbed his father's top desperately.
"It's a needless torture," Anakin swallowed the bitter lump in his throat.
"Yes, needless." Luke lay limp on his father, dejectedly.
No more words were needed. They were on the same wavelength, always.
Anakin knew it was time for them to get up, but a huge part of him was reluctant to give up this blessed closeness. Now that he'd had another glimpse at the beauty of yet something else he had missed, he just couldn't let it go. Not so soon.
And judging from the way Luke burrowed into him, his son was just as reluctant to move.
"What is it, Luke?" The question was out of his lips before he could even think about it. He wondered why.
"I need you," was the heartbreaking answer. "I will always need you." Were there... tears in that voice?
"Oh, my angel!" Anakin's heart ached as if a fist was squeezing the life out of it.
"Hold me," Luke begged unashamedly.
"For as long as you need me. Forever!" Anakin promised fervently, increasing his already strong hold until he thought he could hear Luke's ribs crack.
"I don't know what's happening to me. I— I just..." Luke tried to explain himself.
"Shhh, it's all right. We don't have to be strong all the time. We all feel alone and scared occasionally. Don't be ashamed of needing this." Anakin cuddled his child. "I need it more than you do," he whispered into his ear in a fortright confession of his innermost feelings.
"I love you, Father," Luke murmured against Anakin's skin.
"And I love you, Son. Even if at a time like this you're still refusing to call me 'Dad,'" Anakin tried to bring some levity to the moment.
It worked. Luke let out a choked sob.
"The right moment will come. Fear not," he replied cryptically.
They stopped worrying about the time. This was all that mattered. All they needed. All they would ever need.
"I am complete," Anakin said to himself contentedly, not really expecting to be heard.
"Me too," Luke wiped his tears away in his father's chest. "I am the most fortunate person in the galaxy. Life granted me the only thing I ever wanted. I got my father back. My Father. Mine!" In a final burst of need, he clung to Anakin, almost hurting him with the strength he exerted.
'My treasure,' Anakin thought to himself, wiping his own tears away in the silky blond strands.
Unexpectedly, Luke raised on his elbows and looked down at his father with a wistful smile on his face.
Anakin had often caught his child looking at him like that, but there was such an unbearable longing in his stare this time that his heart skipped a beat.
"Luke..." he began, reaching up and framing his son's cheek in his palm.
"Just want to look at you. To remember this moment forever," Luke interrupted him, wrapping his arms around his father's neck and embracing him one last, desperate time. Then, opening the sheets impulsively, he jumped off the bed.
"Captain Skywalker, ready for duty, sir!" he saluted Anakin formally.
Anakin contemplated his son, shaking his head. His pyjamas were so rumpled that he looked like a sloppy five year old. This young man was like quicksilver. Part child, part man, part innocent, part worldly, all wisdom. All Love.
But the older Jedi had learned his lessons well. He was an expert on smoke-screens. And even if Luke was good at it too, he still had a long way to go. Anakin could read his child like an open book. Luke was extremely disturbed about something. Something he was loath to share with him.
His every instinct screamed at him to push, but he also knew that Luke would only tell him when he was ready to talk about it, not a moment before.
Well, he would wait until tonight, not a minute longer. It was his prerrogative as a parent and he intended to take full advantage of it, be it fair or not. Secrets had a tendency to backfire in the worst possible way, and he wouldn't let it happen again.
His decision already made, Anakin got up too, returning the formal salute.
"Very well, young man. Report to me when you are washed and dressed. Dismissed."
Luke nodded, and a flicker of raw fear crossed his eyes one heartbeat before turning about.
"Thank you for coming to me." Anakin's voice was sweet and loving like a soothing caress now. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a father for you."
Luke stopped in mid-step and nodded once more, slowly.
"Luke," his father called when he was about to reach the doors.
This time, the young Jedi turned around and faced him.
Anakin's features lit up and he opened his arms wide. An instant later, he was holding an armful of little Jedi, pressing up to him as if his very life depended on it.
"You know I'd die a billion times before hurting you or having you disappointed in me, don't you, my son?" Anakin's words came out in a rush. "You know I love you more than anything and I won't let anyone hurt you. You know..."
"I love you when you get all topsy-turvy, Father," Luke silenced the nervous babbling, burying his face in the strong chest, feeling as if he could live there forever. "Thank you for putting up with my fears and insecurities. Thank you for this." He filled his lungs with his father's scent. How reassuring and calming it was!
"I wish I had to 'put up' with this every day of my life," Anakin replied out loud.
The mess hall was full to bursting. Today would be a very strenuous day for everybody, and they were preparing themselves for it by having lengthy and heavy breakfasts.
One of the tables was occupied by 'the Skywalker Bunch,' as every Squadron called it fondly. They had taken that particular table from day one, and it was implicitly acknowledged by everyone that it was the Skywalker family's table. It wasn't the best table of all, by any means. It was just... theirs.
Everyone was welcome at that table, in any case, whenever they wished. There were always a couple empty seats, in quiet invitation. And quite often, someone accepted the invitation.
Today, though, no one did. It was as if they felt that the Skywalker family needed to be alone together.
"So, how many children do you intend to have?" Luke asked Han and Leia out of the blue.
Everybody but the young Jedi choked on their breakfast, and they had to slap each other's backs until they caught their breath.
"Jeeez, kid, talk about subtle!" Han commented, blushing to the roots of his hair.
"I didn't think I'd live long enough to see you blushing," Luke smiled naughtily. Then he shrugged. "I was just curious, that's all."
"We haven't even talked about it, yet," Leia replied with apparent nonchalance, but quite flushed herself. "I guess..." she looked at her fiancé and they maintained a short and fast conversation through their eyes. "At least two," she voiced for the two of them.
Han nodded eagerly.
"Three, most probably," he settled the matter. "But we'll wait a little before having any children. We want to enjoy our married life for some time first!" He took Leia's hand in his and smiled lovingly at her.
Luke nodded to himself, and took a spoonful of his breakfast in silence.
"And when do you intend to get married?" Anakin asked now.
"Why is everybody so eager for us to marry, all of a sudden?" Han asked, unable to hide his embarrassment.
"Because we love to see you blush, buddy," Lando joined in the teasing. "Did you know that colour becomes you?"
"And did you know that black and blue around your eyes becomes you even more?" Han retorted.
Lando chuckled, totally unrepentant, and continued with his breakfast, as Chewie ruffled his friend's hair and did some teasing of his own.
"Do you want me to set your fur on fire?" Han threatened, pointing his fork at the giant Wookie.
Chewie showed Han all his teeth in a feigned innocent smile that triggered everybody's laughter.
"Please, don't start throwing food now. We have an image to maintain," Leia told her family, grabbing her stomach.
"What image?" everybody replied at the same time, setting off their laughter again.
"Oh, well," Anakin commented at last, wiping his tears away. "Nothing like good, healthy laughter to start the day."
"Right," Han smiled happily. He had a bad feeling this morning, but now things looked definitely brighter. It was funny how happy and alive some silly banter with your family could make you feel!
Family. A concept he only began to understand after meeting Luke and Leia. He watched Leia totally enraptured as she finished her breakfast. How beautiful she was! But it wasn't just her beauty that drew him to her. Her strength of character, her resilience, her stubbornness, her spirit... She would fight a hungry wampa with her bare hands to save any of them. And the wampa wouldn't stand a chance.
He admired her, besides loving her. And there weren't many people in the galaxy he truly admired. As a matter of fact, most of them were sitting at that table this very moment.
Life had taught him that the bravest, worthiest people weren't those who ventured into danger headfirst. Those were simply reckless fools. Great deeds didn't impress him anymore.
He admired people who were capable of admitting they were wrong and dared to change their ways. Those were the bravest people. People whose pride meant less to them than Truth.
Lando had been the first, and then... Anakin. The Corellian's eyes went from the first to the second, and a wave of affection filled his heart. It amazed him how easy it had been to forgive. He wasn't a resentful person but as time went by, it was harder for him to see past people's acts. It seemed to him that grown people should be smarter and realize that one's acts had consequences. And some were irreparable.
What Anakin had done went beyond anything Han would ever comprehend. The heartless monster who had chased them implacably for years, the galaxy's biggest mass murderer, was sitting before him right now, a doting father, a loyal and caring friend, more upright and decent than many he would have vouched for only a few hours ago.
He would never thank Luke enough for recovering that apparently hopeless soul to them and the entire galaxy. He hoped that one day, the billions of beings who still distrusted Anakin Skywalker would open their eyes to the Truth that was so plainly obvious for him to see.
Luke. His eyes turned to his soon-to-be brother-in-law. The gentlest, kindest... the best human being he had ever known and was so proud to call friend. No law would bring them closer than they already were. No law would make them more brothers than they already were. Brothers in spirit if not in blood.
"Ahem... Luke," he found himself speaking.
Luke's eyes turned to him, open and loving, as they always were.
"I was wondering..." he began clumsily, "well, we were wondering..." he corrected himself, looking briefly at Leia and blushing as he never had before, "...if you would like to be my best man at our wedding." He cleared his throat sheepishly.
Luke's eyes misted, but he quickly blinked the tears away. He placed his knife and fork on the table and swallowed hard a couple times, before answering in the weakest voice.
"It would be my greatest honour, Han."
The Corellian's face illuminated with joy and love, and the two friends stared at each other, unable to look away.
"Hey, Luke. Will you fly with us this morning?" Wedge interrupted the terribly moving moment, making everybody jump. "Oh, sorry for intruding!" the young man apologized.
"No intrusion," Luke swallowed again, smiling up at his flustered friend. "No, not this time."
"Higher duties, huh?" Vaughan joined in the conversation, in his usual straightforward manner. "It'll do us good. I was beginning to feel a little bit rusty."
"You feel rusty ten minutes after jumping off your X-Wing," a young pilot named Jesse teased him, wrapping an arm around Vaughan's shoulders and shaking him affectionately.
Vaughan straightened his back, proud as a peacock.
"What can I say? I'm an action man," he boasted exaggeratedly, returning the one-armed hug.
"You're a showoff," Wedge ribbed fondly.
"That, too." Vaughan smiled from ear to ear, unashamedly.
Everybody burst out laughing.
"Well, we gotta go," Kashee, another pilot, slapped Vaughan and Wedge's backs warmly when the laughter subsided. "We'll miss you up there," he told Luke wholeheartedly. "And you too, General!" he looked at Anakin, his eyes shining with respect.
"Yeah!" all the squadron agreed as one, all of them crowded around the Skywalker table by now.
"That is very kind of you, thank you," Anakin smiled, genuinely moved.
When the exuberant bunch left, Leia turned to her brother.
"What do you intend to do after breakfast?" she asked him.
"I intend to meditate about a recurrent dream I've been having lately," Luke replied, all too casually.
Leia raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Something we should know about?"
"When I figure it out, you will be the first to know," Luke smiled at her, holding her hand in his and kissing her cheek. "I love you, little sister," he winked at her.
"I love you too, little brother," Leia teased back.
Luke chuckled and stood up.
"Where will you be?" he asked his family.
"The drills will be resumed at 13:00 PM," Anakin replied. "I would like to visit Areen for a little while," the older Jedi shrugged self-consciously.
Luke nodded approvingly and squeezed his father's forearm.
"I would like to train this morning, but since my two masters will be busy, I'll join Han, Lando and Chewie, correlating all data with Intelligence. The more we're looking, the more possibilities we have of finding something."
"Yes," Luke nodded again, emphatically. "Follow your instinct and your intuition," he instructed with a loving smile.
"Do you think I could use the Force to try and guess where are they hiding?" Leia's eyebrows skyrocketed.
"Of course. Just concentrate and reach out with your feelings."
"That's what we all do, Force-sensitive or not," Han waved his hand, dismissing Luke's instructions. "The only problem is that when I concentrate too hard, I fall sleep."
Luke stared at his friend with a compassionate expression.
"You shouldn't abuse your brain like that, Han. It's not used to such draining efforts," he smiled at the Corellian, his eyes bright with mischief.
Han stuck out his tongue at the young Jedi.
Anakin entered the Headquarters' sickbay and headed for the bed where Areen Worzzlek had been lying for the last two days. He stood there, contemplating the still form.
Eventually, as he had done before, he grabbed a chair and sat by the unconscious man's bedside. Thinking. Pondering. Struggling...
"I don't know what I'm doing here," he suddenly found himself speaking. "I guess... I guess that if I was in your place, I wouldn't want to be alone, even if I had no way to know I *was* alone."
His eyes settled on the apparently calm face.
"Did I hurt you personally in any way when I was Darth Vader? Did you think I hadn't really changed and I was deceiving you all? Is that the reason why you never accepted me as the Republic's Vice-President?" he asked, knowing there would be no answer. He shook his head. "I cannot believe you wanted that position for yourself and that was the reason why you turned against your friends. You must have thought you were doing the right thing." He let out a dry laugh. "Believe me. I know how it is. I murdered men, women and children without second thoughts because I believed I was serving a greater good." He snorted, disgusted with himself. "I wanted to save my family from certain death and I lost it all. My family, my dignity, my honour and my soul. And when everything you've ever loved, has died because of you, you're an empty shell that only hatred and anger are strong enough to fill. You revel in the sight of destruction, because that sight is the perfect mirror of what lies inside you."
The Jedi master bowed his head and swallowed hard.
"I was beyond salvation from the first innocent life I took, or so I thought. Until Luke came along," he pronounced his son's name like a holy word. "He reached out to me in a way I had never seen. Unconditionally. He knew who I was, what I was, and he still had faith in me." He bit his lower lip and looked up. "Do you know what it is like to be trusted again, after decades of utter depravation? The knowledge of being needed, of being loved and accepted as who you are, despite everything you have done? My son's love saved me. He found-in-me," he hit his chest repeatedly with his fist, "what everybody else had given up on. Myself included. His love cleansed me, made me believe that I could turn back. I only had to want it," he wiped away the wetness on his face. "He loved all the ugliness inside me first. The ugliness that had mutilated him." He choked on his words. "He loved Vader before loving Anakin. That's why Anakin returned."
Instinctively, Anakin took Areen's hand in his own.
"I hated you for turning against us. For joining those who had planned to destroy what I love the most. My son, my friends, and a system I can finally believe in. But I realized I can't do any less than my Luke. He's the example I live my life by. Both my children are. Leia saw there is goodness in you, and it would be a crime to give up on you. I won't leave you, Areen." He raised his eyes to the unresponsive man. "Maybe you still hate me. Maybe you don't give a damn about my forgiveness. But if deep down you do, it's all yours, Areen. I forgive you with all my heart, as I know everybody does." He smiled sadly. "If it's true what they say, that people lying in a coma can still hear what's being said in their presence, then you must know how many people have come to visit you. Our President, who loves you dearly. My children, my friends, who are still your friends."
The older Jedi's eyes filled with tears once more, and he squeezed the warm hand.
"Yes, we're still your friends, Areen. We want you back. You only have to want to return."
He looked away, an ironical expression on his face.
"Yes, I know. That is the hardest part. To forgive oneself. To believe in your right to be forgiven." He sighed out loud. "I trusted Luke before trusting myself. That is the key. To trust others and rely on their judgement when you're not sure you deserve anything." He squeezed the still hand again. "We're all waiting for you, Areen. You must give us the chance to get to know you better, to learn from you. Your thoughts, your feelings, your self. You have so much to give!"
Silence answered his heartfelt words.
"Also, you must learn to let go, Areen. Let go of your pride and stubbornness. Those feelings aren't healthy. I know from bitter experience," he sighed once more tiredly. "I need you to let go of those feelings so you can forgive me, if I hurt you in any way. Please, Areen! I need your forgiveness to have peace, too."
Silence stretched on for several minutes. Finally, resignedly, Anakin squeezed the man's hand for the last time.
"I have to go now. There are a lot of things that have to be done. Everybody sends their love. They want you to wake up as much as I do." He let go of the pale hand. "I'll be back as soon as I can. If I can't tonight, then first thing in the morning. I promise." He stood up. "Be well, Areen."
The older Jedi put his chair aside, and headed for the door.
"A-An-Anakin," a male voice called weakly.
Anakin froze in his tracks and turned about sharply.
Areen Worzzlek's eyes were half-open and glittery, and looking up at him. Tears collected in his lower eyelids, and finally spilled.
"Areen," Anakin uttered, unable to believe what he was seeing.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, until the infinite pain and remorse in the brown eyes brought Anakin to the man's bedside.
He knew those feelings. They would accompany him for as long as he lived, and he deeply regretted that from now on they would also have to accompany his friend.
Without thinking, he reached out and held the broken man in his arms. Areen returned the embrace weakly, too ashamed to ask for more.
The older Jedi didn't have such compunction and increased the pressure, comforting Areen with everything he had.
"I am sorry. I'm so sorry!" Areen moaned. He had no words. There were no words to express the horror and shame he felt.
"It is all right. It's all right, Areen. Everything's all right now," Anakin soothed as if to a child, petting the man's hair compassionately.
"I wanted to leave. I wanted to leave after the land-mine on Ansion," Areen exploded at last, "but they said they'd kill you all, even if their plan was uncovered because of it. Ylek said he'd kill us all in the Great Hall, and I knew he would."
"Yes, I know he would be more than capable of doing it," Anakin nodded. "He and the others would take our places after an unfortunate accident, an inexplicable droid malfunction or an unnamed terrorist attack had disposed of us. The Republic would go on, without those they considered evil and unworthy, or simple sycophants."
Areen nodded against Anakin's shoulder.
"When the bomb in the Falcon failed, Ylek lost it. Until then, some considered killing you one by one and others in one go. But after the Falcon, everybody agreed it was time to take drastic measures."
"What about Luke's X-Wing?" Anakin asked.
Areen swallowed hard.
"That one was planned after the ambush on Veltra, but when the Big One was plotted, they forgot about their plan to sabotage your son's ship." Areen moved back and looked at Anakin, fear and apprehension in his eyes. "Is Luke all right?"
Anakin had stiffened and paled like a ghost.
"Yes, he is," Anakin reassured him. "But... what 'Big One', Areen?"
"You don't know?" Areen frowned. "When you said that you knew about Ylek, I thought you had found out about the conspiracy and arrested them all."
"We have arrested eleven people so far, Ylek among them," Anakin explained. "Is he the master mind?"
"One of them. But there are thousands involved," Areen replied. "Their secret base is on Wayland. That's where they've been hiding the Star Destroyers and all the ships they'll use to attack Coruscant."
Anakin's blood ran cold in his veins. An attack was to be expected any time now, but...
"Star Destroyers? What Star Destroyers, Areen? The few remaining ones were dismantled after the war."
"Not all of them. Somehow, Ylek found out that the Emperor had ordened the construction of a final consignment of Destroyers, months before the battle of Endor. They were to be built on Zhar. But the construction of the second Death Star took precedence, so the Star Destroyers weren't ready on time."
Anakin let out a dry smile. So, his former master had kept his own secrets from him. It was not surprising. As a matter of fact, it was flattering. It showed that Palpatine had distrusted him long before Vader realized he wasn't to be trusted.
"And they are ready now," he stated unnecessarily.
"They've been ready for weeks," Areen nodded. "The attack will take place in two days. On the nineteenth."
Anakin's face was ashen in a matter of seconds.
"Areen, today is nineteenth. You've been in a coma for two days."
"What?!" Areen exclaimed, in shock.
Anakin tried to keep calm and think rationally, but every alarm was going off in his head... Every alarm and something else. Something else he couldn't pinpoint...
"W-what time are they going to attack?" he cursed his sudden nervousness. He had to get a grip. He had never feared going into battle.
Areen seemed totally knocked out by Anakin's revelation, but he met the Jedi's eyes and regained his composure.
"If they haven't changed their plans, it was scheduled for noon," he replied. "What time is it now?"
Anakin's eyes had closed in a gesture that said it all. He quickly opened them again, fierce determination hardening his features.
"Hopefully, not too late," he muttered, jumping to his feet. "You stay here and let the doctors examine you!" He dashed for the doors.
"But there's also...!" Areen cried out after the already closed doors.
TO BE CONTINUED...