A/N: Well, here it is – finally. I appreciate everyone who has stuck with this story and commented on it. There will be one final addition in the form of a short epilogue, after which I will consider this completed - at this point I have no plans for a sequel, and precious little time to write one in any case.

For those who are interested, I do plan to continue my other WIP Redemption, but unfortunately, I don't expect the updates on that one to be frequent. It will eventually be finished, though.

JE


Chapter 15

Pain. The world had vanished and there was nothing left but pain and suffering, the acrid stench which surrounded him, penetrated the very being of one who had once stood tall – had once defied the evil. The electricity coursed around him, enveloped him, became part of his very existence, fused itself to his soul and bound him to the pain which had rapidly become and extension of his being

All that was left was pain.

Vaguely, he heard his own cries, his own desperate pleas for mercy – but somehow, he could not even recognize his own voice, could not even feel the vibrations of his throat as screams forced their way past his parched throat and rent the very air with an intense, almost living violence. But his screams went unnoticed by the great evil – the evil reveled in his pain, took strength in the suffering it was inflicting. The lesser evil remained unmoving, unchanging in his stoic defiance of his own feelings – feelings which he could even now sense welling up within him, fighting the darkness which had laid claim on his soul for more than two decades. Yet he did not yield. And the other…

Yes, the other one! She stood watching the spectacle; he could feel her heart aching, her desire to step in between him and his tormentor, and her fear at what was happening, what was to come. Yet something held her back – something deep within her psyche kept her from doing that which she knew was right – kept her from saving the one she loved.

But the connection was strong, its strength such that he could feel her every emotion, understand her torment and her silent struggle. He knew he was transmitting, in some small measure, his pain and torment, but he knew this would not be enough to allow her to break through whatever was holding her back. Whatever she was to do, whatever whoever she was to become, it was now out of his hands – it was time for her to decide for herself, become what she was meant to be.

Knowing the pain was not about to recede, he began to accept it, to draw it to him, allow it to gain purchase and, although only slightly, he began to rise above it. His perceptions shifted and he was able to ignore the pain to some small extent, to watch and follow her progress. As her feelings changed and her powerful feeling of love welled up and burst through everything in its path, a scream of primal rage issued from the depths of her throat. He felt tears slip from his eyes at the knowledge that she had finally been able to overcome whatever was holding her back. He rejoiced in her self knowledge and the ability she now possessed – the ability to determine her own future and control her own actions, no longer held back by the encumbering effects of the mental block. She was now free.


Mara leapt down the stairs and threw herself in between her love and the tyrant, her face a mask of determination and implacable will. The force of her scream had caused the Emperor to look up at her with incredulous surprise, his lightning to flicker out due to his surprise and consternation. He was staring at her as though he had never before seen her and she could feel his strength probing her shields, his concentration fully upon her.

A familiar feeling of fear caused her to hesitate for a moment in the face of her tormentor, yet Mara nevertheless gathered her courage and projected all of her defiance toward him and was rewarded by the immediate darkening of his expression. It was obvious to her that whatever he had done to ensure her obedience and inability to go against his will, its destruction had left him with no way of coercing her to his will.

"You would try your hand against mine, Hand?" he hissed at last.

"I would," was her only reply.

His sardonic leer in response chilled her. "A pity. There was still some hope for your redemption and re-entrance into my good graces."

"Slavery, you mean," Mara replied, desperate to keep him talking until Luke could recover. She could sense the young man struggling to regain control of his body and put himself back into the conflict. Given the strength of the Emperor's attack and the effects of his lightning, which she knew all too well, it would be several moments before he was sufficiently recovered to rejoin the fray. It was up to her to provide him that time.

The Emperor merely shrugged in response to her accusation. "There are those who have the good sense to realize that some forms of slavery are worth it. As my servant, you had everything you could ever want – a purpose, your own ships, more credits than you could ever hope to spend… How very typical for you to throw it away for so weak and transitory an emotion as love."

"And how very typical of you to disparage something of which you have no comprehension," Mara snarled. "Any sort of connection with you is not worth the price."

"I promise you, Mara Jade, your death will not be quick or easy." He jabbed a gnarled finger at her. "Your suffering will be immense."

Mara ignored his bravado and focused on the impending confrontation. She was well aware of the fact that she would not last nearly as long as Skywalker had in a confrontation with both Sith Lords necessitating the removal of one of them from the fight, even temporarily. She watched the Emperor as he chuckled at her.

"Are you prepared to watch your lover die, Skywalker?" he taunted.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the Emperor struck. The blue energy burst out from his fingers, raging at his intended victim, but Mara was ready for his assault, catching it on her lightsaber as she had seen Luke do moments ago. But instead of deflecting it around her as Luke had done, she twisted her lightsaber around and directed the energy back to its source.

Her maneuver caught the Emperor completely by surprise – his eyes widened and the energy hit him directly in the chest, throwing him to the deck to writhe in agony as his chilling screams rang out through the room.

Snarling, Mara advanced on him, intent on putting the tyrant out of her life for good. "I have been your slave from my earliest memories. Now see your own death and despair – the Force will now exercise its judgment on your head."

Mara! Look out!

Luke's warning impacted against her consciousness and she dove to the side, narrowly missing the scything lightsaber which cleaved through the space in which she had just stood.

Rolling to her feet, Mara brought her lightsaber up to protect herself, barely catching another sweep from an enraged Vader as he unleashed upon her the fury of the dark side. Mara backed away from the Dark Lord, knowing she could never stand against him with his experience and knowledge, understanding that her only hope was to remain out of his reach until Luke had recovered from the Emperor's attack. Using his dependency on the armored suit which encased him, Mara moved away from him, engaged in a deadly game of keep away, forever remaining out of his reach. She knew, however, she could not keep it up for long.

Get up, Luke!


Managing to rise to his hands and knees, Luke watched as the woman he loved avoided the deadly blade of his father, while willing his recalcitrant limbs to obey his commands. The Emperor's dark energy had robbed him of all of his strength, leaving him an invalid during the very moment in which he most needed his strength.

A few meters away from him, the Emperor lay on the ground in the same difficulty, his breathing labored. Luke could only imagine the effect of the Force lightning on the despot's frail-looking and aged body. Although he was tempted to call his lightsaber and end the threat of this monster for good, Luke felt he was out of the fight for now. His first priority was to rescue Mara from the hands of his father. Besides, no matter what the Emperor had done or how deserved such a fate would be, he simply could not cut down a defenseless man in cold blood – he would not stoop to the Emperor's level. Some might say it was necessary to do anything to remove the Emperor from his seat of power and that Luke's priorities could be considered backward, but at that moment Luke did not care – his life had been orchestrated to bring him to this point, and he was not willing to sacrifice Mara or his own principles to achieve those ends. They would face the evil and defeat it together.

Tottering to his feet, Luke spied his lightsaber lying a few feet away, and using the Force, he called it to his hand. The familiar weight and feel of the blade calmed and reassured him immensely and he breathed a sigh of relief to have it once again in his possession.

He glanced around the room and witnessed Mara in full retreat from the figure of his father, her protective shield beginning to fray beneath his father's repeated attacks. His legs were still stiff and they protested the ill-use, but Luke steeled his resolve and began to move in the direction of the duel being waged.

Mara, lead him to me.

She gave no indication she had heard him, but the focus of her defense abruptly shifted and she made a desperate feint and attacked before breaking it off and retreating in his direction.

By this time, Luke felt sufficiently recovered and moved to engage the Dark Lord, who shifted his attention to this new combatant smoothly, allowing Mara to escape to the side and catch her breath.

Keep an eye on the Emperor and make sure he can't come after me until I can put my father out of the fight.

He felt rather than heard her agreement and fixed all his concentration on Vader.

"You have made a foolish choice, my son. Now you will pay the price."

"You really are his disciple, aren't you?" Luke taunted. "Is it some sort of requirement for all Sith to be trained in banal platitudes of the dark side's supremacy and the art of jeering at your opponents with subtlety?"

The anger rolled off his father in waves and Luke was forced to retreat from the onslaught. Grimly, he smiled at his father as he strove against him, knowing Vader was now exerting himself to the fullest of his abilities. And yet, it was not enough. By now, Luke had progressed to the point that he understood himself to be the equal of his father in ability and strength, if not experience, and his lack of his father's experience was balanced by the stiffness his father exhibited due to the confining and crippling effect of the suit he was forced to endure. Luke was filled with and intimate knowledge of the Force and great confidence in his own abilities, and he understood he could end this and bring his father to his knees. The knowledge did little to comfort the young Jedi, but he would not allow his compassion and love for his father to deter him from the necessity of what needed to be done.

"Are you prepared to feel the full power of the dark side?"

"I think I've already felt it. I am decidedly unimpressed."

By now, Vader was almost blind with his anger and disappointment, but Luke grimly held his ground and faced his father. The two combatants clashed with one another, the furious battle being waged flowing through the expanse of the Emperor's throne room, its intensity and ferocity transforming it into an almost living entity.

From across the room, Luke could feel the immensity of the dark side as it gained strength and rushed into the room. Forcing Vader back, he risked a quick glance behind him, witnessing a recovered Emperor, who was now attacking Mara with his deadly lightning. An instant was all he had as his father once again pressed forward his attack, forcing Luke to return his attention back to the immediate threat. He tried not to worry, as Mara had seemed to be holding her own, but his anxiety was immediately heightened by the thought of her being attacked by the Emperor, as he knew the tyrant was a ruthless and powerful combatant – he would need to finish Vader off quickly so as to go to her aid.

Switching once again to the offensive, Luke forced his father back with several powerful strokes, his disgust with his father rising to the front of his mind.

"How can you live with yourself, Father?" he demanded, as his attacks forced Vader back several steps. "You serve that… piece of filth and commit atrocities in his name. How dare you forsake your responsibilities for this… tainted existence!"

"You know nothing, you insolent boy!" Vader responded, asserting himself to drive his son back. "There is nothing but power – all your other illusions are merely those conjured up by a deluded mind. The power of the Sith is supreme. We are strong, ruthless and cunning – we were born to rule the galaxy and enforce our vision of order upon those who are less than we are."

Luke shook his head sadly. "This is not who you are, father… who you once were. You can throw off the yoke of the Emperor and the dark side! Become who you really are and who you were meant to be! It is not too late."

Disgust was evident in his father's sneering response. "Spoken like a true Jedi drone – your time with Yoda has left you weak and ultimate unsuitability for the honor of being a Sith. Look around you, son. The strong take what they want; the weak are forced to submit. That is the way of the galaxy – the way of life. Who are we to overthrow the natural order of the universe?"

Luke was about to respond when he was hit with a wave of agony and despair; it emanated up to him, penetrating him and causing him to stagger back a step. His father must have felt it too, as he ceased his attack and watched his son, his Force sense questing for the source of this sudden disturbance.

Luke knew instinctively that the source was not in this room – instead it had emanated up from the moon hovering below, an entity which reached out to him through the basest of instinct, its guiding hand inexperienced, yet powerful.

Leia! She had been injured!

And in that moment when her Force sense was crying out to him, Luke was unable to close his thoughts around her cry. He knew his shields had opened up and the final secret, the final chance should he fail, was now exposed to his father's understanding. The final puzzle of his family's past was now in his father's possession.

As her cry subsided, Luke allowed his Force sense to touch hers, immediately understanding the hurt she had received was not fatal – her Force sense continued to blaze as a beacon, and although she appeared to be in pain, he could feel her continued determination and resolve. Luke's eyes automatically found his father's mask, and although the helmet as ever denied even the view of his father's eyes Luke could sense the turmoil, which had been a part of his father's sense from the time they had confronted one another on Bespin, now flowed and seethed through Vader's consciousness, its grasping fingers permeating through every facet of Vader's soul.

"Sister," Vader breathed, unreadable emotions revealed even though the filter of his mask.

"Yes, father, a sister. Your daughter."

Vader said nothing in response, but Luke could feel his emotions raging, his bewilderment growing beyond all proportion.

"How does it feel, father – to know that the woman you tortured on the Death Star is none other than your own daughter?"

Though he made no response, Luke could feel a spike of guilt fill his father. Knowing he had Vader exactly where he wanted him, Luke raised his lightsaber to defend himself, all the while continuing to taunt the other man with the knowledge of the daughter he had never known.

"You must know, father, that I will never allow you to turn Leia to the dark side – much of what I have done here today was to protect her from you. If you will not join me in ending the Emperor's reign of terror, you will join him in being destroyed. I suggest you make your choice."

Again, the turmoil evident in his father prevented a reply, but Luke was grimly pleased: Vader's new found knowledge of a daughter he had never known and had tortured those years ago on the Death Star, may yet prove the final impetus to effect his transformation.

Luke could only hope.


Time seemed to stand still as Mara Jade waged her own battle with the evil which held the galaxy in its grip. Her only thought had been to end it – destroy the Emperor and send him to the abyss reserved for all of his ilk.

But after catching her breath, she had approached the mad despot, only to have him draw heavily on the Force, dispatching a wave of his lightning toward her which was stronger than anything she had ever seen or felt from him before. She had narrowly avoided it, stunned in the knowledge that it would have been her destruction if it had hit her.

Now, the Emperor's fury and power were beyond anything she had ever witnessed from him. The rage emanating from his diseased mind was a physical entity, his wrath a tangible hammer which bludgeoned her defenses and threatened her sanity in concert with his insane cackling.

She had attempted to deflect her erstwhile master's lightning back on him at the outset of their confrontation, but the old man was too crafty to be caught by such a stratagem a second time. While their duel was not as furious and dramatic as the clash between father and son, it was no less intense, for all that they had essentially fought each other to a standstill. Mara wracked her brain for some way to end the standoff and finish the Emperor, but could think of nothing. She was left with containing him and ensuring he was not able to turn his attention to Skywalker long enough for the Jedi to defeat his father; then the two of them could finish the tyrant off together, once and for all.

Mara was hardly aware of what was happening across the room when she felt the Emperor break off his assault, his piercing gaze resting on the young Jedi. Confused, Mara turned and was surprised to see Luke standing in the middle of the room, a look of anguish etched on his face. Furthermore, Vader stood to the side watching him, making no move to further the attack. From somewhere outside the four of them, Mara could feel a sense of distress – as if a being was crying out in the Force. Her training was as of yet incomplete, and she could not determine from where it was coming, or from whom. But for the first time, Mara felt what Luke had apparently sensed the entire time – Vader was deeply confused and conflicted, his emotions raging within his consciousness, so unlike the controlled despot she had known all of her life.

A sharp cackle arrested her attention and she turned back to the Emperor, taking in the expression of pure malicious glee which now suffused his face.

"A sister," he wheezed in between his laughter. "Well, well, who would have believed it?"

Not having any idea to what he was referring, Mara shifted to protect herself from imminent attack, but his attention never wavered from the drama which had engulfed the other end of the room.

"And if I remember correctly, she, at least, shares her father's fiery personality. Perhaps there is another answer to my apprentice conundrum…"

Her lack of knowledge could not change the fact that his words were spoken with the utmost of malice and cunning, and Mara knew she had no choice but to continue the battle, believing Luke would eventually take up his lightsaber once again and seek to remove his father from the fight.

She began to move to attack, but the Emperor sensed her intent long before she had even begun. His eyes flicked contemptuously to her face and she was greeted once again with a burst of dark energy, which by now she had become sufficiently adept in turning aside.

"So, it comes to this, Hand," he spat, the full measure of his cruelty once again fixed upon her person. "It seems I no longer require you and your pitiful skills."

"Pitiful skills you once made use of under the most trying of circumstances," she retorted.

His answering grin was feral. "I had to give you some way to earn your bread. But as it is, you are no longer required, and I find myself forced to put you down. Such a pity."

His hands pointed toward her and once again she found herself raising her lightsaber to intersect his energy. But this time, he followed it up with an almost negligent wave of his hand and Mara felt herself flying backward at a dizzying pace, desperately trying to grab onto anything to slow her rapid path across the floor.

Pain blossomed in her head as she felt herself impact against something hard and unyielding, and she slumped to the floor.


Across the room, Luke felt Mara's pain and turned to glare at the despot who was even now chuckling with delight. After a quick glance, which showed that his father had not yet regained his senses, Luke sprinted across the floor, intercepting the Emperor as he approached the helpless young woman. Luke could sense his enemy's intent through all of his available senses, and knew if he was not swift, he would lose Mara forever.

He felt fury at the diseased old man bubbling up from deep within, but Luke forced it down, willing himself to remain calm and controlled. Mara had already saved him from the dark side and himself once – he would not allow himself to be seduced down that path yet again. Calm, dispassionate restraint was what was needed to defeat the evil.

The Emperor immediately broke off his planned assault on Mara to face Luke's threat, but even he appeared to be taken aback at the vigor of the Jedi's attack. His face showed true panic for the first time in the confrontation, as lightning spewed wildly from his fingertips and he moved desperately away from the young Jedi.

"Vader! I command you to slay this young intruder!"

His pleas had no effect on the black giant, as he remained rooted to the spot, the conflict still evident in his sense. Luke smiled grimly at the sight and pressed his attack on the Emperor, his mind working at this new opportunity to save his father, an opportunity which had seemed lost only moments before.

"Father!" he called. "You do know what this manipulator plans, do you not? He wants to make Leia his puppet in your place now that he hasn't been successful in maneuvering me into the same position."

The Emperor sputtered in rage and attempted to speak, but Luke continued to yell over his vicious lies. "Yes, Father – his use for you is at an end, now that he has a younger, less flawed option with which to work."

"Don't listen to him, Lord Vader! You have dreamed of ruling the galaxy with your son at your side once I am gone. Think of it! Now you have another option, since your son has proved so unworthy of the honor. Your daughter would prove a most admirable replacement!"

Luke laughed, a harsh, scornful sound, even to his own ears. "Controlling to the end, Your Highness. Look into his heart, Father. You will see nothing more than your death in the blackness of its depths!"

The Emperor snarled in reply, as the ferocity of his attack redoubled, a fury Luke met with cold implacability. Victory over the darkness was now within his grasp and he pressed his advantage, willing the duel to end.

"Vader! I command you to slay him!"

Luke was almost sorry for the Emperor, hearing his shrill attempts to deny what was so obvious in his sense. Yet, he it seemed like his father needed a final nudge and Luke was certain he knew exactly what it would take. "Perhaps he will keep your armor for her, once you no longer have any need of it…"

All at once, Luke felt his father begin to move, his fury and rage an almost visible entity, and although he reasserted his control in an instant, Luke could tell he only kept it under regulation with great difficulty. But Luke could spare no attention for his father, such was the force of the Emperor's attack.

He could only hope his pleas had been enough.


Pain. The only sensation left was his pain: the pain of his weary and damaged body, the pain of his soul at the way his only son had rebuffed his overtures, the pain so clearly transmitted through the Force by his only daughter – the daughter he had not even known the existence of mere moments earlier.

How had it all come to this? His life, once so full of promise, was now reduced to the insane whims of the despotic madman he had served with such diligence and faith the past twenty years. Whatever had become of his duty, his purpose, the life which had once been filled with such promise and hope? What had he become? Where had it all gone wrong? He trembled at the sudden thought of what his mother would think of what he had become.

The thought of his mother brought images of others from his past – Obi-Wan his master and friend, Master Yoda his great mentor and teacher, Master Windu, whom he had most cruelly betrayed at his moment of greatest need… He remembered master Qui-Gon, whom he had not thought of in years and the way the great master had championed his training and his belief in the young boy he had been. Images of others he had known, friends of a young boy on Tatooine, acquaintances and comrades of a young Jedi… All dust, all a part of history and his past.

But transcending them all, he was riveted to the image of his beloved wife, his Padmé, another in his long list of betrayals – and the most heartrending. He remembered her standing before him that fateful day on Mustafar, claiming he was breaking her heart through his actions; then he remembered, too, Obi-Wan's emergence from the ship and the rage he had felt upon seeing his old master and his certainty that she had betrayed him. He relived in excruciating detail what had happened next, how he had accused her of betrayal most vile, how he had held her throat in his grip, how he had clenched his fist to take her life and the lives of her unborn children. Only Obi-Wan's quick action to pull her from his grasp had saved her life.

The thought of her fate caused his thoughts to move in another direction as he wondered what had become of her once Obi-Wan had taken her from the planet. Obviously, Vader had not killed her outright that day, as he had so long believed to be the case. Of course that did nothing to absolve him of his culpability, as he was certain her death had resulted from his violent act, not to mention the effect it had had on her psyche – the heartbreak of his defection had undoubtedly contributed to her will to live.

Had the Emperor known she had not died that day? Had he known of Vader's children, or had Obi-Wan been successful in hiding their existence? Had he, perhaps, known of Luke, but not of the other child? Vader had no answers, but the fact that Palpatine had used Padmé's death as a way to enrage him, to ensure his guilt would be without remission and that he had nowhere else to turn, did not escape Vader now. Looking back on the events of the past, Vader was able to see clearly for the first time – to recognize that regardless of the Emperor's pretty words about finding a way to stave off death, he had never intended for Padmé to survive, for if she had, her firm beliefs and headstrong ways – ways which in no way agreed with Palpatine's vision of order – would forever mean Vader would be in conflict between his master on the one side and his wife on the other, dividing his loyalties. Surely the Palpatine he knew would not accept such a situation. If Vader had not so conveniently removed his wife from the equation, he had little doubt Palpatine would have engineered her destruction in some other way. Of course, with the prize of his children to consider, he doubted his master would have moved against her until she was safely delivered – the children were too valuable a prize for him to have risked their deaths. The mere thought of Palpatine in control of his young children filled Vader with rage.

And now, his master was once again attempting to induce him to turn his back on his own family and follow him blithely in continued self-destruction. His son's words floated up in his memory. How can you live with yourself, Father?

How indeed? The image of his wife's pain and anguish floated up from the deep recesses of his memory, mingling with his daughter's agony, his son's pain of betrayal, mixing with the siblings' determination. Even the pain of the young woman with whom his son was so obviously in love reached out and grasped at him, caressing his soul with the memory of shared emotions with his own beloved Padmé. He had destroyed his own happiness, willfully marching toward his own doom. He would not – could not – do the same to his son and his daughter. The time of reckoning had arrived.

Although he had not heard the major portion of the words which had passed between his master and his son, one phrase floated up to him and caught his attention.

Perhaps he will keep your armor for her, once you no longer have any need of it…

The thought of anyone, especially his own daughter, forced into an existence such as he had endured in the accursed armor filled him with utter fury, greater than anything he had ever felt; his gazed became affixed upon the cause of all his misery – Palpatine. He snarled at the man, his rage and fury beyond limits as he thought of what he and his family, not to mention the entire galaxy, had suffered at the hands of this man. This must not be allowed to continue.

Suddenly, his fury was replaced by a calm implacability, and for the first time in his life, Darth Vader – no, Anakin Skywalker – knew with an absolute certainty what he had to do.

He raised his saber and strode toward the dueling combatants, noting the Emperor's growing laughter at his approach. His lips turned up in a sardonic smirk, anticipating the surprise the tyrant would feel when he became aware of his misinterpretation of his apprentice's intentions all too late.

Bracing himself for the discomfort of the Emperor's lightning, Anakin clutched his saber in one fist and stepped between the Emperor and his son, absorbing the deadly lightning into his own body. The agony nearly drove him to his knees, but the armor which he had cursed daily for the past twenty years for once proved a boon, as it blunted the effect of Palpatine's attack.

"Lord Vader, what are you doing?" Palpatine screeched with fear.

"Something I should have done twenty years ago," Vader snarled in response.

Raising his fist, he took his lightsaber and slammed it through the Emperor's chest, cleaving through flesh and bone, impaling the Emperor's heart with one sure stroke.

The Emperor screamed, a harsh, keening wail, and he clawed at Vader's hands, his own skeletal fingers still discharging the lethal energy, which ran its way up Vader's lightsaber and through and around his entire body. He shuddered and convulsed, feeling the respirator which kept him alive begin to falter, as the damage to the electrical systems which maintained the suit began to short it out. Knowing it would all be over in a moment, he grimly held on to the saber, willing the Emperor to expire.

"I believe the Force awaits you, Palpatine," he whispered, "and I don't think it's very impressed with what you have done with your life."

All at once, Palpatine's lightning ceased and he grew still for the barest of instants. Then, his body seemed to cave back in upon itself before a massive explosion of Force energy burst out, his body. Blues, greens, reds – all the colors of the spectrum screamed past the sterile lenses of his helmet, causing him to be momentarily distracted by the thought that the Emperor's death had been more beautiful than anything he had accomplished in life. His introspection was only to last for an instant, as the force of the blast picked Anakin up and flung him across the room, throwing him away from the Emperor's final convulsive demise. By now, he could feel the damage to the suit, as it stuttered and stumbled, his vital life functions lurching along with it.

When he came to rest, Anakin lay his weary head down on the deck and allowed his eyes to close. It was finally over – he had at last had the strength to end the nightmare and throw off the shackles of his master, helping to save his children in the process. He knew he was dying, but at the end of it all, he decided he really didn't mind – his time was past. It was time to once again see his Padmé. It was time to make way for the future.

For the first time in twenty years, the long unused muscles of Anakin's face strained upward, and he felt himself indulging in a true smile of peace.


A dazed Luke Skywalker lifted his head and gazed around the room in astonishment. The room had grown silent, the stillness of deep space, in the aftermath of the Emperor's destruction. Luke had never felt anything like what had just occurred, had never felt the raw power unleashed for such destruction. He struggled to understand, but, above all, this one thing was clear – the Emperor was dead; his reign of terror and ruin was over.

Groaning, Luke pushed himself up on his hands and knees, grateful he had not been at the epicenter of the despot's destruction – although he had not escaped unscathed, the small distance had allowed him to erect a makeshift barrier and he had only received minor bumps and bruises as a result. His father…

Luke's head shot up and he peered around the room, at the same time becoming aware of the halting sound of his father's respirator. He was able to spot him immediately – he had come to rest on the far side of the room against a large support; his Force sense was weak and indistinct. Desperate to get to his father, Luke swayed to his feet, but he stopped abruptly as the sight of Mara leaning against the wall, her expression blank, her eyes closed, arrested his vision. Two warring desires pulled at him, the woman he loved on the one side, the need to finally meet his father on the other.

"Go to her, my son; she needs you," the voice of his father floated up to him, apparently sensing his indecision.

To Luke's ears, the voice was weary and wan, but he acknowledged the logical request, knowing his father had not much longer to live. He staggered the first few steps, but soon found his balance and rushed to her side. At his approach, her eyes opened and she stared at him, her wonder over the events of the past moments evident on her face.

"Mara, are you all right?"

She nodded her head in a jerky, unsteady motion, then winced at the pain he could see in her eyes. Luke knelt at her side and pulled her to him, enfolding her in a tight embrace. She clung desperately to him, her emotions barely in check. Luke soothed her as one would a baby, murmuring in her ear that it was over; they were finally free.

Noting the matted blood on the back of her head, Luke turned her gently in his arms and looked closely at the area, feeling her wince when his probing fingers wandered too close to her injury. Fortunately, nothing major seemed to be wrong with her.

"Well, you'll likely have a headache after this, but I don't think there is any major damage."

She nodded at him, glancing across the room to where Vader still lay. "I can't believe it's over."

"Well, we do still have to get off the station, you know."

His attempt at levity was only partially successful. She smiled briefly, but continued to study the form lying on the other side of the room.

"I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it."

Following her line of thought, Luke grinned at her. "I told you he could be redeemed."

"So you did."

Luke studied her, an uncertainty in her manner alerting him to her possible feelings of inadequacy. "Mara, in all beings there exists a capacity for either great good or evil. It stands to reason that no one who has gone in either direction cannot turn from that path and act in the opposite manner – Master Yoda constantly preached of the need to avoid temptation and beware of the dark side for this reason. I knew my father had the ability to be saved not only because of the conflict I felt in him, but also because of the man he had once been. Every being has the potential to be saved, no matter how far they have gone."

"Even the Emperor?" she queried, the beginnings of a smirk forming on her face.

Laughing at her blatant skepticism, Luke shook his head and focused on her once again. "Well, I suppose there are always exceptions to every rule."

She stared at him in mock surprise. "Well, if that isn't the most un-Jedi thing you've ever said!"

They laughed openly, holding each other in a tight embrace.

All at once, though, reality set in and the urgency of the situation intruded upon their consciousness. They drew away from each other and in immediate understanding rose to their feet to take stock of the situation and see to their ultimate escape.

Crossing the floor quickly, Luke knelt beside his father, Mara once again at his side, and peered at the shell of the man lying on the deck. His father's respirator sounded damaged, no longer the strong, determined rhythm of the past as it stumbled on in an alarming asynchronous rhythm, tottering along like a drunken man. The lights on the front of his suit had been half smashed, and there were burns and rents in the armor. It was clear it would not function much longer.

"Thank you, Father," said Luke, his voice quiet, yet filled with sincerity.

"It was merely something I should have done years ago, son," was the answer. "You cannot even begin to comprehend how much I regret ever following him."

"Now is not the time to think of it, Father. You made the right choice in the end and that is what is important."

A wheezing chuckle met his declaration. "If I didn't already know you were my son, that statement would have convinced me. You are ever the optimist, just like her."

"My mother?" Luke asked, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Yes. I wish you could have met her… If I hadn't been so blind, you would have grown up with her."

"Father, that's in the past. It's time to think about the future."

"Son, the future for me can be measured in the next few moments."

There was nothing to be said in the face of his statement – Luke knew it was only the truth. A part of him wept at the thought he was about to lose his father, just after finding him. The more rational part realized there was no future for his father – his time as Darth Vader, the things he had done as the Emperor's right hand man… they made the possibility of living out a natural life difficult at best. Besides, Luke could sense his father welcomed the end.

"Luke," he began again after a moment, "please do not mourn for me. Use my life as a lesson and a warning. Remember what Obi-Wan and Yoda taught you and rebuild the Jedi to be even greater than what they once were."

"I will, Father. We will try to avoid some of the mistakes which were made and turn the Jedi into an even greater force for good in the galaxy."

A sharply raised brow greeted Luke's statement. "Son, I knew Master Yoda long enough to know what he would have said about trying."

A bubble of laughter escaped Luke's lips. "So you did. We will rebuild the Jedi, Father, I give you my word."

"Good. Now, my son, my final request of you is to help me get this infernal mask off."

He seemed to sense the question in Luke's gaze and he continued. "It filters out so much of what I can see, making everything seem sterile and lifeless. I would like to look upon one of my children with my own eyes, if only for a moment. Besides, just once I need to face you without this mask between us."

Luke and Mara exchanged a glance in silence, before they moved to honor his father's request. Together, they grasped the heavy helmet, which had covered his father's head for more than twenty years, off his head. The complicated breathing apparatus, complete with voice modulator and countless other items necessary to his father's continued existence, was then removed and finally, after years of dreaming, wondering what it would be like to face his father, Luke met his father's eyes.

Anakin Skywalker's eyes were blue, a deeper and darker blue than Luke's own, and even after having been hidden behind his mask for decades, they were sharp, seeming to pierce through Luke's very existence. His face was ghostly white – it had not seen the light of any sun in over two decades – and there was a large scar running from his forehead which disappeared around the back of his head. He was completely bald, no hair appearing anywhere on his face.

Although time, the effects of years under the influence of the dark side, the damage due to his injuries and his pale complexion made it difficult, Luke could see a family resemblance, in the shape of his father's eyes, his jaw, and even the way his father now smiled up at him. It was a tremulous, heart-felt smile of joy, occurring finally after a life full of sorrow and pain, and it warmed Luke's heart to know that at the end, his father was to find peace. Luke could see himself in that smile – the family resemblance and the recognition of a kindred spirit. Meeting his father for the first time – truly meeting him – was not as he had always dreamed, but somehow, he knew it was enough.

Yet, his father's smile was tinged with sadness – shame for the actions of a wasted life, regret he had never truly known his son, sorrow that they would never, in this life, know what it was to be bonded as father and son. There was love in that smile as well – love for the son he had never known, the knowledge that he had finally been able to conquer himself, to move beyond the past and see his progeny as something more than tools to be used to further his own ambitions. Luke could not tell what his father had suffered over the years, or understand how he had felt or what his thoughts had been, but Luke knew without any doubt that no matter what the Emperor had attempted to bring Anakin Skywalker under his thumb, his father had never truly had the light of love and goodness driven from his soul. Somehow, through all the years, Anakin had kept the memory of his wife and the Jedi in his heart and had endured.

"I am sorry, my son," his father intoned, his voice solemn and thoughtful.

Luke said nothing in response, realizing that on some level, to someone, Anakin needed to say this, to make his apology. Who better to hear it than his own son? Besides, to brush it off and claim no apologies were necessary would be to diminish the suffering of the galaxy at the hands of the Sith since even before Palpatine had seized power. Luke could not, would not, make light of the life his father had led.

Anakin seemed to take heart at the encouraging smile Luke showed him. "I was stupid, my son – stupid and blind. I allowed Palpatine to lead me about by the nose, allowed him to deceive me. I am not making excuses for my behavior – I followed him willingly into the abyss, and I regret every decision I made in his favor."

"Why did you do it, father? What possessed you to follow him?"

A sigh and a grimace of regret answered his question and Anakin cast his eyes down, deep in thought.

"You must understand that Palpatine was not always as he is now. At one time, he appeared to be the benevolent leader of the galaxy, truly concerned with the welfare of all. He was elected Chancellor soon after I met the Jedi, and although the Jedi distrusted him when he stayed in office after his term was finished, he was always kind to me, always ready to talk, to give advice, to be a friend. It was only after the Clone Wars had dragged on for several years that he asked me to join him and I saw him for what he was."

"What happened?"

He was silent for several moments, obviously lost in the memory of those long ago events, his brows creased and narrowed as he contemplated his actions. Luke shot a questioning look at Mara, but she shook her head in answer to his obvious question. She had not known anything of this story, for her master had not deemed her important enough to be informed.

The dying man began to cough, desperate hacking gasps which wracked his body. The unfiltered air and faltering reserves of his armor were obviously taking their toll. Luke understood this, but also that his father needed to make his final confession; thus he set the breathing apparatus to his father's mouth and allowed him to breathe deeply for several moments before Anakin removed it once again and faced his son.

"I had been having dreams which foretold the death of your mother in childbirth. I was desperate to prevent that from happening. I could not bear to lose her as I had lost my mother… I'm sorry, Luke, but you don't know what it was like to watch my mother die in my arms – the helplessness I felt as she passed away in the Force. I vowed I would never be helpless like that again, that I would never let another be taken from me as she had been."

His eyes glazed over in remembered pain, and Luke gazed at him, curious of the events of his father's past, but knowing there was no time to get into protracted stories.

Anakin shook his head, clearing his mind, and continued. "I married her, although it was expressly against the Jedi Code, but we kept it secret so I could maintain my position with the Jedi. Palpatine somehow guessed our secret and began regaling me with tales of the ancient Sith and how they had been able to preserve life. It never even occurred to me to question how he knew about the dreams, but somehow he did."

A harsh laugh escaped his lips and his voice took on the bitterness of a life wasted. "He played on my insecurities, wooed me with his flattering words, speaking about how we would save her, rediscover the secrets of life together. I see now he never intended for her to survive, although he was undoubtedly interested in my unborn child. I was a blind fool."

"You never knew about Leia?"

"Never," he confirmed. "Padmé never told me she was carrying twins, but why she kept it a secret, I cannot tell. It may have been she didn't want to burden me any further with the demands of the war and my worries for her safety. Until the battle of Yavin, I never knew of your existence either. I had always assumed you had died with her."

"How did she die?"

"I don't know, exactly," he responded, his face lowered in shame. "She was alive the last time I saw her, through no help of my own, and I assume she died in childbirth… i can only conjecture she lost the will to live. There are so many things I regret – so many things I wish I could change… It was the ultimate irony, Luke – I, who would have done anything, given everything, turned to the greatest evil to save her, but it was my actions which eventually led to her death."

He lapsed into silence, and Luke, although grateful for the information his father now shared with him, was anxious to hear more, to learn of the history of his family and the Jedi. But he could tell it was not to be; his father was withering before his very eyes and Luke could tell the end was near. There seemed to be an expectancy in the Force, as if all of creation held its breath, awaiting the return of one of its greatest.

Anakin roused himself once again to look at his son. "Take care, my son; do not make the same mistakes I made."

"I will, Father."

"Take care of each other," he spoke to both, taking them both in his gaze. "The Jedi of old did not allow relationships, and from their point of view, their reasons were sound, as my history shows. But if you can love one another, without the possessiveness and fear of loss which were my greatest failings, the help and support of a partner can be invaluable. Love one another, but do not let your emotions be ruled by possessiveness, or they will consume you."

Glancing at Mara, Luke noted her slightly flushed face and the way she would only meet his eyes for a moment. He knew she was still uncertain of their relationship in light of the secrets she had kept from him, but he was grateful to have her with him in this difficult time. They would face many challenges in the future, and knowing the task of rebuilding the Jedi was one he could share with this beautiful, amazing woman brought a sense of comfort and rightness which suffused his soul. He would have to be patient with her, easing her from the casual tyranny which had marked her relationship with the Emperor. He certainly didn't mind – he could conjure up a lifetime worth of patience if it meant she would remain by his side.

"So, I was right – there is something going on between the two of you," his father said, accompanying the words with something between a wheeze and a chuckle.

Luke's sudden furious blush brought a smile to his father's face. "You are wearing the same look on your face which was undoubtedly on mine every time I was near your mother as a young man."

The thought of his father young and in love brought a smile to Luke's face and he reached out to squeeze Mara's hand. Her response was everything he could have wanted.

"I wish we had more time, Luke," his father said.

Luke could tell his strength was fading fast. The sound of his father's breathing was becoming shallower and more labored. A new wave of sorrow washed over him, but he forced it down, understanding it was for the best.

"So do I, Father. But I'm glad to have finally met you. It has made everything we've endured worth the effort."

Anakin nodded, his breaths now coming in painful gasps. "You will be a great Jedi, my son. Now, leave me, and tell your sister you were right about me. Tell her I regret everything that came between us – tell her I wish I could have known her better. Tell her I'm sorry."

Understanding his father's last desperate apology for what had happened on the first Death Star, Luke reached out and grasped his father's hand. "I will, Father. I will tell her everything."

A small smile graced Anakin's lips and with one last shuddering breath, his eyes closed and he slumped back against the deck. Tears started in Luke's eyes, but he shook his head and laid the armored gauntlet on his father's chest, dipping his head in reverence for the passage of his father.

He stayed that way for a moment, gazing at the face of the man who had given him life, sorrowing for the past and the circumstances which had caused him to have grown up without knowing the man.

A slight movement caught Luke's attention and he peered closely at the form of his father, noticing a slight shimmering at the edges of his father's face. The flickering gradually grew more distinct, rippling waves spread across Anakin Skywalker's face and then with a final burst of white light, he faded from view, leaving the empty husk of his armor behind, cold and unmoving in its emptiness.

Luke exchanged a wondering look with Mara, as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

"What does it mean, Luke?" she asked, her voice hushed and reverent.

"It means he's been forgiven," Luke responded, confident, yet emotional.

Mara's eyes widened and she stared at him in amazement. "But all he's done in the past twenty years…"

"I don't claim to understand it, Mara. But something tells me he's been forgiven, that despite whatever mistakes he made in his life, his act of selflessness in destroying Palpatine has resulted in the atonement of his wrongs."

Still disbelieving, Mara gazed back at him, her features showing shock and disbelief, as well as a certain wonder.

"Perhaps he was born to do this, Mara. I don't know, but something tells me he has been accepted back into the Force. He has finally returned to join Yoda, Obi-Wan, and all the other Jedi who have gone before. I'm thankful he's returned home."

She seemed to consider this for a moment and glanced back at him with a shy smile. "I'm happy for him, then. I think he often considered me a rival and he was brusque and short with me, but his manner never approached the blatant unkindness and sadism of the Emperor."

"Thank you for being here and for making the right choice," he told her, his voice filled with emotion.

"The choice never would have been made without your influence, Luke," she responded.

Luke glanced over at his father. "I wish I had more time to know him. I think I'll have to get you to tell me about him some time."

Looking a little uncomfortable at the suggestion, Mara still nodded, indicating her willingness to tell him anything he wanted. Knowing her as he did, he knew she would be feeling guilty about her past and doubting she could shed any light on his father's true character, but with the events of the day, Luke was hungry for any information he could possibly glean from her narration. Anything at all would do.

His attention was caught by a sudden rumbling, accompanied by a pronounced shuddering in the massive space station. Peering out the window at the battle being fought above the Death Star, Luke could tell something had changed. Although it was difficult to make out any details due to the distance, the smaller ships seemed to be swarming over their larger foes, and the massive bulk of his father's flagship was absent from his view. Knowing instantly the tide had turned, Luke took stock of their situation, convinced they had mere minutes to get off the station.

Meeting Mara's gaze, he could tell in an instant that she had come to the same conclusion.

"We need to get off this station."

"The Emperor has a ship docked nearby, I'm certain. We can use it to escape."

Luke studied her intently.

"I've seen the blueprints," she replied, her manner bashful. "Besides, he would never go anywhere without having an escape route planned in advance."

"We'd better move, then."

Getting to his feet, Luke bent and affixed the helmet back to the now empty armor; then, taking hold of the arms of his father's armor, he began to drag it in the direction Mara indicated.

"Luke, what are you doing?"

Meeting her quizzical gaze, Luke gestured in response, motioning her to precede him down the corridor. "I know his remains are gone, but I'd like to show my respect for him by treating his non-organic remains with the proper respect."

Shaking her head, Mara nevertheless made no further comment. She stepped back, and, grasping one of the arms in her hands, she helped him drag it in the direction of the small hangar off to the side of the throne room.

As she suspected, a modified shuttle stood in the hangar, its engines upgraded, and its defensive systems reinforced and bristling with the latest in technology and firepower. Whatever else could be said about the Emperor, he had a strong sense of self-preservation and the ability to ensure his protection was top of the line.

"You get the shuttle prepped for takeoff, while I get the armor into the ship," Luke directed.

Nodding at his instruction, Mara headed for the cockpit, as Luke ensured the suit was stowed in the cargo hold. Within moments, she had the ship under way, setting course for the moon below, away from the site of the Emperor's death, heading into a future filled with the hope for freedom.


Cinders from the fire flew up into the darkening Endor sky. Mingling with the evening sounds of the forest, the fire's eager tongues consumed and purified the last physical remains of the last Sith Lord, which lay in repose upon the bier. His redemption at the very moment of his death still had the power to amaze, even humble, the two young humans maintaining a vigil at his side.

Mara glanced at her companion, noting his quiet contemplation of the bonfire, his brows knit up in deep thought. Although his barriers had been closed since their departure from the Death Star, Mara could sense an almost distracted and pensive air about him, as though he was considering something of great depth and importance – or considering their relationship.

If she were to admit it to herself, Mara knew she was afraid. What would she do if he decided she was no longer worth the effort and broke off their relationship? A part of her said she was worrying needlessly – after all, she had heard him pledge his love to her, had felt his emotions as clearly as though they were her own, had understood his devotion and commitment, once given, were as strong and immovable as the forest floor beneath her feet. She knew she should have nothing to fear.

And yet, the fear she had felt before the confrontation with her former master, the fear Luke would hate her for what she had been and done, had now returned to haunt her, filling her with scenarios and visions of what her life would be without his continued support and presence in her life. That was, of course, if he did not simply hand her over to the Alliance authorities as an assassin and enemy combatant. His quiet and pensive attitude, which had persisted the entirety of the afternoon, had not filled her with confidence, instead seeming to speak to his ongoing thought over what he was to do with her now that the Emperor was finally destroyed and the Imperial fleet driven from Endor.

What she would do without his support in her life she could not tell – he had become as necessary to her as the air she breathed, not only for his knowledge in the Force, but also for himself. She had come to understand that they complemented each other perfectly – his knowledge to her experience in the galaxy, his sometimes impetuous nature to her calm rationality, his idealism to her pragmatism. She loved him, wholeheartedly. Now that she was able to admit it to him, it seemed a cruel fate if he was to reconsider and banish her from his presence.

She stole another sidelong glance at him, trying to memorize his profile in case she was forced to leave him, and thought back on the day's events He had been calm and in control as they left the doomed station moments before its destruction, calling off the Alliance fighters which had swarmed over them within moments of their departure. The subsequent conversation with Leia had been amusing, to say the least – she had not been happy once he informed her he had something to take care of and would not join her until later in the evening. Her suspicion had been evident in her voice as she had queried regarding the whereabouts of 'Arica'. His reassurance that she was indeed with him, and that no, she had not betrayed him, had taken some time for her to accept, but in the end she had been forced to yield to his promise that she would see him once his business had been completed. It would take some time for Mara to gain the princess's complete trust and reassurance.

It had not been until they had arrived on the moon that Mara had sensed a change in his demeanor and noticed his withdrawing into himself. They had not spoken more than a dozen words since their arrival, through the gathering of the wood and the arrangement into a bier, to the lighting of the fire and the subsequent time they had spent by its side, watching it burn his father's remains in the manner of the ancient Jedi. That much, it seemed, he had known of his Jedi heritage, although from where he had acquired the information, Mara could not say.

Anakin Skywalker's death had not hit her in the manner it had affected his son. He had been an elusive figure for most of her life, only interacting with her when necessity demanded it, avoiding her at all other times. He had certainly not been cruel and capricious as her master had been with her, but his tendency to avoid her had not given her any means to draw into any emotional attachment with him, and his short, almost angry manner in the times in which he had been forced into her company had left her with a certain healthy respect for him, not to mention a desire to never give him reason to be overtly displeased with her.

With a sigh, Mara shifted her weight and chanced another glance at her companion, only to see him regarding her, an intense, focused expression on his face. Mara felt her heart flutter painfully in her chest as she understood her fate was now to be decided. Whatever he had been pondering, it appeared he had come to some sort of resolution. The grip of fear settled itself into her being as she returned his gaze.

"Thank you, Mara," he said, something she had not expected to hear, as overwrought as her emotions had become.

She blushed and looked down, mumbling her reply.

"You know, calling you Mara seems strange… yet right. I called you Arica for so long it should feel strange to refer to you as Mara, but it doesn't. It's almost as if I never knew the real you in your Arica persona."

"No, Luke," she answered, her eyes rising to his for a moment, allowing him to see the passion in her response. It lasted only a moment before she flushed once again and once again lowered her gaze to the fire. "I think… You are the first one to ever see the real Mara. I wasn't just playing a part – I was myself for the first time."

"What do you mean?"

She could tell he was not angry, just curious in his question. She hardly knew what she was trying to say to him, only that it was important for him to know she was more herself in his presence than she had ever been in her life.

"I wish I could give you a coherent response, Luke," she replied still peering into the fire. "I'm not certain I completely understand myself. All I know, is I was not… encouraged to have a lot of initiative or show any individuality when I was growing up and I think I hid in the 'Emperor's Hand persona'. I've never been allowed to be myself, and I never let myself show in any of my previous missions – it was all just my master, his orders and the mission. With you, I was slowly able to shed that all, until you were left with just Mara. For once in my life, I was making decisions on my own, being accepted for who I was rather than just being an adjunct to the Emperor."

"But it wasn't really you, was it?" Luke asked quietly. "You were certainly not being yourself when you lied about your past and hid the fact that you worked for the Emperor. I'm not certain I ever saw the real you."

Mara glanced at up at him, her previously forgotten confidence returning in a rush of anger. As suddenly as it appeared, her anger was spent and she lowered her gaze again. "I suppose it must seem that way to you. It's just that… Betraying Palpatine is not something taken lightly."

"No, I suppose it wasn't."

His choice of words caused her to turn startled eyes back into his face as hope filled her being.

His mouth turned up in a slight smile as he witnessed her reaction. "You can't think I'm insensible of the courage it took to stand up to your master in the throne room, do you? I'm grateful to you, Mara – I would never have defeated them both on my own. It was your choice, your actions, which have allowed me to survive the ordeal. You have my eternal gratitude."

She cocked her head at his speech, wondering what he meant by it. Gratitude was one thing, but it did not imply he still felt the love for her he had declared on the shuttle. Mara felt herself almost breathless and lightheaded in anticipation of his next words.

"Mara, do you recall telling me on the shuttle you didn't know why you did not use your blaster on me when you had the chance on Jabba's barge?"

His choice of subject could not have surprised her more had he suddenly begun speaking of Tusken mating rituals. It was all she could do to nod her agreement to his question and stare back at him.

Chuckling at her response, Luke reached out and grasped her hand in his before continuing. "I was just curious… Do you have any greater understanding now of why you could not pull that trigger?"

Uncertain as to why he had referred back to this event in their history, Mara nevertheless considered back to the time on the barge, feeling again her triumph as she peered through her blaster sights at his unprotected back. She tried to recollect the feelings she had experienced which had precipitated her hesitation and hasty reaction to the thug who had suddenly appeared in her sight. And even further back, she recalled her grudging admiration for his resourcefulness and remembered her reaction to her first knowledge of his approaching presence and how their eyes had met in the throne room.

She glanced up at his eyes and let her gaze fall to her hand, which was clasped in his warm embrace, before she sighed and responded. "I don't know, Luke. I suppose I felt a… a connection of some sort. From the first moment I sensed you approaching Jabba's throne room, you were… different… different from what I'd been led to expect, different from anyone else I'd ever met. I felt a strong… attraction from the first moments of our being in the same vicinity of one another."

"As did I."

His response was quiet and controlled, but the emotions underlying his words almost took Mara's breath away. She gazed into his eyes and found herself lost within their depths, now certain the regard he had expressed on the shuttle had not been lost. It was still reflected within their blue depths and she felt tears pricking the corners of her own eyes as she realized she would not be sent away.

"Looking back on it, can you tell me anything else?"

A small laugh escaped her lips and she regarded him through tear-filled eyes. "I suppose you're going to claim the Force brought us together?"

"Can you doubt it?"

She shook her head, amused by his romantic nature. "I don't know what brought us together, Luke, but I'm very grateful it did – whatever it was."

"Mara, think about it – you, the Emperor's servant, with a perfect record of success in past missions, find yourself in the ideal situation to complete your mission, yet you hesitate, though you've never done so before. What other explanation is there?"

"I don't know, Luke. I've thought about it and can't explain it. I was trained to act, not think, and for whatever reason, I was not able to fire that blaster, although my ability certainly reasserted itself when I saw that thug step out and try to do my job for me."

"Exactly," he emphasized. "You have thought about it, and yet, you can't explain it. So let me explain it for you."

She regarded him with a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth, waiting for him to continue.

He responded with a grin and a squeeze of his hand, as he began stroking the back of hers with his thumb. "You couldn't fire at me, because you felt this connection between us, the likes of which you had never felt before. We were connected, Mara, before our encounter in the throne room, before we met, before either of us knew of the other's existence. Obi-Wan, Yoda – hell, even my father and the Emperor – they all liked to talk of destiny and how some things were predetermined, without our input and without our consent. I believe we were destined to meet, to redeem my father and help him defeat the Emperor to restore freedom to the galaxy. No other explanation makes sense."

"It's a very romantic view, Luke."

"Can you dispute it?"

The look in his eyes, combined with their closeness and her emotions running rampant, caused Mara to avert her eyes. "No, Luke," she answered, her voice almost inaudible, "I can't."

They sat in silence for some moments, each studying the other, basking in the currents running between them. The fire had died down somewhat and the still glowing embers bathed their faces in its red glow.

"Is that all?"

His gaze turned quizzical. "Is what all?"

"We were meant to meet and save the galaxy? If that's all there was to it, then it's not nearly as romantic as I thought."

A laugh escaped his lips and he pulled him to her, resting her head on his chest. "You're referring to us and this… connection we have?"

She nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

"I think I have to take the credit for that."

"You?" she responded incredulously, pushing away from him and peering once more into his eyes. "I suppose I had nothing to do with it?"

"When I had to drag you kicking and screaming into it?" he responded with a laugh. "It sounds like it was more my doing than yours."

Mara was silent for a moment, considering his words and the meaning behind them. She knew he did not doubt her feelings for him, and his words had the effect of relieving her anxiety; yet, a little niggling feeling still held sway over her heart.

"So, our little adventure in the Emperor's throne room hasn't changed your mind about me?"

"No, Mara," he said simply. "In fact, I've never been more certain of anything in my life than I am of this. We complement each other in so many ways; I find that I am even more in love with you now than I was then."

Tears gathered in her eyes, to fall on his shirt as she hugged him to herself, a joy which she had never before felt filling her heart. Against all odds, regardless of all that had come between them, he still loved her. She would not be alone after all.

"Thank you, Luke. I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

"So, you figure you can put up with a mere farm boy from a third rate planet?" he drawled.

"Just watch me," she responded with a delighted laugh.

She sighed and settled into his embrace, and they were silent, both content with the new-found feeling of shared emotion, shared purpose, the prospect of a life bound to each other, which now stretched out before them. Mara felt her miserable existence in servitude to the Emperor and the events of her childhood begin to slip away from her, relegated to the past, where they should be. It was all due to the influence of this man in her life. She knew she would spend the rest of her life trying to repay the debt of his compassion and assistance. It was a debt she was happy to repay.

"In case I've never said it before, I love you, Luke."

Feeling his arms tightening around her, Mara instinctively dropped her shields and reached out for his presence. They met in exquisite communion, as for an instant all barriers between them dropped and they became as one being, their secrets, their entire beings now bared before each other.

As much as Mara would have expected it to be uncomfortable to be so exposed to Luke's view, she found the opposite to be true – there was an immense feeling of relief and pleasure to be connected so intimately to another. It was also a final confirmation of their mutual attraction and love, a confirmation of all they had struggled for and had overcome. It was peace.

The feeling only lasted for an instant, and soon Mara felt them part, felt their consciousness once again separate, felt a moment of intense loss.

"That was… amazing," the awed voice of Luke Skywalker breathed in her ear.

"Did… did you know it was possible?" she responded after a moment's hesitation, after she had brought herself back under control.

"No, but I want to experience it again."

Mara said nothing in response, but she could only agree, as she nestled further into his embrace.

Silence reigned over the clearing, except for the occasional popping of the dying embers of Anakin Skywalker's funeral pyre, and Mara basked in the shared feeling of love and devotion. Her happy ending had occurred, in spite of everything. Finally, she was home.


Some time later the last remaining members of the Jedi Order made their way back to the Ewok village, where the celebration party was already in full swing. Massive bonfires had been lit for the occasion, and the large part of the Alliance freedom fighters were in attendance – or at least those who could be spared from the pursuit of the remnants of the Imperial fleet. The atmosphere was festive and lively, as many of these men and women, most of whom had fought against the tyranny of the Empire for much of their lives, now gave themselves over to the feeling of relief and accomplishment. Surely the Empire was not completely defeated, but with the Sith defeated, the rest would fall into place. It was a problem for another day – tonight was to be given over to laughing, joking, dancing – the communal outlet for celebration, both for the victory won that day and the providence which had allowed their survival.

Into this maelstrom of activity and delight, the two Jedi arrived, greeted enthusiastically by friends new and old, held up as heroes, a distinction earned by the their bravery and an obdurate will to overthrow the Emperor at all costs. Congratulations flowed in and the small band of friends laughed and slapped each others' backs, each grateful for the presence and friendship of the others.

And to their small intimate party, the events of the night were punctuated with the acceptance of a new member to their exclusive fraternity, although for the princess, that recognition was difficult and hesitant. Solo merely shook his head and smirked at the obvious closeness exhibited by the two Jedi, while Lando, although still wondering over his lack of success with the beautiful young woman, congratulated them in their success, while accepting their return commendations for his own part in the events of the day.

A flickering at the edge of the celebration caught the attention of the two Jedi, and for an instant, three ephemeral beings joined the celebration, their faces shining with benign good humor and pride.

The scene was particularly poignant for one young Jedi, as he beheld his father, who looked as he would have as a young man, his features easily recognizable and similar to his own. The tears in his eyes reflected his joy at seeing the final confirmation of his father's redemption and admittance into the Force, his being in the company of his mentors, the men who had prepared his son for his own task, now successfully completed.

The meeting was emotional, yet momentary, as soon the old Jedi had faded from view, leaving the new Jedi to their own devices, a final parting and benevolent passing of the torch. It was now up to them, the rebuilding of the Jedi, the healing of the galaxy, the future, in all its myriad possibilities.

The two Jedi exchanged a look, then a smile, before turning back to the festivities, their hands clasped and their hearts as one.

The past had been conquered.

The future was about to begin.