Chapter Text
Prologue
Our lightsabers clash and crackle. Red meets green time and time again. So swiftly do our blades move that I know, were I not submerged in the Force, I should be felled within nanoseconds. The fight progresses furiously, a duel to the death just as it was on Mustafar those years ago. It feels like yesterday. It feels like forever.
Thank the Force I ran into Han, and he could take Leia away before Vader revealed himself. Else this would be even more complex than it already is. Not that there’s much complexity to it: I must kill him. I will kill him.
Vader doesn’t speak. Neither do I. But then, suddenly, the station rocks underfoot—the shields are down, I realize. They did it. And he utters,
“You are a scourge upon the galaxy.”
I don’t know why that hurts. It shouldn’t. What should I care for his opinion? But I suppose there is still a small part of me that knows this dark creature was once my father. A small part of me that remembers how I used to want to meet my father, used to look up to him so much, used to make up stories about how great a man he must have been…
“I suppose it runs in the family,” I return, effortlessly parrying his rapid strikes.
“What?”
For some reason, I just admit it. “I’m Amidala’s son.”
“No…” There is a heartbeat of hesitation in the vocoder. “You couldn’t be. My son… my son died with her.”
But maybe he feels its truth, because there is a crack of uncertainty in the spider web of him in the Force.
“No. He grew up safe, away from you.” The same can’t be said for Leia, or Padmé. My anger begins to rise, now, hot at the thought, and I must release the feeling and enter back into the currents of the Force, attention on nothing else… But Vader is different now: weaker. Or distracted. Or both. He isn’t, after all, a young man any longer under that armor.
What remains of him that is a man, anyway.
When the Death Star shudders underfoot again, I realize time is short. Running out. So I make a leaping dive that suckers him, and escape. Escape to fight another day. Because—in truth—I feel a little weaker and distracted, too.
Why did I admit that?
Why did I admit that we are related?
Why did I do it?
Why did he turn to the dark side?
OOO
I jarred awake, my heart a turbohammer. Unfamiliar coils of sweat-soaked sheets wrapped around my waist like so many tentacles, prepped to choke the life from me. I struggled. Then I remembered where I was.
I breathed out, shuddering violently.
And then, the voice, coaxing, drifted into my unguarded mind. Did you dream of me, son?
Over the course of these past weeks, Vader had done a one-eighty. Instead of death threats by proxy or denials of my admission, my words seemed to have been received with a wholehearted recognition and even joy. And apparently he believed I wanted some semblance of relationship.
Leave me alone.
Luke, he coaxed, you are in my dreams often, too. I dream of you coming to me, helping me. Together we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy. Tell me you wouldn’t like that, after all these years of war. Tell me you wouldn’t like to rule as father and son. It was your mother’s greatest wish that we be a family together, though no doubt that liar Kenobi didn’t tell you that…
I managed to clamp down on my shields and shut him out at this final one. One that hit a little too close to home. That liar Kenobi. I wanted to disregard his words, forget them completely as ones from a dark manipulator grasping at any possibility for power. But Obi-Wan… he hadn’t always been entirely honest with me.
So how could I in fullness disregard Vader’s words to me? How could I be certain what Queen Amidala, my mother, had wanted? I couldn’t. And that was probably the worst part of all of this.
These nightly walks around the base at Yavin IV had become something of a tradition in the past few weeks. I rarely ran into anyone except nighttime technicians, or, once, Admiral Holdo, who clearly couldn’t sleep for the loss of her daughter and her according mourning. But tonight, I ran into the last person I wanted to run into.
Or maybe the first. Like Obi-Wan had once said, it all depended on your point of view…
In the end, I poured out a holistic confession of the events on the second Death Star to Biggs. “And, now, ever since I told Vader the truth, he’s been after me,” I finished.
“…isn’t that what you expected?” The undertone was, You idiot. Why did you even tell him?
“I mean…” I explained what I meant.
Biggs’s eyes widened. “That’s… new,” he ventured at last. “Wouldn’t have expected family sentiment from Vader. What’re you going to do?”
“I’m going to say, ‘Yes let’s go overthrow everybody and rule, of course. You know, I’ve always wanted a crown?!’ What do you think I’m gonna do, Biggs?”
“I only meant it in the general tactical sense,” he returned evenly.
I felt like swearing at him. I felt like telling him I missed him. But I knew I could not be so selfish. He deserved more than false promises or one-night advantage-taking. And that would’ve been all I could offer.
“I know,” I admitted quietly, tracing the dark wood grain of the table at which we sat. “But I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You don’t have to, right now.”
I wanted to believe that was true, but wasn’t sure that I could. My silence seemed to say all to him. It always had. Reaching out, Biggs took my hand, then touched my cheek. His hazel eyes regarded me with aching tenderness to which my heart, unbidden, replied to with an ache of its own.
“Maybe it’s not a bad thing that he knows. Maybe it was meant to be.”
“Meant to be?”
“Maybe something good will come of it. Not you being Emperor, I mean.”
“I think it’d be co-Emperor.”
“Because that’s the important detail in that,” he deadpanned.
My lips twitched ever so slightly. I squeezed his hand back. But being so close to him did things to me that I couldn’t afford. I made to move away gently—but then one of those late-night maintenance crew members happened upon us. His jaw dropped. His youthful face looked eager.
“Uhm,” he said, “sorry.” He set off, muttering excitedly to himself with something that included “win the bet”.
“Great,” I muttered, slapping my hands over my face. “That’ll be everywhere by this morning.”
“I didn’t realize being seen with me shamed you so deeply,” Biggs remarked.
I looked up at him, unsure whether he meant it in a hurt sense or not. The moment I saw his face, I knew for sure. “Biggs…” I began.
“Forget it, Luke. I’ll go get him and explain before he starts spreading it around.”
And then he left the room. I had to assume he didn’t mean explain the whole thing…
OOO
When Padmé asked if I would teach her, I felt hopeful again. I answered before even having to think for a moment. In the same vein as I’d just spoken about following the Force’s will, I knew this to be its very will. And I couldn’t wait to teach her. To have an apprentice. A partner. We would be a team, together.
No longer would I be the last Jedi.
I expressed my deepest gratitude that night in my mediations, unsure whether or not Obi-Wan, Yoda, or Qui-Gon might be listening. At that moment, though, it didn’t matter. I have an apprentice. I will not be the last Jedi. It made me feel lighter than air, and I could forget for a time the nasty realities of life as currently.
Until I couldn’t.
“You’re sure he’s dead?”
Andor gave Han a flat look, like, You have no idea that I’m the spymaster of the century, do you?
“I think he’s sure,” I jumped in.
Leia breathed out sharply. “When will it be announced?”
“I don’t know. But my source at the court is highly reliable.” This with a cold look at Han, like, Don’t mess with my craft or ever question me again. “The Emperor is dead.”
“The former Emperor,” Han emphasized. That brought it home for all of us.
“Was it natural?” I finally spoke up.
“How could it not be? He was almost a hundred and ten.”
“Right,” I said slowly, thinking of saber scars and surgery to patch up damaged pulmonodes. And I got the distinct feeling that Sidious’s death, though when he was old, hadn’t been natural at all. His obedient little prince had turned on him, as all Sith underlings inevitably did.
I wondered where that left him and Vader. In an awkward kind of partnership, I presumed. But I didn’t like thinking about Vader much these days. I’d finally managed to get a firm hold on blocking him out, and that was what mattered. I had other matters to focus on.
“Luke,” Leia said later. “You have that frown again. What’s going on?”
You mean besides an eighteen-year-old kid becoming Emperor and getting to run wild throughout the galaxy with Vader as his accomplice? While Vader seems to secretly be plotting against him, because now he knows me to be his son…? Which I haven’t mentioned to you because you won’t speak of him ever, and especially not after what he just did to you and Tai-Lin?
“Just wondering what kind of leader Prince Palpatine will become.”
Leia snorted. “As if we have to wonder about that. He’ll be exactly like his grandfather.”
“Who will be exactly like his grandfather?”
“Uhm, no one,” Han said. Then he added, “Sweetie.”
Padmé arched an eyebrow. Then she simply waited.
I said, “The old Emperor died yesterday.”
She breathed out sharply. A torrent of emotion warred in her—shock, gladness, fear, pride?—but her face retained its old expressionless mask of politics throughout it all.
“Huh,” was all she said to that. Then she moved on. “Well, anyway, Doctor Aask said that it’s alright if I move out of the hospital now, which will be quite welcome. Apparently I have to do some physical therapy and take these pills he gave me in this container labeled for every day of the week like I’m an idiot who can’t remember, but after a few weeks I think we’ll be good to head for Dagobah.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, nodding. Perfectly reasonable. Only we’d both forgotten something.
Leia interjected, “Uhm… head to Dagobah?”
“Oh. Right. Master Whitesun is going to train me to be a Jedi. We might be gone for a year or two, but we’ll come back. Well, I should go pack up. Bye.” Then she left. She did emotional conversations even less these days.
Leia and Han both turned on me, united in their shared feelings over this revelation. “Gone, eh?” Han started.
“For a year or two?” Leia added.
What I really thought? It might be three, to really get a proper foundation. What I actually said? “She asked me. She’s ready.”
“And when were you going to ask us, Luke?”
“Leia.” I smiled. Chuckled. Like this was all a joke. “She’s going to be twenty-three in a few months. I’m pretty sure she can make her own choices.”
“Sure she can,” Han agreed caustically.
“But we still think we ought to be consulted about them, given the way things are,” added Leia. Well, well, the two seemed so in sync these days when they disagreed with me.
I smiled at the implication. “And how are ‘things,’ Leia? She is an extremely talented Force-sensitive young woman who wishes to pursue the Jedi path. She managed to duel and escape Prince—excuse me—Emperor Palpatine II, something which I am sure no one else can boast of. If she could do that untrained… I have no doubts she will grow into one of the most capable Jedi ever known.” And what I didn’t mention was that if she could do what she did and not turn, then she would surely rank among the greats.
Leia glared at me. “You know what I’m saying, Luke. Don’t play the fool.”
I thought of the vision I’d had, of Padmé beating Alba. She had yet to say she had done so. But I sensed the knowledge between us sometimes. I sensed Prince Palpatine’s machinations had not been idle where she was concerned. Yet I knew that no matter what other people believed, she was traumatized, but could make a good recovery. Jedi training would surely help it. Maybe her mind wouldn’t be like everyone else’s ever again, but she was surely stronger than most when it came down to it.
In every way.
“I think it’s both of you who are being foolish,” I replied honestly, allowing a hint of coldness into my voice. “Because Padmé is no risk. You need to let go of your fear about that.”
“You think you’re such a great teacher, kid?”
I eyed Han. “I can teach her,” I returned. I didn’t doubt it. “And by the grace of the Force, my humble efforts at instruction will prove enough. After all… I’m all she’s got.”
I smiled at them, both so stormy in their anger, allied with each other against me, and knew that by the time Padmé and I returned they would be together again. They had stuff to work through, but the two remained like magnets. Though I never said so, I always agreed with Padmé about Tai-Lin and Leia: no match. Not that I had ever wished such a fate upon the man.
“Well,” I remarked gently, “I guess we’ll be seeing you. I plan to return to the Alliance every now and again to stay up with everything, and I’ll bring my communicator, so I won’t be some entirely out of touch hermit or something. May the Force be with you.”
Then I left, lightly ignoring their attempts to continue the argument with me.
“So,” Padmé remarked as I came into her hospital room, where a droid buzzed about, busily packing up her things to move to what would be her room for the next few weeks. “Did they give you an earful?”
“You purposely left me to it?”
“Well, I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. And you always shut down things so calmly and succinctly.”
I shook my head. “Still a politician.”
Her smile shaded sad. “Despite it all. You know, it’s funny: for a while now I felt so trapped by the royal life. Only wanted it to end. But now that it has… I find myself missing it.”
“And worrying for Alderaan.”
After a moment, she nodded.
I couldn’t offer much comfort. I couldn’t lie to her. Word had it the Empire was already cracking down hard on the world, the new young Emperor at the helm of it all. The planet had been virtually bankrupted. Blockaded. Youth were being conscripted into the stormtroopers. And there was rumor that he might even have work camps built on the planet, in which prisoners—potentially eventually citizens—would be made to toil…
It was the worst possible outcome. And I was pretty sure Padmé knew of it all, even if she didn’t mention it. People fooled themselves when they believed they shielded her.
“Well,” I said, coming over and offering a feeble return, “if it helps, I worry, too.”
“So I’ve heard,” she jested, clearly not wanting to be serious about all of these terrible serious things facing us all. “In fact, I heard a rumor about you and Admiral Darklighter comforting one another the other night…”
I groaned. “He said he would make it stop.”
“Any time anyone tries to quell a rumor it only adds fuel to the flames.” She shook her head sadly. “Basic rumor rules, Uncle. Well, anyway, on the bright side, I won the bet.”
“There’s been betting about us?”
A whoops expression overtook her face. Then she shrugged at me, a cocky grin playing at her lips. Teaching her… certainly promised to be an adventure.
I found myself looking forward to it.
And I could forget about Vader now, and the revelation, and Biggs, and the rumors about us. I must forget about it all. Because I was no longer the last Jedi anymore. I was a Jedi master, teaching my first student. All must be devoted to that end.