"Father, help me!" Luke Skywalker called out to his father, the notorious Darth Vader, as Emperor Palpatine electrocuted the former farm boy with his lethal Sith lightning. Darth Vader, formerly known in the past as Anakin Skywalker, stared at his dying son with mixed emotions. Could he really let his and Padmé's child die while he could do something about it? When he first agreed to be Palpatine's apprentice, this was not what he had in mind. Then again, he had also thought that his child—children as he now knew—had died at the same time as his wife, Padmé Amidala.
Luke continued to beg for mercy as he felt his life force slowly diminishing away. Pain blinded him, only the image of crackling blue lightning visible as the young boy desperately looked for his father through the haze. The Emperor was electrocuting him through his fingers, a feat which the young Jedi would've deemed impossible if not for the things he had seen through his years as a Jedi in training.
Thoughts of Leia's face as she begged him not to face Vader only moments before he left suddenly barraged his brain, his sister's soft, gentle features morphed into fear and worry. He thought of Han leaving the Ewoks' hut to find Luke up and missing, the Corellian's normally fearless attitude overcome with the gnawing panic of losing a loved one. Luke didn't want to leave them, they were his friends. However, he knew Leia would make it as a Jedi, it was in her DNA. With the thought of the Alderaanian princess donned in traditional Jedi robes and a saber ignited in her hands as she drove out Imperials to avenge her brother, restore the Republic and bring peace to the galaxy, Luke was finally able to find peace. His screams died down and he took in a shuddering gasp instead, sounding eerily similar to the wheezing of his father's respirator.
His father.
Before Luke could fully process exactly what was happening, the pain stopped. The masked menace that had terrorized the Rebellion for years reached over and plucked up the Emperor as if he was no more than a rag doll, the Sith lightning still flowing full force. But instead of shooting into Luke's crumpled body, it flowed into Vader, Palpatine's last attempt at revenge against the ultimate betrayal of his apprentice. Luke watched in shock as the ruler of the galaxy for over twenty years finally met his demise, tumbling down the seemingly endless shaft as Vader threw him over the railing with the last of his remaining strength. Luke was forced to look away as a blazing azure light shot from where the Emperor had fallen, the Force's balance shifting dramatically enough to cause a tremble in the entire galaxy as he died.
The louder than normal wheezing of a respirator broke through Luke's awe and shock as he realized his father was on his knees and gasping for breath, his one good hand shaking as it weakly grasped at the rail for balance. Temporarily regaining his strength, Luke stood on wobbly legs and limped towards his injured father as fast as he could. He pulled him up into his lap and winced at the horrid sound of his breathing. The respirator had to be damaged if the frantic beeping lights on Vader's chest panel were any indication. Slowly stroking the side of the helmet to reassure the fallen man, Luke still pondered, even now, what had happened that had caused Vader to need the suit in the first place. He had heard Ben's stories of course, but Ben's track record of telling the truth wasn't holding out well in his favor. After all, he had never told him that Vader was his father or that Leia was his sister.
Ignoring his own quivering lungs, Luke gathered his thin arms under his father's much bulkier ones and lifted upwards to his best ability. Grunts of effort pushed their way from his throat and his boots stubbornly pressed on the solid metal floor to help give him some traction. There was a garbled bit of noise from Vader's vocoder following what sounded like a moan, but Luke ignored it, knowing his father would be trying to protest moving him. They had to get off the station. Without medical attention, Vader would surely die. Ironic since Luke had always naively believed that the Sith was basically immortal due to his impossible feats of survival on the battlefield.
With one last push, this one with a bit of the Force behind it, Luke finally pulled Vader high enough to wrap the older man's limp arm over his shoulders. Luke squeaked in alarm as the entire weight of Vader collapsed onto his back, making a sweat break out onto his forehead. However, Luke's determination beat out his smaller frame and he dragged his father forward as gently as he could. The turbolift opened for the duo automatically, Luke using the wall of the contraption to lean Vader and himself against whilst they moved. Vader's helmet lolled on top of Luke's head, another wheeze and faint gasp of pain in full range of Luke's hearing. Biting his lip and casting nervous eyes towards his father, Luke fought the urge to cry out in relief as the lift door finally slid open. A ship was visible from his vantage point and he tensed his shoulders in determination. If they could make it to the ship and fly off, Luke could get medical attention for both himself and his father as soon as possible. It would be an interesting scene trying to convince the Alliance of Vader's trustworthiness, but Luke was determined on making sure his father lived.
Pushing Vader forward as much as he could accomplish, Luke couldn't help but think of how pitiful they must have looked as they limped together. As they got nearer to the ship, Luke suddenly noticed the officers and troopers scrambling around in a panic, not even bothering to cast a second look at Luke and Vader. The only reason the Imperials would be running around like that was if...the Rebels! How could he forget? They were still going to blow up the Second Death Star and his father and he were still onboard. A bit more frantic now, Luke allowed the adrenaline to kick in and practically dragged his limp father farther and faster. When they finally reached the ramp, Luke tugged upwards against gravity in the futile attempt to pull his father inside. Despite his efforts, his size worked against him and he abruptly collapsed from the weight overcoming him.
Almost on the brink of hyperventilation, Luke hurriedly turned Vader onto his back and began pushing him up the ramp instead, the metal of the suit sliding up the ramp with ease. He would've been triumphant if it wasn't for the sudden grip of a hand on his wrist, the robotic limb squeezing tight in order to grab Luke's attention. Blue eyes shot down in surprise only to find Vader's ocular lenses staring emotionlessly up at him.
"Luke. Help me...take this mask off." With his life force draining, all Vader could think of was how he had never actually seen his son. He was too weak to carry on and he knew the Alliance would rather die than treat his injuries. The least the Force could do was grant him just a bit of time.
Luke's eyes widened as he took in his father's words. "But you'll die..."
"Nothing...can stop that now," Vader whispered with guilt and regret laced in his mechanical voice, it being the only thing making up for the lack of emotion in his masked face. "Just for once, let me...look on you with my own eyes." Was Luke truly blonde? Were those eyes as blue as he thought they were? The damned red tint to his ocular lenses was the biggest curse of all; he needed to see, he was running out of time. Why wouldn't the boy listen?
Luke took a deep breath, still in both physical and mental shock, and nodded. There was something about the pleading in his father's voice that drove him to comply. This was his final wish; Luke had to fulfill it. Pale, trembling hands curled around the black helmet and lifted the top part of it to reveal scarred, stark white skin.
Swallowing tightly, Luke braced himself to remove the facial part of the mask, the part which held his father's dying life support. Ever so delicately, Luke pulled back the mask, wincing at the needles pulling out from Vader's sun-deprived skin. To Vader's surprise, instead of recoiling, Luke's face instantly softened, his blue eyes crinkling as he stared at a living, breathing human, not a machine. The damage to the face was permanent and terrifying, but Luke had never been more grateful for this moment with his true father, the man underneath the metal. The same, child-like hands that had pried the helmet off gently brushed Vader's cheek before landing on his shoulder for reassurance.
"Now go my son." Vader's voice cracked on the last word, his breathing becoming more labored without his mask. "Leave me." Weaker and weaker...
Luke shook his head in desperation, hot tears brimming at his eyelids and blurring his vision. "No. You're coming with me. I'll not leave you here, I've got to save you."
"You already...have, Luke." Luke smiled wistfully. "You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister...you were right." Vader, no, Anakin, smiled one last smile, the scars on his face stretching right before his eyelids fluttered closed and his blue eyes, so similar to Luke's, rolled back into his head. A breath of release left Anakin's lips and he began to fall limp in Luke's arms.
"Father," Luke pleaded, grasping at the man's shoulders in a panic. Anakin fell slowly back onto the platform without hearing Luke's last desperate plea, his Force presence fading away into a world of ghosts he had left behind. "I won't leave you." Stray tears cascaded down Luke's face as he now stared at the corpse of the man who had blessed him with the gift of life. Luke let his head drop onto his chest as a heavy sob came blubbering out. His whole life he had wanted to know his father, and now he had achieved that dream—only to have said father die in his arms.
Sniffling, Luke struggled to keep his balance as the station rocked with yet another explosion. Swiftly, he finished dragging his father's body onto the ship and closed the ramp hatch. He started the ship with ease and familiarity and immediately began to direct it up and out, avoiding the explosion of the Second Death Star only seconds before it blew. He exhaled a long sigh of relief only to look back at his father's body in the back of the ship. He hastily wiped at a stray tear and focused back to his flying.
His fingers flew over the dashboard as he prepped the commlink and prepared to contact the Rebels to let them know he was alright. However, before he could even configure a message, a whispering of words drew his attention up towards the viewport.
Empty space greeted him, stopping him short. Where had all the ships gone? Was there not just a major space battle? Squinting confusedly at the stars, Luke also noticed that the moon of Endor was also missing. He hadn't accessed the hyperdrive, so there was no way he could've moved any further than the blast range of the Second Death Star.
Before he could think about it too hard, the stars began melting in front of his eyes, forming a pure white light and shooting out towards his ship. Luke covered his eyes and winced, ducking into his chair and holding tight to the crash webbing he had thankfully strapped over his lap. Had he not gone through enough at this point? Whatever was happening couldn't be good, that was for sure. Luke's hand shot out back towards the commlink, his finger opening the comm channel to anyone who might've been in range. He opened his mouth to relay his distress signal just as the star light engulfed the entirety of the cockpit and he blacked out, his head slamming against the commlink and effectively shutting off the frequency.
◂◂◂
You're either with me, or against me!
Only a Sith deals in absolutes.
I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over . . .
From the Sith! Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!
From my point of view, the Jedi are evil.
Well, then you are lost!
You underestimate my power!
You were the Chosen One! You were meant to destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!
I hate you!
You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.
◂◂◂
Luke groaned as he felt consciousness hazily approach him. He sat up slowly, his mouth dry and the ominous knowledge of no longer being on the ship he had taken off in settling firmly in his gut. He wasn't exactly sure where he was now, but the Force seemed to be whispering excitedly in his ear, urging him to become more aware of his surroundings and follow its guidance. A small part of Luke hoped that his ship had simply crashed onto the surface of the forest moon and that the Rebels had found him and brought him in. However, the normal hum of a medcenter was missing, and instead of the bustling of busy med-droids, Luke heard the faint, familiar sounds of warships echoing through his ears. At first, he thought nothing of it, thinking the Rebels were still dealing with surviving Imperial troops, but something still felt...off.
Succumbing to the Force's will, he let his eyes fully open, only to see four unfamiliar faces staring down at him in a mixture of emotions, the predominant ones being confusion and shock. Based on the way they were looking at him, Luke figured that he had been sitting there with his eyes closed for a good few minutes, most likely looking a few starships short of a fleet. All he knew was that these people were definitely not medics and that he was nowhere near Endor or the Alliance fleet.
Wonderful.
The two men standing directly before him caught his attention first, the both of them holding unlit lightsabers in their hands and wearing Jedi robes that Luke had thought had been lost to history. Due to the Jedi purges, all Jedi had had to go into hiding, lest they be killed by one of the Empire's infamous inquisitors. To be caught wearing the robes of the old Order was basically a warrant for death. Why would these two men risk wearing them in the first place?
Despite the obvious out-of-place style of the robes, Luke still stared at them in curiosity, noticing how one had black fabric and the other tan. He had hoped, maybe, if the Rebellion was successful in defeating the Empire one day, that he could somehow recreate all the old Jedi Order's ideals, from the clothing all the way to the final brick of the Coruscanti Temple. That one day he too would wear the same robes he was staring at right now.
The man in the black robes was the most intimidating of the two and had shoulder-length, blonde-brown hair. A scar ran down his right eye, and the bright blue of the irises strongly contrasted against the dark of his robes. Luke swallowed at the glare emitting from the haunted eyes that looked disturbingly familiar. Luke quickly focused instead on the man's right arm which was obviously prosthetic under his bulky black glove.
The other man in Jedi robes had auburn hair and blue-gray eyes that were much calmer than his companion's. He was also sporting an auburn colored beard and a curious, raised eyebrow as he adjusted his grip on his saber and tried hesitantly to remove himself from his startled stupor created by Luke's sudden presence. His movements triggered reactions in the other two men in the room, Luke almost forgetting that they were there altogether due to his fascination with the obvious Jedi Knights standing before him. These other, obviously older men, were far less revealing about their emotions and seemed to radiate a negative energy that made Luke shudder lightly. The man standing beside the two Jedi held a red lightsaber and had bright white hair with a paired beard. The second was sitting in a chair, his hands bound with stun cuffs, and sporting a similar hair color to the man with the red lightsaber. If Luke didn't know any better, he would say he had interrupted the beginnings of a lightsaber fight, a rescue of some kind.
Oops.
Luke took a deep breath, preparing to make up a story on the spot just as the Force signatures of the Jedi in front of him struck him, making him blanch. It couldn't be possible, but the Force rang true with his horrifying realization. The auburn-haired man was Ben! Ben Kenobi, the hermit that had lived in the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine for nineteen years until Luke's aunt and uncle died and he had told him of his father having been a Jedi, not a navigator on a spice freighter, henceforth changing Luke's life forever.
Speaking of his father, Luke couldn't help but feel the warm tears appearing at the edge of his eyes as he stared at the other Jedi. The blonde man had the bright and loving Force signature of none other than Anakin Skywalker himself, the same man that had literally, only seconds previous, died in Luke's arms. Luke couldn't believe his eyes.
"Jedi reinforcements, I presume?" the man with the red lightsaber said with a raised eyebrow, finally breaking the tense silence. "I must say I'm impressed that you actually managed to surprise me for once."
"No. I'm afraid he's not. Who are you?" Ben asked Luke, his voice drenched in suspicion and skepticism.
Wait, his real name is Obi-Wan, Luke thought. But why was he so young? And why was his father so young? He couldn't wrap his head around any of his situation, wondering for a brief second if his ship had simply blown up on the Second Death Star and he hadn't escaped after all. If that was true, then was this some weird Force afterlife showing him his father and mentor in their youth?
It made no sense for him to see any of this unless the Force had sent him—
No. That's not possible.
"Uh..." Luke trailed off, words failing and simply flowing from his mouth as indecipherable sounds.
"How could he be a Jedi? He has no lightsaber," Anakin said, looking at Luke with distaste and annoyance.
Luke was about to protest that he did have a lightsaber, but when the memory of him throwing it to the side to prove a point to the Emperor flashed before him, he stifled a groan. That really hadn't been his smartest move.
"Master Jedi. Not that I'm not as confused as you are, but are we not in the midst of battle?" the old man in the chair asked. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan's heads jerked up at the man's voice and they instantly regained their composure in realization. Jedi didn't get distracted, yet here they were focused on a random young man who had appeared out of thin air only seconds before they were to apprehend Count Dooku, the Separatists' main leader. If it wasn't for Dooku's own visible bafflement, they would've thought the man was a distraction from the Sith. But the Chancellor was correct; they had more important things to deal with at the moment.
"Right, of course. Our apologies, Chancellor." Obi-Wan cleared his throat, finally turning back to Dooku. "As I was saying, Sith Lords are our speciality." He shared a smirk with Anakin and cast one last glance at Luke right before the duo's lightsabers ignited and they were lost in the whirl of color.
Luke had been forgotten in an instant as the two Jedi attacked the old man without relent, their form and technique sending Luke into awe. He had only seen Ben fight once, but he had been much older then and not as deft and agile as he had been in his young age. Watching now as the man spun and parried alongside Luke's father, all of Luke's confidence in his own ability faded away in a cloud of inspired jealousy and insecurity. The Jedi duo worked together like a machine, never missing a beat and completely in sync with one another as they anticipated every move and engaged the Sith with practiced precision and a lack of fear. The perfect soldiers.
The battle raged on and Luke's attention was limited to the moving sticks of light, therefore delaying his senses by a few seconds. Once he finally felt the faint, odd feeling of being studied, he glanced up from his sitting position on the floor to see the bound man in the chair studying him intently. Luke shifted uncomfortably, knowing that type of scrutiny was doubtlessly Force-related. In fact, the man's Force signature seemed just as familiar as Obi-Wan and Anakin's, but it was so heavily shielded that he could barely tell.
Luke awkwardly cleared his throat and raised his thin shields like he had been taught in his brief Jedi training with Master Yoda. It never hurt to be cautious. "Sir, do you mind me asking what's going on?" The question was innocent enough, but Luke was surprised to hear his voice so hoarse and shaky as it left his throat.
The man looked at him intensely before plastering one of the fakest smiles Luke had ever seen on his face. "Why my boy, it seems you've found yourself in the middle of an important rescue mission in the midst of the Clone Wars."
"The Clone Wars!?" Luke shrieked incredulously, only to jump in surprise as he saw Obi-Wan ram into the wall and crumple to the floor, unconscious. Immediately after, taking advantage of Anakin momentarily stunned on the ground, Dooku Force-pushed a large metal platform onto the unconscious Jedi Master, making Luke gasp in panic. He had seen Ben die once already, but it couldn't possibly happen twice, right? Especially not if he was where he thought he was... Or when he thought he was.
"Ben!" Luke cried without thinking. He briefly saw Anakin glance at him in confusion before the Jedi was quickly distracted by a lightsaber attempting to cleave him in half. He was back in battle mode in under a second.
"I take it you know Master Kenobi?" the man in the chair asked, his voice dark and curious.
"Uh...sort of," Luke said. He was so confused. He still had no idea what was happening despite his fuzzy theory about his location. What about the Rebels? Were they alright? Flashes of Leia, Han, Chewie, Artoo, Lando, Wedge, and even Threepio went through his head as he desperately tried to make heads or tails of what to do next. Should he help or would intervening make his situation even worse than it was before?
The fight between his father and the older man went barely noticed as Luke started to worry more intensely. However, as the duel arrived only feet before him, he was forced out of his thoughts and left to watch as Anakin sliced off the Sith's hands with one swift flick of his wrist. The lightsaber previously held by the severed hands shot into the air and landed into Anakin's awaiting grasp, thus allowing him to crisscross the blades at the old man's throat as the defeated Sith fell to his knees.
"Good, Anakin, good," the man in the chair said, smiling devilishly. Then his face morphed and all previous faux kindness he had been presenting dissolved. "Kill him."
Luke stared in horror. He understood that defeating a Sith was a high accomplishment, but killing was always supposed to be a last resort, used only in defense. He may not have known everything about the ancient Jedi philosophy yet, but he knew that killing a defenseless person, no matter who they were, was not the Jedi way. And with the murderous look on Anakin's face, Luke didn't think he needed any further encouragement. Was this how he went to the dark side?
The old man on his knees was staring at the man in the chair in pure shock and betrayal, the latter emotion confusing Luke to no end. Why would he look betrayed against someone he had kidnapped? Unless...
"Kill him now," the Chancellor urged, spurring Luke into action as Anakin's eyes darkened.
"No!" He turned towards the man in the chair, his eyes alight with panic.
Anakin hesitated, glaring at Luke. "This doesn't concern you," he spat. His gaze flickered towards the man in the chair, pure confliction in his eyes despite the underlying trustworthiness he felt for him radiating from his Force signature. "I shouldn't."
"Do it." The man in the chair snapped, his voice changing to something more twisted and corrupted.
And just like that, it all became clear for Luke. He knew that voice. That was the voice that had killed millions of souls, corrupted his father, and tortured Luke himself in cold blood, laughing sadistically as he did so.
This man, if he could even be called that, was Emperor Palpatine.
"Wait!" Luke cried before Anakin could slice the two blades like scissors. "You're a Jedi, are you not? This is not the Jedi way."
Anakin looked at him sharply. "How would you know anything about the Jedi way?"
"I'm a Jedi myself. I haven't been trained much, I'll admit, but I know killing a defenseless person is not right," Luke said firmly.
Anakin stared at him and then back at the man on his knees. His hands were beginning to tremble in indecision. He thought of Obi-Wan, still unconscious in the corner, and knew that he would be saying similar words to him. They had taken countless lives throughout the three ongoing years of the war—enough so that the morals of the Jedi were being called into question on a regular basis—but as he looked down at Dooku, the man's eyes wide as the heat of the sabers sizzled at the skin around his collar, he wavered. Him, the Hero with No Fear, indecisive on whether or not to eradicate one of their major enemies. And all from the judgmental words of a stranger.
"Anakin, he must be taken care of. Think not of this boy," Palpatine cut in, ice pricking his words.
Luke shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature and stared into his father's sky-blue eyes mainly to avoid Palpatine's cold ones burning holes into the back of his head. Anakin met his gaze with fear, his lip pulling into his mouth as he bit on it paranoidly. Luke's breath caught in his lungs as his father's hands began moving the sabers.
However, instead of slicing the Sith's head off, the lightsabers shut off with a hiss. Anakin dropped his head in defeat; the old man lowered his head with a sigh of relief. It was obvious the Sith was grateful for the sparing of his life and was too weak to fight back, so he simply slumped forward and tried not to look too troubled at the loss of his hands.
"You're lucky this boy was here Dooku or else this would've ended very differently," Anakin growled miserably. "But you're still under arrest."
"I never thought I'd be grateful for the damned Jedi code," Dooku muttered under his breath before casting a thankful look towards Luke.
Anakin strode over to Palpatine and used the Force to turn off the stun cuffs binding him to the chair. The truth about Palpatine's identity caught in Luke's throat, and he twitched as he watched the man rub his wrists, free of the restraints. It was easy to tell that Palpatine was a trusted figure in Anakin's eyes and that Luke would need proof before he could scream anything. Just because he knew it was the truth didn't mean anyone would believe him. And the last thing he needed was Palpatine thinking he knew more than he let on.
"You," Anakin gestured to Luke, making him look up in surprise. "I need your help. My friend is injured. Could you get him up, maybe carry him for me?"
Luke blinked, not comprehending for a few moments before nodding quickly and stuttering out an, "Of course."
"And don't think this is over," Anakin said firmly. "I still want to know who you are and how you got here."
Luke smiled warily, groaning mentally. Palpatine glared at Luke, and the boy tried not to squirm, focusing on the task his father had given him to distract himself. He had only just earlier watched Palpatine die at his father's hand, and now he had to watch him, yet again, mentally torture and manipulate people.
"We must leave before more security droids arrive. There's no time to take Master Kenobi, we must leave him. We must get off this ship before it's too late," Palpatine monotoned, his nonchalant demeanor freezing the blood in Luke's veins.
He scowled defiantly as he continued moving towards Obi-Wan, inspecting the man's prone form before turning to his father, "He seems to be alright." Evident relief coursed through Anakin's frame, his shoulder slumping and a light smile spreading on his lips. He opened his mouth to respond right before Palpatine piped back up.
"Leave him, or we'll never make it."
Anakin frowned at Palpatine before stubbornly gesturing for Luke to pick Obi-Wan up. Luke slung the much heavier man over his shoulder and groaned under the pressure, suddenly reminded of carrying his dying father through the Second Death Star. Yet another ship that was about to blow up and another person that was injured that could so easily be left behind. This time however, no one was dying. Not while he was here. The only person he wanted dead was the cause of everything, and he was currently having a stare-off with Anakin Skywalker.
"His fate will be the same as ours," Anakin said before fastening stun cuffs over Dooku's arms due to his recent lack of wrists, and motioning for Luke to follow them.
Luke obeyed blindly, not wanting to disappoint his father even when the man had no idea who he was. The time for questions was later. For now, he needed to survive and learn everything he could about the past.
The future depended on it, after all.