Chapter 37
The Son of His Works
Anakin emerged slowly from the healing trance. The first sensation he noticed was the chill in the air. Not the same as the morning chill of the desert—this was milder and more mechanical. The metal deck of the cargo bay vibrated beneath the blanket he lay stretched out on. He rubbed the crusty buildup out of his eyes and swallowed a few times. Healing trances always left him parched. The bay was dimly illuminated by nothing but red standby lighting. He hadn't bothered last night to look for the switch for the work lights.
He stretched cautiously. Everything seemed to be in working order. His thighs were stiff but no longer ached. He rose slowly, the various creaks and pops reiterating that he would need to do some extensive stretching this morning. Still, nothing hurt more than it ordinarily did and far less than it had during his years in the suit.
On the other side of the bay, Obi-Wan also got stiffly to his feet. In mutual silence they began limbering up their muscles. Once his blood was moving and he felt more alert, Anakin turned toward the hatch. He should find some water and something to eat, then check in with the men.
He was reaching for the control switch when the door whooshed open to reveal Chewbacca. Startled out of all proportion to the event, Anakin stumbled back a step. The Wookiee grabbed his arm. It was not often that Anakin faced someone tall enough to force him to look up to meet their eyes, but Chewbacca was one such being. The disorientation of it amplified his discomfiture. Awash in the red light of the cargo bay, the furred face stirred memories Anakin had been actively suppressing since the copilot had almost run him over the day before.
Blurred images, stained red by the lenses of his mask. Bold warriors fighting a hopeless rearguard action to protect the fugitive Jedi he was hunting. Dozens of sensitive, intelligent faces twisted with wrath, fear, and grief as his lightsaber sheared through flesh and bone. Blood invisible in his own personal, inescapable red haze. Sharp emotions, heightened by the constant pain in which he now lived. Fury at those who were prolonging the chaos of war when he had paid such a high price for peace and order. Hatred for the traitorous Jedi who had sought sanctuary on Kashyyyk. Insatiable thirst for vengeance against any who would oppose the Emperor's will.
The atrocities he had both committed and enabled in that campaign weighed on his conscience more heavily and vividly than many that had come after. Perhaps because it had happened early—only two months after his Fall. Later campaigns were swathed in the indifferent fog he had surrendered to once he had resigned himself to the realities of his new existence.
That he had set his feet on a better path now—that the Great Mother had offered him an opportunity to make restitution, however paltry it might be—did nothing to alleviate the guilt clawing at his mind and heart. Nor did the fact Chewbacca knew nothing of his true identity and the wrongs his people had suffered at Anakin's hand.
The torrent of memories and emotions had passed through his mind in an instant, even as the gyros in his legs struggled to find their center of balance. Chewbacca still grasped his arm and now he reached up to place his other hand on Anakin's shoulder, leaning down to peer into his face.
Anakin flinched away.
Carefully, Chewbacca released him, voicing a gentle question.
Steady on his feet now, Anakin turned vaguely toward Obi-Wan.
"He apologizes for knocking you over a second time."
Anakin couldn't make himself meet the Wookiee's eyes, but he nodded. "I'm fine. Did you need something?"
Chewbacca addressed Obi-Wan at some length.
Obi-Wan's face went blank before he bowed in time-honored Jedi style. "It is indeed true that the wroshyr tree has put out many shoots since Master Jinn and I assisted you and your father on Alaris Prime, Warrior Chewbacca. I confess that I did not recognize you; the years between have been very full, as I am certain they were for you. I do apologize for the unorthodox manner in which we arrived on your ship." He smiled a little mournfully. "Master Yoda told me of the Wookiees' courageous actions when the clone troopers turned upon him."
Anakin straightened to stare at Obi-Wan. He had forgotten that Yoda had been sent to Kashyyyk just before Order 66.
Chewbacca spoke again, gesturing beyond the bay hatch with what seemed a certain urgency.
"They had no choice, you know," Obi-Wan said soberly. "They could not resist the order from the Emperor. But it was not their fault, and they are reliable and resourceful. Their leader was my commander during the war."
Chewbacca tilted his head and his words held a more probing inflection.
Kenobi shook his head, with a sideways glance at Anakin. "I regret that I cannot answer that question. Our mission is vital, that is all I can say."
The Wookiee spoke again with intense sincerity.
"That is a generous offer. Truly. And I am certain your assistance would be an asset. But this is not a mission we can share. And now, if you will excuse me, I must speak with Commander Cody."
Chewbacca barked softly, but Obi-Wan shook his head.
"I cannot tell you that, either. I'm sorry."
Once the first mate had left, Anakin stepped close to Obi-Wan to say in an undertone, "He was asking about our mission? Is he a threat?"
Obi-Wan gave him a puzzled look. "No. He simply offered his assistance. He said that it would be his honor to aid in any endeavor that would draw two such important Jedi out of hiding."
Anakin's breath stumbled. "Two such Jedi?"
"Yes, he called you Knight Skywalker. It's not so very surprising—he did serve during the war. But I do not believe he will say anything even to his 'cub,' as he calls Captain Solo. He tells me the good captain is a skeptic of the first order."
"His cub?" Anakin's lips quirked at the absurd image the words suggested.
"Apparently, he owes a life debt to the man—Solo lost his commission in the TIE pilot corps for freeing Chewbacca from Imperial slavery."
Anakin's laughter died an abrupt death. It would help a little, perhaps, if there were even a shred of accusation in Obi-Wan's tone. But there was none. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, shame sweeping through him. The enslavement of the Wookiees had not been his idea, but he had willingly cooperated with Tarkin's plans.
Obi-Wan grasped his shoulder. "You cannot change it, Anakin. But you are trying to make things right. That is all you can do."
"I cannot make this right. Do you know what the Empire did to Kashyyyk?" Anakin ground out.
"Not in detail." Kenobi dropped his hand, and his voice was bleak with old ghosts. "But, yes, I am aware."
"I think he would kill me if he knew who I truly am. What I have done."
"Perhaps so." Obi-Wan hesitated. "I confess I do not know what you want me to say."
Anakin twisted away from him. "Oh, nothing. My guilty conscience isn't your problem. I just want to get to Alderaan and get on with it."
"Have you considered what we will do once you've seen Bail? How we will get wherever we need to go next—whether that's back to Tatooine or to some other destination?"
"Charter a ship, I suppose."
"We did not have a great deal of success the last time we tried that."
"Alderaan also isn't Nar Shaddaa."
"No, it's worse. It's a Core world—and you may have been recognized on Nar Shaddaa. What if you're recognized on Alderaan and word gets back to Palpatine?"
"Just get to the point, Kenobi."
"I realize this ship is not your first choice of transport—"
"Or my hundredth," Anakin muttered.
Obi-Wan took no notice. "—but the crew already knows our identities—to some extent, at any rate—and the ship has been reliable this far."
"Miracles have been known to happen."
"I simply propose that we pay Captain Solo a retainer fee to wait for a day in Aldera until we know whether we will need to charter it again."
"And you think he'll agree after his protests at the so-called hijacking?"
"I think money speaks very loudly to the captain and he will be happy to earn a little more from you. And perhaps you can consider the financial assistance something of a gift to this Wookiee. As—compensation. Even if given anonymously."
Anakin sighed and headed for the door. "All right, if that's what you want to do. But you're in charge of the haggling."
"Naturally. You only know how to haggle effectively in Huttese." Obi-Wan scurried out the other hatch before Anakin's half-hearted show of indignation could gather steam. Still—compensation and reparations. A dim idea stirred in the depths of his mind. Perhaps…
Anakin and Obi-Wan, with Artoo trailing behind, followed an aide dressed in the blue livery of the Royal House of Alderaan through the airy, elegant corridors of the palace. Captain Solo had indeed been amenable to idling a day in Aldera—for the nominal fee of another thousand credits, of course. At this rate, Anakin would be single-handedly funding the man's retirement. To reduce the possibility of their group being recognized, they had left the clones aboard the Millennium Falcon while they called on Bail Organa, and Obi-Wan had insisted on a brief detour to purchase clothing that was less military in its styling. They now wore plain tunics over trousers under short, hooded cloaks to shadow their faces and incidentally conceal their lightsabers. Anakin couldn't deny a secret relief when he reattached his weapon to his belt, although he certainly did not let Obi-Wan catch a hint of it.
The aide swung open the elaborately carved door, and they stepped into what appeared to be the Organas' private sitting room.
Anakin pulled up short. Obi-Wan, taken by surprise, caught his balance before treading on the other man's heels, only to stagger forward into him anyway when Artoo collided with the back of his knees. The droid trilled indignantly.
Anakin ignored the ruckus. "What are you doing here?" he demanded of the cluster of visitors seated on a pair of luxurious couches before the fireplace.
"May I suggest that we wait a moment to discuss the matter that has brought you here?" Bail Organa, standing next to his wife's chair, waved his hand in invitation.
Anakin tore his eyes from his former padawan to stare rather blankly at the senator. Behind him, Obi-Wan said, "Yes, of course. Forgive our poor manners, Your Excellency, Your Majesty."
Obi-Wan nudged Anakin, nodding toward Breha Organa who was dressed in a simple green gown with tasteful silver jewelry. Anakin, his attention still absorbed by the unexpected appearance of Ahsoka and the twins, jerked a bow as the aide closed the door. The Queen pressed a button on the arm of her chair. The lock snicked, followed by the whir of privacy controls engaging.
After a moment, Bail, also dressed simply in a brown doublet and leggings, smiled rather wanly. "You were saying?"
"I—ah—Forgive my disrespect, Viceroy. Your Majesty. I certainly did not intend to behave so rudely upon arrival. And thank you for receiving us on such short notice." The formal phrases shaped themselves on his lips by rote, their taste foreign after a year of speaking Huttese.
Bail lifted his chin a fraction. "In truth, I might not have received you on your own. However, since it was Master Kenobi who requested this meeting and Lady Tano has told me something of your recent activities, I decided to risk it. Have I fallen into your trap, with Alderaan to pay for my sins—Lord Vader?" His face was admirably expressionless.
Anakin inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. "I—Ahsoka told you?"
"No. I have known that the former Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader since the first Empire Day. Master Yoda informed me the last time I saw him."
"Yoda?" Kenobi stepped forward eagerly. "Do you know where he is? I have heard nothing of him since we parted at the Temple the day of the Purge. He never reached our rendezvous point."
Bail shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I delivered him to the entrance to the Senate building and waited in the area until the clone patrols threatened to arrest me. I watched for him from a distance, but I never saw him again. I thought you would be able to tell me the outcome of his confrontation with the Emperor." He nodded at Anakin.
"I did not even know of it until a few days ago. I regret to say that I do not know. I'm sorry." He looked away, then back at Organa. "You have known my true identity all these years. Who have you told?"
"No one. Not even my wife." Organa's tone bordered on the defensive.
Anakin waved his hand in a soothing gesture. "I have no intention of harming either of you. Quite the opposite, in fact. Although my presence here could bring you great harm if the Emperor ever learns of it, for which I am deeply sorry. No—I need your help."
"Our—help?" Breha's perfectly sculpted brows arched. "What could you need that would bring you to us?"
"Access to military-grade analysis equipment."
"Why seek this from us, Lord Vader, when you are well aware that Alderaan is demilitarized?" Breha's tone and expression remained unwaveringly neutral.
"Not Lord Vader, if you please. I left the title behind with my allegiance to the Emperor. My name is Anakin Skywalker."
"But I do not believe I care to address you as Knight Skywalker," she replied.
"Nor should you. I have forfeited the right to any titles I might once have claimed. Skywalker or Anakin is quite adequate. You ask why I have come to you. Because I know that Senator Organa is one of the founders of the Rebel Alliance and thus has access to the equipment that I need."
"That is a serious and unsupported allegation—Skywalker." Organa's entire demeanor communicated detached disinterest. "Alderaan has always maintained its loyal support of the Empire."
Anakin bit back the rash words that rose to his lips and offered an Ithorian olive branch instead. "I destroyed the records I found in my wife's office regarding the Delegation of 2000. Otherwise, I would have had ample evidence to arrest you at any time in the past eighteen years."
"I very much doubt you did that on my behalf—or for the sake of the other senators involved," Organa said drily.
"True. My wife's membership, had it become known, would have given the Emperor a weapon I did not wish him to have. Nevertheless, perhaps the fact that I cast no additional suspicion on you can serve as a provisional assurance that I will not betray you now when I am in need of your assistance."
"And why should you need access to this equipment?" Breha asked.
"Have you heard of the Death Star?" Anakin replied.
Organa hesitated. "Rumors."
"Death Star?" inquired Ahsoka.
Anakin had almost forgotten she was present. "It's a battle station that can destroy a planet."
The twins gasped.
"And Palpatine built one." Ahsoka's skin turned a muddy, mottled orange.
"Yes," Anakin said. He narrowed his eyes. "And why did you come to Alderaan, Snips, when I asked you to stay in Mos Espa?"
"I've done some work for Bail O. over the years. And I thought—"
"You did what? You were tasked with protecting my son, and you worked as an agent for the Rebellion?" Anakin stalked toward her.
Ahsoka stood and drew herself up to her full height. "Yeah, well, what was I protecting him from?"
The Queen rose, eyes wide, concern creasing her usually serene features.
"From me, blast it all to pieces!" Anakin and Ahsoka stood nose to nose. She had grown tall—their eyes were nearly on a level. "And what do you think I was doing while I commanded the Imperial navy, Ahsoka? I was hunting rebel agents. How could you have been so reckless with my son's safety?"
"Relax, SkyGuy," she said in the exasperated tone a parent might use to a recalcitrant child. "I wasn't an agent. I passed useful information to Bail and occasionally carried messages. It wasn't dangerous."
"Not dangerous! Do you have any idea how many messengers the navy picked up over the years?" He discovered his finger was pointing at her nose, and he was nearly choking on outrage at her casual attitude.
The Organas exchanged a look of consternation and took a step forward. Obi-Wan, stepping forward himself, gestured for them to stand back. After a moment's hesitation, they inclined their heads.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, "this bickering is wasting time. I contacted her from Nar Shaddaa at the same time I sent the initial request for this meeting to the Viceroy." He directed a frown at Ahsoka. "I did remind her to remain in Mos Espa. So why are you here, Ahsoka?"
"I figured I could help lay the groundwork for whatever you needed from Bail. And it's not like Tatooine is safer than Alderaan."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Ben." Leia nibbled her lip. "I told her you wouldn't like it, but she didn't listen."
"She said she wasn't going to stay in some boring old shop in the middle of nowhere when she could be helping," Luke added.
Anakin glared for another moment, then surprised himself by chuckling. "No. No, she wouldn't." He sighed, stepped back, and held out his hand. "All right. Pax, Snips? For—everything?"
Bail and Breha, looking a little stunned by the rapid shifts in tone, exchanged another considering glance. The Queen resumed her seat, and the Viceroy placed an affectionate hand on her shoulder.
Ahsoka hesitated warily before taking Anakin's proffered hand. "All right. Pax." She let out a gusty breath. "And, okay, maybe you have some reason to be upset that I worked with the Rebellion. I guess—I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn't stand by and not help."
"Well—I suppose it's old news now. And Obi-Wan is right—we're wasting time that we can't afford." Anakin turned abruptly back to the Organas. "So you know about the Empire's planet killer. We stole the schematics, but I don't have access to a computer powerful enough to analyze them. It will be a matter of days, if that long, until the Emperor knows we have the plans."
"I believe he may know already," Bail said ironically. "I received an official communication this morning that all pensions and benefits for clones on reserve duty have been suspended, pending an investigation into a treasonous conspiracy. That wouldn't, by any chance, happen to be your conspiracy?"
"I knew it," Anakin gritted. "That reckless, foolhardy stunt!"
Obi-Wan placed a hand on his arm in a calming gesture. "Was there any mention of Anakin—under any name? Or any hint of who the clones are working with?"
"No," said Breha. "So they are conspiring with you?"
"It's not a conspiracy," Anakin said. "I hired a few of them to conduct Jabba's assassination. When I decided to confront the Emperor, I asked if they were willing to help and they agreed. But it does not extend beyond our small group."
"Then why should the Emperor believe there is a conspiracy?" Bail asked.
"Not being privy to what he knows and doesn't know," Anakin said, "I can't say for certain, but one of them pulled a flashy prank when we stole the Death Star plans. The details are unimportant, only that it did leave evidence of clone involvement. I knew it would endanger them," he muttered.
"Is there anything to be done?" Breha frowned thoughtfully at her husband, but it was Anakin who answered.
"If you are willing to register a formal protest, Viceroy, it may at least slow down any more drastic steps the Emperor plans to take in regard to the clones." Anakin hooked his thumbs through his belt. "This changes little, really, except that it confirms time is very short. Will you let me use the analysis equipment?"
"Lady Tano tells us—and you seem to have confirmed it just now—" Organa said, "that you intend to kill the Emperor. Is that true?"
"Yes."
"How do you know you can succeed? If even Master Yoda failed."
"I don't. I only know I must make the attempt. My children will never be safe as long as he lives. But the Death Star must be destroyed first—preferably before it is operational."
"And how long will that be?" Breha asked.
"When I left the Empire, it was estimated the superlaser would be complete within two years. Artoo downloaded a report at Scarif that indicated construction has been accelerated over the past year, but there was no update as to the estimated date of completion."
Bail and Breha held a wordless conversation. "Can we see these plans?" Bail said gravely.
"Artoo, show them."
The little droid tilted back and projected the schematics. The Organas grew tight-lipped as the images scrolled past. After a bit, Bail waved his hand. "That's enough. We believe you." He leaned forward, expression flinty. "Very well—yes, I can provide access to a military-grade analysis computer. Understand—I am taking a great risk. Decisions such as this ought to be undertaken by the other members of the Alliance Council. If you betray my trust—"
"I will not." Anakin placed his hand on Artoo's dome and met Bail's eyes squarely. "This station must be destroyed. If it becomes operational, my children will never be safe from Palpatine. I will destroy it—and then the Emperor. You have my solemn vow."
Bail studied him a long time. At last he nodded. "I accept your vow. However, I must observe some safety precautions—just in case." He began to pace, ticking off points on his fingers. "I will not give you or General Kenobi the coordinates of the base to which I am sending you. I will provide a coded disk to Lady Tano. She already has Alliance credentials, and her ship's computer will be able to access the coordinates on the disk, which will be wiped as soon as they are entered. Furthermore—your children must accompany you to the base and remain there for the duration of your stay." As Anakin opened his mouth to protest, Organa lifted his hand. "This is nonnegotiable. I am taking a great risk with this action. Your children's presence will provide some measure of security that you will not betray us. I give you my word that they will be in no danger that you do not bring with you."
When Anakin sighed and nodded, Bail continued, "Lastly, General Kenobi must also accompany you. I realize that none of you will be willing to surrender your lightsabers, so sending two armed Jedi with you is the best I can do to protect my colleagues." He tilted his head in thought. "I suggest you do not make your former identity known; I doubt all the personnel at the base would respect any sort of immunity I might offer."
Anakin nodded again. "Very well. Your terms are acceptable. I give you my word that I shall not cause any harm to your people. And thank you."
"I am not doing this for you so much as for the good of the galaxy and the sake of my old friend. She trusted and believed in you, and I choose to trust her."
Anakin flinched at his words. Oddly, Bail's expression was not hostile, only curious, but Anakin did not know what to say. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
The silence dragged out for a long moment before Bail continued, "And now, I believe, we are finished, so—" He held out his hand to his wife, who rose gracefully to brush her skirts.
"If you wouldn't mind—" Anakin said quietly, "there's one more thing."
The Viceroy and the Queen paused.
Anakin paced to a large window that overlooked the palace gardens against the backdrop of majestic mountains. The late winter sunshine pouring into the room was warm on his skin. This was impulsive. Even reckless. He didn't know if Cody and the others would be willing to take this risk, let alone whether Chewbacca and Captain Solo would agree. And if the Emperor truly did know he had the Death Star plans, the mission might well prove to be suicidal. But he had vowed to free slaves. How much more was he obligated to free those he had had a hand in enslaving in the first place? And, as Obi-Wan had pointed out, even small gestures of restitution could have value.
"We're listening," Breha said.
Anakin turned his back on the magnificent view. "I want to free a band of slaves. Will you help?"
Organa and the Queen exchanged glances. "Slaves?"
"A group of Wookiees," he elaborated. "Tarkin used them to construct the Death Star's superstructure. I…" He wheeled back to window, although now his eyes did not take in the view. "You probably know what Tarkin and I did to Kashyyyk," he said softly, shame infusing the words. "Many of the slaves he captured went to the Death Star. Most of them died through the years—of overwork, malnutrition, mistreatment. But—when Artoo pulled the plans, he downloaded everything he could find about Project Stardust. And about eighty Wookiees are still aboard. I…" He stared unseeingly out the window for a moment. Then he paced back to stand before the Organas. "I cannot make restitution for all the things I have done, and this is a pitifully small gesture. But—if possible—I would like to evacuate them before I destroy the station."
Breha's face softened. "I see. We would like to assist, but I am not certain what we could do."
"Could you obtain access to a transport large enough to carry them?"
"I suppose so," she said slowly. "There is a mining operations center in the outer reaches of the system. We could probably requisition a freighter."
Anakin bowed. "That would more than suffice."
"Then—if there is nothing else—" She inclined her head in dismissal. "I believe it is indeed time to adjourn this meeting and set these things in motion."
A/N: I'm enjoying hearing what readers think of this story. It's such a delight when new comments pop up in my inbox, whether you're laughing over the dialogue or screaming about the cliffhangers or trying to predict an upcoming plot point. It's so much fun to connect with you. You are the best readers.
I'm also excited that the Han and Anakin sideshow has been such a hit. It was one of the most fun parts of writing this section of the fic. And I do love imagining how Anakin will react to Han and Leia flirting, but I have to be honest-that isn't going to happen in this fic. She isn't even 18 yet, and I really can't see Han and Leia's special brand of antagonistic courtship flourishing under both Obi-Wan and Anakin's disapproving glares. At least not until she's a little older and more worldly-wise. (Although I do picture them meeting eventually, sometime after the main story concludes. Maybe I'll write a meet-cute oneshot.) Anyway, I thought I should let you all know before anyone starts banking too much on the fireworks, and I hope I haven't dashed anyone's hopes irretrievably. But if I have, feel free to yell at me in the comment section. See you next time.