Author's note: Takes place after Luke's conversation with Vader in the Endor bunker, in Return of the Jedi.

Luke kept his eyes closed in the shuttle, meditating. His insides were twisting around, but he summoned the calm of the Force to ease his fears. Why was he doing this? But there was no other way. There would be endless fighting, constant running, if he did not face this darkness. It was time.

"Alright, rebel, move it," came the brusque voice of a stormtrooper. Luke slowly opened his eyes, seeing the white-armored minions on either side of him, blasters pointed. He rose, following them down the ramp... and into the Death Star. The Second Death Star. It was impossible to think, that three years ago he'd been in a docking bay much like this one, watching his mentor get struck down in cold blood. He'd watched the caped warrior with hatred then, unknowing of the unbreakable bond between himself and the masked killer. And now, the same man was waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp, a true demon of frightening proportions, and yet, for some reason, not so imposing any more.

When Luke reached out to his father through the Force, he could tell the man was almost as anxious as he was. He wasn't certain how that knowledge made him feel.

Vader dismissed the troops surrounding his son, and they were left alone, facing one another again. Without a word, he turned and headed for the turbolift at an easy pace, knowing Luke would follow. They walked in uneasy silence, each filled with a mortified curiosity about the other.

When they stepped into the turbolift and the doors had closed, Luke let his eyes fall shut again, trying to meditate. Nothing could prevent it now... he was going to the Emperor. The Emperor. He could feel the man's darkness radiating throughout the station, strangling it with the cloud of blackness. It was difficult to think with it swirling around him...

"Luke."

His father's voice broke what little concentration he'd had. He opened his eyes and looked up at the man.

"Let it give you focus, instead of distracting you. It will better serve you in the presence of the Emperor."

The young man stared up at him for a few moments, motionless. A sizable knot was forming in his throat. All at once he felt like screaming, lashing out, crying, and begging. He didn't want to see the Emperor. He couldn't see the Emperor. Why was he doing this? Why was his father doing this? In a strange, ridiculous sense, he was comfortable with Vader. The man could come with him; Luke could turn him, he was certain of it. Vader's words were meant as assistance, to guide him. The man was lovingly taking his son to the execution block.

Luke was afraid to open his mouth, afraid that he might let his emotions come forth. Calm and peace, that was the Jedi way. He knew there were tears forming in his eyes. "Don't do this," he said finally, his voice calmer than he'd anticipated.

"There is no choice, my son. You cannot escape your destiny."

Ben's words. The repetition of them, but this time in Vader's voice, was unsettling. Luke looked away from the dark figure, staring instead at the turbolift doors before him. His heart hammered painfully against his ribcage. The lift slowed, and the doors opened to reveal a vast, dark hall. His eyes took in the darkness, and he swallowed. Destiny it was, then.