Resonance
A/N: I'm not dead. Yet.
Vader knew. Before his comlink had even buzzed his attention wavered and he could feel the phantom presence of his master reach out with icy hands to the Sovereign. The plummeting, fetid swell of malice embraced the officers manning the communications array, groping excitedly as his master issued his demands. Terror seeped from the command staff even as they hung suspended in orbit half a planet away. A result that only could have been matched had the withered body accompanied the spirit. There was little question as what the demands would entail.
Her Majesty was still speaking, stilted tones lacking in emotion, but rich in stilted formality. Signs of an admirable effort to remain civil in the face of adversity. A series of escalating threats nested in subtext, shaded in polite pleasantries. Well restrained indignation failed to escape the mouth rounded in thick lipstick and makeup.
Tarkin was gesticulating emphatically, the smile on his face never reaching his eyes. Nor did his lips truly touch his own teacup. Nor did Tarkin's eyes wander to his shadow, Vader once again an observer to a matter of little galactic merit. Embers of rebellion were glowing ever brighter and here he remained, a token appearance for political gesturing in a lacking territory.
A grey shroud descended over the waking world and he withdrew from the physical world and his mind wandered upwards to the fragment of attention which lingered on his aide. The boy was elusive, but the lone tendril inexplicably remained while the rest had slid from his person. Tarkin and Her Majesty continued unabated, too absorbed in their conversation and too weak to see him drift away.
Captain Pearce, a mere placeholder for the captaincy until the return to the Imperial Center, was rigid with anxiety and oozing dread as the Emperor's message passed onwards. The Emperor had issued a summons, one of which would be of little concern to answer. The Sith's presence on the planet was a show of force more than a necessity, as Naboo's fragile queen delicately set down her flower patterned teacup upon its like patterned saucer. It would be inconsequential for him to return to the Sovereign to answer the summons and receive new, perhaps more productive orders.
The Captain was not of the same opinion and a frenzied exchange occurred in real time. A debate as to how his master was to be told of his duties elsewhere. The exchange was brief, a surge of overwhelming, palpable terror and concern emanated from both men in response to his resolutely blank aide. Again, the boy was an empty void of emotion, free of lingering attachments and wrought with indifference. Unable to track the ghostly child's motives, he instead followed the scent of the officers as their fears were now tempered with how his master would respond to a child answering the query. More importantly to them, how the Emperor would respond to them granting the authority for the child to do so in the first place. If anticipation had been tangible it would have smothered the bridge within an instant.
Luke's calm permeated the room, a freestanding pillar in an oncoming storm. The boy had volunteered to receive the call and, from the perspective of those watching, stepped quite candidly into the source of his prospective demise. Palpatine's essence surged in for a thorny embrace and encountered... nothingness. A sheer, smooth cliff of utter blankness. An eloquent lunge, now an inadequate flail phased through the child, failing to resonate like to like.
His master's presence seemed to stumble, outstretched tendrils frantically grappled for purchase on something to sate its hunger. Vader retreated, narrowly evading the hooked ends as they sank into the officers he had only just left. Stubbornly, he clung to his lone thread attached to the boy and felt it pull as Luke's already indifferent nature slid further towards apathy. His master was utterly beneath the child's regard.
Familiarity welled up within the Sith. An old wound threatened to reopen as the tiny boy radiated Jedi serenity, completely oblivious to the malevolent Sith Master seeking weakness and cracks through which he could drip his slow poison. A whisper of Obi-Wan hung around Luke's presence, but his old master had never been so empty even when he was posing as a decaying corpse. A mournful void which shunted Vader further and away as his own irritation grew. It was as though the core of the boy had simply been ripped clean out and left an empty husk behind. A husk capable of interacting within a world, but a husk which did not live. The younglings at the Jedi Temple, far younger than the child before him, boasted a greater emotional range. Sidious could not sense it, but Vader knew and ached with the knowledge of what Tarkin has just delivered upon him, a fist clenching in response.
His master's tentacles lashed backwards, cold wrath tinged with curiosity echoing throughout the Force. Vader felt the ripples from a distance, buried so deeply within the child's mind with his single anchor it was as though he was watching a recording of the event rather than the event itself. As they thrashed they extended towards him and he braced himself, only for they malevolence to phase through him. Dissatisfaction, they grasped at air and they vanished. It was impressive, a child so young so utterly immune to the whims of a Sith Master. Impressive and disconcerting.
The Sith remained lodged within the boy's mind for the rest of the meeting. Minutes of observation turned to hours and the sun made an appearance in the corner of one of the Queen's stained glass windows. As he lingered patterns of thought became more evident. What Luke lacked in emotion he made up for in depth of thought and breadth of knowledge. Every shred of information attached to his probe resulted in a response. Images of ships returned calculations or schematics, names of individuals returned loose whispers of their pasts or associations, but all attempts of discovering the boy's homeworld fell flat. Each query returned a blast of sand and rolling dunes. A desert world, but no hints of a name attached to the countless questions. A well organised mind which could have belonged to a droid for the lack of sentimentality attached to it.
Tarkin was concluding the meeting and Vader made one last attempt in his search for the boy's identity. He weaved an image of himself and curiously dropped the idea into Luke's mind. The world trembled and the Sith felt grief. All consuming, burning and ever present grief which lasted fleetingly before it too vanished into a pit of indifference with a surge of burning flames. The boy could indeed feel, but it was blotted out by whatever had been inflicted upon his mind. Jarred, his probe came away and the Sith was left facing Tarkin and the Queen as they rose to bid each other farewell.
Vader ensured that he was the first through the exit with a Stormtrooper hailed and orders for his shuttle to be prepared given. He did not pause as he made his beeline straight to the Queen's rooms through the side passages and was rewarded by her and her security detachment striding into view. The child Queen concealed her outward surprise well.
"Lord Vader, what an unexpected pleasure," she said, taken aback.
"Your Majesty, I request a moment of your time."
A bubble of amusement from her and she waved a hand towards the pathway leading to the palace gardens. "Perhaps somewhere more private, Lord Vader?"
"This is agreeable."
Another gesture and her security team was ordered to remain behind. She took the lead as she lead him through the palace's hidden passages and they entered the dawn of the garden.
"Lord Vader, how may we assist?"
"Where was the boy when he was apprehended?"
She failed to conceal her shock upon this question, eyebrows noticeably raising upwards. "The blond haired boy who left with your detachment following the Empire Day celebrations?"
"Yes."
She frowned, casting her mind backwards. "He was found sleeping near the palace's tomb of Queen Amidala. Palace security was unable to determine how he found his way to the tomb, only that someone on security apparently saw fit to allow him into the palace. As of yet, they have found no one who could be directly traced." Vader's breath would have caught had the respirator not breathed on his behalf.
"Why her tomb?" A sinking sensation, a twisting of the Force and Vader was left bereft of any guidance he could have called upon.
Fortunately, the Force was not needed to interpret the expression of intense pity which followed. "He told security that he wanted to visit his mother, the poor thing. We have no idea as to who his mother would be, but all children of our royals are accounted for as far as we are aware. Queen Amidala passed away with her child. She was well loved amongst the world's orphans, they saw her as a mother figure given her charity work once she left the throne. It could be that the poor boy was attempting to fill the gap..."
Vader did not hear the rest of her explanation, feet blindly carrying him in the direction of his shuttle. Numbness spread, there was an odd lack of the rage which gripped him to his surroundings. Why her tomb of all places? Luke's mind in question was of no help, bogged down by thick clouds of sleep which had crept up upon him as Naboo's day rolled over. His shuttle crew was summarily ignored as he boarded. Tarkin was present, his mouth thankfully remained shut and acknowledged him with a simple nod.
He disembarked in much the same way he had arrived. Without so much as a sidelong glance his cold fury carried him into the direction of his and the child's rooms. A parting of seas occurred as the whole of His Majesty's Imperial Navy gave generous way to the enraged Sith. Ensign Menzies, in a show self preservation, opened the boy's door for him and threw himself out of arms reach.
What he found had been somewhat disappointing, even if it were the logical conclusion. Luke, giving the impression he had fallen from a great height, was sprawled upon one of the suite's leather lounges. A faint snore emanated from where his head and gracelessly wedged itself where the arm met the cushion. Four empty coffee cups stood at attention and a fifth was at half capacity. A datapad lay in hibernation, dangling listlessly from a tiny, pale hand. The other sleeve was empty, the boy withdrawing one arm inwards. The boy had failed to stir in the slightest even with the Sith so close.
A gentle tug and Vader extracted the datapad with only a marginal tightening of fingers. It had failed to sleep properly and opened to a series of cross referenced lists relating to the Corellian Run. Dates, times, potential criminal or rebel connections, suspicious tax records and a host of commentary had been attached to a starchart. The boy was meticulous, starting with Core worlds and moving outwards as the compilation grew to spider web of associations. It was little wonder his mind probes had encountered such a wealth of information, but there was a nagging hole as to why the boy would have such a broad knowledge. The Force was once more of little use to him and the datapad creaked in protest as his hand tightened to a fist.
A stir of black fabric. "Milord?" Luke slurred after a long pause, blinking sleepily. "How can I help?" Vader would recount this as being one of the few times Luke had managed to sound his age.
"These are your preparations for the inspection?"
"Yes, Lord Vader," Luke slurred once again, yawning deeply. "I'm not done yet, but it's a start. The Emperor called by the way..." Another large yawn, "I had him make an appointment to get back to you later since you were busy and he should know better." The fearless boy struggled to a sitting position while trembling and continued to gaze blearily at him. Still half asleep, Luke swayed, eyes blinking slowly. An opportunity arose.
"Why are you here, young one?"
Luke was blinking again. "Because Tarkin said so."
"Why have you not attempted to escape?"
"It's cold," Luke murmured, shivering and indeed appeared to be turning slightly blue. "Freeze in space." Vader navigated to the nearest linen cupboard and returned to the trembling boy with a swath of sheets he unceremoniously dropped across the child. Luke surfaced with some effort and breathed deeply, still only hanging in the waking world.
"Why?" Vader repeated.
"They told me you killed my father," Luke mumbled. Vader froze and probed at boy, meeting a steady flow of confusion. There was no hatred or anger, only the vague sense of grief he had found prior.
"I have killed many fathers, child. You will have to be more specific," the Sith stated coldly.
"Yeah, you have," Luke said agreeably, "but I don't think you killed mine. Mine was a Jedi. I don't think he's dead, maybe if I hang around for long enough..." How curious. A reason for the missing last name, the child of a Jedi.
"Why do you believe him to still be alive?"
"No record of death," Luke mumbled. "Checked archives, couldn't find anything. He was popular in the Clone Wars, should've been something. Couldn't ask anyone, awkward questions."
"You think that I will find him."
"Yeah," Luke nodded.
"What makes you think he will continue to live after I find him?"
"Common interests?" Luke shrugged, eyes losing focus as he started to drift.
"Common interests such as?" Luke was unresponsive, eyes closing. "What of Queen Amidala's tomb?"
"Visiting mother," Luke garbled.
"And your mother is?"
It was too late. Luke's momentary awareness had faded, head sinking into his chest. Lolling sideways, the boy's form slowly migrated back towards the arm of the lounge. With a concealed noise of disgust, Vader stepped forwards and effortlessly lifted the child who turned out to weigh not very much at all. Skin on bone, the boy was far too thin. Moments later the child was deposited on top the bed and Vader left in a flowing movement.
"We are not finished," he told the near catatonic boy and the door hissed shut. Ensign Menzies was nowhere to be found, no doubt cowering some distance away until the danger had passed like a common animal. Perhaps it was for the best, anything to the contrary would destroy the boy's rapport with the few contacts he had to facilitate his work.
He remained in his meditation chamber long into the new day as the boy slumbered onwards. The datapad within his grasp, he added to the already long and winding list Luke had started, neatly sliding research of his own into the gaps. It was incomplete and such a task would have been impossible without an assistant, as his master no doubt would have realised. Luke's appearance and Tarkin's foolish intervention was more of a blessing than a hindrance at this point, the uncertain Jedi parentage irrelevant in the face of the tasks ahead.
As he reached out to check the status of his aide he could have sworn he heard an acknowledging whisper of father echo along the Force and shuddered.