Coming to Terms

A/N 1: This story begins after Empire Strikes Back, and follows closely the events of Return of the Jedi. It's intended to do this so that we can follow the story more from Luke's point of view.

A/N 2: All Star Wars characters/places/etc… belong to Lucasfilm.

Chapter One: Denial

A/N: (Luke's dream is a replay of and from Empire Strikes Back)

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He brought his blade up to fend off the increasingly strong blows Darth Vader's crimson lightsaber kept sending his way. Vader had him retreating, and fumbling, fighting no longer for Leia and Han, but for sheer survival.

He deflected another blow and grappled with the Dark Lord before the Sith pushed him back. He stumbled, falling onto a flight of three stairs. He backed away as Vader put the tip of his blade to his throat.

"You are beaten! It is useless to resist!" Vader declared.

Luke Skywalker stirred fitfully in his sleep.

He gritted his teeth defiantly and swatted the red blade away anyway. He managed to scramble to his feet, but the Dark Lord was relentless now. Luke fought like a caged animal, striking wherever he could just to get the threatening figure away.

Luke ducked a vicious sideswipe and managed to get inside Vader's defense. His blue blade struck the Dark Lord on the arm. Vader howled in pain, grasping his arm for a second. Then he let loose a thundering growl and hurled his lightsaber at the younger man.

True fear took him for a second, and he stepped out precariously onto a tiny ledge, ducking another powerful and angry blow. Machinery was cut in half like a piece of fruit, and Luke reached out with his blade to fend off the Dark Lord once more.

Vader twirled his blade expertly and before he knew what had happened, his hand and wrist were falling down the cavernous shaft. He was so shocked that for a moment he didn't realize he was screaming.

Luke unconsciously grabbed at his arm, moaning loudly, unaware that sweat poured down his face.

"Luke, you do not yet realize your importance!" Vader said to Luke's retreating form. "Join me! I will complete your training, and we can bring order to the galaxy!"

"I'll never join you!"

"If you only knew the power of the Dark Side!" Vader continued. "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your Father…"

"He told me enough!" Luke said through his agony. "He told me you killed him!"

"No." Vader said, almost reverently. "I am your Father!"

Luke's eyes bugged as the implications of such a thing hit him. He shook his head, willing this to be a horrible joke on the Dark Lord's part.

"No… no!" Luke moaned in shocked disbelief. "That's not true! That's impossible!"

Luke grabbed his covers subconsciously; pulling them closer around him as if they could protect him from what he knew was coming.

"Search your feelings; you know it to be true!" Vader insisted.

Luke felt something deep within him confirm the Dark Lord's declaration and he hollered.

"NO… NO!"

Luke bolted upright in bed, breathing frantically, his blanket still clasped in a white-knuckled grip. His entire frame was soaked with a cold sweat, making him shiver in the already cool room.

He looked around quickly, orienting himself. He was in his room aboard one of the Rebel Alliance's medical frigates, and at the moment, Luke was exceedingly glad he didn't yet have a bunk-mate. He looked down at his new right hand, and felt a phantom pain as his body remembered the loss of the limb.

He closed his eyes and sought to calm his breathing as Master Yoda had been teaching him to do.

Master Yoda… Ben.

Luke lay back down, placing his real left hand to his forehead, reiterating aloud something that he'd been asking for a few days now.

"Ben… why didn't you tell me?"

Luke blew out a frustrated sigh, and got out of his cot. He stripped out of his soaked night clothes and dressed into something more comfortable. He looked down at his usual earthy toned garb, wondering if this color were appropriate for his circumstances.

With another sigh, Luke opened the door to his room and left. He caught sight of a chrono on the wall and realized it was the dead of the night. Not wanting to disturb anyone, Luke headed for a quiet corner of the frigate.

He found himself in one of the cargo-holds, and retreated to a dark corner, seeking the solitude he desperately needed. Luke leaned forward and pressed his head to the cool metal of the wall.

Darth Vader, Sith Lord, and right-hand man to the Emperor, was Luke Skywalker's father.

Luke knew that his Force-sense had confirmed what the man had told him, but at the time, Luke had been in survival mode. Now that he had more quiet time to think, Luke simply did not want to accept the truth.

All my life, for as long as I can remember at least, I've wanted to know my Father. Luke thought bitterly. I had this great, heroic picture of him in my mind's eye…

And now I learn that what I thought I knew of my father was all just a fairy tale.

Luke pounded an angry fist against the wall.

No. No this isn't true. I was just under a lot of stress, too much pressure. This isn't real. My Father was an honorable man, a Jedi, not… not this MONSTER!

Luke pounded the wall again, and, not getting a sufficient reaction from the unyielding durasteel wall, he turned and unleashed his fury on the stack of crates behind him.

00000

Leia Organa woke with a start. She rubbed her eyes groggily, wondering what had awakened her. She looked fuzzily around her room, and saw that nothing was out of place.

She lay back down, satisfied, and ready to fall asleep once more when her comlink beeped urgently. Leia let loose a tired growl, but fumbled for the blinking red light beside her bed.

"Organa." She answered it tiredly.

"Princess Leia, forgive the late hour." Said the gravelly voice of a Mon Calamari. "But you need to get down here right away."

"What?" Leia asked in confusion, coming more awake. "Come down where, and why?"

"It's Commander Skywalker, Ma'am. He seems to be… well, in some sort of trouble." The gravelly voice sounded disturbed, as if whatever was wrong with Luke was a first time occurrence. "We are in cargo bay 3."

Leia came fully awake at the mention of Luke's name, and as she pulled on a more modest outfit, she began to remember what had caused her to wake initially. She did not understand how she knew it, but something, or someone was radiating a deep, pain-filled anger.

Leia raced through the bowels of the ship, wondering vaguely why more of the crew wasn't reacting to an incident that required her personal attention. She came to the door of the cargo hold, and found three guards clustered around it, all looking deeply anxious, and even a bit frightened.

"Let me through please." She said in a commanding tone.

"Princess Leia, I don't think that's advisable." The middle guard said in a hesitant tone. "I'm not sure if it's… err, safe."

Leia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's okay, gentlemen, I asked for her to come." Said the gravelly voice from the comlink transmission.

The three guards reluctantly stepped aside to let Leia pass, and she saw the familiar figure of Admiral Ackbar. He waved her forward, and Leia walked with him until they were deeper into the hold.

Then she froze.

Near the back wall, crates that had once been neatly stacked were in ruins, their contents lying strewn all around in a disorderly fashion as though someone had hurled them about. The crates themselves were splintered and broken, creating a dangerous pile of sharp edges and twisted metal bracings.

And slumped forlornly in the middle of that unruly mess was Luke. He was on his knees, and leaning over, his head resting in the crooks of his elbows as his arms extended up and out. His left hand trembled slightly, and his knuckles were bruised and bloodied. By contrast, his artificial right hand seemed almost intact, with the exception of a few torn pieces of false skin.

Leia felt her heart wrench when Luke's shoulders shook with silent sobs.

"I didn't want to make a scene, Princess." Ackbar said quietly. "I know he is still adjusting to his injury, and I think he just needs a friend."

Leia offered Ackbar an appreciative smile. "Thank you Admiral. Would you keep this under wraps for me, please?"

He nodded. "Of course. No need to ask."

Leia watched as the Mon Calamari retreated to give orders to the waiting guards. When he was out of earshot, she returned her attention to Luke. She stood frozen in indecision for a long moment, watching as Luke battled something Leia knew to be more than just the loss of his hand.

Something else had happened on Bespin. She recalled how Luke had suddenly appeared in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon with a dazed, unfocused look. She hadn't paid it much mind at the time due to the heated escape attempt.

When Luke turned his head slightly and caught sight of her, she moved forward. Kneeling beside him, she placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him close. He resisted for a brief moment, as if afraid, and then Luke allowed her to hold him.

She sat with him as he continued to weep, silently offering her support and love.

After a moment, Luke stirred and sat up. His eyes were bloodshot as though he hadn't slept since they'd arrived on the ship. And now they were red and wet. His disheveled hair fell into his face a little, but he ignored it.

"Luke, what's wrong?" Leia asked, feeling a little foolish that she could think of nothing else to say.

But then again, she had never seen her friend this upset. The carnage around her was unsettling.

He looked at his hands, focusing more on the artificial one.

"Leia…" he began in a hoarse whisper. His eyes never left his hand as he continued gingerly. "Do… do you think children are… defined by…" he swallowed very hard. "By their parents?"

"Of course not!" Leia said quickly. Then she paused, thinking it over a little more. "Okay, maybe a little. I mean, my father is the reason I went into politics."

Luke winced noticeably at that. "And did you take on any of his… bad qualities?"

She looked at him, waiting for him to meet her gaze before answering.

"I could argue that Bail had no 'bad' qualities." She began, trying to lighten the mood. "But those qualities only made his good ones better."

Luke looked down again. "What if…" he stopped, as thought he was uncertain if he should proceed.

Leia waited patiently, knowing Luke would speak when ready.

"What if a parent's bad qualities so outweigh the good one… err, ones, that the two are no longer distinguishable?" He finally asked. "And what does it make a child to come from such a person?"

Leia shifted, a little uncomfortable with the twist to the conversation.

"Luke, you cannot blame a child for the wrong doings of his parents." She said gently. "And as for the parent, well, what they do is on their own conscience."

Luke weighed her words, and finally lifted his head. He rested a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her into an embrace.

"Thank you Leia."

She pulled back. "Luke, what's going on? Why the mess?"

Luke glanced around, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that, I will clean it up."

He rose, and as Leia stood too, she grabbed his arm softly but firmly.

"But why did you do it?" She pressed. "I've never seen you lose your temper like this."

He looked at her, and Leia suddenly noticed a difference to Luke's eyes. And to his face, she realized.

He looks older… sadder. Leia thought. Most of his Farmboy cheer and charm are gone.

"Leia, I appreciate the help, and I apologize for the disruption… but I'm not ready just yet to talk about… all of it." Luke said imploringly. "I need some time."

Leia studied her friend.

"Are you going to need to take some time off?" She inquired fearfully.

Understanding her meaning, Luke shook his head, adamant. "No. We will get Han back, Leia. I promise."

She nodded, knowing Luke would never lie to her.

"Are you sure you don't want some help?" She asked, changing the subject.

"No, thank you." Luke assured her. "Goodnight Leia."