Disclaimer: See prologue

Chapter One: Eleven Months Earlier

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Above the skies of the moon of Endor, amidst the Rebel Alliance's fleet, the Alliance's primary medical frigate, the Redemption, circled the planet in high orbit.

It was all deceptively peaceful.

-SOS-

Supreme Commander Mon Mothma of the Rebel Alliance walked swiftly through the Redemption's pristine white corridors, showing only the perfectly calm composure she always had. It seemed an eternity ago that she had made her way along the glorious and elaborate halls of the Republic Senate on Coruscant. Her entourage had changed since then.

The elegant figure rounded the corner quickly. Behind her marched two well-armed guards, and following closely after was the young, nervous-looking assistant supervisor of the Med Bay, clutching a large white datapad in her hands.

The paneled white hall was tense with expectant silence, and echoed loudly with every footstep and movement of clothing – until they began to hear the raised voices ahead.

"You can't just let him die!" Luke Skywalker was protesting. He stood in the hallway, disheveled and small next to his significantly taller opponent. He was frustrated, his blue eyes tired and his face etched with concern.

"Commander Skywalker," The unamused voice of the high ranking Medical Technician in charge of the Med Bay said carefully. "With all due respect –"

"I was informed there was some trouble?" Mon Mothma questioned rhetorically as she approached. It was quite obvious she knew exactly what was going on. The ex-senator wore an elegantly long, white uniform cut dress, her fingers casually laced in front of her.

The doctor whirled. A stern, aging man who was well known for his inscrutability, the situation seemed to have worn down on his stoic tendencies.

"Ma'am, I will not allow that man in my Med Bay, and I most certainly will not give him medical assistance!"

"He is already in your Med Bay, Doctor Zathan," Mon Mothma answered coolly. "And he will not be leaving anytime soon."

She stepped past the high ranking medical official and into the Med Bay, doors hissing open as she passed.

"What! No!" The shocked surgeon ran after her, protesting vehemently. "I had a family on Alderaan!"

The Med Bay went silent for one long, strained moment as the almost overpowering smell of bacta and sterilizers assaulted the occupants of the room. Mon Mothma looked at the doctor with pity.

"I can't forget what happened," Zathan spoke bitterly as he shook his head.

"Many people have suffered and died in this war, Zathan," Mon Mothma returned softly. "It needs to end somewhere."

"Not with him!" The doctor affirmed loudly. "I will not be part of this!"

"You won't have to be, Doctor," the Supreme Commander assured. "I have made other arrangements."

The fragile medical assistant stepped out from behind Mon Mothma and moved toward the medical droids on the far side of the room, clustered about the figure lying prostrate on a med unit bed.

Zathan froze in absolute shock and demanded in outrage: "With my own assistant!"

Mon Mothma gave him a look which seemed to dare him to make a fuss. "Is there a problem with that?"

Frustrated and filled with rage, he opened his moth to protest, then shut it again helplessly. "Fine," he growled. "Vader is all yours," he muttered to his assistant as he stalked past her. She only watched him silently.

The Med Bay was almost silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the medical droids busy in the corner, and the softly beeping machines.

Luke exhaled with relief and moved from his position in the doorway. "Thank you," he began sincerely.

He was instantly cut off by his superior's stern tone. "This is not over, Commander Skywalker. I will expect you to explain everything aboard Home One in the main briefing room in two hours."

Luke ran a hand through his dark blond hair and nodded slowly. "I'll be there."

"This is not a situation to be taken lightly," Mon Mothma chastised. "I hope you have some idea of what you are doing."

Luke almost smiled. "I do."

"Very well," Mon Mothma took her leave, silent guards following her out. "Take care, Commander Skywalker."

Luke looked over toward his Father lying on the med unit bed, still oddly insuperable even in his debilitated form, and still the Father who had saved him.

He wondered how he was ever going to explain this.

Luke could hardly see the figure surrounded by the complex and severely used medical technology and highly sophisticated medical droids. The bioscanner apparatus hummed and sang noisily as it collected and analyzed data from the virtually lifeless form lying underneath it.

"End scan." The Iridonian medical assistant hooked her white datapad into med unit bed, quickly adjusting the med system settings as the overhead bioscanner slowly pulled away into the wall at the voice command.

The 2-1B surgeon droid poked and prodded at exposed flesh of the half-masked face with an elaborate array of needles. "Patient deceased. Ending emergency care."

"No. Override. Attempt life support." The young medical assistant no longer seemed fragile or shy as she put up her dark hair and adjusted the comm piece over her right ear.

"Error: Life Stats: Low." The medical assistant droid, FX-8, spoke with lifeless and scratching artificial echoes of enthusiasm. "Estimated chance of survival: Error – Not available."

Along the lower edge of the holoscreens flashed erratic blue-white lines signifying the non-existent vital signs.

"FX-8, hook into armor life support systems and provide minimal repairs and overrides." The medical assistant looked over the analyzed scans across the screens intensely with pursed lips. "The armor is limiting scanners, rays, and access to vitals. I need an immediate hook up and analysis. I have to see how this thing has been keeping him alive."

The FX-8 assistant droid examined the scorched black armor, and began slowly taking it apart, hooking into the control and life support systems, and commencing with temporary repairs. An elaborate array of revolving mechanical arms extended outward with saws, probes, and various other unfriendly looking medical instruments.

"Life Stats Unavailable." FX-8 commented in its grating and fake metallic voice.

"End emergency care." 2-1B replied insistently.

"No! Override! Attempt sub-life support." The dark haired medical assistant fixed on a new respirator attachment over what was left of the bottom half of her patient's mask.

The monitors blipped and whined as all vital signs suddenly flat-lined. The extent of the patient's cardiac arrest screamed across the monitors and screens vibrantly with an annoying series of alarms.

"Attempt Type C Emergency CPR." The young medical assistant commanded authoritatively, no sign of nervousness yet showing.

"Error–"

"Override!" The Zabrak forcefully cut off the surgeon droid. "Continue resuscitation!"

"Affirmative." 2-1B announced as three flat paddles extended with a twist and click from the surgeon droid's exterior and hummed and pulsed with electricity.

"CLEAR!"

The medical assistant held her hands up and away from the med unit for the brief flash and went back to work at the controls and medical instruments. She swiftly adjusted three of the lines attached to the armor controls.

"Life signs: 34.5" FX-8 announced loudly as the armor systems suddenly reactivated. Almost drowned out by the noise of the med unit, the familiar, sound of haunting breathing coughed and hacked into existence, enduring and failing audibly.

The patient now showed the first signs of life as he flinched and tensed spasmodically against the medical efforts to save him.

"Applying Gylocal stimulant and painkiller." The young medical technician carefully concentrated on the dosage measurements made by 2-1B, and entered the step into her datapad.

"Patient has entered severe levels of shock." 2-1B alerted in his lifeless and artificial voice almost immediately after the first injection as the vital signs across the screen suddenly skyrocketed and then dropped just as dramatically.

"What's happening?" Luke asked loudly over the overwhelming noise.

Undaunted, the medical assistant continued: "Initiate fluid injections into blood stream. Chromostring plus standard emergency life support package. 4.01 synth fluid. 14 Sedative H4b."

"Shock levels increasing at a rate of 42." Another urgent alarm sounded.

The heart rate was weak and increasingly erratic, lost along the along the other failing and failed critical vital signs on the primary holoscreen. The faint and haggard, struggled breathing now came to a sudden excruciating halt.

"What's happening!" Luke demanded anxiously over the noise of the shrieking alarms and monitors.

"Excuse me," the faded-orange skinned humanoid suddenly commanded Luke's immediate attention and turned to face him. "Can you leave?"

"No," Luke answered firmly.

"Then stay out of the way!" The medical assistant ordered loudly in a voice edged with suppressed exasperation as she turned back to the critical med unit. "Now! 26 more H4b for three seconds and four minutes apart."

"Life Signs: FAILING." The FX-8 droid informed, "Life stats: 22."

"2.4 synth fluid increase to injections." 2-1B acted quickly in response to the ever failing and changing vital signs.

"21.9 : Critical Life Stats."

"I know!" the medical assistant yelled in controlled frustration. "Stim injection 4.2 – increase in four minute-two minute appliance!"

"Error. Doctor, the stimulants are counteracting the sedatives for shock." 2-1B explained through his halting artificial speech.

"Switch seds to 3.5 min appliance. Inject... now." Her practiced calculation continued to check and alter the hopelessly erratic life stats without positive effect.

"Patient is passing on." 2-1B announced, "Alert family and friends."

"No! Override!" The medical assistant shouted desperately. "Continue life support!"

"Life Stats: 16.7 and FALLING."

The automatic door to the hall hissed open suddenly with the entry of two more med droids and a floating maintenance probe droid. They hovered over to the med unit and Luke was uncemeoniously pushed to the side.

Everything had faded into a dreamlike haze, time seemed to slow, the sounds of the medical assistant's commands and the intricate medical technology echoed from so far away...

Luke stepped away from the muddled chaos helplessly and sat on a white metal chair on the opposing wall, concern, fear even, eating at him from the inside. He put his head in his hands, staring at the floor he whispered with hope fading almost as fast as the life signs: "Father, please...live...if you can..."

"14.1 and holding." FX-8 announced clearly and loudly.

Luke looked up quickly, his eyes stunned, unsure of what he had heard.

"...14.1 and holding..."

And for the first time in hours Luke suddenly was certain of the truth… Anakin Skywalker was going to live.

He was sure of it.

-SOS-

Home One was near-empty, Luke discovered as he jogged down the hallways of the Alliance's flagship towards the briefing room. From the moment he had exited the shuttle he had taken from the medical frigate, he had been struck by the absence of ships and the quietness of the corridors.

He had passed a few tech officers earlier, who had informed him that there was celebration underway down on the moon. He felt somehow guilty that he was essentially dragging Leia (and Han, and Lando, he reminded himself grimly) away from the celebration to listen to news such as he carried.

The thought of his father sent Luke's thoughts into a knotted, anxious whirl all over again. What was going to happen to him? What was happening to him now? What –

No. Luke shook his head firmly to clear it was he continued hurriedly down the corridor, not sparing a glance out the huge panoramic windows that dominated the wall to his right. A Jedi must be calm and at peace.

His mind was serene and controlled for one blissful moment, then his churning thoughts came flooding back with a vengeance. Luke shook his head again. This was not going to go over well with Leia, he was certain of that. And it probably wouldn't go over well with anyone else either, for that matter.

The silence of the corridor, broken only by Luke's hurried footsteps, slowly became riddled with the quiet murmurs of voices. He was nearing the briefing room. Luke picked up his step.

He rounded the corner, and there was Leia, just entering the room, still away down the hall. "Leia!" he called.

She whirled, shrieked: "Luke!" and sprinted towards him.

He hugged her quickly, tightly as she came up. "I knew you weren't dead!" she exclaimed in an excited, awed tone. "I felt it."

"Good," he answered, grinning despite himself at her astonishment. He looked up towards the briefing room doors for a second. "Where's Han? And Lando?"

"They're in the briefing room." She looked him over for a moment. "What's wrong?"

Luke bit his lip and smiled wryly. Either her connection with him had suddenly decided to strengthen or his exhaustion had severely diminished his acting skills. "Leia," he said seriously after a moment, holding her shoulders tightly.

She frowned slightly. "Luke…" she looked up at him keenly, though Luke saw carefully masked trepidation in her eyes. "What happened on the Death Star?"

Luke bit his lip. "I did it, Leia," he said softly, amazement coming into his voice as he admitted the incredible truth out loud for the first time.

Leia blinked, her frown becoming deeper. "You did…" she trailed off. Luke saw in her eyes sudden recollection, then they widened as she took a step away from him. Luke let his arms fall limply to his sides. "He came back?" Leia hissed, her voice a study of mixed shock, anger, and indignation.

Luke nodded. "Leia," he said softly. "He saved my life."

Leia shook her head, eyes widening. "Oh, no," she said, strained, denying laughter edging into her voice.

Luke felt suddenly helpless. "Yes, Leia… I'm sorry… he…" he trailed off for a moment as Leia simply stared at him wide eyed. "He's here," he said finally. "On the Redemption. That's why Mon Mothma called the meeting."

Leia simply shook her head. "No," she repeated firmly, seeming to completely deny what she had just heard.

"Leia, he killed the Emperor!" Luke tried again.

She simply shook her head, a stubborn glare edging into her eyes as her face hardened and her mouth stretched into a thin line. "No, Luke," was all she said. She whirled quickly and marched back down the hallway, never looking back.

Luke watched her for a long moment.

This was not going to go over well.

A/N: Hehe... review...?