So sorry this has taken such a long time to update. I had to write to the end and make sure it all fit together. The bad news: I'm going to leave you on cliff-hanger. The good news: I'll post the next chapter sooner. We are almost to the end of this story. Thanks for hanging out with it. I never expected it to get this long and out of hand, but here we are. Thanks for all the feedback! Enjoy! -T.

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Luke brought the speeder to a halt just past the mouth of the tunnel. Roughly twenty meters behind them, he could sense the approach of three troopers, on foot.

"Han?" he whispered, his eyes locked on the figures of Vader and the Emperor up ahead. "You're going to pilot."

"What are you talking about, kid?" Solo's gaze was also fixed on the scene in front of him, his tone nervous.

"I'm going to create a diversion," Luke murmured, keeping his voice deliberately calm as he unlatched his restraints. "When I do, I want you to throw this thing into reverse and drive like hell back down that tunnel."

"What?" Leia interrupted. Luke could feel her eyes boring into the back of his skull. "What about you?"

He swallowed, pushing back his fear and the pulsing foreboding of seeing the Emperor slowly advancing on them. "You need to do this. I don't intend to go down without a fight. But I need you both safely away."

"What about you?" Leia demanded again. "We can't just let you - "

"I'm going out there," Luke cut in, hearing the strain in his own voice as he spoke. "Whether you choose to do something with the distraction I make is up to you." He turned and locked eyes with her - seeing the fierce loyalty smoldering in her brown eyes. "But if you don't, we all die."

Leia shut her mouth against reminding him of the last time Luke had created a diversion so she and Han could escape, to which Luke was thankful. He needed to focus. Her gaze did not flinch from his.

A hand closed around his on the throttle. He glanced back sharply to see the understanding in the Correllian's eyes. "We've got this, kid."

Luke nodded back, grateful he didn't have to argue with Han. "Be careful," he whispered, touching the button that activated the hatch.

The door to the speeder lifted open. He stood, his hands visible, slapping the hatch door shut behind him. It wasn't that he thought no one could see the other passengers still inside, but he intended to call the attention away from them.

"I'm unarmed," he announced out loud as a cool, early-morning breeze stirred his hair, drying the cold sweat that stood out on his forehead. He set forward, his gaze locked on Vader and the Emperor, who had stopped walking toward him. They were standing in the middle of the street, a wide space behind them, two even rows of armed stormtroopers standing back seven meters or so, their collective aim trained on him. He took another step forward, then another, and another. The silence was heavy, the piercing gaze of the Emperor tracking him as he approached. Luke forced himself to meet that gaze, unflinching, centering Palpatine's greedy focus on him alone.

Darth Vader's respirator was a steady metronome for his footfalls, the sound of his boots striking the duracrete, bringing him closer to his captors. Vader was wearing two lightsabers on his belt, Luke realized with a start - his own and Luke's.

What did that mean? Did he intend for Luke to use the lightsaber? Against whom?

"Who are your friends, Jedi?" The Emperor spoke, his voice a harsh rasp, grating on Luke's ears. Luke stopped a mere ten feet from the two Sith lords, forced his attention back to that putrid gaze, the wrinkled, rotting flesh hidden under the cowl of his robe. The boogy-man tales he'd heard of Palpatine as a child scarcely compared to the terrifying feeling the Sith Lord's presence created in the Force, like an undertow of brackish water, threatening to pull him into the torrent.

Luke's mental shields were wrapped tightly around his intent, his own sense in the Force spread out like floodwaters, filtering through every space, aware of every mind present. Yoda had taught him once how to do this. It was sort of a hypothetical training exercise that Luke had failed, quite miserably the one time he'd tried it.

But he was stronger now. His grasp on the Force was ten-fold what it had been on Dagobah. He knew it. And besides, this was his only option.

He held the Emperor's gaze, muscles taut, ready to spring. Ready, he sent to Han and Leia silently. The swoops had pulled around so they were no longer guarding the tunnel. It would be their mistake, Luke thought grimly.

"Your Highness," he forced out through stiff lips.

Through Palpatine's satiated chuckle, the old man relishing for a moment in the capture of his quarry, Luke snapped.

His hand snatched out and called his saber to him from Vader's belt. The Force was a wall of power pushing outwards behind the speeder and to the rows of troops standing parade-ready behind the Emperor, momentarily staying the firepower of all fifty-odd soldiers and their weapons.

Go! he thought wildly, as he launched himself at Vader and the Emperor, the blue blade springing to life. Distantly, he heard the sound of the speeder squealing away, the blaster fire from the troopers behind them, absorbing harmlessly against the Force shield Luke had created.

Vader met his oncoming lightsaber with bone-jarring strength, throwing Luke back several steps. Luke swung two-handed against the red saber, his mind split between the Force shield and holding back his opponent. A heavy mental pressure began to press down on him, bordering on pain, making him physically stagger against its weight, struggling to hold the shield just a little bit longer, until -

Hot pain suddenly sliced through him, throwing him violently against the pavement in a blur of actinic light. Luke let out an agonized gasp, lightsaber flying from his grip, his mental hold on the Force shattered. In the distance, he could hear the continued blaster fire; the sound of the swoops taking off in pursuit. Did that mean Han and Leia had gotten away? He didn't have the ability to wonder, as the next burst of blinding lightning shot out from the Emperor's fingertips, driving for ground, drilling Luke to the duracrete in another burst of hot agony.

"You little fool," the despot crackled, all traces of amusement gone from his voice, spindly hands still poised for another attack. "If this is the game you want to play, I can certainly accommodate."

Luke was trying to heave a gasp of seared air around the biting metal tang of blood in his mouth, his mind and body shocked to stillness, struggling to force his eyes to open, to see Palpatine approaching. He'd never even heard of such a use of the Force, had no knowledge how to counter it.

"It appears your son has yet to learn his manners, lord Vader," the Sith Lord sneered, standing over Luke now, peering down in feigned pity, a nauseating, dark shadow. "Though I will admit that little display was quite impressive. It shows me I was right about Vader's son. He truly is powerful."

The Emperor crouched down to Luke in an almost friendly manner. Luke scrambled to sit up, to get himself as far away from the old man as possible. Palpatine's hand shot out, seizing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him back toward him with surprising strength. Luke could see the wizened, rotting flesh, the eyes glowing ferociously in the cowl, could smell the stench of death. "But I shall enjoy teaching you a little respect, boy."

Luke was still trying to heave a full breath of air in his lungs, commanding himself to meet the despot's gaze, pushing away the pain still washing over him in waves, his mind fumbling for his lightsaber lying on the ground two meters behind him. Han and Leia need to get away. He needed to continue to provide a distraction, somehow keep Palpatine focused on him until they were safely gone.

"I'm a slow learner," he ground out, his right hand snatching out for the lightsaber that was suddenly arcing toward him. The blade sliced the air just past Palpatine's face, the old man jerking barely out of the way, rage in his eyes.

The lightning struck Luke again, fire coursing through his body, a black wall of unconsciousness threatening to sweep him into the void. Luke locked icy fingers around the lightsaber hilt - determined - even as he doubled over with an agonized cry, his vision whiting out. The lightning did not abate. Somehow, in the haze of pain, he managed to roll, lifting the saber, blue plasma blade coming to life in front of him to absorb some - most - of the electricity. His arm shuddered with the force of the current, which kept coming, the Emperor's gaze a malicious sneer lit garishly in blue fire. Luke pushed up to his knees with his left hand, stumbled to his feet, backstepping, gripping his saber two-handed to avoid having it ripped from his fingers again. His legs were struggling to hold him up. Luke gritted his teeth against the assault, forced himself to stay upright. If he went down now, he was a dead man, and Han and Leia would be at Palpatine's mercy.

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A diversion.

Cold dread gripped Han's insides as Luke muttered his intention to make a last-ditch effort. Only the kid could be this stupid. But what choice did he have at this point? Go with another of Luke's foolhardy plans or surrender. He chose the former.

As Luke ducked out of the speeder, the hatch closing behind him, Han slid slowly into the pilot's seat, his eyes locked on the scene ahead of him. "I don't know what kind of distraction the kid has in mind that won't turn us all into Bantha meat," he muttered.

Leia was silent, watching. Solo swallowed and eyed the kid's deliberate march toward the Emperor and Vader, his eyes bugging for some sort of signal.

There was no way they were getting out of this alive.

Palpatine was speaking to Luke now, something in his manner making Solo's skin crawl. Suddenly, Luke's hand snatched out - what was the kid doing? - and Leia's voice was shouting "Go - go!"

Solo slammed the speeder into reverse to the sound of blaster fire. In his peripheral vision he caught the brilliant flash of red and blue - the kid got ahold of a lightsaber? - and he gunned it hard to the tunnel.

Fresh blackness enveloped the speeder again. This time Han jerked the steering to the first sublevel. He knew this level well from his early smuggling missions for Masz, knew there were regular passages to the surface, provided they weren't blocked by Imps.

Predictably enough, two sets of swoops, their running lights preceding them in a yellow cone of light, swept in behind them.

"Leia?" Han called. "Can you reach the guns?"

The princess threw herself forward between the seats as Han pulled on the throttle again. She got a swoop in her sights, and fired.

There was a brilliant flash behind them, lighting up the dark. "You got one!" He yelped in surprise. What other things could this woman do?

"Don't sound so surprised," she shot back, getting off another burst of fire.

"Just keep them off our backs for a few more minutes," Han hollered, an idea blooming pleasantly through his mind. "I think there's something we can do for Luke."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Leia muttered, pumping firepower into yet another speeder.

"We have charges in that survival pack, top compartment." He was weaving through a collection of austere, stone industrial buildings, gesturing with a free hand.

"Why didn't you mention that before?"

"Didn't think about it before. Here," he took the guns. "I'll shoot, you dig."

There was an exit ramp just ahead, which would put him just about where they needed to be: one street over and five city blocks down.

"I count five of them," Leia announced, her voice muffled from the pack. "Does that sound right?"

"Perfect." They shot out of the tunnel into daylight, clear skies - no troopers in sight, and he began gunning for the empty skylanes.

"Are you trying to make yourself a sitting target out in the open?" Leia hollered angrily. "What are you doing?!"

"Get the charges ready, sweetheart," Han ordered, ignoring her. "We need two for our first pass."

Realization was beginning to dawn on her, silencing her for a moment. "You probably will only get one shot at this."

"Okay, then we drop them all."

Han fired the rear guns once more at the swoops to make them keep their heads down, then they rounded on the street the Emperor and his gang had blockaded. Windows open, the wind rushed through in a roar. "Ready?" Solo shouted. "Two on each end."

He accelerated to the level of the skylane, approaching the blockade.

Down below, the Imps seemed slow to react, not expecting their escaped quarry to return overhead like this.

"Now!" Solo shouted. Leia lobbed both charges from the open viewport. They swooped overhead, past where Vader, the Emperor, and Luke were still gathered - white light and blue lightsaber colliding at the center with a strange, menacing arc. Laser fire from the garrison they were flying over shot out, flashes of green light in the gray morning.

"Now!" Solo shouted again, and Leia dropped the remaining charges.

Behind them, orange fire bloomed in a terrific explosion, the sonic boom following moments later, rattling the speeder. Han let out a celebratory whoop, as he circled around, saw they'd scored a hit. The even lines of troops on either end of the street were a shambles, smoke and flames shooting up to the sky.

"Now what?" Leia demanded behind him, peering down to see the destruction they'd caused. "How do we get to Luke?"

Solo glanced down at the trio in the center of the explosions, his mind working overtime. The Emperor, Vader and Luke still stood in a rough triangle, engaged in some sort of standoff, apparently unaffected by the explosions, Luke's lightsaber glowing ethereal blue in the gray pre-dawn light. Again, Han's skin crawled at the sight of Palpatine, even from this distance. It looked like Luke was holding his own...maybe. It was hard to tell. "I think we - "

He didn't get to finish that thought. Suddenly, the viewport erupted in a Bang!, an ear-popping explosion, acrid black smoke barrelling through the speeder's cockpit.

Solo struggled to draw a breath around the noise and the smoke to shout something to Leia. Instead his lungs erupted in a fit of coughing. He gripped the joystick, pulling up as hard as he could. But they were going down - at a frightening rate of acceleration - and he braced for impact, though he could not see a thing, shouting something back to Leia before they hit. The speeder bounced twice along the ground and flipped.

It was the last thing he knew before the darkness took him.

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It was in a haze of faltering concentration, his vision burning with the electric sparks of the Force lightning, muscles sluggish from the Emperor's attack, that Luke realized peripherally the speeder had returned and was somehow wreaking havoc overhead.

"It would seem your friends have an early death wish, boy," the Emperor sneered, rocketing another burst of blue-white lightning toward Luke.

Luke caught most of the blast with his blade, throwing up a weak Force shield to guard against the arcing white tendrils that curled past his defenses. It wasn't enough. The shock jolted through him, sharp pain surging through his head and arms.

Do not drop the saber, he ordered himself sternly, backstepping again, willing all his strength into his hands, curled around the grip of the lightsaber was his lifeline. If it was torn from his grip, he did not think he had the strength to call it back.

Twin thunderclaps suddenly made him stagger back, losing his footing, the ground erupting in a strange, rolling wave, his ears singing. The Emperor's lightning attack came to a momentary halt, Luke stumbling further back as the onslaught abated, struggling to keep his feet under him, putting as much distance between himself and the Emperor as this distraction would allow, dimly aware of the chaos that had erupted from the lines of stormtroopers, white-armored bodies scattered across the ground, as if they were toy soldiers thrown by a small child; of the glass from the surrounding buildings, raining down around his head like crystal shards, catching the fires of the explosions in a prism, casting an array of color outward.

Han must have dropped charges? Luke wondered foggily, backing further away from Palpatine, seeing the puerile rage spread across the old man's face - rage that was, momentarily, not directed at Luke.

Then Luke heard it: the unmistakable sound of anti-aircraft fire, behind him. He knew, in an instant, they were going to shoot the speeder down. He spun, fumbling with the Force, but felt sluggish, all his muscles frozen in place from the Emperor's attack.

"No!" he blurted as the short-range ground missile nicked past the speeder. For a moment, Luke thought it had missed by a hair's-breadth, but no, the speeder took a hit, plummeting downward to the ground just past the broken line of fallen stormtroopers, bouncing along the ground in a shower of orange sparks, cartwheeling twice before skidding to a halt upright, black smoke barrelling from the engine compartment.

"No!" Luke cried again, setting forward, Vader and the Emperor forgotten, the bitter taste of burning metal in his throat, his senses stretching out in bottomless dread to ascertain if Han and Leia were still alive...

"Your friends are dead, boy," Palpatine's voice came up behind Luke only a moment before the Force sang a warning and Luke spun, saber en garde, ready to deflect another lightning attack.

Only it didn't come. The Emperor simply stood there, hands dropped to his side, apparently defenseless. And he was smiling at Luke, satiated in his victory, knowing his words would hurt Luke far more than any physical pain he could inflict. "They are dead," he repeated slowly, voice dripping with self-satisfied glee. "Your efforts to protect them were in vain."

It was the smile that goaded Luke, who could not detect any signs of life from the burning speeder. His chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe. His mind fumbled with the Force, splitting his attention between checking on his friends' safety and reading the intent of the crooked, cowled old man leaning on his cane, apparently harmless.

Were they really dead? He didn't know. Like a rising tide welling, black anger swept through Luke. He was surprised at how easy it was, at the rush of self-satisfied energy it gave him, fueling his limbs with new strength, clearing his head of the numbing sluggishness with which he had been moving. If Han and Leia were dead, he would not let it be for naught. Not on his watch. Not while Luke held a lightsaber not ten feet from the grinning corpse-like face of the ruler of the galaxy.

Not while he could exact his revenge. Or at least die trying.

With a rage-fueled roar, pouring all his grief and anger of the last months - no, the last year - of his entire lifetime - Luke attacked Palpatine.

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