The first thing Anakin realized was that he did not hear his breathing regulator. He opened his eyes, confused. He looked with his own eyes and not through the red lenses of his mask.

He had expected to see the inside of his meditation chamber aboard the Executor. Instead he faced a glass wall.

Pain stabbed his chest—pain that could not be ignored. However, Anakin was accustomed to pain. It was a constant part of his life.

Skywalker inspected the pressure on his side. Curly, chestnut hair spread out on the blanket. One graceful hand clutched his arm. The other draped across his body.

Anakin closed his eyes and imagined he could reach out and run his hands through her curls. He even felt the phantom movement in his stump. He reached out with the Force and stroked his wife's hair, running Force fingers through it.

She gazed at him with her brown eyes circled in black, the irises bloodshot. "Ani!"

Her voice was enough to wake up Obi-Wan, who had fallen asleep in his chair in the corner. "Anakin."

Neither of them could get a word in before the medical droid entered and pushed them out of the way as it examined the patient. It was the middle of the space station's night, so at least no one was floating through the corridors during this rather thorough examination.

Three-Bee placed a device against Anakin's chest. "Inhale and hold. Exhale on a five count. Five, four, three, two, one. Again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Excellent. Meal service will begin in thirty minutes. What is your preference?"

He looked at the droid, not sure that his hearing was functioning correctly. "Meal service? You mean real food?" He was shocked to hear his scratchy baritone voice after so many years of hearing it through the bassy tones of the vocalizer.

He had not eaten real food in eight years, as his suit had provided his water and the protein sludge that passed as food on Imperial vessels. After years in the suit, he had finally gotten used to never chewing his food. He only wished he never had to taste that vile sludge again.

The droid provided a menu on its screen. "Choose one."

Protein sludge might be better than these choices. "Any chance I can get a nerf steak?"

"Negative. Broth, mashed tubers, and greens. Choose your flavor of broth."

Anakin could not make up his mind because they all sounded just as bad. He closed his eyes and chose something randomly.

When the medical droid had left, Padmé and Obi-Wan helped Anakin back into his medical gown. 

"How do you feel?"  She adjusted his sleeve, her face full of concern.

Anakin closed his eyes so that he could concentrate on his full senses. "It hurts, but not the burning I used to feel. It also itches."

Obi-Wan grinned. "That's the Bacta in your lungs. It means you're healing."

Anakin smiled back at his old master, and then he looked at Padmé. "What's wrong? Did the surgery not work? You two look like you've seen a ghost."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips together before answering. "In a way, we are."

Padmé grabbed his arm stump. "We lost you, Ani, during the surgery."

He felt tears land on his arm. He smiled and shook his head. "It will take more than that to keep me down, Angel."

She smiled back with her smile that wrapped him in her love.

"What's next?" Anakin asked with raised eyebrows.

Padmé said, "The droids have cleaned your head wounds and started Bacta gel on them, but they're putting you in the tank once the doctor clears your lungs as safe."

Anakin smiled at the thought of the Bacta tank. There was nothing like the uncanny feeling of the fluid tingling over your body and working its magic on you.

I wonder what I'll look like when it is all over. I just hope with the new prosthetics and the added flexibility without the suit that I can bet back to my old fighting trim—

He grimaced and breathed heavily, trying to swallow.

"What's wrong?" Padmé stroked his forehead.

Anakin grunted. "Pal—"

Obi-Wan sent forth the Force, pulling at the fingers that had clutched Anakin's throat.

Anakin breathed quickly, gulping air, hyperventilating. "He's found me. Where's Luke?" He looked around the room and through the glass walls into the corridor.

Obi-Wan said, "Relax. He's with Master Yoda on the ship. He's fine."

"If Sidious has found me, he'll find Luke. Please—"

Master Yoda cut off Anakin's words as he entered the room with Luke in tow.

A medical droid followed them in. "Children are not allowed—" 

Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and deactivated the machine.

Luke raced around the droid and jumped onto the bed beside Anakin. "Daddy, what was that?"

"The bad man." Anakin growled.

Yoda said, "Felt it we did. Safe here we are not."

Obi-Wan asked, "How long until we can expect an Imperial fleet here?"

"It depends on where the closest is stationed. Could be hours. Could be days."

Padmé headed out the door. 

"Where are you going?" Anakin asked.

"To find that doctor and get you cleared for Bacta. Master Yoda, will moving chambers confuse Sidious?"

"Perhaps. Hide Anakin I must. Obi-Wan, hide young Luke,"  Yoda said as he closed his eyes, building an obscurity shield around Anakin.

Padmé said, "Well, I'm going to see if we can speed up this healing process." She headed out of the room, striding down the corridor past the glass wall, in her full regal comportment.

Anakin smiled, feeling a bit sorry for the doctor when Padmé would reach her.

After three days of twenty-hour Bacta sessions and obscuring Anakin and Luke from the Emperor's senses, everyone was exhausted. Padmé and Master Yoda stayed with Anakin every moment of the day.

Yoda pulled on the Force to hide Anakin and also to sustain his own energy. He had not slept in over four days. Obi-Wan and Luke spent most of their time on the ship, ready to depart at the first sign of Imperial attack.

All remained quiet thus far. One more day of Bacta treatments, and then they would attach the new prosthetics. One more day is all they would need. Each day, after the Bacta treatments, Anakin was moved to a different room, in the hopes of confusing Sidious even more.

After the last Bacta treatment, the wounds on Anakin's face had finally closed. They no longer seeped or gaped. When Padmé watched closely for a few minutes, she could actually see the flesh growing.

The skin had lost its pasty appearance, and the swelling had reduced. Anakin was scheduled for cybernetic installation the following day.

It was during that intervening night that all hope was lost. Obi-Wan jumped awake in his bunk as the proximity alarms alerted. He raced to the cockpit of the Silver Streak, with Luke right behind him in his nightclothes. Obi-Wan punched the start-up sequence on the pilot's side while Luke hit his buttons in the co-pilot's area.

Before they could lift off, two TIE fighters hovered over the ship. A troop transport landed beside it, deploying the troopers. An announcement permeated the ship's communication system. "Nubian yacht H1-2187, power down."

Luke asked Obi-Wan, "What do we do?"

"We power down. We have no armament on this craft, Luke." Obi-Wan patted the young man's hand and winked. "This is where the fun begins."

"Are they going to take me to the Emperor?"

"I don't know. They may not even know who you are." Obi-Wan looked at the scopes. "Seems we have one super star destroyer out there and five Imperial-class destroyers. Follow my lead. There's still a chance we can get free, but not if they destroy the station. I only hope they attached your father's limbs already."

"Yes, Master Kenobi."

The turbo lift door opened, revealing four Imperial stormtroopers in white armor, armed with E-11 blasters. Obi-Wan smiled. "Welcome, Gentlemen. What held you up?"

The squad commander said, "Up. You're under arrest for treason against the Empire."

"Only arrest. Hmm, Old Palpy must have something special planned for me." Kenobi stood. "Just do me a favor, leave the boy here. He's done nothing wrong."

"We are impounding this ship. The Emperor has commanded that the boy be brought to him, unharmed."

"Over my dead body." Kenobi grabbed their blasters with the Force and shoved the troopers against the bulkhead. "Run, Luke, run."

A legion of Imperial stormtroopers lined the halls of the medical center as an Imperial officer passed through the hallways, poking his head into each chamber. The unassuming young man with dark hair and a datapad in his hand seemed worried.

When he reached the room with a young amputee, he almost passed onto the next chamber, positive that this was not the man he was looking for. However, the officer stopped when he recognized the woman who sat beside him in a chair.

The young man stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Stormtroopers lined the corridor outside the glass walls. "Lord Vader." The officer saluted his superior. "How good to see you."

"Lieutenant Piett, what a pleasant surprise." The invalid smiled at the man.

The lieutenant was surprised himself. He had never seen the Sith Lord smile, even before the suit. Now, though, looking on the normally hulking figure sitting here as a torso with a head, Piett did not know how to respond. He could not believe that Vader was this weak invalid.

"We came as soon as the orders were dispatched. Admiral Ozzel deployed the fleet throughout the system, ready to engage Tarkin's fleet. We expect them within four hours, my lord."

"Excellent. We should be gone by then. Please bring me a life-support suit and a helmet. As soon as my new limbs are attached, we will leave," Anakin said. "One question, Piett."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Where do your loyalties lie?"

"With you, Lor—Master Skywalker."

"Very good. Please announce to the fleet that the Emperor has ordered an attack on me and all under my command. Those who wish to continue serving the Emperor may utilize an escape pod and wait to be picked up by Tarkin."

Piett raised his eyebrows. "We're not going to terminate them?"

"They have done nothing wrong except hold to their own beliefs. If any man chooses to fight his comrades instead of using an escape pod, you may terminate them."

"Very well, my lord."

"Start with the men out there." Anakin pointed to the legion of troopers lining the corridor.

Piett's thin lips curved into a smile. "SCM-2224 and his men of the 501st have already sworn allegiance to you, my lord. They have vowed to protect you to their last breath. We removed their chips a few hours ago."

Tears formed in Anakin's eyes when he recognized the call sign. "Very good, Captain Piett. I could not have done a better job myself."

Piett saluted his commander. "Thank you, Master Skywalker."

"Return to the Executor and hand-pick your replacement for my aide-de-camp. You are in command of the Executor now, Captain Piett."

"Yes, my lord." Piett saluted and brought his heels together in a click of reverence.

Anakin turned to his wife. "Padmé, go find that doctor. I'm not leaving without my new limbs."

"The doctor won't like it. You haven't finished the healing session yet after the Bacta treatment."

"It can't be any worse than how the last ones were attached. Go get her."

Padmé leaned forward and kissed Anakin on his healed lips before she left. 

The blanket on the other chair moved, revealing the small, green form of Master Yoda who had hidden under it while Piett was there. "Quickly we must move. On Alderaan the Alliance assembles even now."

Did you know . . .

● I'm as confused as Piett is right now, determining what Piett should call Anakin. Should it be "General Skywalker," as in the days of the Republic? Or "Lord Vader" to hide his transition? Or "Master Skywalker" to acknowledge his Jedi level? [Piett erroneously assumes Skywalker was a Jedi Master since he was on the Jedi Council.] Or should we just go with "my lord"?

Tell me what you think . . .

● What's going to happen on Alderaan? Will Bail and Breha accept Anakin? How will they react when they find out Padmé lives?