Chapter VII

"Hey, you awake?"

Luke rolled over to find his sister – stang, it was still so weird to think that he had a sister – kneeling beside his bed and staring at him.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied quietly, propping himself up on one elbow. "Let's keep quiet. Dad's asleep in the next room, and the walls are pretty thin here."

She nodded, obviously not eager to awaken a Sith. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for being so… so…"

"Stuck-up?" he offered. "Arrogant? Full of it?"

"Hey!" She scowled at him, then a slight smile erased the expression. "I'm sorry for acting so haughty. I'm just not used to all this, I guess." She gestured around the bedroom, bare save Luke's bed, a small dresser, and a few model ships suspended from the ceiling. "Or to having family members all the way out here."

"That's okay. I guess I'm still not used to having a princess for a sister."

She reached into the folds of her nightrobe. "I thought you might want to see this."

"See what?" he asked, sliding closer to the edge of the bed for a look.

Leia turned her palm upward to reveal a small flat image. It showed a lovely woman from the shoulders up, a gentle smile on her face, wavy brown hair cascading down her back and deep brown eyes aglow with warmth.

"Who is she?" breathed Luke. "She's beautiful."

"That's my mother," Leia replied. "Our mother now." She offered the image to Luke. "You can hold it if you want."

He took it from her gingerly, as if it were made of glass. "Dad told me Mom was dead."

"Yeah. My dad said she died when I was just a baby." She gave a wistful smile. "But it's odd. Sometimes… I feel like I remember her. I see her smiling, laughing… but she always seems sad, too."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall ever having seen this woman anywhere, even in dreams or fantasies. Nothing registered. His mother was a complete stranger to him.

"I don't remember her at all," he complained.

Leia took the image back from him. "My dad says I look just like her. You know what that means?"

"What?"

"It means you have Darth Vader's looks." She cocked her head to one side, as if imagining Luke in the helmet and trappings of the Dark Lord. "Funny, I never thought he'd have blue eyes…"

"I wish Dad would tell me a little about Mom." Luke folded his arms and rested his chin on them. "Or about Grandma and Grandpa, or why he left me… or us, I guess. He always says 'I'll tell you later.' I don't want to wait; I want to know now!"

"You heard the grownups talking," Leia replied, frowning. "They're wanting you to become a Jedi or something. My guess is that he's waiting for things to calm down."

Luke had heard the discussion, and frankly, it annoyed him that no one was asking him what he wanted. Sure, he'd heard of the Jedi, what kid hadn't? And what kid hadn't fantasized about wielding a lightsaber and knocking enemies down with a single thought? But the more he heard Obi-wan and Yoda insist that he HAD to be trained, that he HAD to become a Jedi, the more he resisted the idea. If they had asked, that would have been one thing…

A weird snap-hiss came from the room next door.

Luke and Leia stared at each other, dead silent. They both recognized that sound – an igniting lightsaber. Then Leia climbed onto the bed, and together they pressed their ears against the wall, intent on whatever was going on in there.

"Put it away, Anakin," came Obi-wan's calm voice. "I did not come in here intending to kill you. There are less suicidal ways of doing that…"

"What do you want now?" snarled Vader in a deadly tone.

"Anakin, what I am about to tell you is not pleasant, and I would not blame you if you hated me for delivering the news. But you must trust me…"

"Spit it out," ordered Vader, "before I change my mind about sparing you."

"Anakin…" A deep intake of breath. "Master Yoda has contacted the resistance against the Empire. Rebel soldiers are on their way as we speak to capture you."

Luke felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Why should I believe you?" Vader hissed. "Is this a plot of yours? Will you have me flee the planet and leave Luke behind for you to train?"

"No, Anakin," Obi-wan replied softly. "I tell you this that you may have the chance to escape. I wronged you once. I won't fail you again."

Silence. Then, finally, Vader asked "Why are you doing this?"

"Because, though I disagree with the path you have chosen, neither can I agree to Master Yoda's plan. He would have Luke separated, not only from you, but from his aunt and uncle. It is his opinion that any emotional attachments are detrimental to a Jedi. But I disagree. On the contrary, it will do far more harm than good to separate Luke from his family now… even if his family includes a former Sith."

Again silence. Leia's eyes were wide. Luke's head spun dizzily with Obi-wan's startling words. They couldn't do this to him! They couldn't take him away from his dad! Not now when he had just found him again! Not now when things finally seemed to be going so right!

/Dad, please trust him/ he pleaded silently. /Please don't let them take you away from me. I just got you back. I can't let you leave again./

At long last, a metallic whoosh cut through the silence as Vader extinguished his saber. "I vowed to kill you, Obi-wan, for what you did to me," he said heavily. "But I see now that I am in your debt. I cannot kill you now."

"You will never be in my debt, Anakin, for I am forever in your debt for what I did to you," Obi-wan replied. "I suggest you take one of the dewbacks to Mos Eisley, for they're harder to track than landspeeders. Charter the first reliable transport off the planet. I will be close behind as soon as possible with Luke."

"Luke comes with me," Vader said fiercely. "I still don't trust you enough to put my son's life in your hands."

Obi-wan's silence suggested he wasn't too pleased with that, but he relented. "I will go wake Luke and tell him to pack…"

Luke banged a fist against the wall. "Don't need to wake me up!" he said loud enough for them to hear. "I can be packed in five minutes!"

Vader seemed neither surprised nor upset that Luke had been eavesdropping. "Take only the bare essentials, Luke. I will meet you at the stables. Obi-wan, inform Owen of what is going on."

"I will."

Luke jumped off the bed and began throwing things into a pack, not paying much attention to what went inside.

"Luke, what are you doing?" Leia asked, still looking stunned at what had just transpired.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Luke shot back, flinging a fistful of undergarments and a model skyhopper into his bag. "I'm going with Dad. My REAL dad this time. I'm not gonna let that Yoda-thing's friends capture him…"

"But the Moffs are after Vader too!" she retorted. "And if the resistance doesn't catch him, THEY will! And even if they don't, you'll still be running for the rest of your life…"

"I'd rather run with my dad than stand and watch while he gets dragged away… and out of my life forever." The bag was now stuffed to bursting, and the sleeve to a wrinkled pair of pajamas still dangled and flopped out as he swung it over his shoulder. "You're lucky, Leia. You've always had a dad, even if he's not your real dad. I've never had that until now. And I'm not gonna give it up." He gave her a dead serious look. "If they were after YOUR dad, you'd do the same, right?"

She frowned, then nodded. "But I've never had a brother until now either. And I don't want to lose him."

Luke hesitated, at a loss for words.

"Here," she said at last, and she handed back the holo of their mother. "You can keep it."

He carefully took the holo from him and tucked it into his pocket. "Thanks," he managed.

She stepped forward and embraced him. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will," he promised.

A wicked crack sliced through the night, and both children froze as an ominous command reached their ears.

"We have the house surrounded! Lord Darth Vader, come out and surrender! You can't hide in there forever!"

Break…

Mothma knelt in the rapidly cooling desert sands and leveled her blaster at the main entrance to the homestead. Their party had by now tightly encircled the Lars' home, cutting off all possible escape routes, and every weapon was trained on the homestead should Vader come out fighting. Of course, she highly doubted that a party of less than thirty would faze the Dark Lord. For now, they would bank on the hope that Vader was still too weakened by his duel with the Emperor to successfully battle her men.

On either side of the Senator, Chewbacca and Zevul kept her covered, their bodies rock-hard with the tension. Han and Fett stood at attention slightly behind, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. All around her, her swiftly assembled strike team waited nervously for some sign that Vader had heard their order, or even cared…

A light flicked on, illuminating a tall cloaked figure in the front doorway.

"AAARGH!" screeched a Zabrak soldier, letting a shot fly. The figure dove to the side as the shot went wide, striking the lintel.

"Watch it!" the man demanded, raising his hands as if to deflect further shots. "You could've killed me!"

"Owen Lars," Mothma informed the man, motioning for the Zabrak to step back, "we know you shelter Lord Vader under your roof. We ask that you turn him over to us. If you refuse to comply, we will enter your home and take him by force, something we do not wish to do… but will if you make it necessary."

"Now just a scorched minute," Owen snapped, taking a few more steps toward her and brushing furiously at his robes as if the blaster shot had tainted them somehow. "What business do you have threatening to barge into my home? I thought only the Empire had that right…"

"We understand that you may harbor sympathies toward the Empire," Mothma replied, "seeing as your brother was once one of its highest leaders. But even you cannot deny that he is responsible for a great deal of evil, and that he must be made to pay for his crimes somehow."

"First of all, ma'am, I have no such sympathies," growled Owen. "Don't love the Empire, I hate it. Second, Vader's not my brother. He's my stepbrother. There's a big difference there. And third, what makes you so special that you can decide who gets punished and who doesn't? Seems to me there's an Empire full of more likely candidates…"

"Owen Lars, do not make this harder than it needs to be," advised Mothma. "Turn over your stepbrother, and we will leave. Refuse one more time, and we will enter and take him."

Owen opened his mouth to retort, but a hand on his shoulder stayed his tongue.

"Lady Mothma," Obi-wan greeted, nodding as he stepped around Owen.

"Obi-wan Kenobi," Mothma replied, much relieved. So another Jedi besides Yoda lived. They had another ally, and a powerful one to boot. "What brings you to Tatooine?"

"That is a long tale," Obi-wan replied. "One that will have to wait for a later date." He swept the horizon with one hand. "I'm afraid, Mothma, that if it is Darth Vader you seek, you are wasting your time. He departed this afternoon without warning."

Mothma's brow furrowed. "Departed?"

"Departed," the Jedi replied. "Perhaps he sensed your coming; perhaps he has sources on this planet. I cannot say. But you will not find him here, I'm afraid."

Zevul swore colorfully in both Basic and Huttese. "We blew hours on a wild mynock chase…"

Chewbacca barked helpfully. Mothma listened carefully, then smiled and addressed Obi-wan confidently.

"A clever ruse, Master Kenobi. But Vader's son is still here. We heard his uncle calling him inside this evening. And I highly doubt that Vader would have left without his son."

Obi-wan's smile faded. He gave Mothma a grim look, then turned and murmured something to Owen. She tried to catch the words, but they were lost to her. What was Obi-wan playing at anyhow? Vader had killed the Jedi and single-handedly destroyed the Order Obi-wan had served for so long. He had no reason to care for the man's welfare. Surely he would try to help them in their goal, not seek to thwart them…

"The garage!" shouted Han, pointing to two dark figures slinking out the back. "They're coming out of the garage!"

The soldiers, distracted by the appearance of Obi-wan, opened fire. The taller of the two figures whirled and raised a bar of brilliant crimson light, shouting for the other to run to the stables. Blaster fire bounced wildly in all directions, most of it plunging into the sands or streaking harmlessly into the sky.

Mothma gritted her teeth and edged closer, continuing to fire upon the Dark Lord. Despite the intense situation they had found themselves in, she could not help but feel a measure of awe at Vader's prowess in battle. He wielded his laser sword with a graceful ease, batting aside blaster bolts as easily as a child snatched snowflakes from the air. The blazing arcs of his saber and the strobing flashes of the soldiers' fire gave his sable armor a terrible red cast, as if he'd been bathed in fire or blood. It was an apt description, she thought.

Slowly, to Mothma's growing horror, the Dark Lord backed away from his attackers, toward the stables where his son was now hauling two dewbacks forward by their reins. They were losing their quarry! This journey would be for nothing!

Vader slammed a hand forward, and half the men started in surprise as their weapons were knocked from their hands. He gave a brutal gesture, and the remaining soldiers lost their blasters as well. Apparently satisfied that the danger had been temporarily eliminated, Vader turned toward the waiting mounts even as the soldiers scrambled to recover their weapons.

"Leaving so soon, Lord Vader?"

Rebels, farmer, Jedi, Sith, and boy alike froze as a diminutive green form shuffled out of the stable, leaning heavily on a cane and giving Vader a calculating look.

Break…

Vader had never crossed blades with Yoda before, not even in a practice duel. When younger, he had once thought himself the Master's equal; now he knew better, knew that even General Grievous would not have been a match for Yoda. Even the Emperor had once informed him that he should count himself lucky that it had been Kenobi and not Yoda who had fought him at Mustafare, for he would never have returned from that contest. He would not delude himself – he had little hope of winning this duel.

But duel he would. For the life of his son lay on the line, and at the moment, he valued Luke more than his own life.

"Hoped to avoid this I did," Yoda said gravely, pulling his robe back to reveal the gleaming hilt of his lightsaber.

"Will you deprive me of all I love?" Vader demanded, raising his saber to point at Yoda like an accusatory finger. "The Jedi Order took everything from me – my mother, my love, my children… and now you will rip Luke from my side again. How cold are you, Master Yoda, to keep kicking a wounded man while he is down?"

Yoda removed his weapon from his belt and ignited it, creating an aura of green light about him. "Accuse me you should not, Vader. Accuse the Order you should not. Only yourself you have to blame for your pain. Warned you were about forming attachments…"

"'A Jedi shall not know discouragement, nor despair, nor love,'" Vader quoted sarcastically. "A Jedi shall not know what it is to be human then, right? A Jedi must be seen as a god, infallible, incapable of making a mistake, instead of as a fellow being with faults and flaws… but with hopes and passions, the same as everyone else?" He raised his weapon in a battle stance. "I refuse to apologize for being a flawed, emotional being, Master Yoda. And I refuse to give up my attachment to my son."

"Then jeopardize his training you will?"

"Who says I wanted to be trained?" Luke shot back, clenching his fists at his sides. "If being a Jedi means I have to lose my dad again, I don't want to be one."

Yoda fixed his gaze upon Luke. "Luke, strong are you in the Force. Yours the chance is to use the Force to do much good, to restore order to the galaxy. But learn to use the Force you must, or consume you it will."

"You will not seduce my son with your promises, old one," snarled Vader, and he struck.

Yoda blocked the move with ease, and he retaliated with a furious cyclone of blows that Vader was hard-pressed to outmaneuver. Despite the Jedi Master's age, he could still fight like a youth, leaping and spinning and constantly surprising his opponent with unexpected maneuvers. Gritting his teeth, Vader parried and sidestepped every blow, but with each strike he lost more ground, edging farther and farther from Luke… and closer and closer to the clutches of Lady Mothma's resistance fighters.

"Master Yoda!" Obi-wan's voice carried over the din of crashing sabers. "Don't do this! You'll only push Luke farther away!"

Yoda did not reply. Instead, he sprang and lunged, and Vader drew back sharply, but not before the Jedi's weapon had slashed through the shoulder armor and scorched his flesh. Hissing in pain, Vader slashed wildly, catching Yoda's arm, but the blade only tasted cloth and air as his opponent nimbly dodged the attack.

"Get 'em, Dad!" screamed Luke. "You can whip him! Do it!"

Luke's encouragements stirred Vader to action. New strength surged through his veins, and in desperation he extended the Force, grasping a heap of junked labor droids just outside the garage and flinging them at Yoda. Luke gave a triumphant whoop.

The metallic hail never touched the Master – he removed one clawed hand from the grip of his saber and pushed to the side, and the projectiles halted in midair before hurtling back at Vader. Caught by surprise, he was unable to block and was mercilessly pummeled by his own assault. A huge power droid slammed into the small of his back, knocking him to his hands and knees…

"DAD!"

The next few seconds were a terrible blur – a flash of emerald light, a ghastly sizzle, a scream of extreme terror and pain, cries of surprise and outrage… a searing pain throughout his entire body that had nothing to do with being struck by machinery…

His worst fears were realized when he drew himself straight. Lying in the sands before him, smoke rising from a deep ugly wound in his chest, was his son.

/No…/

He gripped Luke's shoulder, shaking furiously to rouse him, but there was no response. Luke was as limp as a doll, face expressionless, skin bone-white. He could have easily been asleep were it not for the evil black line where Yoda's saber had bit into the flesh…

His heart burning with agony, he lifted his son, cradling him in his arms. Throwing his head back, he released a wild, anguished, animal cry to the black skies, venting all his pain and fear and love in a scream that seemed to rock the very stars.

/My son… you tried to save me… you would have sacrificed yourself to save me from Yoda…/

The reply was weak, very weak, but there. /You saved me… from the Emperor… I had to do the same…/

/Oh Luke, I would have rather died a thousand deaths at Yoda's hand than let you be hurt./

Those gathered here were in chaos now. Leia was screaming hysterically, Bail and Beru were demanding to know what was going on, Mothma's men were shouting incoherently, someone was arguing quite angrily with the Chandrilan senator…

Owen was at Vader's side, shaking him back to his senses.

"Give him to me," Owen urged, voice rough with worry. "Please, brother, give him to me. We have to take him to the hospital now."

Too dazed to resist, he allowed his stepbrother to take Luke out of his arms. Numbly he got to his feet to follow… and his gaze rested upon Yoda. For the first time in Vader's memory, the Jedi Master looked positively shocked.

"Vader…" he murmured, "intended to hurt Luke I never did…"

"I will never forgive you for this," Vader hissed, letting his rage and pain suffuse every word. "Never."

"Anakin," murmured Obi-wan, taking Vader's arm. "Let's go. We don't have much time. And your son needs you."