Chapter Ten: The Third Mission

Luke, Leia and Jix sat around a table in one of the Falcon's holds, each nursing a cup of caf as they hurtled through hyperspace. With Han and Piett in the cockpit and Anakin and Chewbacca (whom Anakin insisted come along) in the back making sure the hyperdrive would hold up throughout the course of the mission, Luke decided to take advantage of the situation and ask a question that had been bothering him of late.

"Jix, you know Father pretty well, right?"

Jix shrugged. "Better than most."

"Do you know why he turned to the Dark Side?"

Using all her self-control to avoid choking on the sip of caf she had just taken, Leia glared at her brother. He was supposed to warn her before he said things like that out of the blue!

Looking uneasy, Jix replied, "Shouldn't you be asking him about that?"

Luke frowned into his mug. "He won't say, and . . . I don't want to push."

Jix sighed. "I don't know what happened, but he said something to me once . . . 'Love is horrible. It's temperamental and demanding. it's tiring. It uses you, and it changes its mind. But hatred, now. That's something you can use; you can sculpt, and wield it to carry out your will. Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you. It's so soothing.'" Jix paused. "I've never forgotten that. It made him seem more human, somehow. That was when I realized that his life probably hadn't consisted of many buttercups and daisies."

"Something must have happened between him and Mother," Luke mused, recalling the nightmare he'd picked up from Anakin, the one he'd told Han about.

"He was close to Obi-Wan, too, and we know how that turned out." Leia sighed and swirled the dregs of her caf. "To give up on love so completely . . . that's terrible."

The door swung open. "Speak of the devil," Jix muttered, tossing back the last of his caf as Anakin entered, followed closely by Han and Piett.

"Chewie's bringing us out of hyperspace," Anakin announced. "I want to go over strategy with you."

He sat down. "I've been to this prison numerous times, and the layout makes it unrealistic for all of us to go traipsing through it. I will go alone."

All five of his companions opened their mouths to object, then shut them again without a word, realizing that they'd have better luck persuading a compass to point south, and that trying to stop him outright would be akin to stepping in front of a steamroller.

A mirthless smile tugged at Anakin's lips. "I want you to stay by the ship and distract as many people as you can. If I tell you to take off, do so. Don't worry about me; I'll hijack a TIE or something. If that happens, meet me on Vjun in the next system. TIEs aren't built for hyperspace."

They agreed, but hey didn't like it. They knew, however, that Anakin wouldn't care if they liked it, as long as they followed his orders.


When they touched down, Chewie staying the cockpit to prepare for a quick getaway, the six humans disembarked. Anakin sank into the shadows of the prison building as Han distracted as many stormtroopers and other officials as he could with a boisterous yell.

It was painfully easy to enter the prison. Not the brightest of beings, all the stormtroopers had vacated the building to go deal with the five other humans who were kicking up such a fuss. It never occurred to them that there may be someone sneaking in quite literally behind their backs.

Then he walked into what felt like a black hole in the middle of the brightly lit hallway. He reached for the Force – and it wasn't there.

Ysalamiri, the part of his mind he managed to keep from panicking whispered.

Oh, shit! a much larger part screamed.

"Skywalker?" a feminine voice queried, breaking through to him.

He searched the cells to his right. It wasn't hard to find her – the black-haired woman stood right at the bars of the old-fashioned cell, her eyes fixed on him. He walked over.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked, taking note of her four companions before turning his attention to the lock.

"Olee Starstone," she replied. "We're Jedi who escaped Order 66. We've been separated for most of that time, but we finally decided to get together a few months ago. And they caught us. They were waiting for Vader to come and deal with us, but now that rumour has it that he's dead, they don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm not Vader anymore, so how about I help you out instead of dealing with you?" he murmured, mostly to himself as he activated his lightsaber and destroyed the lock.

Only Starstone heard him. "Anymore?" she hissed in shock as the door swung open.

He ignored her and pointed in the direction he had come. "If you go that way you will find a wall of stormtroopers. If you can get past them, there is a group of Rebels whom I'm sure will help you out."

They collected their lightsabers from a small table drawer across the hall (Stupid stormtroopers . . .) and Starstone's four companions thanked him and set off in the direction he indicated. Starstone herself stayed by his side.

"Were you really Vader?" she asked, her tone bordering on accusing.

"Yes," Anakin replied calmly, holding back a sigh. He activated his comlink. "Solo, you have four refugee Jedi coming at you. When they get there, take off before all hell breaks loose."

"Before?" Han yelled back. "A little late for before, don't you think?"

"You haven't seen anything yet. Now move, Solo!"

"You heard Uncle D!" Jix's voice came over the comm from the background. "On the ship!"

"Vjun?" Han asked.

"Vjun," Anakin confirmed, and ended the connection. "You're coming with me?" he asked Starstone. She nodded firmly. "Then let's move on. That ysalamiri they put in with you is driving me crazy."

Once outside the ysalamiri's area of influence, Anakin rolled his shoulders and reached for the soothing presence of the Force, which flowed easily to him once again. He sighed happily. "Alright, now to find that Rebel."

As they searched, Anakin commented to Starstone, "You know, I remember you. You were that bratty little Padawan who attacked my on Kashyyyk, weren't you?"

She glared, but nodded. They continued their search in silence.

Soon, Starstone snagged his sleeve. "This him?" she asked.

Anakin glanced in the cell. "Probably, since it's the only occupied cell besides your we've come across. Nicas Mowgua?" he called.

The man lifted his head. Anakin cut down the door. "Can you walk?" he asked the prisoner.

"Yes," the man rasped, and struggled to his feet.

"Hangar bay?" Anakin asked Starstone.

She pointed. "That way . . . I think."

They were nearly to a ship when the stormtroopers arrived.

Mowgua cowered behind Anakin and Starstone as the Jedi deflected the numerous blaster blots. Starstone swore as a bolt hit the hilt of her lightsaber, taking out the on/off switch and rendering the blade useless as the blue energy faded out. Anakin handed her his, and ignited the red one he carried for himself.

Starstone winced when she saw it, but kept fighting at his side. Mowgua, however, shrieked, "Sith!" and took off across the hangar bay.

Anakin swore again and followed, trying to protect both of them, but it was no use. A bolt went through Mowgua's forehead, and he crumpled to the ground.

Anakin turned to head back to Starstone's side (or at least a ship or wall, to protect his back) but he was surrounded. Damn!

It took a good half hour, but Starstone managed to commandeer a ship. Picking up a weary Anakin on her way, she blasted out of the prison and into space.

"Good job," Anakin commented as she entered the coordinates into the autopilot.

"You said Vjun, right?"

"Yes." His voice, coming from behind her, was hardly more than a whisper. He sounded as exhausted as she felt.

"So." She paused. "Can you tell me about Vader?"

No answer.

"I can understand why you don't want to talk about it," she continued, staring out the windshield at the stars, "but I'd really like to know. What could the Order have done as a whole to make you turn against and kill them all like that?"

Still no answer.

"Anakin?" She frowned at his silence and turned to look at him.

Only them did she realize her mistake.

What she had taken for exhaustion was not exhaustion at all.

Oh no.

She watched in horror as the hole in the center of his chest bled sluggishly, mostly cauterized but still staining his black Jedi robes enough to give them a sinister crimson sheen. He had been shot from behind, Starstone realized, and the bolt had gone clean through.

Slumped in a passenger seat, blue eyes closed, Anakin made no move to clean or cover the wound..

He made no move at all.