Twenty-Three
Abeloth didn't engage in combat in the traditional sense, though Luke supposed that hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. In a lightsaber duel, which required elegant footwork and fluid acrobatics and precise timing through deft use of the Force, she would have defeated Luke and Leia in less than a parsec anyway. While both he and his sister had a natural affinity for the Force, they were still essentially padawans and would not have been a match for her in any regard. Still, Luke would have preferred being pummeled in a lightsaber battle to the barrage of psychological warfare that she unleashed upon them instead.
Her ability to burrow deep into the crevices of his most private thoughts and inclinations and ferret out his greatest fears was terrifying. She walked through his mind with the ease of taking an afternoon stroll. But it was the power she possessed to shape worlds based around those fears that was infinitely worse. It became almost impossible to discern fact from fiction, real from dream.
Luke struggled mightily to maintain his grip. He tried to remind himself that none of what he was experiencing was real. That was the mantra he kept repeating to himself over and over again. He would be thirteen in less than two months. He had never kissed a girl. His father was Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, and he had traveled beyond shadows to find them. He was close. He would rescue them.
That was true. That was reality. Luke was not a 19-year-old Jedi Knight and fighter pilot currently crawling through the ventilation ducts of a foreboding ship called the Executor while Darth Vader, a man he had once considered his father, hunted him like an animal. And while Anakin was no longer the half man, half machine monstrosity that his former master had created in some now defunct timeline, Luke had to continually remind himself that he also wasn't the dark Force god that ruled mercilessly in Abeloth's concocted reality either. The galaxy had not fallen underneath the yoke of harsh tyranny once again. Luke's mother was not dead.
She had not been killed by her own husband when she attempted to escape his unhinged autocracy and liberate her children from beneath his yoke. His sister had not followed in their mother's footsteps to become the leader of a small rebellious faction determined once and for all to find a way to vanquish the eternal dark lord who ruled their galaxy with an iron fist. His family had not been fractured beyond repair. This wasn't his reality at all, but one that had been manufactured by Abeloth. It was what she wanted him to see. Luke repeated those truths to himself again and again, even as that fictionalized life closed in all around him like a suffocating vise.
Not yet, Luke Skywalker. This is what could be…what will be…
The portentous warning rang in his ears, and he couldn't completely dismiss Abeloth's words as outright lies. Inevitably, the possibility that it might all be true or, at least, come true, came rushing forward. After all, knowing all that he did, it was a plausible conclusion. Further, it was difficult for Luke to convince himself that it was all an illusion when his grief over his mother's death felt so visceral and the adrenaline strumming steadily through his veins was real and the heavy, thudding bootsteps that echoed just beyond his hiding place were real too. He didn't know if Abeloth was playing some horrible mind trick or if she was truly giving him a glimpse into a very true, very grim future.
As he carefully inched his way through the narrow ducts, the situation became more and more real to Luke, until finally it was the only reality that he could perceive. He could only register the intense claustrophobia and the rhythmic thudding of his own heart. He was acutely aware that somewhere beneath him, Darth Vader was combing the corridors for him with meticulous efficiency. Luke had the vague sense that Vader was toying with him.
He was certain of it when Vader crooned in a soothing tone that was almost soothing and fatherly, "Luke, Luke…there's no need to hide yourself from me."
The reassurance almost solicited a loud, dubious snort, but Luke bit it back for fear of giving away his location. His mental shields were holding for now, however, Luke recognized he would be unable to rely on them for long. Vader would rip through his defenses with ease soon enough. His best hope was to take him by surprise. Luke had no hope of killing him. Distraction was his aim. If he could keep Vader disorientated long enough, perhaps he would have a prayer of escape.
Luke waited patiently for Vader to move into place, careful to keep a strict visual on him through the lattice grate of the vent. He gripped the hilt of his lightsaber tighter and slowed his breathing. He waited until Vader was directly beneath him before he pounced, descending from the ceiling above like an avenging angel. He swept his lightsaber in a wide, controlled arc as he did so with the full intention of removing Vader's head if he could. Before he could completely execute the blow, an invisible force slammed into him hard, and he went careening into an adjacent wall with enough impetus to damage the digital control panel which controlled the blast doors. It sparked wildly as he slumped to the ground and Vader came to stand over him.
"Did you really think I didn't know you were there the entire time?" Vader asked, "There is nowhere that you can hide from me, Luke."
Luke glared up at him defiantly. "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" he spat.
"That is not what I want."
"Really? You said the same thing about my mother and look how well that ended!"
He was suddenly held aloft several feet in the air, slammed back into the short-circuiting control panel and pinned there. The sparking control panel dug painfully into his back and blistered his skin. The sickening smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. Despite the searing pain, Luke refused to flinch as Vader shoved his face close, his eyes a sick, fervid yellow, his once handsome features twisted with rage, ravaged fully by the dark side.
Vader snarled, "You will never speak of that woman again! She was a traitor and liar! We are better off now that she is gone!"
"She was my mother. I loved her. I still do."
Without warning, Vader's demeanor changed, becoming almost kind and compassionate. "I can take that pain away from you, my son," he whispered, "I can make you forget." He lifted his gloved hand, as if he meant to caress Luke's face. This time Luke didn't bother to conceal his repulsed wince. He glared at Vader in open disgust.
"Don't ever touch me!"
"She turned you against me," Vader growled, letting Luke drop to the floor in an unceremonious heap, "She turned you both against me!"
"Did Mom really do that?" Luke challenged angrily, "Or did you?"
"I have brought peace and order to this galaxy. She would have destroyed everything I worked to build! I saved everything! I protected everyone, including you and your sister!"
"You enslaved the galaxy," Luke uttered wearily, "And you don't care about me or Leia. We're possessions to you!"
"It doesn't have to be this way, Luke. Join me and we can rule this galaxy together. I wish to share all that I have with you."
"I don't want it!" Luke paused, swallowing past the swelling lump in his throat before he added strongly, meaningfully, "And I don't want you either."
"You will yield to me, young one," Vader told him softly, "Or you will die."
Luke struggled to his feet and ignited his lightsaber, his jaw set with the same stubborn determination that characterized Vader's. "Then I will die."
Only a few feet away, Leia was embroiled in a nightmare similar to her brother's. Only it was one that she had already seen dozens of times before but now it had crystallized into something else. She wasn't only seeing the future this time, as if trapped behind some invisible wall. She was living it and enduring all of the terrible emotions that came with it. She was seventeen years old, the tenacious leader of an entire resistance movement, and her family was gone.
Her father had been lost to her long before she was born. Her mother was dead. Luke was dead. Ben and Ahsoka were dead as well. Only she remained. And now she had been captured. The monster responsible for ripping them all away stood within inches of her. The fury and seething hatred she felt could barely be contained.
She didn't have a prayer of defeating him, and she recognized that. He was too powerful, too omnipotent, too unrestrained. He was an unstoppable force in the galaxy with no one to check his actions. He had vanquished all of his enemies. That was the reason he had been able to spread oppression and fear from world to world. That was the reason why, no matter how long or how far she ran, he always found her again.
Leia stood before him now, a prisoner in Force-dampening restraints, stripped of her lightsaber, blaster, and commlink but not in the least bit broken. She was the daughter of Padmé Amidala after all, regal queen, imposing Senator, and fierce military commander. No one would compromise her spirit or make her cower. She met Vader's burning eyes with mute impenitency as he circled her like a prowling animal. Leia didn't so much as shudder in his presence. She had no fear of him. Her rage obliterated everything in its path.
"You will not willingly reveal the identity of your secret contacts throughout the galaxy?" he prodded, rephrasing the question that he had already posed to her several times over.
"I have told you already that you are wasting your time, Lord Vader," she spat, "I will tell you nothing of my own volition. Whatever you learn, you will have to take!"
"You would prefer to be responsible for the death of thousands instead?"
"I am not responsible! You are responsible!"
His demeanor abruptly shifted from threatening to cajoling. "Leia," he crooned, "I wish only to bring peace to this galaxy."
"Peace in your estimation is slavery to others."
"Do you not have all that you require, child?"
"And what is that without freedom?" she challenged, "You destroy any who dare to oppose you! You cannot force respect and allegiance, Lord Vader! It must be earned…and you have not earned mine!"
Vader straightened, shadowed features almost thoughtful as he said, "You are correct. Loyalty cannot be compelled through fear alone. It must freely given…by choice. That was my misstep with your mother and with Luke. I failed to offer them a choice."
"I thought you did," Leia bit out mockingly, "Isn't your motto, 'Serve me or die.'? They chose the latter. I will do the same."
"I don't think you will," he murmured. He waved his hands, allowing the binds on her wrists and ankles to fall away. When his guards would have rushed forward in protest, Vader held up a hand to restrain them. As powerful a Jedi as Leia Skywalker was, she was no match for a Force wielding Darth Vader, and they all knew it. He turned his attention back to Leia. "Come, my daughter. I wish to show you something."
Leia bit down on the impulse to snap at him that she was not his daughter and never had been and instead obediently followed him to the helm of his massive ship. He gestured towards the transparisteel viewfinder and the sparkling expanse of space that twinkled beyond it. "Tell me what you see."
Out in the distance, like a speckled blue jewel in the backdrop of deep, black space, was Naboo. Leia glared at him. "Why did you bring me here?"
"This world has meaning for us both."
"It has meaning for me. Naboo is where my mother is buried…and my brother!"
"This is your last remaining tie to them both. This planet holds great sentimental value for you." Leia seethed, knowing very well that he was deliberately needling her though she said nothing. Her silence hardly mattered because he sensed her thoughts and emotions with incredible ease. "Yes, use your anger and your hatred. It will only make you stronger."
"Do you really want me to become stronger, Vader? I would destroy you in a heartbeat if I was able."
"You will not destroy me," Vader predicted arrogantly, "You will stand with me."
Leia was unable to squelch her embittered laugh in response. "You're as mad as they say you are."
"It is not madness to state a fact. I could destroy this planet and all of its inhabitants with a snap of my fingers," Vader said, "I have spared it for your sake. I allowed you to bury your brother there and gave you the time you needed to grieve his loss."
"How benevolent of you after you killed him!"
Vader smoothly sidestepped that accusation. "But my patience with you has worn thin," he continued, "Now, you must choose. There is no one to stop me from reducing Naboo to space dust…except you, Leia. Join me, daughter. Stay with me, and I will spare them all."
The words blended in her mind, resonating with Abeloth's cajoling whispers. This was her future. This was her fate. He would destroy everything, and she would be powerless to stop him. He would rip away her mother and brother and friends until she had nothing left, until she was reduced to little more than his pet, unless…
Bathe, Leia. Bathe in the pool, my child. Take my hand. Stay with me…
Leia didn't realize that she was extending her hand, yielding to that singsong invitation, until she heard Luke cry out, "Leia, no!"
She jumped, startled to behold the adolescent visage of her older brother, staring at her with wild, blue eyes. She stared back at him just as wildly, tripping over her own feet as she stumbled backwards. "No. You're dead," she whispered in disbelief, "Ben and I buried you in the forest."
"Don't let her get inside your head," Luke urged, "Don't believe her! None of this is real! None of it! I will not let this come true! Take my hand! Please!"
Wracked with indecision, fear and dread, Leia glanced from Luke's outstretched fingers to Abeloth's coiling tentacle and back again. Everything was so jumbled in her mind. She didn't know what was real anymore. But she was tired of feeling afraid and weak and foolish. She was tired of feeling alone. But when it was all stripped away, the lies and secrets and misconceptions, there had only been one person in her entire life that Leia could trust without reservation.
Her brother.
He had been her protector all of her life. Since she had been a little girl, Luke had been her rock. Her earliest memory was of being tucked in his protective arms. Luke would never allow anyone or anything to harm her. Leia believed that fundamental truth with all of her soul. She screwed her eyes shut and reached out to take hold of his hand tightly.
The instant she did, she felt Abeloth's howl of pure rage and betrayal quake through her. Luke was abruptly ripped from Leia's grasp as the scene from Vader's ship fell away, revealing the rocky caverns beyond shadows that served as Abeloth's private lair. She watched with a soundless scream as Luke catapulted through the air with stunning speed. He slammed hard into the cave wall with enough impetus to snap his body in two had his body been a physical one. As it was, he still rolled to the ground, unmoving. She wanted to run to him, but it felt as if her feet had been cemented in place. She couldn't even lift her legs.
Leia was struggling valiantly against her invisible shackles, dreading the moment when Abeloth would descend upon her when she heard, "You're going to regret that, Abeloth!" She glanced up to see her father standing at the mouth of the cavern with what could only be described as a murderous expression on his face. He was flanked on either side by Ben and Ahsoka. She would have liked to have felt relief over their abrupt arrival, but all Leia really felt was a heightened sense of panic.
Anakin, meanwhile, knelt alongside Luke to briefly access the severity of his injuries. He didn't fear that any lasting harm had been delivered to Luke. He could feel through the Force that his son was alive, but evidently, he had been placed into some sort of twilight sleep. Abeloth's aim hadn't been to kill Luke at all, but to silence him. She recognized that she would never be able to influence Leia successfully without neutralizing Luke first. Anakin could acknowledge that it was a smart move on her part…and a provocative one.
"Leia…" he said slowly, his eyes trained on Abeloth the entire time as he straightened, "I want you to step over to me now."
"I can't!" she cried, feeling as if she were sinking ankle-deep into some unknown muck, "I can't move!"
"You can," Anakin insisted, "But you need to trust me!"
Despite the urgency of the situation, Anakin could sense Leia's hesitancy and that was truly the thing that was keeping her rooted in place. She didn't trust him and that lack of trust wouldn't allow her to move. He had to resist the impulse to yank her towards him.
Abeloth was losing her grip. That much was clear to Anakin. He could feel it. The thrall that Abeloth wielded over her was waning. But Leia wasn't yet convinced that she didn't need Abeloth or the power she offered.
In a turn of dramatic irony, his daughter was standing in the same place that he had stood as a young man, filled with confused bitterness, and faced with the iniquitous choice of becoming a monster to save everyone she loved or trusting that the Force would decide the best outcome. Anakin had been barely 23 years old when he found himself at that crossroad, and he'd been unable to grasp the reality that the consequences of his decision would create a self-fulfilling prophecy. He couldn't expect that a ten-year-old girl would be able to comprehend the gravity of the decision that lay before her.
Obi-Wan and Ahsoka understood the gravity, however. Anakin could feel them pulsing anxiously behind him, battling the same inclination he'd had to run forward and snatch Leia to safety. But forcing her to their side would only make her more resistant to their help. Pointing out the fallacy in her thinking would only render her more obstinate. Anakin recognized that he needed to reason with Leia, and he needed to be careful in his approach. He didn't dare compel Leia to do anything she didn't want to do, but he was very focused on keeping Abeloth restrained. She might be able to influence Leia mentally, but he wasn't going to allow her to lay another tentacle on his child.
With Abeloth controlled, Anakin focused on his daughter. Instead of berating her or growing impatient with her, he made a concerted effort to empathize with her feelings. He needed to walk in her shoes so to speak, to see the situation as she saw it. Not surprisingly, that wasn't difficult for him to do.
"I've been where you are right now," he whispered to her softly, "I know what it's like to be so scared that you cannot move or even breathe, to imagine that if only you could have enough power, you would never have to feel that way again.
"But that fear will not go away, Leia. It will grow bigger and stronger until you turn into something ugly, something you never wanted to be."
"That's you!" she retorted, tears welling, "That's what it did to you! But I'm not you! I'm trying to stop you! I'm trying to be good!"
"And you don't think I wanted the same?" Anakin ventured gently, "I know that Abeloth has shown you things and told you things that are beyond terrifying. You feel like it's all on you to fix it, but it's not. She has shown me too. Visions that frighten me and make me feel alone. But I didn't give in to her because I've walked this road before, and I know where it leads."
Her belligerent expression crumbled as the sobs she had been fighting to contain started to burst forth. "You…you did t-terrible things…" she wept, "You're bad…you're a bad person…"
"You're right. I was a bad person, but I haven't been that man for a very long time."
"You hurt my mom," she accused him gruffly, "and Ben. You destroyed everything!"
"I did do that, and I regret those choices so much…more than you will ever know. But you are in danger of doing the same, Leia. You will become the thing you hate and, in doing so, you will destroy everything you love too."
Fire flashed in her eyes. "That's not true… I'm not like you!"
"Search your feelings," he urged her gently, "You know that it's true."
Though she was reluctant to heed his advice, especially with Abeloth hissing at her not to trust, not believe, not to be weak and give into his silken words, Leia was compelled by the encouraging nods that both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka gave her. Even with all they knew, they still believed in Anakin Skywalker. They had so many reasons to distrust him and yet they didn't. Her family didn't. And that had to be enough for the time being.
Leia closed her eyes and the visions tumbled over her. She could see herself bathing in the Font of Power, the dark water sluicing over her and virtually feel its transformative effects upon her body and mind. Abeloth had not lied about that part. The Font of Power could and would grant her immeasurable power and foresight, abilities beyond her wildest imagination, even eternity. She would become a worthy match for a Celestial gone rogue. But she would also become something else…something obscene and inherently evil.
The fear that compelled her to bathe in those tainted waters would forever dominate her. She would become its slave and her determination to quelch that fear would utterly consume her, eating away at everything that was good and noble until there was nothing left. That was the future that Abeloth offered…darkness, destruction, and death.
When Leia opened her eyes and looked at her father again, her eyes were surprisingly free of the resentment and hatred that had hardened them for several weeks now. She now stared at him with something akin to pity…and understanding. Abeloth howled with Leia's realization, but Leia ignored her.
"Is that what happened to you?" she asked Anakin.
"It is," he replied, "But that doesn't have to be true for you, Leia. The Force will always provide an answer. You simply have to wait and listen."
He could feel her vacillation, not because she couldn't sense the truth now but because Abeloth's pervasive machinations continued to make her doubt herself and the Force. Anakin decided then to appeal to something that he knew that both he and his daughter had in common. Ego.
"You want to be better than me, don't you?" he needled her softly, noting the way her eyes flashed rebelliously at his words, "What could be better than recognizing at ten years old what it took me nearly my entire life to understand?"
"That would make me smarter than you," Leia pointed out, and Anakin could almost believe she was teasing him right then, "Not better."
Anakin was brimming with so much pride right then that he almost sobbed with laughter, but he knew the time for rejoicing hadn't yet come. Instead, he whispered gruffly, "Semantics." Encouraged by the subtle thaw in his daughter's demeanor, Anakin cautiously extended his hand towards her. "Will you come with me now?"
Though it felt as if it took several lifetimes, Leia finally nodded. Behind him, both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's relieved sighs echoed through the confines of Abeloth's lair. Anakin held his breath as she started to come towards him, almost sobbing aloud in relief as she tentatively reached her hand out towards him…the first teetering steps towards trust.
He extended his own hand to take hold of her only seconds before everything around him suddenly obliterated.