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Luke attacked, launching himself with all his strength toward Palpatine, spinning the saber in a blur that would have decapitated the ruler had not a searing red lightsaber sliced down in front of his vision, throwing Luke back a full step.
Palpatine's gloating cackle rang out, as Vader's bulk filled Luke's vision, crimson saber pushing Luke back in short, swift strokes.
Luke cried out in frustration, throwing himself into a backflip to get clear of the tight little circle in which Vader preferred to fight, using his tremendous bulk to muscle Luke out of the way.
"I don't want to fight you," Luke ground out, slapping the next blow aside, anger still singing in his ears. "And if you don't want to help me - fine - just get out of my way!"
"You cannot help your friends," Vader rumbled, batting aside two more of Luke's quick parries. "And I suggest, for your sake, that you stop letting them distract you."
Luke's eyes narrowed. They were edging toward the line of exploded speeders, the dead and injured troops, their weapons scattered on the ground. His step almost faltered as a small light bloomed in his mind. He recognized it immediately Leia! She was still alive? And Han? He couldn't split his attention enough to tell.
Instead, Luke went back to the idea of creating a diversion. If he could somehow just keep the attention focused on him enough to…
"Why?" he snapped in response to Vader, a moment of insight giving him fuel for his next barb, guaranteed to anger the dark lord. "Are you jealous of the attention? Because I'm loyal to them and not to you?"
A rage-filled roar told Luke he'd scored a hit. The Jedi stumbled backward several steps under a new onslaught of blows, his arms shuddering with the force of the strikes.
"You are my son!" Vader bellowed, swinging almost carelessly outward with his saber in an arc that would have taken Luke's head off had he not ducked. If Luke weren't so preoccupied with trying to stay alive, he might have laughed at the irony of what had just occurred; might have even mentioned it to Vader to see the dark lord's reaction.
Instead, he let his own remembered anger fuel him, and give him added strength. Was this what Vader wanted to talk about right here, right now? Fine.
"What does it even mean that I'm your son?" Luke snapped, spinning, lashing out with a jab that nearly swiped off the dark lord's arm. "Does it mean you love me like a father should or that you simply own me?"
Vader didn't answer, barrelling forward full-force, causing Luke to lose ground, backstepping once...twice.
"News flash," Luke ground out, taking no answer to be an answer in itself, parrying twice, and managing another backflip that moved him out of range. He stood about ten feet away - a quick chance to catch his breath before the dark lord bore down on him again. "I don't belong to you."
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Leia came to in a cloud of smoke, her lungs burning for air, sharp pain lancing through her head. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened. And then it flooded back to her: dropping the explosives - getting shot down.
They were in the crashed speeder? How it hadn't blown up was beyond her. Of course, the smoke pouring out of the engine compartment allowed for the distinct possibility that that could still happen.
She had to get out of here.
Her hand felt for the controls, one booted foot kicking outward at the hatch, which unlatched with a strained whine.
Han.
She whispered his name, the sound catching in her throat and exploding in a hacking cough instead. Was Han still here? Was he alive? Her fingers groped in the smoke for the fabric of his sleeve, felt his head lolling against the seat back. Panic bloomed in her gut. "Han," she hissed, shaking him now. "Wake up! Han!"
Biting her lip, she crawled out of the half-open hatch. Were there any stormtroopers left to finish the job of capturing them? It seemed sloppy of them not to investigate the crash scene, especially with the hatch budging open the way it had. Still, she would be careful not to be seen, just in case they didn't realize she was still alive.
She had to get Han out.
She elbowed her way out to the biting duracrete, scored with carbon, sucking in a breath of air that was only half filled with smoke, swallowing back another cough. The speeder blocked her view of Vader and the Emperor, which, she could only hope, blocked their view of her. No stormtroopers in sight. There was a curious silence on the street, expectant, punctuated by voices and a strange humming sound.
Lightsabers?
Was Luke okay?
She pulled her focus back, remembering Luke's snapping admonition to her to utilize the distraction, and elbow-crawled to the front seat. Much of the smoke was dissipating from the open hatch now, which meant she could see Han. The smuggler was unconscious, an open gash on his forehead, blood flowing freely down into his collar.
He was still breathing.
Leia expelled a sigh of relief, her fingers fumbling for the restraints, shaking almost too much to undo the catches. "Han," she whispered again, patting his face. Solo didn't stir.
Getting her feet under her, Leia maneuvered her arms around his ribcage. He was much too heavy for her to actually lift, but perhaps she could drag him out. A thought occurred to her and she reached blindly past his seat to the survival pack, her hand closing on a spherical shape that fit just inside her palm.
Solo's deadweight crashed into her, nearly barrelling her back to the duracrete. Leia faltered, catching her balance against the side of the speeder, managing only barely to not tip completely over, when a voice behind her froze her again in place, tinny and authoritative.
"Freeze!"
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Luke allowed himself to be driven back. Vader had no answers to Luke's questions - only anger - and so responded with the only tool he had: brute force.
Anger. Luke had had a lot of it in recent months. He had tried to bottle it up, keep it in, push it down, pretend it didn't exist. And in spite of all his effort - his attempt to be Jedi-like and emotionless - the anger and rage inside of him twisted and mocked him, tightening around his heart, poisoning all his emotions.
Was this the only trait Luke had inherited from his father? Was this the point of familial resemblance - unadulterated anger?
Was this really the legacy he wanted to carry on?
Perhaps it was the calm, determined presence of Leia in the back of his mind, steadying in her level-headedness. Perhaps it was remembering all the times Han had tried to draw him out of himself, or the times Solo and Chewie had stuck their necks out for him.
Whatever it was, Luke knew suddenly that this was a family trait he wanted to banish. Vader's legacy did not have to be Luke's legacy. He did not have to follow in his father's footsteps.
Luke spun momentarily out of the circle of Vader's reach, took a steadying breath, dispersing that tight knot of fear and anger to the sky, which was growing pink with the coming dawn, flinging it to the wind, scattering the way the transparisteel shards had shattered across the ground, light entering his aching soul, a rainbow of color cast through a prism.
Like a fist slowly unclenching, allowing things to fall, wondering in a small part of his mind why the thought of this had felt so difficult - impossible, really - for so long, Luke simply let the anger...go.
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Leia didn't have to look to know that a stormtrooper was behind her, his blaster carbine pointed at her head.
"Turn around," the voice barked. "With your hands up!"
Han's blaster was in its holster, still wedged awkwardly between his leg and the seat. Her fingers were only inches from the grip, out of sight of the trooper, she knew.
Still, she didn't think she could free the weapon, twist away under Han's deadweight, and fire a well-aimed shot in the time it would take the nervous soldier to simply pull the trigger.
"I'm…" she worked to free her hand, trying not to fall backward in her crouched position. "Don't shoot. He's hurt."
"Stand up," snapped the trooper, coming around to the side of Leia's peripheral vision.
Leia kept her voice deliberately calm. "I'm trying to," she replied through gritted teeth. Her knee was effectively pinned under Han's shoulder. "My friend is hurt. He's too heavy, and I can't - "
"I will manage things from here, soldier," came a new voice behind her. The voice was addressing the stormtrooper, its timbre sending Leia's hair standing on end, an icy chill sweeping through her. She knew that voice - recognized it from the handful of times she'd been present at court, all finery and pompous boot-licking, or the times it had addressed the senate, while her hands curled in anger in fistfuls of her white senatorial gown, frustration that the sham of a governing body could do nothing but let it pontificate, for hours if it felt like it.
She twisted, the chill numbing her arms and legs and freezing her in place. She had never stood this close to the man - her father had seen to that, protective in a way that sometimes angered her. But now she could see, under the heavy black cowl, the inhuman yellow glow of his eyes, the folds of distorted flesh that made him appear more monster than human being.
"Princess Leia Organa," Palpatine said pleasantly, as though they were stood in a court reception, the clink of crystal wine glasses and the background music from a Coruscanti light-keyboard providing the soundtrack for their very cordial meeting, instead of her, crouched below him in a burning speeder, the weight of an injured, unconscious man pinning her awkwardly to the ground, while her friend battled for his life against Vader, only meters away, the electric crash of their lightsabers jarring her bones. "What a pleasant surprise."
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Luke stumbled over the foot of a fallen stormtrooper, caught his balance quickly enough to parry Vader's next swing. He backstepped over two more dead troopers before a movement caught his eye.
The Emperor was walking toward the crashed speeder.
A fresh chill swept through Luke, distracting him enough that Vader got in a glancing blow, searing the flesh along his right thigh in a burning line of pain.
Luke cried out, the blow enough of a distraction that it foiled his planned jump and turned it into a backwards stumble. He gritted his teeth against the fire burning there, scrambling away from Vader's oncoming blade, poised now under his chin.
"Do you always do everything he tells you?" Luke hissed, eyeing the point of the crimson blade, mere inches from his face, locking gazes with the dark mask.
"You do not know him as I do," Vader rumbled, barely-contained anger in his voice. "I must obey him."
Luke swallowed. An injured Han and Leia were both clearly in Palpatine's sights now. The knowledge that Luke would do anything - anything - to keep his friends safe from the Emperor solidified in his gut, a stone weighing him down. This was his last resort.
"What if we make a deal?" Luke whispered, knowing the dark lord would be able to hear him and Palpatine, from that distance, would not.
"What sort of a deal?" Vader growled, the crimson lightsaber still inches from Luke's face.
Luke's gaze met the blank mask. Just as he'd released his anger into the wind, he let go of the tightly-locked shields around the bond he'd had with Vader, allowing the conduit between father and son to flow freely, communication and knowledge passing easily from one to another. He released the layers of defenses he'd built up in the past months, letting everything fall, relinquishing control.
For Han and Leia.
Let them go, he sent to Vader, very sure of his decision now that he had made it. And I will join you to destroy Palpatine.
He paused, for effect, aware he had never addressed Darth Vader with this word before.
Father.
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oooooooooooooooooooo
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"What do you want?" Leia hissed, tucking away the fear that threatened to edge in, drawing herself up to her full height as best she could sitting pinned by Han's weight. Perhaps if she kept the Emperor talking, Luke would have a chance out there.
The object in her hand felt cold and heavy, out of sight behind Solo.
"It unfortunate you and your friend here were foolish enough to involve yourselves in Skywalker's cause," the Emperor tsked, his gaping smile, rotting teeth and folds of flesh giving him the appearance of a demented clown. "How unfortunate that you will have to die on his behalf."
Leia set her teeth. Was he threatening her? Not that was she was afraid to die - especially not for Luke's sake - but the ruler had another thing coming if he thought taking her out would be that easy -
"Palpatine!" It was Luke's voice, out of her range of vision, not too far distant. Leia realized the relentless crash of the lightsabers had stopped. She went cold. She knew this voice of Luke's: cocky, reckless, and agitated. This was the Luke who sometimes scared her; who disregarded all apparent danger and drove on instinct; who dared fate to take its best shot at him. She had seen this side of Luke only twice: Once, right before deciding to join the pilots to fly against the Death Star, and once when she, Luke, and Han had been cornered by a pair of bounty hunters at Tal Kano.
It was the voice of Luke about to do something very stupid.
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Something in Vader changed the moment Luke spoke those words through their bond. Something melted away, became decisive. It was noticeable in the dark lord's body language, the subtle shift from a reactive, defensive posture to...surprise.
Let them go and I will join you. I will help you destroy Palpatine, Luke had sent. Now he could see the black helmet dip in a barely perceptible nod.
Proposal accepted.
Luke pushed to his feet, freshly energized, backing more deliberately toward the speeder, parrying Vader's blows - a cover for inching closer and closer to the Emperor.
Palpatine stood at the open hatch of the speeder. Was he speaking? With whom?
Luke reached out with the Force, scanning the two occupants. Han's sense was muted, and Leia's was a churn of anger, fear and determination.
Now Luke was aware that Palpatine had stopped talking and was turned, focusing again on Luke and Vader. Could Luke draw him a little further from Han and Leia?
Perhaps if he goaded him enough, he could.
Don't be foolish, son, came the rebuke in the center of his head. Luke glanced up sharply, realizing he'd forgotten the open bond he'd formed with Vader. He bit back his first instinct, which was to slam his mental shields down and tell Vader to go jump in a lake.
Their lives are forfeit. Don't throw this opportunity away -
"Palpatine," Luke called out loud, glaring defiantly up at Vader's mask, at the implication that Han and Leia were expendable to the greater cause.
The Emperor's sharp eyes snapped back to Luke. Luke felt a thrill of fear at the possible repercussions of his next move, but he plowed on, his sights on a singular goal. "Do you always send Vader to do your dirty work like this?"
He parried a set of blows from Vader, aware that Palpatine had taken two dangerous steps around the speeder toward Luke, the Force humming anticipation in the air like an electric current.
"I admit I never quite expected this level of insolence from the boy, Vader," Palpatine growled to his henchman, his voice dangerously angry. "A problem we must rectify swiftly."
Luke ignored the warning and plowed on, his voice carrying across the half-street distance between them. "Why is it you use Vader as your attack dog? Because you don't like getting your own hands dirty or because you can't actually - "
The response was swift and violent. An invisible wall slammed into Luke, tremendous pressure erupting into pain, his head feeling like it might explode. Luke staggered, gritting his teeth against the pain, but still plowed forward, his ears ringing, stars sparking in his vision.
"Perhaps I need to educate you on who exactly you are addressing, child," Palpatine's voice cut through the pain to the center of Luke's head. Dimly, Luke could see the ruler still walking toward him, Han and Leia forgotten. Another hammer blow from the Force struck him, and Luke stumbled, dropping to his knees this time.
Now's your chance! He sent to Vader, biting back the agony of the pressure in his skull, the cry of pain that wanted to escape. His lightsaber dropped from his hand, even as he willed his arm to reach for it, to call it back through the Force. Vader did not seem to be moving. "Go!" he gasped out loud, before he collapsed, boneless against the duracrete.
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Solo stirred against Leia's shoulder with a pained groan, just as Palpatine stepped away from the hatch, his attention momentarily diverted.
"Han?" she whispered, easing him carefully to the ground, freeing her shoulder now that he had moved. "Are you okay?"
He grimaced, bringing a hand gingerly to the gash on his forehead. "I've been better."
On the other side of the downed speeder, Luke was still speaking, though Leia could not quite make out the words, nor Palpatine's dangerously quiet response.
Something was about to happen.
"Can you move?" she whispered. "I think Luke's in trouble."
Solo's eyes widened. He attempted to sit up. "Kreth, when is he not in trouble?" he muttered.
Han's words were punctuated by a sudden static pressure in the air, and a thick, breathless silence. Leia froze, her hand immediately going to her temple to rub away the sudden throbbing there. Then Luke's pained voice, a single word escaping him in an agonized cry: "Go!"
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oooooooooooooooooooo
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Vader launched himself toward Palpatine, covering the distance between them in one smooth motion.
Even still, the Emperor was ready, cackling with laughter as the dark lord flew at him, saber raised, arcing in a blur of red light. White lightning spewed from his fingertips to meet the laser sword and throw the Sith lord back with the force of the counterblow.
Vader lost his momentum but retained his feet, pushing forward to strike again. Again, Palpatine sent a warning burst of lightning, most of which the dark lord caught on the blade of his saber.
"You are more foolish than I have given you credit for, my friend," Palpatine chuckled. "You know you are no match for me. I always knew you would turn on me one day. It's a pity you did not realize how expendable you are, that your son is mine. He will take your place at my side and become more powerful than you ever could hope to be."
With a roar of frustration, Vader charged forward and attacked again.
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oooooooooooooooooooo
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Luke crawled. He managed to get his elbows under him, to suck in a lungful of air. His heart was hammering wildly against his ribs, residual pain echoing in his ears, pulsing in his skull. Get up get up get up…
His ears registered the sound of Vader's lightsaber, the dark lord's angry roar. Luke flinched in remembered pain at the burst of lightning Palpatine unleashed.
The Emperor may be right. Vader was no match for him alone.
He forced his eyes open. His lightsaber was on the ground, five feet distant. Vader stood ten feet from there, saber in front of him, catching the lightning against his blade. Palpatine, his face a grotesque grimace lit garishly by blue light, was focused solely on his henchman-turned-traitor.
Taking a deep breath, Luke gathered the Force around him, pushing away the pain radiating through his body, rolling unsteadily to his feet as he called the lightsaber to him.
On your left, He sent through the Force, the deactivated saber in his hand. Three half-limping strides put him at Vader's side. He plunged into the fray, launching toward Palpatine's unprotected right side.
At the last moment, the Emperor gestured, sending a wall of the Force to slam against Luke. The Jedi was prepared this time with a retaliating blow of his own, but still staggering back a step against the force of the strike.
"Foolish boy," Palpatine hissed, flicking his fingers slightly. The lightning abated, but Luke had only a moment's warning before the charred husk of a burned-out swoop sailed past his head, just grazing past his ear.
Vader seized the momentary distraction to move in, slashing low at Palpatine's feet. A burst of Force lightning caught the dark lord full in the chest, spider-like tendrils crawling over the black life-support suit, throwing Vader back.
Luke cut in diagonally, catching the web of lightning against his saber. Palpatine's face glowed angry in the actinic light. "You will pay dearly for this, boy," he hissed. "You'll have the satisfaction of knowing your actions killed your father - "
As if to prove his point, the Emperor lunged toward Vader, three heavy pieces of machinery flying at the dark lord in tandem with another burst of lightning. Luke sprang forward to intercept the lightning, just as one of the chunks of metal caught Vader's helmet with a glancing blow and sent him sprawling, his lightsaber flying from his black gauntlet.
"You'll see the demise of your foolish friends - " Palpatine gestured viciously in the direction of the crashed speeder, as Luke belatedly cried out to Han and Leia.
The speeder, still spewing smoke, crumpled like a wad of wood-pulp paper and was flung aside as if it were nothing. The fear hammering Luke's heart only somewhat abated as he realized through his alarm, that Han and Leia were behind the speeder - not in it - crouched carefully out of sight. Now they were out in the wide-open, staring in shock at what had just happened.
Luke lunged forward before Palpatine could make his next move. If he could just give Vader a chance to catch his breath, regain his feet, and rejoin the fight, they would be able to take him together.
"And you will have the satisfaction of knowing your imprisonment is of your own making," Palpatine added, volleying his attack again at Luke.
The Force lightning intensified. Luke caught most of it on his blade, but it kept coming, stabbing past his defenses.
Father! He snapped into the Force, setting forward anyway. That was the second time he'd called the dark lord that. His jaw was clenched in determination, mentally sloughing off the pain of the attack, though the lightning kept coming.
In the distance, he could see Vader roll to his feet, sluggishly, as though he was wounded. He called for his lightsaber, but the saber was batted away by another object Palpatine sent sailing through the air. Palpatine launched another burst of lightning at the dark lord. Without his saber to deflect the attack, Vader dropped again to the duracrete, thrown backwards by another volley.
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oooooooooooooooooooo
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Leia's heart was in her throat as the speeder was casually tossed back, as though weightless, whistling just over their heads, Palpatine's cackle of laughter grating in her ears. The Emperor launched himself at Luke, a cascade of blinding lightning spewing from his fingertips toward her friend.
Next to her, getting his feet under him, Han swore colorfully. She could see his eyes darting around for a weapon, for cover. She followed his gaze, toward Vader, and a cast-off object not eight feet distant.
Vader's lightsaber.
Palpatine's back was to them now, another burst of lightning thrown outward, at Luke. She could see Luke's face, the grimace of pain, the effort it was taking him to repel the attack, his inability to press forward. She could see Vader, virtually incapacitated on the ground behind Luke. Just when the dark lord attempted to roll to his feet, the Emperor struck out at him, throwing him back again to the ground.
This time the dark lord wasn't moving.
Leia swallowed. She didn't give a damn about Vader, not even if he was going to turn on Palpatine. He got what he deserved. But now Luke was without help. Something told her he would not be able to do this alone.
Her fist tightened on the charge, molded to her palm, the last of the explosives she had dropped when they'd swooped overhead. She couldn't detonate it here or she'd kill them all. But as a diversion…
Her eyes caught movement: Han had been inching toward Vader's discarded lightsaber. His arm reached out, fingers closing around the hilt. He turned slowly, his eyes catching hers.
Another movement caught her eye: in the distance, two stormtroopers - perhaps the only ones left standing - began walking toward them, apparently suspicious of Han's movement.
Perfect: a target.
She straightened, her thumb twitching over the switch of the spherical thermal detonator, silently thanking all those crashball games she'd played as a teenager in the palace courtyard on Alderaan, however unseemly, according to her aunts, it was for a princess to do so. She activated the charge and threw it hard, over their heads, past Luke, Vader, and Palpatine, to where the soldiers were. The detonator landed with an audible clunk against the duracrete pavement. There was a momentary realization on the part of one of the soldiers, an alarmed shout.
But Leia was already catching the lightsaber rolled to her by Han, ducking down to cover her head and ears.
The explosion ripped through the street, a column of orange fire erupting to the sky, the ground rumbling like a seismic event.
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oooooooooooooooooooo
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Luke staggered as the explosion tore through the road, shrapnel flying, the heat from the fireball hot against his face and hands, even at this distance.
He knew this was the best shot he was likely to get. In his peripheral vision, he was aware that Vader, who had been closer to the explosion, still lay inert on the street; that Palpatine had dropped his hands, his offensive against Luke momentarily forgotten, turning as he was now to face Leia, the instigator of the explosion, with an executioner's rage.
"No!" Luke screamed into the vacuum of sound the explosion had left, his ears still sounding a high-pitch tone. No, he could not allow Palpatine to get to Leia.
The princess was half on her feet, her face, covered with grime, determined, ready to end this at all costs. Two arm lengths away from her, Han, his own face bloodied from a gash on his forehead, shouted a warning.
Luke struck Palpatine from behind. The blade missed the Sith lord's head by centimeters, slicing through the heavy black cloak and tearing the hood in two. The Emperor whirled, a clawed white hand glowing with a brilliant purple orb of malevolent energy flung outward. The Force sang a warning. Luke ducked just as the old man suddenly froze, his face twisting into a grimace. Luke did not understand what he was seeing for a moment: a brilliant red flash sparking outward from the center of the Sith Lord's chest. Red, like a lightsaber.
Like Vader's lightsaber. Brandished from behind by Princess Leia Organa.
A scream, utterly inhuman, erupted from the despot's mouth. Then the purple orb of dark side power in his hand exploded.
Luke was prepared - barely. He threw the last of his strength into a Force shield around Han, Leia, and himself, felt himself falling, wave after wave of Darkside energy washing over him, pummeling his mental shields, threatening him again with unconsciousness. But Luke held on against the bombardment, against the wash of purple-white light assaulting his eyes through tightly-shut lids, and the burning pain coursing over his skin, the roar of sound screaming past him.
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oooooooooooooooooooooo
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When finally, the storm subsided in a whoosh of vacuum, the silence impossible, he forced his eyes open, tried to roll to his knees, and realized he simply couldn't.
"Han, Leia?" he gasped, sagging back down to the duracrete in a cold sweat, pushing back the pain alighting through his entire body, straining to see, to get a sense in the Force if they were okay…
"Right here, kid," a voice croaked in the distance.
The air was acid tang and smoke. Luke coughed, pushing to his elbows this time, forcing his eyes to refocus.
There was a massive crater where the Emperor had stood. Behind that, in a cone-shape of duracrete that remained unscathed, crouched his friends where they had been thrown back by the blast, clinging to each other for support as they struggled to gain their feet.
"Are you both okay?"
Leia raised her eyebrows at him, nodded without speaking as she stumbled forward. "Are you?"
He nodded unconvincingly, attempting again to get his feet under him. "Thanks to you."
She approached the crater cautiously, nudging the edge with the toe of her boot, ignoring his last comment. She still carried too much guilt to be pleased with herself for her part in Palpatine's demise. Or perhaps she was, like him, still in shock at what had happened. "He's definitely dead."
Luke stood carefully, steadying himself with the Force before his eyes went to the last place he'd seen Vader go down. The dark lord was still lying where he'd fallen, apparently lifeless.
"We need to get out of here before reinforcements arrive," Han spoke up behind him, his voice stronger this time.
Luke took several faltering steps toward Vader, as though Solo had not spoken, using all his available strength not to stumble.
"What reinforcements?" Leia pointed out quietly, her voice shaking with reaction now, adrenaline evaporating like the mists in the Yavin jungles. "Everyone is dead."
Now Luke glanced around at the carnage of the street, at the smoke still billowing upward in gray plumes, the scattered slag of dead stormtroopers and destroyed vehicles. And, of course, the massive crater where Palpatine had once stood, a blackened hole in the road.
He reached Vader's side, fully expecting to find the dark lord dead as well. The suit appeared to be malfunctioning, two small lights fritzing in and out on the chest plate. The mechanical breathing was working, then paused, then started again.
Utterly conflicted, Luke knelt next to Vader and reached tentatively for the black-gloved hand, his mind diving through the Force, fumbling for the torn mental bond between them.
Vader was...not dead. Unconscious - perhaps actively dying - but not dead.
Never leave an enemy at your back.
He held the black leather-clad hand for a long minute, listening reluctantly to the broken rasp of the respirator, the pattern matching his own sporadic gasps for air, realizing with a sinking weight in his gut what he was supposed to do next.
Father or no, Luke should end this right now - plunge the lightsaber into the dark lord's armored suit and kill the last of the Sith lords. It could end the Empire, save untold numbers of lives, give freedom to those suffering under Imperial oppression.
He should do it. His conscience should be clear. Darth Vader had deliberately made Luke's life a living hell for months. He had destroyed Leia's home planet, tortured her on the Death Star, terrorized the Alliance, upended Luke's entire identity, captured him, cut off his hand.
Luke owed him absolutely nothing.
Yoda would want him to do it. It was the ultimate end-purpose of all Luke's Jedi training: to end the reign of the Sith Lords. Blood ties were irrelevant here.
"Luke?" Han's voice behind him made him start, dropping the dark lord's gauntleted hand. The smuggler came up to stand at Vader's feet, face and clothes streaked with soot and blood. "Is he dead?"
Luke turned, his breath short in his lungs, staring up at Solo's knowing expression. Han had been on this journey with him. He knew the conflict, the intractable anger that haunted him.
And yet, even Han's voice sounded almost hopeful. Is he dead?
Luke took another shuddering breath. He couldn't do this. Not for all his anger, all the expectations pinned on him from so many sources. He could not kill his own father.
He glanced down, his hand brushing across the chest plate, at the built-in comlink there. The alarm would sound. Vader's men would come for him.
"Yes," he whispered, glancing back up at Han, knowing his friend could read his lie, knowing they would have to scurry back down the tunnels again ahead of Vader's forces in hot pursuit, all because Luke did not have the stomach to commit patricide.
"He's dead."
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