AN: And here we are, at the end of the story. If you stuck with me this long, you are an angel. Thank you so much.

The next morning, Luke was only half-watching Espera take part in an interview of her own (interspersed with expertly cut clips of his father's break from reality) when Leia returned. He didn't have to look up and see the stormy look on her face to know the call she'd gone outside to take had ended badly.

"You need to wake him up," she said, grimly. "The War Council wants to meet with him."

Luke's stomach dropped. There were few reasons why the highest ranking generals of the New Republic and their Senate liaisons would want to see his father this morning- and none of them were good.

"He shouldn't still be sleeping," Luke heard his sister mutter, even as he trudged down the hall. He froze- for a moment, it seemed like a familiar blue glow was emanating from his father's quarters- but when he reached his father's bedroom, there was no one but Anakin.

His father's face was drawn tight. He hadn't said a full sentence since he'd woken up, responding to Luke mostly in monosyllables. Even Leia couldn't get a full answer out of him. Now they sat in the small antechamber, waiting to appear before the full New Republic War Council, and Anakin wouldn't speak to him. Even his shields were stronger than usual, giving Luke no glimpse into how his father felt in the wake of last night's disaster.

"Father-"

At that moment, the door swung open revealing an absolutely terrified looking page.

"The Council-" the young Rodian's voice broke, and he cleared this throat and tried again. "The Council will see you now—"

Before he could even finish, Vader pushed the heavy sandak wood doors open, nearly upending the Council's messenger. Leia fixed her brother with an exasperated look before running after their father- who was now a distant flash of cape and steady thunder of booted footsteps.

Luke and Leia walked solemnly- but quickly- past rows of audience seating- mercifully empty. The nine members of the War Council sat behind a massive desk on a raised dais. Vader had refused the defendant seating, choosing instead to stand directly beneath the Council's gaze, hands curled into fists and resting on his hips. Leia's surge of alarm mirrored Luke's own- it was a pose far too reminiscent of Vader.

"Mr. Skywalker," Mon Mothma greeted, inclining her head. "I'm sure you know why you are here today."

"Indulge me," Vader snarled, tilting his mask upwards. Luke could sense his glare beneath the large, bulbous lenses of his mask was equally fierce, as if he were the one passing judgment, not receiving it. Mon Mothma quirked an eyebrow.

"Very well. Mr. Skywalker, in light of current circumstances, the Council has voted to relieve you both of your emergency powers as Secretary of Intra-Republic Affairs and liaison to the Imperial Remnant, as well as your position as military adviser and Special Agent within the New Republic Army."

Luke's blood ran cold. His father's amnesty was contingent on his service with the New Republic, routing out the last of the Empire's forces. Without it…there were many, many forces in the New Republic who wanted to see Vader pay dearly for his crimes.

"Mon, you can't do this!" Leia exclaimed, breaking protocol even before Vader did. "You can't take him to trial again; the New Republic has laws against double jeopardy! Without that, we're no better than-"

"Senator Organa," Mothma cut in, sharply. "Your father is not going to stand trial again. Not only would it be impossible, but highly unethical, as he is unable to contribute to his own defense. Anakin Skywalker's amnesty will remain intact given his honorable discharge."

"On what grounds?" Leia and Anakin demanded in unison. Leia's mouth snapped shut, and she looked slightly ill at her and her father's shared outburst.

The dignified members of the War Council shifted uncomfortably. Mothma looked to them, as if asking for someone else to chime in, but no one came to her rescue. She exhaled slowly before pressing on.

"On that grounds that your mental health no longer allows you to perform your duty to the New Republic."

"WHAT?!" Anakin shouted, and Luke imagined the room shook slightly. "This is your newest attempt to rid yourselves of me- through slander?!"

"Mr. Skywalker," Mon Mothma pressed on, still calm in the face of a very Vader-like outburst, "last night you claimed you could see the future and that the stars were in danger of burning out of existence."

"I said no such thing!"

"We have a transcript," Mothma replied, smoothly. "We could read the relevant sections if you like."

"I was the Commander of the Imperial Navy!" Anakin shouted, pointing for emphasis. "I am just as sane now as I was then!"

"A hologram of your dead wife caused you so much distress you had to be sedated," Mothma didn't look annoyed or upset by Anakin's shouting, instead she looked…almost sad. "I also remember the Clone Wars. I remember how young you were. This is not a punishment, there's no shame is being affected by lingering trauma-"

"There is no lingering trauma!" Vader exploded, nearly shrieking. "This is a plot! You have waited for a chance to remove me—you are the ones who set the entire affair in motion!"

"Do you honestly believe that?" Mothma asked. Her expression was now openly pitying. Luke walked forward and put a gentle hand on his father's arm. His father bit back another angry outburst, and Mothma went on.

"We've lost many soldiers to injuries, both physical and otherwise. Because of your previous service the New Republic will be providing your treatment-"

"Treatment," his father hissed, but Luke admonished him silently. Mon went on as if she hadn't heard. "-at a private facility on Naboo. Arrangements have already been made. Mr. Skywalker, this is a chance for you to finally get better. We suggest you take it."

Vader took in the news silently. Luke sensed that beneath his mask, his jaw was clenched dangerously tight. Then, without warning, he turned on his heel and strode out of the council chambers.

"You are dismissed!" Mon Mothma called after him, annoyed. Luke sighed. He was desperately tired of always chasing after his father.

Luke carefully placed another one of his tunics in the transport crate. Leia and Han loved to tease him, and even his father was baffled by it, but he didn't mind folding laundry. Keeping his hands busy kept him from worrying about what exactly his father was going to do once he stopped pouting in his quarters.

The door behind him slid open, and he turned in surprise. Leia had stayed behind to hammer out some of the details of Vader's exile (has his father had grimly referred to it) with Mon Mothma, and Luke hadn't sensed her return. Instead, standing sheepishly in the doorway, was Espera.

"Uh…hey," she said, shifting nervously. It was clear she expected to be shouted at again. Instead Luke gestured to the only chair unoccupied by unpacked clothes.

"Please come in."

Espera came into the apartment, but didn't take a seat. Instead, she shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I actually came to, ah…see your father."

Luke gave her the most politely incredulous look he could muster. When he felt she'd suffered under it enough, he answered: "I'm not sure he'll be available today."

Espera sighed. "Look, I didn't mean to get him fired-" she started, but Luke's expression of disbelief deepened.

"Well, OK, maybe that was a possibility," she admitted, "but we didn't think it would actually happen. Surely you didn't think it would actually happen?" she shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. "Even you have to admit he's not- we can't have an insane general running the clean-up effort against the Imps!"

"He's not insane!" Luke snapped, irritated for the first time. He threw down the pair of pants he'd been folding with more force than was really necessary.

"Ok, ok!" Espera held up her hands, in apology. "I just came over to say that I wouldn't have…arranged for this if I'd known he was…sick. Not publicly, anyhow. Something quiet."

Luke didn't respond. "I'm making a mess," Espera muttered, "but I did come here to apologize. Look, I'll get out of your hair, just tell Anakin I have something for hi—oh!" Espera nearly jumped out of her skin. Luke turned, mildly surprised- his father usually didn't bother to cloak his presence in the Force. How long he'd been standing in the shadows of the hallway, arms folded across his chest, Luke couldn't say.

"We…" Espera started, faltered, and then swallowed hard before going on. "We pulled this off a holocam from inside the old Senate building. Don't ask me how I got it, even I don't really want to—" she held out a small holo projector, similar to the one she'd used in the last, ill-fated interview, and it sprung to life in her palm. A young man, dressed in the robes of the Old Republic Jedi, held aloft a woman in an elaborate gown. They spun in an endless loop, happy expressions frozen on their faces. The blue images flickered, reflected on the planes of Vader's mask, before he snatched the holo projector from Espera's palm. He stared at her for a long moment, unreachable beneath his armor, before turning on his heel and stalking away. He never said a word.

"That was wonderful," Luke said, breaking the silence. "He really does appreciate it. Thank you for such a lovely gift."

Espera released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I really, really didn't know," she said, making one last appeal.

Luke shrugged. "We didn't either, really. He's been isolated for a very, very, long time….he would have told us, I think, if he knew how."

"Kriff me," Espera muttered, rubbing the back of her head. "Look, I'm just going to go. I did enough here-" she turned, and jumped once again. "Senator Organa!"

"Mrs. D'tol," Leia replied, coldly. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing. I was just going. So…goodbye," she waved once, before making her way out of the apartment, doing her best to mask her relief.

"What did she want?" Leia demanded, dropping a load of parcels.

"She just wanted to apologize for the way things went," Luke said, going back to his packing. "She brought Father a gift. It was actually very nice."

Leia made an exasperated noise. "Only you could describe the person who just threw the order of our lives entirely out of sync as 'very nice'."

"Well, it was," Luke shrugged. "What did the Council have to say?"

"That I'm going with you," Leia replied, grimly. Luke actually looked up in surprise. "They think a brief leave of absence from the Senate would be good for me. I did have to sedate my father live on the Holonet. Apparently, my image needs a slight…rehabilitation." She sighed heavily. "The facility they picked out is a family place, so they want both of us there. It's going to be pretty miserable."

"Father will like spending time with you," Luke replied, evenly. Leia made a face. "Perhaps the counseling will do you both some good-" with that she balled up a stray pair of pants and threw it at his head. Luke took the hit squarely in the face, laughing as he tugged them free.

"Shut up. Han's coming with the Falcon in an hour, and we aren't going to hear the end of his stupid jokes the entire way there."

"Then let me go make sure Father is getting ready," Luke said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the same blue glow at the end of the hall.

Father must have left his holo on…

While that was certainly true, Luke was not expected the scene he saw before him. His father sat in the chair in the middle of his mediation chamber, chin on his chest, sound asleep. And behind him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder…

"Obi-Wan!" Luke exclaimed. The ghostly figure of his former mentor smiled, putting a finger to his lips. "What are you doing here?" Luke pressed on, in a half-whisper.

"Watching over my padawan," Obi-Wan replied, looking down at Anakin's slumped form fondly. "You have to keep an eye on him. When he has nightmares, he doesn't sleep well. It makes him…testy."

"I didn't realize," Luke said, softly. Obi-Wan's face fell.

"Neither did we," he said, with an air of age old sadness. "The Jedi weren't made of stone- we did feel, even if the Code advised against it. It was our stubborn, foolish refusal to let go of the Code and actually help Anakin that was his undoing. We looked the other way while he hurt, and we all paid the price."

Luke was quiet for a moment, while Obi-Wan leaned gently against his Father's back, draping his arms around the much larger man's shoulders. "The Jedi can change," Luke said, finally. "We—the New Order can be stronger for those mistakes."

Obi-Wan looked up, smiling gently. "I believe so as well," he said, before leaning over and murmuring into Anakin's ear.

"Wake up, padawan," he whispered, looking mischievous. "Luke wants to tell you something." Anakin raised his head, shaking it sleepily, and Obi-Wan smiled at Luke before vanishing.

"Luke?" his father asked, rubbing his eyes. "What…?"

"It must be a lingering effect of Leia's sedative," Luke answered, smoothly. He imagined he heard a far-off peal of laughter. His father still looked dazed, but seemed to accept that answer.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke pressed on. "Leia says we're going to leave in an hour. We have to have everything you want to take ready to load up by then."

"Very well," his father sighed, as he heaved himself out of the chair. His gaze turned to the holo Espera had given him, still playing. He watched it for a few more moments before turning it off and clipping it to his belt.

"If we are going in that smuggler's wreck of a ship then I want all of my backup equipment as well as…"

His father went on, as if his moment of sentiment had never happened. Luke smiled, shook his head, and went to lend a hand.