Assess your victory.

You turn your back on the crippled Luke, looking out to the space battle before you. It's all but finished, now. Your forces are destroying, disabling and driving back the Rebel attack ****, the **** Star still impervious to any damage.

"It's finished, young Skywalker." You tell him. "Soon, the Rebellion's back will be broken. But you'll be the one to deliver the killing blow."

"Never!" He insists, through blinding pain.

"You will be broken, young Skywalker. Of that I have no doubt. You've already come so close, now that I have you at my mercy, it is simply a matter of time."

Luke stares up at you defiantly, clearly wanting to say something, though the pain is becoming to great. You sense it, mingling with his fear and dread.

"Besides, with your father out of the way, I require an apprentice..." You chuckle, staring over at Vader's corpse.

As Luke fades from conciousness, you summon a member of your Royal Guard.

"Have Skywalker taken to the medical center and stabilised. I want him to pull through. How much pain he has to contend with, I leave to you."

"Is there anything else, my lord?" The red-robed warrior asks, her head bowed in reverence as the others wheel Luke away.

"Have the Rebels from the forest moon brought to this station. Organa, the smuggler, the Wookiee. They are his weakness." You say with a smile.

"And have "Lord Vader" thrown into a trash compactor. He's of now use to me now."

The guard bows and your will is put into action.