The Princess forced herself to eat, her worried eyes glued to the dying young man she'd come to love like her own flesh. When she finished, she left for a few minutes to "issue some instructions" and promptly returned, perching herself at her post by Luke's bedside, holding his hand as if her very life depended on it.
The hours passed uneventfully. Dr. Vilk walked in twice to check Luke's vitals. His state kept deteriorating, slowly but inexorably. He would cast Leia a pointed look and then left without a word.
Leia and Auren exchanged short glances, but Leia's warning looks effectively killed any attempt to even negotiate.
The tense wait ended when a single spasm shook Luke's frail body as if he'd received an electric shock. The two women jumped in their seats and stared at him fearing the worst, but unbelievably, the alarms didn't go off.
Right then, a soft beeping sound resounded through the ship.
Leia stiffened and paled, but quickly composing herself, she stood to her feet almost like an automaton. She squeezed Luke's hand hard and let it go with painful reluctance. She trembled visibly.
"What is it?" Auren asked apprehensively, walking up to her.
To her utter confusion, Leia took her by the shoulders and faced her squarely, her dark brown eyes flashing with an earnestness that left the older woman breathless.
"Listen to me, Auren. I need you to do me a favour. A very important, personal favour," she told her, her voice lowering an octave. "I'm asking you as a friend."
"Of course," Auren replied.
Leia took a deep breath.
"I want you to leave this room and return only when I tell you to."
Auren's eyes opened wide.
"Please, trust me," Leia begged her, anticipating her question. "I know what I'm doing. Dr. Vilk also has instructions to check on Luke only when I allow it."
Auren gulped, rooted to the floor by the unfathomable look in Leia's eyes. But the sheer desperation she saw beneath melted all resistance.
"All right," she acquiesced with a nod.
One of the robot nurses entered the room, and Leia took the opportunity to grab Auren's upper arm and drag her gently along out of the room.
Auren looked around once they were outside, immediately noticing that Vilk was nowhere to be seen. Then, Leia's hands took hold of her shoulders again.
"Please," she asked one last time. "Don't go near the infirmary unless I tell you it is safe to do so." The desperation was back in her dark depths.
"I promise," the words were out of Auren's lips before she even thought of them.
Relief showed on Leia's face and a little smile softened her features. She nodded.
"Go now," she said.
Trusting her young friend implicitly, Auren left.
Alone at last, Leia took a moment to gather her thoughts and prepare herself for one of the hardest, if not the hardest confrontation she would ever have. It was imperative that she held her ground and didn't give an inch. She was going to face a formidable enemy and the only thing she could count on was that anything was to be expected.
That's why she had a small security squadron at the ready, just in case.
With long and fast strides, she made it to the hangar deck where a young lieutenant in his late twenties was waiting for her.
"We detected an Imperial shuttle heading straight for our coordinates, your highness," he reported.
Leia nodded solemnly.
"On my responsibility, prepare to receive the shuttle aboard, lieutenant," she ordered. "I will deal with the passengers myself. Now, have all decks cleared from here to the infirmary."
It took a few disconcerted seconds for the young man to take in the orders he was receiving. He nodded and left to carry them out.
Leia knotted her fists at her sides and stood firm in the middle of the deck, waiting for the shuttle she could somehow feel getting closer and closer. She closed her eyes and started to breathe slow and easy, willing her heartbeat to quiet.
Keeping her cool was crucial.
When she opened them again she wasn't surprised to see a Lambda-class shuttle manoeuvring smoothly to clear the hangar entrance. The lower wings folded upwards and the elegant ship touched down almost delicately.
The Princess approached the already deploying ramp, and her features hardened at the sight of the black, towering figure descending from it.
Palpably tense moments ticked by as the two sworn enemies came face to face.
Leia experienced an almost physical need to hurl herself at that ugly beast and snuff the life out of him with her bare hands.
She had before her the very being that was causing the death of the person she loved like a part of her. Like the best part of her.
For his part, Vader's shock knew no bounds. Not only because the young Princess' hate was a pulsating, living thing wrapping itself around his neck like a tightening rope, but because she was bolstering those feelings through the Force.
Leia Organa was Force sensitive.
When had she developed the skill? Why hadn't he felt her Force potential in all the years they'd known each other and been in each other's presence? What in Sith hell...?
Whatever had awakened those abilities, one thing was plain as day. She hadn't been taught how to master and harness that power. Her feelings and emotions were all over the place and she was making no effort to hide them.
She was also markedly paler and thinner than the last time they'd seen each other. Dark rings under her eyes were stark evidence of the ordeal she was going through.
Seconds passed in which both adversaries appraised each other and the situation... and reached an unspoken stalemate.
The Princess nodded harshly and turned about with a dry, "Follow me."
The Sith Lord allowed himself to be escorted out of the hangar. They walked through several empty corridors that he surmised had been cleared before his arrival. He strongly doubted that anyone other than the Princess herself knew he was here.
Walking behind the petite young woman, he admitted to himself there was a lot to admire in that little Rebel. She was a very outspoken opponent in the Imperial Senate and a cunning strategist; and her raw mental strength, with absolutely no previous training, indicated she would be a magnificent Force user. A diamond in the rough.
Just like his son.
The more corridors they covered the more oppressive the feeling of dread became. With every step, a feeling of suffering beyond measure closed in on him like a suffocating mist.
"How is he?" The words were out of his lips with a breathy tone.
"Dying," was the matter-of-fact answer. "Our doctor is convinced he won't make it through the night."
"We will see about that," he replied challengingly.
The moment he said it a strange weakness came over him; his heart skipped a nasty beat and started pounding, clobbering his ribs in a frenzy.
He was suddenly frantic to see his child with his own eyes, to feel his vital force flowing through his veins.
They reached a double door that slid open before them. Vader found himself in a waiting room with several seats, a food dispenser, a small table with what seemed like a safe on it, and a door on the other side.
His son laid behind that door.
He wasn't aware he'd started for it until the Princess appeared before him, right hand up and out, forbidding him from entering.
He didn't know what stopped him from grabbing her and throwing her aside.
"You're NOT getting in there with that!" she spat, casting a fast look at his belt.
Vader looked down at his lightsaber.
"I will *NOT* surrender my weapon," he refused adamantly.
"You will surrender it to me," the feisty Princess didn't relent. "Considering what you did to him the last time you met, I won't allow you anywhere near him with that thing." The hatred and disgust in the young woman's heart escalated to unprecedented heights.
Vader recoiled at those spiteful words that hit him harder than the blast of an ion cannon through the guts. Slow, unsteady fingers unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and handed it over to the already outstretched hand.
Leia snatched the weapon from his grip and put it away in the safe on the table. She dialed a combination that Vader couldn't see and turned again to him.
"You'll have it back when you leave." The implication that she wanted him out of her sight as soon as possible didn't escape the Dark Lord.
A robot nurse rolled up to them. She sprinkled Leia's front and back with a fine colourless solution and then did the same to him.
Straightening up and fisting her hands, the Princess strode past him. The door opened.
Walking on mechanical limbs that suddenly refused to cooperate, Vader entered the sterile room where his child was living his last hours.
The first thing that struck him was the size of the bed and the machinery surrounding it, compared to the small body lying in it. But nothing could have prepared him for the vision he encountered.
Prostrated by an illness that had consumed everything that reminded him of the young man he'd confronted weeks ago, Luke Skywalker was literally skin and bones; devoured from within by an unspeakable agony that was as much of the body as of the soul.
But what horrified him the most wasn't his son's physical state; it was the absolute lack of humanity in the shell of flesh that housed his essence. His heart was still beating, his lungs were still breathing, but his child wasn't in there anymore. His spirit, his will to fight, the guileless idealism he'd worn on his sleeve that he'd scorned and sworn to wipe out, were truly gone. Like his right hand. The stump at the end of his forearm peeked beneath the cooling blanket covering his withering frame.
The hand he'd sliced off unremorsefully.
The appalling sight before him was a mirror. The mirror of his crimes, of the hatred he'd carried inside and nurtured all his life.
He was staring at the outward expression of his own putrid soul.
He stumbled forward.
"W-W-What...?" he couldn't finish the question.
"Sepsis."
There it was. The word that would destroy his last hope, his only remaining link to what he had been once, to her, to the best of them both.
"All his organs are failing," the Princess' account of his son's condition continued unmercifully. "Every single treatment we tried, was useless." A brief pause. "He went into cardiac arrest this afternoon."
The gloved hands gripped the foot of the bed to keep the immense form from collapsing.
"We got him back, but... how could we hope to mend the heart you broke to pieces?"
The helmeted head tore itself away from the fragile creature hanging to life by a thread, and turned to the furious woman who trembled with anger and despair.
Leia's head turned to him as well and for the first time, the barest hint of emotion showed behind her eyes.
Sarcasm. Bitterness.
"Congratulations. You killed him."
'You killed him.'
Vader's breathing hitched and he stared at the young Princess with bulging eyes.
"You found me... No."
The almost inaudible whimper made both heads whip around in astonishment.
Luke's eyes were wide open, fixed on the monster out of his worst nightmares standing at the foot of his bed. In his emaciated state, his eyeballs looked about to pop out of their sockets in terror.
"He'll annihilate us all, Leia! Please, please, don't let him!"
Leia just looked at him, dumbstruck; a part of her brain wondering where he'd found the strength to utter those words and another part immediately questioning the wisdom of what she had done. What if...? Oh, no! HEAVENS, NO!
"No... No... No!" the distraught blue eyes rolled back and the convulsions started anew.
In a flash, Vader was beside his fading son, reaching out and putting his hand on his forehead, fingertips seeking the precise points on his temples and instinctively passing on everything he was, everything he had to the boy - his only thought, keeping him alive any way he could.
'Soothe him. Soothe him. Soothe him!' an almost forgotten voice shouted inside him.
"Luke. Luke!" he called out with all the authority he could muster. "Calm down. You must calm down! I will not hurt you. Listen to me! I will *not* hurt you! Calm down, my child! It's all right. It is all right. I won't ever hurt you. Shhh. Shhh... Easy... Easy now."
Endless seconds later, the impossible happened. Luke's convulsions slowly began to subside. Bit by torturous bit, his agitated respiration and then his eyes returned to normal.
"That's it. Good. Slow and easy," Vader's eyes sought the panicked ones that regarded him feverishly, so full of naked fear... and something else he didn't identify. The Sith Lord nodded approvingly. "Focus on your breathing. Everything will be all right. I will not hurt you. I will not hurt anyone, I promise. Shhh..."
The rhythmic cadence of his reassurances seemed to give Luke something to hold on to. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow, and Vader wiped them away with a gentleness that would have shocked Rebels and Imperials alike.
"Sleep now. You have to concentrate on healing, do you hear me? Sleep, my boy. Just sleep..."
Stunned beyond comprehension, Leia watched the scene trying to understand why she hadn't reacted when Vader had rushed to Luke's bedside, why she hadn't tried to stop him when he'd laid his blood-stained hands on him; and why in hell Vader's actions felt so... right.
'We're together now and we'll never be alone again!'
'I'll never leave you, my baby. We will never be parted again! Never. Never! NEVER!'
Thoroughly disconcerted, she withdrew into herself, forcing herself to accept what her instincts were telling her, even if it went against everything common sense dictated.
'I love you so much, daddy! Don't go. Please, don't go again!'
"Would you consent to let me stay with him?"
Vader's polite request startled her out of her thoughts. Automatically, her eyes looked for the only one who mattered.
Luke's breathing was deep and regular. For the first time since this nightmare started, he seemed relaxed in his sleep.
She hated to admit it, but her feelings had been correct. Vader was the answer.
She made an ironical face, unable to help herself.
"I guess that's why you're here, aren't you?" she scoffed derisively. A heartbeat later, she made it for the door. "I'll tell Dr. Vilk what to expect when he walks in."
She'd taken just a few steps when she stopped dead and spun around to look at him.
Vader met her gaze and nodded his promise.
And the Princess did the bravest thing she'd ever done. She left, entrusting her most precious treasure to a Dark Lord of the Sith.
Alone with his son at last, Vader stood still, eyes riveted on the skeletal body, feeling as though a billion pins and needles were pricking his insides, tearing emotions from him that he hadn't experienced in a lifetime.
A shaking hand reached out to the sleeping young man, but it froze centimetres away from the ashen face.
'Congratulations. You killed him.'
'NO!'
'FATHER!'
'What have I done?'
'All I want is your love.'
'Love won't save you, Padme.'
'Come away with me. Help me raise our child!'
'Our baby is a blessing.'
A tiny wail left Luke's throat, accompanied by a wheezy laboured breath – a sign of pulmonary edema, as he very well knew.
His hand lingered over the gaunt features, incapable of taking the final step.
Luke's wheezing turned into a full-blown fit of coughing. He raised his head from the pillow, eyes wide open and unfocused.
Vader's hand immediately cupped the back of the blond head, holding it up, and he introduced the other beneath the blanket, right on the heaving chest. He started rubbing in circles, encouraging the spasming muscles to relax.
"Easy. Easy, Luke! It'll pass. It will pass, trust me. Don't exert yourself. It's going to be all right. Shhh... Easy, child. Calm down."
Without a sliver of strength left, Luke's head lolled in Vader's palm like a rag doll's. Vader held it more steadily, and pressed down softly on the ribcage, coaxing the boy into taking slow and deep breaths.
"Breathe with me, Son. Slowly... Slowly... Let the air get in. In... Out... In... Out. That's it. I know it hurts but you must hold on. Take in deep breaths and it will pass... Shhh..."
They soon established a perfect rhythm. Vader pressed down slightly and Luke exhaled his breath; Vader eased up the pressure and Luke's ribcage expanded under his hand.
"Good. Good, Luke. Keep going. Keep going, don't stop," Vader praised, moving his hand away little by little.
The awful wheezing sounds eased as well, and Vader lowered his other hand, putting Luke's head back on the pillow. Swallowing hard, he allowed his thumb to move aside a wet strand of hair. After that, it seemed only natural to slide his fingers down the waxen face. Down the cheek, all around the chin, lingering on the dimple there...
'Don't do that. Stop doing that, or you will be lost. Don't. DON'T!'
But he couldn't stop. He just couldn't. It was pure instinct, pure need, stronger than anything he had ever felt before.
'So soft... It hurts... Force, how it hurts!'
His hand framed the drawn face, feeling the solid reality of it, imprinting his child's warmth in his deepest core.
Leia returned when Vader was moving his hand back. She raised a suspicious eyebrow, but Vader just straightened up and stepped back a couple paces unthreateningly.
The Princess walked up to the other side of the bed. She sat down proprietorally beside Luke, and her hardened features softened as she took his hand between her own.
An unwelcome, unsettling feeling of jealousy mixed with something that he couldn't tell if it was envy or plain resignation rose in the Dark Lord's breast. Somewhere deep inside he understood he had no rights to his son. He was a virtual stranger to him, a stranger who'd hunted him down like a rabid animal and mutilated him savagely in an attempt to break him.
'Congratulations. You killed him.'
Yes. To all intents and purposes, that's exactly what he had done.
Feeling eerily dissociated from the reality around him, he watched how the Princess spoke into his son's ear, trying to keep him anchored to the outside world.
It was obvious that the two youths had forged a deep bond, maybe enhanced by the Force. Observing the Princess now, clinging to his son's hand as much as he was clinging to life through her, he detected an edge of desperation in her eyes and her touch that revealed more about her state of mind than she probably would want him to know.
Looking at their joined hands, he abruptly remembered Luke's frenzied appeal. The boy had been certain he would kill them all.
No wonder, considering...
But there had been something else there. A single-minded, almost fanatical conviction...
"Why did he say, 'you found me'?" he asked unexpectedly, breaking the silence.
Leia's eyes turned to him gradually, as if it took her a great effort to acknowledge his very presence in the same room as them.
"He was terrified you would find us through his... mental connection with you. He felt he was endangering the Alliance just..." she took in a sobbing breath. "...Just by being alive. He thinks that the fact that you're here means that in his weakness he betrayed us all," she blinked hard and looked down again at their clasped hands.
Vader blanched on hearing that. Was the Princess implying that his son was letting himself die rather than risk he would find them? Was that the reason why she'd ultimately called him?
It had to be. There was no other explanation.
And in that moment, his admiration for that young woman, her amazing courage and willingness to abandon her principles and everything she believed in to save a life, both overwhelmed and reminded him of someone from ages past. An impetuous, impulsive young man, always ready to bend the rules in pursuit of what he thought was right, no matter what.
He inched closer to the bed and spoke almost without thinking.
"Hating me the way you do, it must have been very difficult for you to go against your principles and commit what essentially is an act of treason. You must know I respect what you did."
Leia's head snapped up to look at him with fiery, unforgiving eyes. She didn't want the Sith Lord's appreciation or understanding of her sacrifice. She didn't want anything from him. She just wanted Luke to get well so she never had to look upon that repugnant mask again.
"Oh, I do hate you," her eyes blazed with the emotion in question, "make no mistake about that." Her rough breathing echoed in the room like a krayt dragon about to spit fire. Even her nostrils flared. But then, she looked down at the dying angel holding on to her hand and all anger disappeared from her face as quickly as it had come. "But I love him more," she pressed her cheek against the back of Luke's bony hand and closed her eyes, soaking up his touch, letting it suffuse her being.
Taken aback by the intensity of her emotions, Vader drew back. No, he didn't doubt the young woman's love for his son; he'd had ample proof of her devotion to him. It was the nature of that love that puzzled him. Her relationship with Solo had been apparent right from the start, but what she had with Luke truly defied description. In its own way, it was a bond just as deep as the love she'd shared with the cocky smuggler; but with his child... It felt more like a connection of the soul.
The Princess turned her head aside and Vader winced when he saw her wipe an errant tear away surreptitiously.
From his detached vantage point, it suddenly dawned on him the profound loneliness of that woman. All feeling of security, everything and everyone she'd ever loved, had been stripped away from her or destroyed. Her home planet and all her family there first, and now the two men she loved in two very different ways.
He had before him the very image of desolation and bereavement. And she still had the strength to fight for his son, turning to her sworn enemy for help.
As if sensing his scrutiny, the Princess kissed the pale fingers and deposited Luke's hand back on the bed. She stood and, ignoring him completely, turned away from him, doubtlessly seeking to compose herself in private.
Giving her the privacy she needed, Vader's eyes settled on the heartbreaking form of his child.
'Blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh. Why can't I reach you? Why can't I...?'
His musings were interrupted by a shrilling beep that made him jump. He looked around, trying to find where the alarm was coming from.
The Princess must have recognized the sound though, because she let out a muffled scream as she looked at one of the monitors and the flat line that appeared on it.
"NO! NO, LUKE! Don't do this to me again!"
And Vader understood. Not with his mind, not with his brain, but on a visceral level.
His son's heart had stopped.
Something exploded inside him and he lost control altogether. Later on, he wouldn't even remember what he had done exactly. He just knew that his world was ending right then and there; his last link to the woman he'd loved more than his own soul. A deafening roar echoed through the room, and the Dark Lord found himself at his son's bedside.
He was peripherically aware of the door sliding open, a white-haired man bursting in, and the Princess crying out something like: "Don't leave me! You're all I've got!"
He didn't think, he just reacted, almost in self-defense. He thrust out one hand, slamming the doctor against the wall with a Force push. He wouldn't allow anyone near his child. Anyone! Not until he had his say!
Sitting down on his son's bed, he held his head between his hands and brought it close, until he touched the naked forehead to the front of his helmet. He pushed with his mind. He pushed with everything he had until he felt a searing pain behind his eyes. He fumbled for the unresponsive consciousness that only sought to escape him, even if it meant crossing over to the other side.
'You will cease your repeated attempts to commit suicide at once!' he demanded. 'I told you I wouldn't hurt you. Yes, I'm a monster, but despite everything I've done, I've never been in the habit of lying to you. What am I supposed to do for you to believe me? Do you want me to follow you unto death? I will. Is that what you want? Do you want to destroy the lives of all those who care about you? I know you're not a coward, my son, but you're taking the easy way out. Come back and let me prove you wrong!'
Utterly spent, but ready to continue until Sith hell froze over if he had to, Vader prepared himself to unleash another barrage of unrelenting recriminations when he caught the weakest glimpse of a little light, a frightened candlelight that still shone brighter than all the stars in the universe.
Breathlessly, he reached out to it.
'Come back. You have my word that I will never hurt you. I'll leave and you'll never see me again, I swear it. Just come back. Please, my son. Come back to us.'
The faint light throbbed shyly, feebly, beautifully. Vader wished to embrace that little light to him and never let go, but he knew he had to hold back, he had to wait for it, beckon it closer, make it want to stay.
'Don't go, my boy. Believe me for once. Come back. Come back and stay. Stay, STAY! ...Please.'
Something pushed him out of the trance he'd fallen under. Moaning at the separation, he struggled to open his eyes. They felt heavy as lead.
When he did, he could only see a blurry grayish blob before him.
Trying it harder, he moved back until his back touched something flat and unyielding. He sighed out loud, swallowing the dry lump in his throat.
"He's alive," a stranger's voice stated.
"Of course he is," he replied, turning his head towards the source of the voice. The blob began to take shape until it coalesced into a lean, grey-haired man, who appeared busy moving around and handling medical devices here and there.
Behind him stood a ghastly pale Princess, holding her hands in front of her, twisting them nervously.
His body awakened to a foreign sensation that swept away the remaining cobwebs in his mind. The feeling of a dead weight leaning on the left side of his body. Shaking his head, he looked down.
His son rested comfortably, stretched out alongside him. His head seemed to have found the only free space on his torso, nestled right below his shoulder plate and next to his chest plate. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and regular.
'Alive. Alive!' he exclaimed exultantly. He tried to raise his hand, but something had taken hold of his fingers. Looking further down, he saw that his hand was lying palm down on his boy's chest, over his heart, and his fingers were captive... in Luke's own hand.
An aching pain, the likes of which he'd never known before, made him bite his lips and close his eyes to ease the sting behind them.
Unconsciously, he pressed his palm down, looking for the heartbeat... Yes, there it was. A soft, almost imperceptible thud; a thud he would cling to for the rest of his life.
"I don't know what just happened, but I'm glad you did... whatever you did," Vilk turned to Vader, rubbing the back of his neck and doing small motions back and forth with it, as if testing it still worked.
Apparently, the doctor had decided to play it cool, passing over Vader's 'manhandling'.
"How is he?" Vader asked nonchalantly.
"At this point, the fact that he's still alive is a miracle," Vilk didn't beat about the bush. "Aside that, his fever has dropped a little, and that's the first improvement in his condition since... since forever."
Vader nodded.
"I can't tell you what's going to happen next," Vilk levelled with the Sith Lord. "I would advise you to expect the worst at any moment."
"That is simply not an option," Vader left no room for discussion. "He will live."
Vilk's eyes cast Vader a fast look whose meaning was clear as crystal.
"Because I want him to," Vader answered the unspoken, defiant question nevertheless.
A derisively arched eyebrow that said it all was the only comment to the Dark Lord's proud statement.
Leia moved forward then. Her eyes were glued to the broken body in the bed. She stared at it as if she'd finally accepted the inevitable, and it unnerved Vader.
"I suggest we take turns holding him," he instructed the forlorn Princess sternly. "Physical contact is keeping him grounded."
The door closed after doctor Vilk, and they were left alone.
"Do you think it'll do any good?" Leia asked dejectedly.
"YES!" Vader shouted. "You called me because you knew I could be of help. The last thing my son needs is to hear the defeat in your voice."
His words seemed to rouse her from the dark place she'd retreated into. Stark determination returned to her features, hardening them with a well-known expression that Vader was growing to like.
"It won't happen again," she affirmed earnestly.
"Good," Vader nodded heartily.
TO BE CONTINUED...
