Korriban, the Outer Rim, 15 standard years ABY (After the Battle of Yavin)

A thick, dusty mist hung over the plateau. Dense, reddish sand polished the rocks and stirred the dry branches, which creaked in the wind. It was freezing, the sun setting, just as an X-Wing starfighter made its first landing maneuvers on a rise, one of the few high grounds where sunlight still touched. The hull was torn, a little faded, but it gleamed in strong orange hues where the light hit it. The cockpit opened shortly after landing, and a figure cloaked in a robe descended, accompanied by his astromech, which was now beginning its descent as well. The little robot erupted in a series of frantic beeps, shaking and rattling its plating.

"Rhhhht! Boohp! Boohp!"

—I agree, R2 —said its owner. He took off the hood of his robe to see better. Luke Skywalker had aged little in recent times, but the events of the past few weeks had left him haggard, languid, with his skin clinging to his cheeks and sinking into his eyes. His lips were dry. The cold of Korriban would do nothing to improve his condition. He still looked at the horizon and then a little lower, at his feet, and a few steps beyond, at the rocky chain of grottoes and caves, the ruins around. He was sure it was the right place. R2-D2 weaved between his legs and didn't let him walk in a straight line. It was difficult for him to see even with binoculars. Time and earth had destroyed almost everything that remained of the construction, and unless one looked very carefully, it was almost impossible to notice that there had once been a temple there. He wondered how he had come so far, from one end of the galaxy to the other, to such an unexpected place.

"Rhhht!" R2-D2 squealed, this time louder than before.

—I know, I warned you. We won't find charming places. But I have to do this —the last sentence was more for himself than for the robot. Luke walked downhill with a lost look. R2 wanted to follow him, hesitant, but the sun was already setting behind the mountains. The night on the plateau would not be pleasant for a small astromech. The robot took off shortly after his owner, on a direct path to the mouth of a nearly collapsed cave. Luke had to stretch his neck to get a better look as he arrived, and see the rock edges and carved columns. There were runes throughout the construction, he recognized them for a moment. It was a very ancient Sith language, beyond his knowledge. If there was any warning written there, he wouldn't be able to read it. He took two steps inside, the cold air brushed his back and pulled his robe inside and its engulfing darkness. And despite having gone through many horrifying things in his life, nothing could take away the sting of entering an old Sith temple, and this was not the first. He thought to himself that it would be the last, or so he hoped. R2 followed him, a few meters behind, had turned on the flashlight. After walking for a long time, almost in complete darkness, Luke decided to take his own flashlight and illuminate the walls. He didn't need the light to move forward, as the Force guided him, but seeing what was around him would help clear his mind a little, give sense to those strange fluctuations in the Force, the same ones that had brought him there, if it wasn't for his own selfish whim, as Leia had called it. The walls were nothing but collapsed rock on both sides. Suddenly, a sound startled them. R2-D2 jumped, and for a moment Luke had put his hand on the hilt of his saber when, a little calmer, he dodged the touch of a flying creature that passed over his head.

—Calm down R2, they're just shyrack bats —said Luke, getting up. The beasts fluttered a little more over them and finally left. The commotion had left the astromech spinning in circles. Too much stress in a week.

They walked further into the second chamber of the cave, much larger and winding. There were some stalactites and tunnels far and wide, which resonated with the echoes of their footsteps. Luke seemed disappointed, slowed down, about to turn around and go back when something reflected the light of his flashlight and he had to stop in his tracks to look. R2-D2 bumped into him in a slight distraction. She said something in binary language, a question, but Luke didn't pay attention to her. He had his eyes fixed ahead, static, it seemed like he had been frozen in carbonite. As he shone better, he saw the distinctive reflection of the hull of a starfighter, scratched, in black and silver tones. Taking a closer look, he could see the wings, hexagonal, the round cockpit in the center. A TIE, not exactly the model designed by Sienar, rather a TIE Advanced, customized, unmistakable. The last time he had seen it was on his radar screen, setting off all alarms, chasing him at a terrifying speed as he tried with his squadron to destroy the Death Star in the memorable Battle of Yavin. It was his father's fighter. He couldn't be mistaken. Of all the things he expected to find, this was certainly a surprise, a rather unpleasant surprise he had to admit. It was difficult to shake off the feeling of panic when seeing the ship for the first time, but he was used to these things already. Fear and bad memories suddenly turned into curiosity. What was it doing there? He wondered. Luke walked slowly to the fighter, reaching out to touch one of the panels on the left wing. The touch felt strange.

—I thought it had been destroyed —said Luke, his voice trembling for a moment. He thought about something. He wasn't sure what caused that memory or how he should remember it. Should he let it affect him? Or should he be colder and just analyze the state of the ship? His more childish side told him to fly it back to Coruscant. Leia would be thrilled, he thought sarcastically. A noise alerted them. Before he could take a step, Luke dodged a blaster shot aimed at his head. He jumped away, agitated, grabbing his saber and igniting it. A flashing light illuminated the cave and tinted the rock and Luke's face green. He stood on guard. From the highest part of the cave descended a figure covered in black robes. She looked human; she covered half of her face with a black silk headdress.

—You shouldn't touch what isn't yours, boy —said the figure, still pointing the blaster at him.

He was surprised by the voice, it was strong and threatening, but the tone was fresh and musical, undoubtedly a woman. Luke felt offended by the accusation.

—What's not mine? What do you know?

—A Jedi? —the attacker observed the saber. For a moment, he thought he heard her laugh when in a subtle movement she holstered the blaster behind her back and in another imperceptible maneuver took a lightsaber hilt and ignited it with a bright crimson blade. Now he could see her face better, still covered by the fabric. Her gaze was full of hatred. For a moment, he felt the Force shake his senses. He didn't expect to encounter a Sith in this place, especially after all the stories he had heard. This was worse than he had imagined.

—Who are you? —said Luke. But far from getting his answer, he was struck by a violent attack from his enemy's saber. Both blades clashed together in a green and red lightning, blending in the shadows, in an unrelenting dance that lasted several minutes. In a struggle, Luke clashed against the warrior's defenses, fighting in a struggle that Luke was slowly winning. The warrior stopped for a moment to look at her prosthetic hand, illuminated by both blades. Luke made use of his senses. He took advantage of the moment to seek answers in the Force. If she didn't tell him who she was, he would find out on his own. When he tried to delve into her thoughts, a wave of strong emotions hit him. She, for her part, was perplexed; she had done the same with him and the result had been similar. Luke jumped back, away from her for a moment, dizzy from the rush of emotions that had invaded his body. The girl had stayed in her place. She had felt it too. Luke cursed himself for being so easy to read, something he had never been able to learn to remedy. But apparently, he had managed to stun her.

—You... —she said. For the first time, she had removed the fabric covering her face. Luke saw her, still in shock, with her tightly tied ponytail, her chestnut locks, her blue eyes. He would swear he had seen her eyes moisten.

—You are Luke —she said, with a broken voice, very different from what he had heard a moment ago. Luke opened his eyes, bewildered. R2-D2 also squealed in surprise. He had hidden behind a rock during the battle. Now he illuminated both of them with the flashlight. They looked at each other in astonishment. Each wanted to speak first, but the words died in their throats. The woman extinguished the crimson blade and hung the saber from her belt, turning around with evident heaviness, her gaze on the ground and a tired breath, but not from the fight. She hid her face against one of the wings of the TIE fighter. Luke wasn't sure if he should let his guard down just yet. It seemed like she no longer intended to attack him.

—Do you know me? —he said.

—You're his son —she said with a broken voice, on the verge of tears, a terrible suffering lurked within her. Luke could feel it, although she did a great job of putting up barriers, preventing him from seeing further.

The last thing he heard sent a shiver down Luke's spine.

—Darth Vader. You're his son, aren't you? —she said, this time turning around.

Luke didn't know how to respond; he still had the saber in his hand, although he no longer had any intention of fighting. Whether this woman was a Sith or not no longer mattered; he had come for answers, and that was all he wanted.

—How do you know? —said Luke, taking a step forward; he was sure he had blocked that information from his mind. R2 protested, distrustful.

For the first time, he saw her smile. A faint, sideways smile, a bit sad.

—Your expression, that angry look.

Luke was taken aback. When she saw his reaction, her eyes on the verge of tears, she finally burst out laughing. Luke had never felt so bewildered.

—It's a joke. Your hand —she pointed.

Luke looked at his mechanical hand and remembered for the first time in a long while how he had acquired it. In brief visual fragments, he replayed the pain, the agony, the fear. Now looking at it again, he had more doubts than before.

—He told me.

—He told you? —Luke exclaimed louder than he would have liked. The uncertainty was making him nervous.

Who the hell was this woman?

She gestured for him to follow her. Putting away the saber and ignoring R2-D2's tremors and whines, she walked behind her, climbing some rocks behind the TIE fighter. When he looked down, he saw that there was illumination and the construction of a small camp. The woman had sat down next to a dismantled lamp, enough to illuminate the entire area. Luke sat in front of her, a bit hesitant, looking around. There was a string of scattered parts and tools, some provision boxes, and other broken parts of some thruster or something similar.

—By the way, I'm Anthe. Anthe Malerion. I want you to know that I'm not a Sith, if that gives you any comfort.

—A little, yes. I'm Luke Skywalker.

—Yes —Anthe smiled at him again, looking back at her hands and at the battery box she was fixing, it seemed, for quite some time. —Sorry for attacking you; I thought you were a thief.

—That ship belonged to my father.

—I know.

Luke wanted to delve into her mind again. His attempt did not go unnoticed. Anthe looked at him warily. She was really good at hiding her thoughts.

—That ship is very valuable, kid; I'm not going to let you take it.

—I've come from the other end of the galaxy. That ship belongs to me by right.

—Perhaps, but you can't take it.

—It's the last thing I have of him —they said simultaneously; the edges of the cave echoed the phrase everywhere and inside their heads. Perhaps there was another intention in each sentence, but that didn't calm the atmosphere; on the contrary. There was a pause.

They could hear R2-D2's groans behind them. The astromech was suffering trying to climb the small staircase that led to the camp.

—Look, I made a promise, and I've taken it very seriously. I won't let you take it if you don't understand what it means. It's been with me for years —Anthe said. R2 was making louder noises.

—I don't belittle his death —Luke finally said. His words hurt her. Anger briefly invaded her, and reaching out her hand, she took hold of the noisy astromech with an invisible grip, making it levitate a few meters towards them and releasing it abruptly next to Luke. Looking at the ground again, she let out a pitiful sigh. With a raspy voice, she added:

—Fine. Take it...

Luke wasn't as surprised by her change of heart as he was by her recent display. She was clearly a Force manipulator, and the way she had lifted R2 with such ease made him understand that she was an experienced user. For a moment, he felt her exuding a dark aura. He wasn't entirely surprised by that.

—If you manage to get it off, of course —Anthe added, standing up. She carried the newly repaired battery in her hand, heavy and awkward; it almost made her stumble. She climbed a ladder that led to the rear of the cockpit, to the open panel of the fighter, where the engine and the rest of the machinery were housed. Anthe began to replace one of the batteries, and it seemed that the work had been much more thorough than that. With his vast knowledge, he noticed that there were several parts to be replaced. The connection lasted just over a minute, and Anthe had already opened the upper hatch of the cockpit. With her hands at her sides, she jumped in and gestured for him to enter. Approaching was more difficult than he would have liked. Inside, Luke was distracted. That had been a hard blow. The rows of receivers, switches, and emergency lights momentarily blinded him. The design was typical Imperial, during Sienar golden era in the design of Imperial combat ships. The fighter, however, was subtly different. A little more spacious behind and with additions, the seat clearly larger, prepared for a much taller pilot; Anthe sitting in it looked smaller than she really was. The woman was activating the main computer, handling the dashboard and the side buttons of the yoke. Seeing her behind, he had a clear view of her hair, tightly tied in a ponytail and very exposed behind, a scar that ran from the base of the skull to the temple, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.

Some lights turned on and off as she performed the initial tests. Luke looked through the hexagonal glass and thought ironically about seeing everything from that point of view, from the other side. A tangle of strange sensations ran through him when he saw Anthe sitting there.

After trying several commands, she surrendered into the backrest of the seat, huffing.

—You see, after the fall of the Empire, many officers were hunted down, some executed. "I had to flee with the ship during the Battle of Endor and I got shot. I ended up hiding here, I tried to repair it a thousand times, but the spare parts are impossible to get, especially since this model was customized by Darth Vader himself. With some pretensions.

—It's a dual ion engine.

—Yes.

—Two blaster cannons... life support —Luke observed the interior and the control panel more closely. Anthe got up from the chair and let him investigate, watching his movements with amused curiosity. When Luke noticed the smile on her face, he immediately moved away from the chair and cleared his throat. The computer rejected all the commands he typed.

—It's a bit confusing.

—Tsk, tell me about it —Anthe snorted. She scratched her head, irritated.

It was very difficult for Luke to imagine what kind of relationship this woman could have with his father. He couldn't imagine anything other than the little interaction he had had with him, which had been violent and dramatic. He wondered who she was. Perhaps an Imperial sub-officer, a mechanic, a spy.

Luke remembered something. He sat down again and initiated a command with both hands on the controls. A beep sounded and all the lights came on, the ion engine started to hum in the cockpit, to the surprise of both.

—What did you do? — said Anthe, jumping in surprise. A broad smile had appeared on her face and Luke couldn't help but do the same.

Luke remembered an old command. The one he used to take off in his father's Lambda-class shuttle when they escaped from the Death Star during the Battle of Endor. The brief memory gave him a pang in the stomach. His instinct told him not to say it out loud. He lied.

—I don't know, I tried some combinations.

—It seems like you inherited some genius —said Anthe. It slipped out. The cockpit fell silent. Luke remained silent, analyzing her. He owed her many explanations, Anthe knew that.

—I was able to start the ion engine but it still won't be able to take off, it still needs repairs. I'll help you repair it if you give me some answers. Then we'll negotiate the fate of the ship. What do you say? —said Luke. There was no room for hesitation.

—You're right, you want answers and I'm willing to give them to you. It's not like my fate would change if you knew, I'm doomed.

They sat at the camp with a ceremonial peace. Luke listened very attentively. Sitting in front of her, analyzing her systematic somewhat calm movements as she broke off a piece of haroun bread with her hands and offered it to him. Luke held the food in his hands, the tea and the seeds. Part of his training as a Jedi Knight was to be patient, but for the first time in a long time, he felt that he couldn't stay still in front of her. He wanted her to speak as soon as possible. His head was overflowing with questions ranging from the unthinkable to the trivial. For a moment he got lost in her, in her face, her features. While watching her eat with a distant look, he noticed the lines around her eyes and mouth, which betrayed her age, although with little certainty.

—I'm 39, I'm not that old —she said gruffly.

Luke opened his eyes. She was very skillful, or she had good instincts. He didn't think it would be so easy to read the mind of a Jedi Knight, in fact, he knew very few capable of doing so. One, coincidentally, had been his father.

—That lightsaber isn't from a Sith.

—No —said Anthe.

Luke knew. The hilt had the classic design of Sith lightsabers; the crystal, not a kyber crystal, but a synthetic one, with the distinctive red color. But the piece was poorly finished, the lightsaber unbalanced, as he had noticed in their recent fight. It was a lightsaber built by a novice, not a Sith, rather an apprentice. Its bearer kept it hidden under her robe.

—I did my best, but it doesn't even come close to a real lightsaber. Yes, I studied the arts of the Sith, but you already know that. You don't seem very concerned —Anthe laughed, finally looking him in the eyes.

—No.

It wasn't about experience. It was more that curiosity overcame him. Luke had already left behind the ancient enmity between Jedi Knights and Sith, even being one himself. He was tired of war.

—Let's see, where do I start? —said Anthe, taking a breath.

R2-D2 approached them. Luke looked into the woman's eyes. A soul that opened up to him; he took his first step of true trust. Suddenly, they forgot about the cave and everything around them.

Hello! Nice to meet you. This story is my most recent work, and I have decided to translate it into English to expand my horizons to other readers who I hope will enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Reviews are a treasure for me, both for the plot and to guide me a little on grammatical issues. I hope to meet new Vader fans in this community. Greetings!

S.F