Author Note: Ok, I decided to continue this! Probably 3 or 4 chapters total.
Tatooine
Jabba the Hutt's palace
6 days later
Biggs Darklighter took a shallow breath through his mouth. A scarf covered his nose and mouth and that helped, but still. They were almost done, almost done, almost done.
"We only have 30 more minutes, Biggs," Jak 'Shaak' Windspinner said, fear in his voice.
"It's Ok, Shaak," Biggs said reassuringly, "We'll be done in time."
On the other side of the great door, the rancor suddenly flung its large body against the metal, causing a resounding boom.
Both boys flinched, then gathered their flagging strength to tackle the last pile of rancor droppings.
"What is that?" Shaak muttered softly.
Biggs shot the item a quick glance before lifting it with his tool, "Gamorrean guard armor. Better to be shoveling it than to be in it, you know?"
He kept his voice as light as possible. It was an old, and macabre, slave joke.
"Galaxies and stars, Biggs ..." Shaak said in a shaken voice, "You know it's just a matter of time before it's me."
"Shaak, calm down and focus on the job," Biggs said, putting all his emotional strength into keeping his voice reassuring, "We've made it a year and we'll make it another year. Our families ..."
"Don't know where we are ... and even if they did, you know what happened to Skywalker when he tried to run," Shaak responded miserably.
Biggs nodded, even as he struggled to keep his spirits up, for Shaak's sake as much as his own. Shaak was 3 years younger than he was, the second youngest teen snatched by the Tuskens more than a year ago and then sold into slavery to Jabba. Biggs had taken it upon himself to help and protect the younger youth as much as possible in the hellhole that was Jabba the Hutt's fortress.
Shaak was actually several months older than Luke Skywalker, but Skywalker ... and here Biggs smiled a little to himself sadly. Skywalker had a vibrant and determined personality unlike anyone he had ever met before. That boy had not submitted to slavery, had spent his entire week of slavery plotting to escape and had done so.
Two days after Luke had disappeared, the chief overseer had gathered all the slaves together and shown them the remains of a young man he claimed was Luke Skywalker. The head of the corpse had exploded from a slave transmitter being discharged, but the general size and appearance of the body was enough to convince most of the slaves.
Biggs was not convinced. He had been Skywalker's best friend and he didn't think the remains matched his friend. He had hope that somewhere out there, Luke was free.
Biggs wrinkled his nose as he lifted the last shovelful of loathsome rancor excrement into the chute which led outside the palace walls and into a storage container. The droppings were actually brown gold to some of the farmers, as the stinky stuff was filled with healthy nutrients which helped fertilize the few crops that could grow on this wasteland. The knowledge that the poop had value didn't make this job any easier, especially since the rancor's keeper had assured them if they weren't done in 5 hours, the rancor would be released back into this part of its pen and, well, it hadn't been fed in several days.
"Let's go, Shaak," Biggs said quietly, walking over to the caged and locked door. The fat keeper standing there looked in through the bars carefully to see if they had finished the job adequately, nodded, then opened the door and gestured them through even as he frowned in distaste at the smell emanating from the two slaves.
Biggs carefully pulled the scarf off his face and stepped into the sonic cleaner. One of the very few benefits of this putrid job was that he was allowed to get cleaned off. Even Jabba, who seemed to enjoy disgusting smells, didn't want his slaves stinking of rancor excrement.
After 5 minutes, he stepped out, and waited wearily while Shaak had his turn.
Silently, they both climbed the set of back stairs that led to the small and stifling slave quarters. Their evening meal would be served soon and even after hours in the rancor area, they were hungry. They were always hungry.
They approached a landing where 3 corridors branched off, one of which led to Jabba's throne room. Suddenly, a tall figure clad in Mandalorian armor and helmet stepped onto the landing facing them.
Biggs stiffened slightly and stopped. He recognized the man as Boba Fett, a noted bounty hunter who often worked for Jabba. Behind him, Shaak bumped into Biggs and stumbled to a stop, only now noticing through his exhaustion that the way to the slave quarters was blocked.
The bounty hunter gazed at the two slaves thoughtfully, then spoke in his modified voice, "Biggs Darklighter? Jak Windspinner?"
Biggs cringed back, startled. He wasn't called by his name here. He had a number, not a name. How did Fett know his name?
"Yes, that's us," Shaak said, surprised.
Fett nodded and gestured toward the corridor leading to Jabba's throne room.
"You're needed. Come."
Biggs opened his mouth in half protest, then closed it. They were totally exhausted to the point of nearly fainting from fatigue, but it wouldn't be the first time that the fear of death had given him renewed strength.
He obediently followed the bounty hunter down the dank and fetid corridor, his mind too weary to process why Fett was giving him orders instead of one of Jabba's personal staff.
Abruptly a door slid open and the bounty hunter directed the slaves into a room off the corridor. Biggs groaned inwardly; this was a large storeroom with an access corridor to the outside of the palace where slaves were frequently required to carry heavy items from supply skiffs into the storeroom. He was tired, and he knew Shaak was even more so.
The two young men stepped into the storage chamber which was dimly lit, with a strange repetitive whooshing sound emanating from one corner.
The bounty hunter stepped in after them and shut the door, just as the lights brightened.
Both Biggs and Shaak gaped in astonishment. Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, stood against one wall, right next to the door which led to the outside corridor. Darklighter wondered briefly if he had lost his mind. Darth Vader? Here?
Belatedly, Biggs noticed a much shorter, cloaked figure at Vader's side, who now threw off his hood and rushed forward.
"Biggs!"
It was Luke Skywalker.
"Luke?!" Biggs choked out incredulously.
"Biggs!" Luke said again, throwing his arms around his taller friend, "It's so good to see you."
Biggs flinched in spite of himself, as Luke's hug pressed on bruises from a recent beating.
Luke stepped back in distress, obviously picking up on his friend's pain, "I'm sorry. Stars, Biggs, you've lost so much weight."
"They don't feed us really well here, Luke," Biggs returned, his eyes now on the Sith Lord who had followed Luke over in a strangely protective manner.
"Good work, bounty hunter," the iconic bass voice rumbled, familiar even on Tatooine.
"Thank you, Lord Vader," the hunter responded coolly.
"The other slaves?"
"They are mostly in their quarters and the slave chips will be deactivated as soon as you let me know that Jabba is dead. I have boosters set up throughout the palace to augment the deactivation transmission in case any slaves are in unusual places. All chips respond to the same frequency, which is fortuitous."
"Oh, Biggs, Shaak, stand still for a minute," Luke said, lifting up an instrument in his hand.
As if in a dream, Biggs stilled and Luke turned on the wand.
There were a few beeps, and Luke nodded, turned to Shaak, and repeated his movements.
Fett ran a probe over both youths, then nodded briskly, "Chips are deactivated."
"Watch these three carefully, bounty hunter, and if you are aware of danger, take them out the alternate entrance to your ship" the Dark Lord ordered.
He stepped forward now to loom over the armored figure while lifting a menacing finger, "Your life is forfeit if harm comes to the boy."
The bounty hunter seemed unconcerned, "I assure you, Lord Vader, there is no cause for alarm or concern. I'll keep him safe."
"Father, I'll be fine," Luke said, causing Biggs to nearly have a heart attack on the spot.
The slight teen stepped forward to place small hands on the armored arms of the giant, "You be careful, please. Jabba's got a bunch of guards and ..."
"It will not be a problem, Son," the vocoder sounding both amused and moved.
"Ok," Luke replied, brushing his hair out of his face. (Vader made a note that the child would need a haircut when there was time.)
"Oh, and Father?"
"Yes, Luke?"
"They aren't all bad, you know? The people in Jabba's Throne Room, I mean."
Vader looked down at his son's face, so much like that of the young Anakin Skywalker, but with the gentle expression of the child's mother Padme.
"I will keep that in mind, Luke."
The Dark Lord strode out of the door and Fett promptly shut and locked it behind him.
"You seem too nice for Vader's kid," he commented.
Luke was looking at the door which had closed behind his father, and turned to the bounty hunter, shrugging, "I was raised by good people, and I know what it's like here. People get caught up in situations beyond their control."
Biggs finally managed to croak out the question that had been lurching around in his mind, "Darth Vader is your father?"
Skywalker turned and smiled, his eyes taking on a joyous glow, "Yes! He found me on Ryloth about a week ago. We got to ... umm ... talking and it turns out he is Anakin Skywalker, and he is my father. Isn't that amazing? So now I'm with him, and I told him I really wanted to get you and the others abducted by the Tuskens out of here, and he agreed."
Biggs brain was crashing around like a crazed zucca boar being stalked by a krayt dragon. It was Shaak who managed the next question.
"What's Lord Vader going to say to Jabba about us, Luke? Do you think he'll convince Jabba to let us go?"
Luke looked surprised, "I'm not sure he is going to say anything at all. Father is going to kill him."
/-
Vader didn't say a word as he swept out of the corridor and into Jabba's Throne Room.
It was a fairly quiet moment, as Jabba had thrown one of his orgies earlier in the day and now, as the suns set, most of Jabba's court, alien and human alike, were drunk or spiced up.
Jabba was himself sitting on his throne, 800 kg of bulbous green glory. His large eyes were closed and his small rat-like companion was curled up on his tail, with a mournful slave girl, a teen Twi'lek by the looks of her, held by a chain around her neck against the fat flank of her captor.
Vader held out a gloved hand and the two locked doors into the throne room slid open.
He was, briefly, transported back to Mustafar, when he had closed and locked the doors on the Separatist leaders in order to destroy them all. This time, he was willing to let the minions escape. Jabba was the dragon's head of the Hutt Clans here on Tatooine, and Jabba had had the temerity to buy his son as a slave. And Jabba would pay now.
The lightsaber hummed to life, a red blade of destruction, just as Jabba straightened himself and opened his eyes in astonishment.
The Hutt managed to yelp just once as Vader leaped across the Throne Room floor and sank his lightsaber hilt deep into the space between Jabba's eyes.
There was a flurry of sudden activity and the guards began firing their weapons, not very accurately. Vader jumped back and stretched out through the Force, channeling his outrage at his son's treatment, at the pain in Biggs Darklighter, at slavery in general, into the power of the Dark Side of the Force. The blaster shots that came close to the Sith deflected off an invisible shield, and Vader spun around as if in a lethal dance, destroying the guards and other scum who dared to attack him.
There were not many. Jabba died quickly, as a lightsaber strike directly into the brain was far from healthy even for a gargantuan Hutt. And once Jabba's servants and minions realized he was dead, most fled.
Within a few minutes, the Great Throne Room of Jabba the Hutt was empty save for the corpses on the floor and one terrified Twi'lek slave girl, who was still held by a chain of durasteel in the clenched hands of her dead captor.
She stared at the Dark Lord, eyes wide with fear.
And again Darth Vader was transported back, this time to his own early childhood when he, a child of only a few years of age, had been enslaved with his mother by Gardulla the Hutt, both with slave collars around their own necks.
It had been decades ago, a different life, yet so very real and painful at this moment.
Silently, the lightsaber blade scythed toward the girl, who shrank back in terror. The chain broke and the girl, curled up awaiting the death blow, widened her eyes in surprise.
"Go, girl." Vader said, turning toward the room where his son waited, "Your transmitter has been deactivated. You are free."
/-
Six hours later
The Darklighter main farm
Huff Darklighter stood outside the front of the home with his daughter, Dera, at his side.
"You see it, Father?" she asked.
Huff nodded grimly. It was well into night, and there was indeed a strange glow in the northeast, where Jabba the Hutt's fortress lay.
"They are up to something, Dera, but there isn't a great deal we can learn at this hour since ..."
He stopped abruptly as he noticed a group of lights in the sky growing closer. He and Dera stared up, both fingering their heavy duty blasters. It was a ship, a small one based on the pattern of lights, but it was too dark to see any other details.
A ship clearly planning to land in front of the Darklighter home.
For a moment, Huff considered waking up the occupants in the house but it shouldn't be necessary. He did get occasional visitors as one of the wealthier farmers in the area, though the middle of the night was a bit odd.
Most likely it was someone with news about the Jabba the Hutt situation. It was always wise to know what the Hutt Lord was doing, both from a financial and survival standpoint.
The ship settled into the sands 30 meters from the two Darklighters, and a minute later the exit ramp lowered onto the sand.
Huff took a couple of steps forward and to the left, shielding Dera just in case. She muttered indignantly, but stayed back.
Dimly, Huff could see a cloaked figure moving toward him.
"Father?"
Huff froze in shock at that voice, even as Dera shrieked incredulously, "Biggs?!"
She was running forward now and Biggs, yes, it was Biggs, lurched forward into her arms.
"Dera! Dera! It's so good to see you!"
"Biggs, oh Biggs!"
Huff's limbs finally unlocked and he was running forward now to look into the face of his haggard, thin, but very much alive 18 year old son, Biggs.
"I don't, I don't believe it," he gasped out, lifting Biggs into an enormous hug. An instant later, he relaxed his grip as his son gasped in pain.
"Are you hurt, Son?" he demanded in anxious horror.
"I've got some bruises, Father," Biggs explained, "But I'm Ok."
"We should go inside to discuss the situation at length," a new voice stated.
Darklighter jumped in shock, his hand reaching for his blaster. Standing behind his son, heretofore unnoticed, was a looming 2 meters tall, black armor, loudly breathing figure. Darth Vader was here?
"Father, it's Ok," Biggs said hastily, "Lord Vader rescued me."
Darklighter pulled himself together with immense difficulty.
Mustering his courage, he stared at the terrifying cyborg in front of him and finally said in a broken voice, "Thank you for saving my son."
Then, clearing his throat, he added, "Yes, let's get inside."
/-
Four hours later, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader made the jump into lightspeed and walked into the main cabin of his ship, the bland but highly augmented freighter Stalisti.
He had sensed Luke fall asleep as they'd climbed out of Tatooine's atmosphere and into space.
Indeed, the child was sprawled on the floor, a pillow tucked under his head. Obviously Luke could have slept in his far more comfortable bed, but in the week that they had been together, Luke had shown a strong predilection toward sleeping on the main cabin floor while his father worked.
With a smile, Vader gestured and a blanket in the corner flew toward his son before draping over the thin form.
Anakin sat down in front of a holoterminal and considered. He had been impressed with Huff Darklighter. The man had been remarkably coherent and clearheaded within minutes of learning his presumably dead son was in fact alive and newly rescued from slavery from Jabba the Hutt's fortress.
Darklighter had cheerfully accepted a large credit chip from Vader (untraceable to the Dark Lord's accounts) and agreed to help the freed slaves either return to their homes or find passage off planet.
Jabba's organization was, if not totally destroyed, at least seriously crippled. In addition to killing Jabba, Vader had destroyed several high ranking underlings who had dared oppose him, and had made a point of blowing up sections of the palace where the Hutt's administrative records were kept. He had also ensured that the slaves had access to Jabba's speeders, swoop bikes, and treasure stores.
And indeed, Jabba had many treasures; jewels, fine wines, leathers, and valuable metals. The Hutt had been a connoisseur of the elegant and the stolen.
The situation was fraught with challenge, but Vader couldn't stay behind to help sort it out. Sidious was no doubt looking for him, and he and Luke needed to keep moving.
Boba Fett, himself eminently capable, was working with the Darklighter, not out of a sense of altruism but of challenge. Fett was a mercenary through and through but he always craved an exciting test of his skills, and the clone man clearly foresaw new opportunities now that Jabba had fallen.
So Vader would leave Tatooine, and the slaves, and hope for the best.
Next stop, Alderaan.
He leaned back and closed his eyes, relishing this moment of comparative peace, when the Senator spoke for the first time since he'd found Luke on Ryloth.
"I'm sorry, Ani."
He straightened, puzzled, "Sorry for what, Senator?"
"We should have talked about your slavery, my love. I had no idea ... no idea how terrible it was."
Anakin pushed back at this emotionally, "Watto was a far kinder master than Gardulla, Senator. And I was only a Hutt slave for a few years."
"Very formative years, Anakin. You were a tiny child locked in a slave collar. And slavery is slavery, even if your later master was relatively kind."
"It was long ago. It does not matter."
"I think it does, Ani. And you'll need to deal with it at some point to fully heal emotionally."
"It is not necessary."
"It is necessary. You want to be a good father to Luke, don't you? Work through the pain of your past for his sake, if not for your own."
Anakin sighed wearily. The Senator could be so pushy at times.
He glanced at Luke, who was curled up on the floor, his Force sense one of peace and tranquility.
Anakin's eyes throbbed as his destroyed tear ducts sought to work, and failed. Yes, he did want to be a good father. A great father. And she was probably right. There was so much pain from the past ...
And for Luke's sake, he would seek healing.
Author Note: Next stop, Alderaan! I know I keep going between Vader and Anakin. He's still both, really. Still Dark Side-ey but loves Luke dearly so he's a complicated dude right now.
