Sheev Palpatine's private quarters

Imperial Palace

Imperial City

Imperial Center

Sheev Palpatine, senior Sith Lord, Emperor of the known galaxy, put one leg into his steaming medicinal mud bath and squeaked in pain.

It was hot.

Hot hot hot hot hot hot hot!

After a few seconds, he carefully placed his other leg into the oozing slime and squealed again. Oh, oh, ugh, ouch!

He could turn down the heat, of course, and it would drop in seconds to a new, more comfortable temperature, but he was a Sith Lord, and Siths enjoyed pain.

Actually, that wasn't true, but he had given Darth Vader at least 896 lectures about how pain fueled the Dark Side blah blah blah. Various lies were useful in controlling his powerful apprentice, and this was one of his personal favorites. The truth was that Palpatine liked inflicting pain, but wasn't fond of pain attacking his own desiccated person.

Regrettably, he was old and wrinkled and Mace Windu had smacked him hard some 23 years previously, and he hadn't been in great shape since. Medicinal mud baths helped a great deal in keeping his skin more supple, and being enveloped in hot mud for an hour or two soothed his aching muscles more than anything else.

The Emperor sighed, gritted his teeth, and used the Force to slowly, carefully, lower himself into the mud. It was highly unpleasant in the short term, but it was worth it in the long run.

Ten minutes later, he was submerged except for his head, which was lying on the most comfortable krayt dragon leather pillow in the galaxy, and his body had adjusted to the heat. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relishing the peace of the moment.

Palpatine tried to focus on the darkness across the galaxy, which was more or less due to his machinations. He felt quite smug over what he had accomplished in a few short years; the fall of the Republic, the destruction of the Jedi Order, and the seduction of Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side of the Force. He had done more in thirty years than most Sith Lords did their whole lives! That reminded him that he needed to create a 'Sith Lord Hall of Fame', focused primarily on his own accomplishments.

He groaned softly and wiggled his legs, relishing the now comfortable heat massaging his aching feet. He had killed a couple of idiotic courtiers only a couple of hours ago, and while he enjoyed hurling Force Lightning around, he had not enjoyed being vertical that long. What was the point of being Emperor of the galaxy if you couldn't lounge around on your comfy throne all day, after all?

He was also worried. No, not worried. Anticipatory? Excited? Not ... not anxious exactly, surely not. Senior Sith Lords were not anxious.

But Darth Vader should have Skywalker in custody by now and yes, that was exciting; very very very exciting. Palpatine had plenty of spies on board the Executor, and he knew that Vader had tracked down Skywalker's friends and was using them as bait for a trap. He had no doubt the boy would rush to his friends' rescue; he was the son of Anakin Skywalker, after all.

Palpatine was less sure that taking the young man would go smoothly. Skywalkers were volatile and unpredictable. Bizarre happenstances swirled around them like a cloud. Still, the boy was not well trained and Vader was very powerful; surely he would manage to capture the fledgling Jedi, perhaps not in one piece, but alive. And then ... Palpatine grinned widely. Skywalker was like a low hanging jogan fruit, luscious and tasty and purple...

Not that Skywalker was purple, but it would be very fun to enslave the son as he had enslaved the father...

He leaned back further, closing his eyes, forcing himself to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out.

When he woke up exactly forty-three minutes later, it was with a gasp of shock and, yes, terror. Something was wrong, very very very very wrong. Was his palace under attack?

No, no, that wasn't it. All was calm around him, or at least inasmuch Imperial Center could be calm, filled as it was with billions and billions and billions of sentients.

No, the problem was...

No, it could not be...

It was!

The bond he had with his apprentice, Darth Vader, was gone. It had been torn asunder, it had been broken, it was like it had never even existed! How could this be?

/

Executor

Darth Vader's quarters

"So yeah, that took care of that," Luke Skywalker said happily from an upside down position. Yes, for reasons which Piett could not remotely understand, the male visitor from the future was standing on his hands in the middle of Darth Vader's quarters while a few random tools floated near the ceiling. "Now don't reestablish a bond with Palpatine, whatever you do."

"Do you imagine that I would willingly connect again with the murderer of my wife?" the Sith snarled angrily as he paced up and down, regally ignoring the hovering hydrospanner which danced coyly around his head.

"You might get furious enough to accidentally do it," Leia Organa suggested as she munched on a Wookiee cookie. "Just be careful."

"May I inquire as to our next step?" Admiral Piett inquired patiently, refusing to look at the Alter princess of Alderaan who was sprawled casually on a handy bench.

"Well, we are on our way to Kamino, which is a long way out beyond the Outer Rim, because they have amazing cloning technology. Father and I share genetics, obviously, and probably they can clone organs and work on his skin and lungs and all that. The sooner you are out of that suit, the better. Also, the planet is covered in water, which is more or less awesome."

"And the Princess?" Piett asked with a delicate tip of his head toward the woman.

"Not me," Leia declared, sitting up. "I would be willing, ordinarily enough, but I'm pregnant and not willing to do anything unnecessary medically. In fact, I am not sure why I am still here. Oh! Tingling toes. Luke!"

Skywalker was on his feet in a moment, his eyes wide with distress. "No! We can't leave yet. I need to..."

A moment later, Leia Organa disappeared in front of Piett's boggled eyes, but her twin remained.

"Ok, that's weird," the young man commented. "Usually we all come and go at the same time, but maybe the Force decided to have mercy on her since she keeps wanting to vomit. Leia would much rather be in bed. Ok, so yes, Kamino, here we come! We'll get you all fixed up, Father, and then you can kill Palpatine, and maybe even forge some kind of reasonable relationship with your twins."

Darth Vader's hulking form slumped a little and he said, a trifle piteously, "It seems too much to hope for. I tortured the princess, and cut off my son's hand..."

Piett watched with dilating pupils as the time traveler lurched forward to hug his Alter father enthusiastically. "There is always hope, trust me. Don't give up."

The admiral was aware of a slight hint of moisture in his right eye, and he slipped quietly away in the midst of a Father-sort of son bonding moment.

/

Docking Bay 63

Eriadu

2 days later

For the thirteenth time, Boba Fett glanced at the bottle in his left hand, and behind his implacable mask, he grinned in delight. It had taken two full hours of visiting bars to finally, finally find a bottle of Corellian brandy aged using radioactive waste obtained from the second moon of Corellia. It was a very popular brand, Corellian Quark, and Fett had no idea why it wasn't more readily available here on Eriadu. He didn't like this planet very much. It was all very well to say that it was the birthplace of the late, and his view, unlamented Governor Wilhuff Tarkin. Fett didn't care a lick about that – he wanted his favorite alcoholic drink, and it shouldn't take a few hours to find it.

But he had it now and he slumped in relief as he signaled for the ramp of his ship to lower. He never took off his helmet in public unless he had no other option. It was far better for people to see him as a faceless menace plus the helmet protected his brain. Lots of people were gunning for him, after all.

But within the Slave 1, he was safe. He strode into the main chamber, closed the ramp, and took off his helmet with a deep, happy sigh. Without a doubt, Mandalorian armor was amazing, but the helmet was heavy and his neck often ached. Plus, he was sometimes a little stinky when he had been wearing the armor a lot. It wasn't like he could take showers often given that he was running around shooting people and wreaking havoc most of the time.

Anyway.

Fett quickly found a (mostly clean) glass in the galley and poured himself a large dollop of the brandy, which he threw down his throat. It burned like the sand dunes of Tatooine, like the flames of Mustafar. It was exquisite.

He poured another glass and sauntered towards the cargo hold, where Han Solo awaited to be presented to Jabba the Hutt. Fett could not help but feel a great deal of satisfaction; Solo had proven extremely difficult to capture, and being the bounty hunter to bring him in would be another scalp on his belt. And he was going to come out of this downright rich; Vader had paid him, and Jabba would pay him, and he wouldn't need to work for at least six months.

He had rather expensive tastes, unfortunately; a normal person would probably be able to live off the credits for years, but he was not, and never had been, normal.

The door to the cargo hold slid open and Fett stepped in with a smug smirk, which quickly morphed into horrified rage. There was a hole, a hole, in the floor of his precious ship, and the Han Solo slab was quite gone.

/

Millennium Falcon

En Route to the rendezvous point of the Rebel Fleet

The slab holding Han Solo began to glow and gleam and redden and the crew of the ship stood anxiously nearby. Within a minute, the carbonite had melted sufficiently to allow the man to topple forward out of his metal prison into the arms of his Wookiee copilot.

"Chewie?" Han gasped, clutching his best friend's fur frantically. "Chewie, is that you?"

Chewbacca roared in a comforting tone and Leia, her eyes brimming with tears, said, "We're all here, Han. You are safe."

"Leia? Leia!"

Luke felt a great weariness overcome him, one of relief mixed with physical pain mixed with trepidation of the future, and he wobbled slightly. A moment later, his alter's wife had her arms around him, and she directed him firmly back to his bed. "You need rest, Luke. Solo is fine, as you can see – now back to bed with you."

Skywalker did not resist, not that he imagined resistance would be useful in any way – his future self's wife was obviously a force to be reckoned with. He staggered through the door into his cabin and collapsed on the bunk bed. Mara tucked him firmly in bed and dimmed the lights with the Force. "Go to sleep, Luke," she instructed, taking a step toward the door.

"Wait, please."

She turned back. "Yes?"

"How...how did your Luke stay ... sane with this...this..."

Mara sighed and sat down on the bed and patted the young man's left arm. "You need to give it time. My Luke has had ten years to come to terms with his father's crimes and legacy. You learned the truth a few days ago. Take time to grieve and mourn and yes, be angry."

"I worry about the anger," the youth admitted, shifting restlessly. "I mean, my father..."

"Is filled with anger, yes, but I think, based on my interactions with the younger Anakin and Vader, that the problem was that he didn't process his anger and, more than that, his fears, in a useful way. That was largely the fault of Obi-Wan and Yoda, by the way. By all means, let yourself get mad, Luke Skywalker. Your father and Obi-Wan and Yoda all screwed up, royally. The latter should never have let you run off to Bespin without telling you the truth."

Luke groaned aloud. "I totally agree. What did they think was going to happen?"

"Well, they thought Vader wouldn't tell you, of course," Mara explained. "Truth is that Vader really ... 'loves' is an awkward emotion for a psychotic Sith Lord, but he does love you, and he is totally obsessed with you. He gets very attached to people, you see, and he didn't know about Leia so it was all you."

"You think he knows now?" Luke asked fearfully.

"Oh, I would think so," Mara declared cheerfully. "I am sure my Leia gave him an earful. Now don't worry, get some sleep, and trust me, it'll be all right...and my toes are tingling. Good-bye, younger Luke, and good luck."

Luke Skywalker watched in awe as Mara disappeared.

/

Kamino

Med Bay

Three days later

"Bye Father!"

"Where do you think you are going?" Vader demanded, trying to sound intimidating but failing completely because his helmet was off and his voice was a mess...

"Back to my time. Toes tingling. You are good now; I donated enough bone marrow and blood and other useful DNA that..."

The older Luke Skywalker disappeared.