A detachment of armed guards meets us on the landing platform, and they escort us to a waiting speeder. I sit with my children as the Coruscant sky grows dark. The tension is palpable; my daughter seems determined to deny any sort of connection that has developed between us. I know she feels it, just as I do; yet she wants no part of me, and is as resolute as ever to rebuff any attempt of mine to reach out to her. What will it take to change her heart? Is there anything I can do to reach her? As for Luke, I know how anxious he is, it is written on his face, in his eyes, and in his body language. During the course of the trip to Coruscant I have learned from him that he suspects it was Mon Mothma who alerted the Nubian authorities, having inadvertently learned from Han Solo what transpired on the Death Star and my subsequent rebirth. I have to wonder at this, and suspect that she has known all along that Darth Vader was in fact the fallen Jedi known as Anakin Skywalker. She was, after all, a prominent senator at the time of my fall, and a close friend of my wife. If this is true, then did she also know the true parentage of my children? Both have played key roles in the Rebel Alliance, particularly my daughter. Did Mothma know all these years that they were the children of the Alliance's greatest enemy? It's a wonder she ever trusted either of them, knowing that they carry my blood in their veins…
We are taken to accommodations where we are to spend the night. Leia informs me that the 'meeting', a euphemism I am certain, is scheduled for first thing in the morning. We speak very little, my children and I; all three of us too absorbed in our own thoughts to attempt conversation. A man approaches us as we approach the entrance of the building, and I recognize him at once: Han Solo. I can feel his surprise as he sees me, and I realize that this is the first time he has seen me without the infamous mask I wore for 2 decades. He watches me approach, his emotions in conflict. He is my son's close friend, I know that they have saved one another's lives countless times...Much like Obi-Wan and I… but he and I have had a long history, and he has every reason to hate me.
"Are you alright?" he asks Leia as he embraces her in greeting.
"Yes, of course," she replies. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Solo shrugs, looking at me, his dark eyes reflecting the animosity I feel churning within him. I meet his stare equally, determined not to let him intimidate me.
"Han, this is our father, Anakin Skywalker," says Luke, sensing the tension between Solo and I and intervening quickly. "Father, I believe you know Han."
I nod. "Yes, indeed I do," I reply. "Solo."
Solo nods at me, his mistrust of me obvious. "So this is the big man without the mask," he smirks. "You're not exactly what I expected," he admits.
I raise an eyebrow. "Oh? And what were you expecting?"
Solo shrugs. "I don't know. Guess I figured you'd be a lot older. Hell you don't look much older than me."
I give him a small smile. "I am forty-four years old," I reply.
"Oh," he replies. The four of us stand in awkward silence for a moment, no one quite knowing what to say.
"Well we should get some sleep," declares Luke at last. "Tomorrow is a big day."
I turn to Luke. "You're right," I tell him. "I could use a decent sleep for a change."
Luke smiles. "I'm sure. Leia, you coming?"
Leia nods. "Yes, we'll be along in a bit. Good night, Luke. Good night…" She stops, not able to bring herself to address me as "father" just yet.
"Good night, Leia," I reply, smiling at her. "Solo."
Solo nods again at me, watching me closely. I sense his barely restrained hatred towards me, and realize that it was probably Luke's presence that prevented him from attacking me outright. He certainly has good cause to hate me.
The room I am assigned is like a piece of heaven compared to the dump I have been living in for the past four weeks. It is small, but it has a comfortable bed with clean linens, and a pillow. There is even a refresher adjoining the room, I discover to my delight.
"What do you think?"
I turn to my son who stands just inside the room.
"It's fantastic," I tell him with a smile. "After the hole, this is like paradise."
Luke smiles. "I'm sure. I took the liberty of putting some things together for you," he says, indicating the closet. I open the door to find fresh clothing, including my Jedi gear.
I turn back to Luke. "Thank you, son," I tell him, grateful and touched by his thoughtfulness.
Luke shrugs. "No problem," he says easily. "There's some stuff in the 'fresher too. Shaving kit, soap, toothbrush…all that stuff."
I nod my understanding. I walk to him and put my hands on his shoulders. "You're a good son, Luke," I tell him, looking down into his eyes that are identical to my own. "I'm not sure I deserve such a son."
Luke frowns. "Don't say that, Father," he declares. "I don't want to hear that. You are not Darth Vader any more. You are a good person, you are the man you were so many years ago. I know that it will be hard for you to get over the past, but you can do it. We can do it together."
I am moved by his words. How did I exist before this compassionate, selfless boy was in my life? He is the best parts of both me and Padmé; good and honorable, loving me completely and believing in me unwaveringly. There must be good in me if I had a part in creating him… I pull him into my embrace, and close my eyes against the tears that well up. "Thank you, son," I tell him softly. "What would I do without you?"
Luke is equally moved, I can feel it through our Force connection. "You never need to worry about that, Father," he tells me. "I'm not leaving your side. Oh, I almost forgot," he says suddenly. He pulls back and reaches inside his Jedi cloak and produces a light saber. "I thought you might like this back."
I look down at the weapon in my son's hand, recognizing it as the one I had made weeks earlier. "Are you sure that is a good idea?" I ask him. "I am a prisoner, after all, Luke; it might not be wise to furnish me with a weapon."
"You are a Jedi," replies Luke firmly. "And a Jedi is incomplete without his light saber. Please, Father," he says, pushing it towards me. "Take it."
I slowly take it from my son's hands. I hold it, reacquainting myself with it once again. "You know," I say with a smile. "Obi-Wan used to tell me that this weapon is your LIFE!" I say in my best imitation of Obi-Wan's refined accent.
Luke laughs. "Did he?"
I nod with a chuckle. "Yes, all the time. I had a bad habit of losing or breaking my lightsabers," I tell him sheepishly. "I can't tell you how many I've made over the years."
"Really? I can't imagine you doing that, Father. That sounds more like something I'd do," he says with a smile.
I laugh. "Well, I was somewhat rebellious in my youth, Luke. Obi-Wan needed the patience of a saint to deal with me." I sigh, thinking back to the last time I saw my former master.
"You and Obi-Wan were very close at one time, weren't you?" he asks, sensing my remorse.
I nod, looking down at the saber in my hands. "Like brothers," I reply softly. "I've been thinking about him a lot lately, actually," I admit. "I was so angry when I saw him last."
"I know," Luke replies quietly.
I turn away from my son and walk away. "There were things I needed to say to him," I explain. "Things I'd waited twenty years to say. I thought that I would feel better getting them off my chest; but instead I feel empty and ashamed."
Luke listens, knowing, I am sure, how I feel without my explanation.
"I deserved your anger, Anakin."
Luke and I turn to see Obi-Wan standing before us.
"Obi-Wan!" I smile.
He smiles back at me. "Hello old friend. It's good to see you looking so well."
"Thanks," I reply. "I…I want to apologize, Obi-Wan. I was angry when we saw one another last. I said some things I shouldn't have."
Obi-Wan shakes his head. "You said what you needed to say, Anakin. I understand that. I too said some things, cruel things, and I am sorry for that."
I hold up my hand. "Don't apologize," I tell him. "You were right. I didn't want to hear it, but everything you said was true. I've had a lot of time to think lately, Obi-Wan, and I've come to realize that nothing that happened was your fault. It was me, my own pride, my own foolish trust in Palpatine. He was the true enemy all along, only I was too blind and stupid to see it."
"We all were, Anakin," Kenobi replies. "He managed to hide his true nature from everyone, including the Jedi Council."
"How is that possible?" asks Luke. "How was it that the Jedi didn't know he was a Sith?"
"The Dark Side of the Force, Luke," Obi-Wan tells him solemnly. "It blinded us, and enabled Palpatine to hide his dark purposes from us for over a decade."
"I can't believe that I once thought he was a good man," I say bitterly. "When I think of what I did, how wrong I was, and the way I helped him in his destructive mission…"
"The past cannot be changed, Anakin," Obi-Wan tells me gently. "You know that. You must let go of the past if you are ever to know peace."
I smile. "You're starting to sound like Qui-G'on, you know," I tell him wryly.
"Oh dear," he replies with a sour face. "I'll never hear the end of it now."
Both Luke and I laugh.
"I've missed you, Obi-Wan," I tell him. "Can you ever forgive me for everything I've done?"
Obi-Wan smiles. "You are my brother, Anakin. Of course I forgive you, and I ask the same of you. I am not exactly innocent either. After all, the way I left you on Mustafar…"
"What happened on Mustafar was terrible, senseless," I tell him. "I will regret what happened there for the rest of my life. But it is my burden to bear, Obi-Wan, not yours."
Obi-Wan smiles. "I'm very proud of you, Anakin," he tells me. "You have finally become the Jedi I always knew you would be. You truly are the Chosen One."
I smile, feeling an odd mixture of pride and serenity fill me. Perhaps Qui-G'on was right; perhaps being the Chosen One means to suffer, to fall, and to eventually know redemption. I only hope that…
"I want to make amends, Obi-Wan," I tell him earnestly. "I want to devote my life to repaying my to the galaxy. But I'm afraid that I won't be given the chance to."
Obi-Wan nods in understanding. "I cannot foresee what will happen, Anakin," he tells me apologetically. "The future is not easy to see, even the immediate future. But have faith, Anakin; you have done the galaxy a great service by destroying the Sith forever, they cannot ignore that. Nor can they ignore the many times you sacrificed your life decades ago in the Clone Wars. Have you forgotten The Hero Without Fear?" he asks with a smile.
"The Hero Without Fear?" repeats Luke. "Is that what they called you, Father?" he asks pride evident in his voice.
"Yes, many called me that," I admit. "Though many others called me far worse."
Obi-Wan and Luke both laugh. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the three of us would be sitting around talking like this. I smile, feeling immense love and gratitude for both of them. We spend the next few hours reminiscing, regaling Luke with many stories from our adventures together, and over the course of the time we spend together, I feel more like my old self than I have in more than twenty years.
It is well into the night before Obi-Wan takes his leave of me. Luke has long since fallen asleep in the upholstered chair in the corner of the room. I take a blanket from the bed and cover up my son, planting a soft kiss on his brow. The simple gesture fills me with emotion, sadness that I was never able to do such a simple thing as tuck in my children when they were children. "Goodnight, Luke," I tell him softly. "Sleep well, my son."
