An Even Greater Sin

PART 2

Chapter 13: The past is legend...

Pain- scorching agony, permeating his every bone-

-Screams of hatred, shards of rage-

-Death and destruction and-

-NO!

Luke Skywalker flailed about, thrashing in pain, before he smashed his hand against something.

Eyes swollen with tears opened, slowly, straining to see in the bright surroundings- bright blue, like the shift of the spectrum as stars grow near.

The Blue Shift. Hyperspace.

Raising his flesh hand to his eyes, struggling to bring the Cosmos into focus, he felt a large bruise covering half of his face.

The bruise where Anakin had hit him. So it hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real.

A high-pitched beeping assaulted his ears, still sensitive from his faint, and he groaned inwardly. Trying desperately to orient himself, he forced his eyes to stop spinning so he could see.

His X-Wing. The X-Wing he had crashed on Coruscant. With Artoo-Detoo in the socket behind the cockpit.

Straining to make out the translation of the astromech-speak on his screen, Luke frowned as he read it. [Where the ROM have you been? You disappeared!]

"I disappeared? As in, 'wasn't here,' or 'out of it?'"

[You were completely gone. You were nowhere near the ship. I did not think that it was possible for a human to transmit themself in between places. Matter has a hard- literally- time being transmitted like data.]

So he had really been gone. Glancing at his chrono, he sighed. It was unlikely that it was reliable anymore. "What time is it?"

[It is fifthmonth twenty-five, ID 22. It is four hours twenty-seven minutes Standard time.]

Not even a day later than he had left. He reset his chrono, and ran a hand over his eyes. "How long 'til we revert to realspace?"

[Projected time: One hour seventeen minutes. Master Luke, exactly where did you go?]

Of course. The curious droid would never let him escape explaining. "I was in the past."

[Great. First you're lifting me without any mechanical items, then you're transporting yourself through time. What next- successfully shutting Threepio up?]

With a halfhearted grin, Luke asked, "Do you even believe me?"

[I learned years ago that Jedi can do damn near anything. I wouldn't put it past you. I trust you not to be joking- I can hear that you're not well enough to joke.]

"Heh." Luke shook his head carefully, trying to not aggravate his aching mind. "I'm going to meditate a while, if you don't mind."

[So long as you stick around, this time. I don't want to have to explain to High Command why there's no Commander Skywalker in this time anymore.]

"You and me both." And Luke closed his eyes, working to find the healing energies within himself.

Darth Vader looked over the blue orb that filled the viewports of the _Executor._ At least he had been told it was blue. His computer-enhanced lenses registered the entire Cosmos as varying shades of red and black.

He would have released a sigh of annoyance, if his respirator hadn't regulated his breath so strictly.

So, the boy had returned to this time. Vader didn't know whether to be pleased or outraged. The wounds opened by the boy- his son!- had never healed, and he awaited eagerly the chance to rectify the boy's errors. Within his black heart, Vader still lusted for the boy, although his body had long ago lost all capability for sex. It had been scorched off with his hair and much of his flesh.

Yet the fire was still within him. He would have to quench the boy's lust before he could be free of his own.

Still the rage ate away at his life essence like a mynock draining energy from power cables. He had destroyed Obi-Wan, but the boy still had gone back in time. He had no idea how, but the very fact that his son could affect his past disturbed him to no end.

Luke's heart had to be cleared of such distressing ideas. Vader needed to purify his son of that unholy attraction.

And if that meant making the boy fear him... then so be it.

Leia Organa was troubled. She had woken up, an hour earlier, screaming bloody murder, from a terrible dream about Luke and a darkly handsome young man.

The man had accused Luke of seducing him, and then attacked Luke. And then, a woman- Leia could swear she had seen that face before- dying, and the screams of children, and-

Fire.

Han had come barging into her cabin as she almost lost her mind, shaking and nearly smashing his face in as she went out of control. She had no idea what these nightmares were about, but she knew that they were bad news.

She had wept into Han's arms as long as she could bear, and then she had pushed him away, insisting that she just needed a walk. In reality, she needed Han more than ever, but she couldn't even think of telling him what she had seen. He would worry- he always did, whether or not he expressed it- and she didn't need to break his innocence.

She needed to talk to Luke as soon as she could.

Emperor Palpatine leaned back in his throne on board the Death Star, savoring the ripples of fear he sensed through the Force. They resonated within him like the tone of a drumbeat, pounding and pulsing, keeping his ancient heart alive.

After a maneuver like the one he had just pulled, he needed all of the energy he could get- and fear gave off plenty of power.

Young Skywalker's fear was the sweetest of all- pure, tender and naive, yet tinged with a bitter flavor, like that of a barely bloomed anger. The boy was powerful, yes, but untamed, unspoiled.

Lord Vader's rage also rang through the Force, icy fire that filled Palpatine with a form of morbid desire. Vader had been indeed powerful, but the man was well past his prime. He could have lived forever, if he hadn't had that unfortunate incident with Kenobi's blade and a beach of hot rock. Instead, he was a shell of a man, mere circuitry and barely-living flesh.

Palpatine had no respect for the individual lives he crushed- they were his to waste as he saw fit- but he understood that to use the Force properly, one must be healthy. It was a common teaching of both the Jedi and the Sith.

But Skywalker- the younger- would prove a powerful tool. Vader was expendable- he had almost outlived his usefulness in his frail middle age. The last act of Palpatine's apprentice would be to convert his own son.

Palpatine's plan was going perfectly.

Luke awoke from his healing trance, still sore but okay, when Artoo beeped to inform him that they were approaching Sullust. As they pulled out of hyperspace, Luke let his eyes roam over the assembled ships.

Leia was on Home One. He docked his X-Wing, and steeled his nerves to return to the company of people from his own time.

A dark night was ending. Dawn was arising- a red sunrise which filled Luke's heart with dread.